Screwing the Mob (The Mob Lust Series Book 1)

by Kristen Luciani

  Charming place, I know.

  I scroll through my favorite satellite stations, landing on one of my favorite Metallica songs. Perfect. Just what I need. Something else to fuel my rage.

  My phone buzzes again and I grip it, unleashing a string of expletives against the man on the other end. But he can’t hear me. I squeeze it tighter. Or maybe he can. Maybe that’s why he keeps calling. Maybe he wants me to react, to scream these very obscene words at him. Maybe he needs to hear how deep my anger runs. Maybe—

  Crack!

  “Ahh! Sonofabitch!” I yell. Damn potholes! The roads out here are like active minefields with new potholes blowing up the concrete on a daily basis, and my car just crashed into one of the giant pits littering my path. The loud bang assures me that my rim is completely fucked. Hundreds of bucks down the drain. I grit my teeth, heading for the on ramp for the turnpike so I can get home and figure out what the hell to do next.

  A bright flashing light coming from the dashboard startles me back to my current reality…a tire that is rapidly depressurizing, and one that won’t get me to the Stop sign even at the end of this road, much less home.

  I pull over, off of the main part of the road, but since there’s no curb to speak of, I’m technically still in the road. In the dark. By myself.

  Can this night get any more fabulous?

  I flip on my hazards and dig around in the glove compartment for the emergency services card. I wonder if anyone will even answer. Eleven-thirty. I roll my eyes. Everyone else in the world is probably drinking themselves into a stupor by now, getting ready to watch that sparkly Swarovski crystal ball slither down its cord closer to the crowd of inebriated people below.

  I’d like to be there. I’d like to be just about anywhere except here.

  Blinding headlights glare at me through my rearview mirror and I raise my arm to protect my eyes. I flip off my hazards, my throat tight. Just keep going, just keep going…

  A large black SUV pulls to the side of the road, just in front of my car. A second one appears out of nowhere, stopping just before it rear-ends my Infinity Q60. My car is now sandwiched between them, and panic floods my body. My finger creeps over to the door and presses the lock button. As if that barrier is going to save me.

  Three men spill out of the first SUV but nobody from the second vehicle joins them. Yet. I swallow hard, cowering in my seat. I fumble in the darkness for my phone and stab the dial button.

  The men approach my car, one coming closer than the others. Dressed from head to toe in black. They look like classic movie-version cat burglars. But I know they are way worse than that. The man who is the closest slides back his black overcoat to reveal…I squint, swallowing a scream.

  The line rings and rings…where the hell is he? Why isn’t he picking up? And even if he did, what the hell am I going to tell him? He can’t save me!

  The man pulls out a gun and points it directly at me through the window. “Get out of the car, Shaye.”

  My body freezes. He knows my name. How does he know my name? Who the hell is he? And what do they—?

  He taps on the window with the tip of the gun. “I will shoot through the window and drag you out if I have to. But this whole thing would be much more civilized if you’d just open the door and save me the trouble.”

  My finger trembles, hovering over the lock.

  “Shaye! I’ve been calling you for an hour. Where are you? We need to talk. Now. Tell me where you are, and—”

  My mouth drops open, but I can’t squeak out a single word. I don’t think, I don’t speak. I duck down, throw the car into Drive, and press the gas. The tire clunks on the ground, but at least I’m moving. Breaths come fast and furious, almost choking me.

  Smash!

  The back window shatters into the car, and I let out a bloodcurdling scream as I lose control of the car, and it careens into a nearby pole.

  “Shaye! What the fuck is going on?”

  Another loud crack from the gun and my car is rendered immobile with a second flat tire. My shoulders quake, my hands shaking as I grab the phone and stutter out a plea…maybe my final plea. “Nico…someone…here…have guns…please…help…”

  I push open the door just before the men get close enough to grab me and I leap out of the driver’s seat, tearing down the road in my insensible heels. They click and clack on the pavement with each panicked step away from the goons in hot pursuit. “Please help me!”

  “Tell me where you are!”

  A gaggle of tears catch in my throat as a beefy hand grasps my wrist from behind. I yank it out of his grip. “Leave me alone!”

  One of the trucks blows past me, skidding to a stop in front of me, blocking my path. I clutch my phone to my chest, tears streaking my face. Another menacing thug steps out from the truck, a sinister smile on his face. “There’s nowhere to go, Shaye.”

  “Shaye, who the fuck is that? Tell me who’s there with you!”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I whisper, my teeth chattering. Yes, the temperatures are below freezing, but I think it’s more due to the threat of impending death than anything else.

  Another beefy hand grabs the phone from me. A deep growl emerges from the depths of his throat as he holds the phone up to his ear. “Why don’t you come and see for yourself, Salesi? I think it’s about time we met, don’t you?”

  Nico

  I hurl the television remote against the wall. “Fuck!” That sonofabitch Cappodamo is behind this. There’s no doubt in my mind. I knew this would happen. I just didn’t plan on him baiting me like this. Tonight. I thought we’d have more fucking time to prepare. And I figured he’d go after my dad since he’s the one who pulled the plug on Oriani’s drug deal.

  But my dad is the boss now. And if you try to take out the boss and fail…well, you’re pretty much fucked. So coming after me makes more sense. After all, I just moved into my role because of blood, not because of commitment.

  I haven‘t proven a damn thing to anyone in this family except the fact that I can run a more successful business than any other capo and bring in more cash than all of those dipshits combined. That’s my claim to fame. Not brute force and bragging rights for the highest number of kills.

  I look down at the address I typed into my phone. According to Google Maps, Cappodamo dragged her to some shithole warehouse in Bayonne, and I’m sure they aren’t the only two waiting for me. I fist my hair to keep my hand from smashing into a wall. If this bastard wants to play so badly, I need to get my team together, and unfortunately, one of the key players is in danger of dissenting.

  I stab a set of numbers on my iPhone keyboard and wait. Two rings later, a deep, heavily accented voice growls at me. “Tell me it’s time.”

  “It’s time. Get your guys together and meet me at 2134 Oil Refinery Way in Bayonne. They’ve got…” I swallow hard. “They’ve got my girl.”

  A slow, deliberate laugh vibrates in my ear. “Then let’s get her back. Our way.”

  I hang up the phone and toss it next to my keys and coat. Tonight is the night I show all of those bastards why I deserve my position. Nobody will ever again think I got this role because of my father and grandfather. They’re gonna know I got it because I fucking deserve it, because I’ve proven my loyalty.

  I run into a hidden room off the kitchen and spin the dial on the combination to unlock the safe with all of the weapons I’ve collected. Tonight I wear a bullseye on my forehead, but damn the motherfucker who thinks he’s taking the shot.

  I stick two Glocks into the back waistband of my jeans and grab a black duffel bag that holds three more guns and as much ammo as I need to pepper those assholes with lead until it comes out of their asses.

  My iPhone buzzes with a text, and I run back to the bedroom, stumbling forward as my foot catches on a corner of a throw rug. I land on the bed and slide my finger across the screen. It’s a picture of Shaye, blindfolded, gagged, wrists bound with duct tape. Her head is leaning back against a cement wal
l and her feet are bare.

  There’s no message, No caption. No need.

  My chest tightens as I pick up my phone and forward the image to Max. I know he sure as hell won’t pick up the phone if he sees my number, not that I blame him. But I need that crazy motherfucker now more than ever.

  Not a minute passes before I get a response.

  Where are we going?

  I let out a shaky breath and respond.

  Bayonne. I’ll be over in 5.

  I throw on my coat, toss the duffel over my shoulder, and grab my keys before tearing through the front door. Once I’m in the driver’s seat of my car, I allow the toxic thoughts to erupt.

  You fucking let this happen. You watched her leave, and you didn’t even try to stop her. This is your fault!

  I press the button to start the engine and stomp on the gas, the accusations looping through my mind as I maneuver through the side streets in the direction of Max’s house. My pulse throbs against my neck. They won’t hurt her. They only want me.

  I hope. I pray.

  The tires screech to a halt in front of the house and he’s already out the door, wearing a black baseball cap and black overcoat. I know what he’s packing under it. I’ve seen this getup plenty of times before.

  As soon as he’s inside the car, I zoom down the street, headed toward the northbound entrance of the turnpike. “Get in touch with Duke at the club. Let him know what’s going down. Send the address to the other guys.” I swallow hard. “And call Rocco. He’s part of this now, too, and we need all the backup we can get. Make sure he gets his ass up there as soon as possible.”

  Max’s jaw twitches, but he does what I ask without saying a damn thing. I need the few minutes to get my head screwed on straight before telling him what I allowed to happen.

  The silence is deafening. I scrub a hand down my face, accelerating onto the ramp. Wind whips across the car, making the Range Rover sway back and forth. I grip the steering wheel tight, so tight I lose feeling in my fingertips.

  Shaye tied up. Shaye gagged. Shaye unconscious.

  My stomach rolls, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to hold down the Kind bar I’d eaten on my way home from the club.

  “Don’t you fucking dare, you asshole. This is all your fault. You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, could you? If I’d have smashed in your pretty little face before like I’d wanted to, she wouldn’t be holed up in that warehouse.”

  I swallow hard and take a few deep breaths. “Don’t you think I know that?” I rasp, swerving around a slow-moving car. A dumbass move, especially on New Year’s Eve. Getting pulled over right now is not an option, not with the fucking arsenal we’re hauling.

  “I don’t know, Nico. You don’t tell me shit these days. You fucked my sister, hired my damn nemesis. Those fucking images of your naked ass plowing my sister are burned into my memory, thank you very much. Anything else I’m gonna find out about tonight? ’Cause I’d like to be mentally prepared this time.”

  I rub my temple, debating which of the two things he needs to know. “I’m in love with her, Max.” My voice cracks again, my mind conjuring up a hell of a lot of stomach-clenching scenarios involving Shaye and those goons. They may not kill her, but Christ only knows what they’ve done to her, what they may still do if I don’t step on it.

  Max turns to face me, his mouth twisted into a grimace that I can clearly see in my periphery. “You don’t love her. You love you, Nico. And that’s exactly why we’re headed to the armpit of New Jersey right now. You saw something you wanted, and you took it with no regard for her safety. So either you never thought she’d be a target or you just didn’t give a fuck one way or the other. Both of those scenarios show how fucking selfish you are.”

  His voice drips with disdain and anger, and if circumstances were different right now, I know he wouldn’t hesitate to take that baseball bat to my skull. “You’re wrong.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  “Look, I hired Rocco, yes, and I’d do it again to protect my dad’s interests. I did what was expected of me because it’s what I always do. But just so you’re completely informed, the dickhead who grabbed Shaye? He’s the same guy your father tried to get involved with years back.”

  I stomp on the brake outside of the warehouse and glare at Max who stares at me, open-mouthed. “Yeah, that’s right. Cappodamo, your dad’s buddy? He’s the one who has her in there. The drug smuggler who has been on the FBI’s radar for the past decade, the one who would have brought down our whole family if my dad hadn’t stopped it. And just so we’re clear, and so you’re completely informed, the other guys who are meeting me here tonight? They’re the fucking Russian bratva. I’ve been working with Viktor Ivanov for the past couple of years now, another thing I couldn’t tell you because, again, it’s to protect our interests against this motherfucker Cappodamo.”

  I throw the car into park and turn off the engine. “Before you start pointing fingers, just think about your father. He’s the fucking reason why we’re all here right now. If he hadn’t been such a greedy and underhanded bastard, none of this would be happening. And if my grandfather had any foresight at all, he’d have had a bullet put into his brain a long fucking time ago!” I reach behind me and grab the duffel before shoving open the door. In the distance, I see a few blacked-out Ford F-150s. The Russians always seem to favor the pickups. Maybe it’s because they’re usually transporting body bags.

  I jog toward the caravan of trucks hidden off to the side of the warehouse. There are no other cars in sight, and for a second, I doubt my location. Throat tight, I stare back at my iPhone. Google Maps confirms I’m in the right spot…

  A loud, blaring sound jolts me from my moment of panic, and I stab the Accept button. “Yeah?”

  “Nico! Where the fuck are you? Duke just called. Don’t play his game. Get out of wherever you are now. You can’t take Cap down on your own.”

  I let out a breath. “Dad, I’ve got this. I can’t leave now. He has…he has Shaye.”

  “Shaye? Why in the hell—?”

  “Don’t ask. I can’t get into it now, but I have to get her out. We’re in Bayonne. He’s holding her at some abandoned warehouse. My guys just showed up. So did Ivanov and his crew. This ends tonight. On my terms. If I wait, they’ll hurt her. Or worse. I won’t let that happen.”

  Max walks toward me, but I hold out my hand, signaling for him to stop. He adjusts his cap and looks away, giving me the privacy I need for this next part. The final part.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Russian contingent pile out of the trucks, moving stealthily around, arming themselves for the unknown. My voice drops. “Listen, you were worried about what might happen to me if I stayed focused on my businesses and never prove that I deserve my position as the underboss. I know you think if I back away, it’ll make you vulnerable, too. But tonight I’m gonna make sure they all know my place in this organization and how I’ll do what I need to protect it. And they’re gonna see firsthand what will happen to anyone who tries to cross us. I have to do it, Dad. Without you.”

  My dad lets out a deep sigh after an excruciatingly long minute. “Okay, son. Do what you need to do. I’ll have the doc on standby.”

  The doc. That’s assuming there are wounds that can be healed after this decimation. “Dad, you’ve gotta call Tony. He needs to know but has to stand down. He’s already caused enough damage.”

  I can almost hear the wheels turning in my father’s head. I know he’s had plenty bottled up for the past few years, but none of that matters right now. The first order of business is letting his old friend know that his daughter is tied up in an abandoned warehouse with a gun pointed to her temple. “I’ll take care of it.” As much as he despises that cocksucker, nobody wants to be the bearer of this news.

  I click off the phone and motion for Max to join me before we approach the Russians. Viktor hops out of one of the cabs and nods to me. Two Ford Expeditions roll into the overgrown weeds and Duke j
umps out, followed by two other soldiers. “The club’s on quiet lock-down as a precaution. Nobody comes in or goes out.” he murmurs once he approaches. “I called in more security. They’re waiting on your word.”

  “We need to handle this fast and quietly. We don’t know who else is out there right now. They could be watching every location, and we have to assume they are.”

  Viktor lights a cigarette and blows a stream of smoke into the freezing night air. “What’s the plan, Nico?”

  “I’m going in alone. It’s me they’re after.” I rake a hand through my hair, sweat pebbling on the back of my neck despite the wind chill making the temperatures well below zero.

  “They’ll slit your throat before you can make it inside the building.” Max rolls his eyes. “This isn’t exactly your thing, Mr. CEO. You need us with you.”

  I know I’m in over my head here, which is why I called in my associates. But I also know if I storm that place with my horde, Shaye is as good as dead. So, I need to play this smart. I point at Viktor and his hulking guys. “Look, you guys clear the perimeter. His guys will be waiting. I’m going in.” I nod at Max. “You’re with me.”

  An unsettling smile curls the corners of his lips. “Let’s get these fuckers,” he growls, crouching low to the ground and running toward the dilapidated building that looks as though it can crumble down around us at any given second. I follow him, my chest feeling like someone is jumping around on it. In fucking cleats. “Max,” I hiss. “You’ve got to fall back a little. We don’t know who he has inside.”

  “Screw that, bro. That bastard has my sister in there. We’re taking him and his whole crew out.”

  I know what I have to do, but I’ll be damned if I know how this will all play out. And if they don’t kill us on sight, Christ only knows what they have in store for the people who iced them out and cost them millions. It ain’t gonna be pretty. I just hope that doc has actual work to do when this is all over, and by real work, I’m not talking about a body bag pickup and an autopsy.