Screwing the Mob (The Mob Lust Series Book 1)

by Kristen Luciani

  The overgrown weeds camouflage us as we near the entrance. At least, I think it’s the entrance. It looks like some kind of ominous cavern that is damn close to swallowing us whole.

  My pulse is about ready to explode out of my neck as we creep a few steps closer. A thin stream of smoke billows around a chain link fence a few feet ahead of us, and the sound of a sinister laugh pierces the air. I point and Max nods, pulling out his gun and attaching the silencer. No need to alert the enemy that we’re here to get back our girl.

  I follow close behind as he inches toward the low rumbling. I don’t even know if he looked before he took those two close-range shots. The men hit the ground with a loud thump before I could even identify them. Hell, for all Max knew, they may have been on our side.

  But discretion has never been Max’s thing. It’s one of the reasons why he’s with me right now. As panicked as I am that he’s going to make the wrong move with Cappodamo, he’s the only one I trust to have my back.

  He grins at me and salutes. “What’s next, boss?’

  After checking both directions to make sure there aren’t more goons lurking, I grab his arm and hustle him into the dark and dank building. I push him against a wall. “Follow my lead with Cappodamo, okay? I know you’re gonna want to pump him with lead, but try to restrain yourself.”

  “I’m just your backup bitch, huh? You’re leading this charge, the guy who wears BOSS Black to grab a sub from the deli? The one who doesn’t do anything with his hands except lift weights and finger chicks?”

  I grab both sides of his coat and back him against a wall. “You’re going to have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.” The truth is, I have no fucking clue, and Max can see right through me. But I’m the target here, and it’s up to me to end this war. I look around, squinting in the darkness. A sliver of light comes from the corner of the expansive space. Looks like some kind of hallway. She has to be close.

  “Your little power play is gonna get us all killed. These guys don’t do reason and logic. They do death. You get that?”

  I clamp a hand over his mouth. “I appreciate your concerns, and I’ll take them into consideration. Now shut the fuck up, and let’s find Shaye.”

  Pulling away my hand, he says, “You don’t even know how many guys he has in there, dumbass. Besides, it’s my sister he’s got. I should be the one to—"

  A loud screech, followed by a whimper, reverberates between the concrete walls. My heart plunges into my gut with the realization that it’s Shaye and that they’re inflicting some kind of torture on her. The pictures were bad enough, but hearing her tearfully plead for her life from the bowels of this sewer? Adrenaline courses through me, fueling me with rage and I swallow hard, my fingers digging into my clenched palm. “You’re not doing a fucking thing. This asshole is mine.” I spin around, my pulse throbbing against my throat as another cry echoes in the depths.

  Cold fingers snake around my wrist, yanking me back around. “You’re not going to stop me. Let go of my fucking arm, Ma—"

  Rocco’s narrowed eyes stare back at me. “I’m going in first. So just shut the fuck up, okay?”

  Shaye

  “It shouldn’t be too long now, princess. Your knight in shining armor will be here soon enough, and then I can take care of business and get on with my night.” Frank Cappodamo leans in close, so close that I can smell the stench of stale scotch on his breath. I’d never seen him before, but he’s made me painfully aware of who he is tonight and what he plans to do to those who have the balls to attempt a rescue. “I think it’s fitting, don’t you? Start the New Year out right, putting all vendettas behind me. I need to make room for the new ones…because there are always people getting in the way of the things I need to handle. Shit your boyfriend will never understand since he’s never done anything besides sit at a desk all day. He’s never gotten his hands dirty, has he? Must be nice to have everything handed to you on a silver platter.” He stretches to his full height and struts around the chair I’m tied to, pausing only to drag a fingertip down the front of my shirt, tugging at the deep v-neck. I struggle away from the finger, but that only eggs him on.

  He cups one of my breasts and I scream, except the intended piercing sound comes out more like a loud moan because of the duct tape plastered across my mouth. He lets out an evil chuckle. “I hope I don’t have to wait too much longer. I’m getting antsy, and bad shit happens when I get antsy.” He squeezes my breast, and I yelp again. “But, I’m sure I can think of some things to do right now that will keep me occupied.”

  My pulse throbs, tears blurring my vision. “Mmnmphoo!”

  He leans down, fisting my hair. “What was that? I can interpret it a few different ways, none of which will make you very happy right now.”

  I peer up at Cappodamo’s face, tears streaming down my cheeks. He’s about my father’s age, maybe a little older. Beady black eyes that make him look soulless are crowned by thick dark eyebrows that give him a naturally menacing look. He’s built like a linebacker with a thick chest, and I’m pretty sure his beefy hands have snapped plenty of necks. I pray mine doesn’t fall victim to those hands…

  “Boss, we don’t have a lot a time left. How much longer are we gonna wait?”

  “We wait until they show up!” Cappodamo kicks over another chair. “I didn’t bring this little bitch all the way up here so we could sit around and play with our dicks! Tonight, I make them all pay! We wait for Salesi, and then we take him out. That’ll send a damn clear message to his father. And to Oriani, too. Nobody fucks with my business. Ever!”

  Three other men exchange glances and Cappodamo paces the cold and damp room, muttering to himself in Italian. I can’t make out the words, but I’ll bet anything they have something to do with what he plans to do to Nico when he shows up. A shiver runs through me, silent sobs quaking my shoulders. I have no idea how many other men are outside this room. I only saw a few as they dragged me inside.

  Questions explode through my mind like bullets, and piecing together this story while consumed by fear isn’t the easiest feat. If I hadn’t left Nico tonight, none of this would be happening. They’re going to kill him because of me. They’re going to extinguish the one bright spot in my life because I had to walk away. If I’d have let him explain, none of this would be happening. We’d be at home in his bed, making love into the New Year. Instead, he’s walking into a death trap, and I have a front row seat.

  I squint through the tears, a moving shadow catching my attention. The other men don’t notice anything. One of them pulled out a bottle of some amber-colored liquor and now they’re doing shots of it. But not Cappodamo. No, his face is twisted into a grimace directed straight at me. I try not to move my head in the direction of the shadow, knowing it will only cause Cappodamo to follow my gaze. And something tells me I want his attention focused in the opposite direction.

  A loud bang from somewhere outside makes me jump and the guys all drop their shot glasses and pull out their guns. They creep toward the narrow hallway just outside of this room. Something drags across the floor. Something heavy.

  “Ahh! Sonofabitch! I’m fucking leaking out here!” A deep voice grumbles loudly from outside of the room. “I need help!”

  “What the fuck?” Cappodamo cocks his gun and nods to one of his guys. “See what the hell that is. Now!”

  A short, husky thug peeks around the wall, gun pointed, and then disappears, only to report back a second later. “Man down. He’s been shot, and he’s unarmed.”

  “Drag his ass in here now!” Cappodamo bellows.

  I gasp as the thug drags Rocco into the room, dumping him at my feet. “Well, well, look at what Tomaso dragged in. Rocco Lucchese. I heard you came back. Ready to fuck shit up again, huh?’

  Rocco pulls himself to a seated position, mumbling in pain. “Yeah, well, I walked into this shit show to redeem myself and took a bullet instead.” He winces, clutching his side. My eyes widen at the blood stain that has traveled from his lower
abdomen to the top of his leg. Holy hell, who shot him?

  “Who sent you, you little cocksucker?” Cappodamo presses his hand over Rocco’s, and Rocco yells, his face twisted in excruciating pain.

  “Salesi. He told me he was on his way, but I guess he didn’t give a fuck enough about Shaye to get himself over here in person. Instead, he sent me into the crossfire.” Rocco shifts, letting out another loud moan. “Fucking pussy.”

  Cappodamo flips over the table, sending shot glasses and liquor flying into the air. “What fucking crossfire are you talking about? If Salesi isn’t here, then who the hell is?”

  In the distance, a slew of gunshots echo into the air. A slow grin lifts the corners of Rocco’s lips. “The fucking Russian bratva, you asshole. I think they may have a fun way to ring in the New Year. Buckle up, bitch. Shit’s about to get real.”

  Another string of mini explosions sends a violent shudder through me. My fingers, almost numb from being bound so tightly, tremble and shake. I have no idea what the bratva is or what the hell they are doing here tonight of all nights.

  Cappodamo points his gun at one of the men and orders him outside. “Those Russian bastards! Is Ivanov here?” He presses his finger into Rocco’s wound again and Rocco unleashes a string of expletives in response. “Is he?”

  The other two goons creep around the opposite side of the room. Cappodamo stands over Rocco and swings the gun across his face.

  Rocco groans and spits blood at Cappodamo’s feet. “Let’s just say that pretty soon you’re gonna wish the taste of blood was the only thing you experienced tonight, fucker.”

  Cappodamo drops to one knee and grasps Rocco’s neck with one of his hands, his other one now pointed at me. “Tell me who’s out there now or Princess takes one between the eyes.”

  A muffled sob escapes my throat, halted by the tape yet again. Rocco squirms in Cappodamo’s grip, and a series of bullets ricochet off the concrete walls outside of this room.

  One of the guys’ panicked voices shatters the silence. “Tomaso and Luca are down! Boss, there are six of them coming in now. Six! Get the fuck—"

  Out.

  My shoulders shake as I intake quick and sharp gasps of air through my nose. A few more bullets explode outside the room. Cappodamo stumbles backward, releasing his grip on Rocco’s neck. His gun is still pointed at me, his hand unwavering even in the face of imminent death. Rocco rolls away, his hand still pressed to his side. He flounders around on the concrete slab floor, gasping for air. “You think they won’t find you back here?” he rasps. “They will. They always do. You of all people should know that, Cap. The Russians aren’t walking away. Not tonight.”

  “That’s right, Cap.” A gunshot rings out. and Cappodamo falls to the floor, face-first, yelping in agony. A tall, gangly man, dressed in black fatigues, appears in the doorway, a malicious smile on his face. “Did you think I’d forgotten about you?”

  “Viktor.” Cappodamo rolls to his side, glaring up at the man. “Are you that hard up for business that you need to take me out? I’m disappointed. I thought you liked the competition.”

  “Oh. I do,” The man, Viktor, says in a heavy Russian accent. He stands aside. “But not everyone thinks you’re worthy.”

  Nico slips into the room, walking around Viktor. “Well, happy fucking New Year, Cap. Tell me, was this the party you had in mind? Was there enough action for you? Or should we really blow shit up?”

  Cappodamo laughs, a low, dry rumbling sound that makes my skin crawl. “Shooting me in the foot. What a safe move by the man who’s rumored to have never taken a shot at another man. Did it feel good to pull that trigger, Nico? Do you feel like a badass now for shooting me? Like you can run your fucking family now without Daddy and Grandpa calling out the plays for you?” He leans back against the cement wall, his hand still on the trigger of the gun pointed at me. “Your father…both of your fathers…fucked me.” He waves the gun at Nico. “I’ve got one shot, Salesi. Should I blow the head off your pretty little girlfriend? Or should I take you out and give one of the other capos a chance to take control since neither you nor your father know the first thing about how to run your organization?”

  Nico creeps closer, not once averting his eyes from Cappodamo’s pinched face. “I don’t know, Cap. Look at yourself. You can barely keep your own head above water. Is it any wonder why we didn’t want to do business with you? You skimmed hundreds of thousands, you stole from your own suppliers, and you laced your shit with chemicals so you could make it on the cheap.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about my business, you little bastard. And don’t think this ends tonight. There will be payback. Trust me on that. And Princess won’t fare so well next time around.”

  “There won’t be a fucking next time!” A gun shot fires up at the ceiling, and I flinch at the loud crack.

  “Max! What the fuck are you doing? You’re supposed to be standing watch, for fuck’s sake!”

  Cappodamo chuckles and slithers around Nico. “You fucking idiots can’t get out of your own way. It wouldn’t be any fun to shoot you. I’m having too good of a time watching this shit show. And this next part gets even better.” He points the gun at me and my eyes widen. “Say goodnight, Princess.”

  A resounding crack explodes just beyond my ear, and I shoot my legs upward, my full weight forcing the chair against the wall behind me. My head smacks hard against the cold concrete before the chair collapses onto the damp floor.

  Somewhere in the depths of my foggy mind, I hear more gunshots. They’re muffled, just like the sound of my own screams. Or maybe other people are screaming. Since my ears refuse to function, I crack open my eyes from my horizontal position on the scratchy floor. There are a lot of blotches of color in my line of sight, but I can’t make out a single one. Bodies standing, bodies lying on the ground. I can’t tell who’s who. I can’t see Nico. I can’t find Max.

  My eyes drift closed. The heavy and incessant pounding between my temples drown out the distant sounds until the peaceful darkness swallows me whole.

  Nico

  I drop the gun, my finger still trembling from pulling that trigger, the one that extinguished the life of Frank Cappodamo. The metal piece crashes to the ground a couple of feet away from his slumped-over body. One shot to the head. I knew I had to do it, but I hesitated a second too long, and now…

  Goddammit! I allowed the fear and self-doubt to paralyze my actions and because I wasn’t strong enough to break away fast enough, Shaye is lying on the floor hurt…or worse. My stomach roils as I collapse to my knees next to her. Nausea rushes over me as I drag a hand through her tousled hair. The thumping in my chest is deafening, so much so that I barely hear the instructions being shouted at me. Max pushes me out of the way and slices through the duct tape binding her hands and feet together. I reach for a corner of the tape on her mouth, which is already loosened by the tears she’d been crying for the better part of the hour, waiting for me. Me, who was one second too late. Yeah, I’d gotten my first kill, my rite of passage, earned my place…all of that shit, but at what cost?

  It was a price I wasn’t willing to pay, but that choice was yanked away from me moments earlier.

  I slide the chair out from under Shaye, careful not to move her. Still motionless, her head is lying in a puddle of blood, and my heart damn-near stops when I see it. My fingers hover just above her face. Oh fuck, where is this blood coming from? No, no, no…

  Rocco creeps closer, grumbling in pain with each inch covered. “Fuck, is she breathing?”

  I lean closer, pulling the corner of the tape away. Short gasps of air slice at my lungs like I’m inhaling tiny shards of glass, nothing compared to the agony of her not coming back to me. The tape peels away easily enough, but she still doesn’t stir. I lower my head to her mouth, a thin stream of breath warming my nose. “She’s breathing!”

  “Thank fuck.” Max rakes a hand through his hair and kneels next to me. “I’m gonna move her head, okay? Not much, bu
t we need to see where the blood is coming from.”

  “Be careful,” I murmur, squeezing her hands.

  He smooths back her hair and shifts her head to the side just enough to get a look before sitting back on his heels, letting out a deep breath. “The fucking bullet grazed the side of her head. There’s no entry wound. She’s okay. She’s fucking okay!”

  My head falls to her chest and I wrap my arms around her waist. “Come back to me, Shaye,” I murmur. “Come back, baby.”

  Max grabs his phone and dials a number. “Joe, it’s Max. Yeah, it’s done. Nico took care of him.” He grins at me and gives me the thumbs up. “Cap? He’s got a mad headache, the kind that just explodes out of your neck, you know what I’m saying?” He chuckles.

  Rocco groans from his spot on the floor. “Can you stop dicking around and tell old man Salesi we need the doc? I’m fucking bleeding out here.”

  “Don’t be such a pussy,” Max mutters, his hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s a flesh wound.”

  “And I have to work with this douchebag?” Rocco mumbles, still squeezing his side.

  “I may come up with another job for you.” I hold out my hand to him and he smacks it. “You really came through tonight. You took a bullet for me and helped me plug this asshole.” I nod to Cappodamo. “I owe you for that.”

  He nods. “Yeah, you fucking do. And I’ll collect, too.”

  I smirk. “I know it.”

  Max stabs the End button and turns back to us. “Doc is ready for us at his place. We need to get the hell out of here before the cops show up.”

  I eye Cap’s crumpled body one more time, knowing I’ll have to step over plenty more on our way out of this death trap of a building.

  Except we’re the ones leaving in one piece. The trio most likely to get lit up just took out one of the most notorious crews on the East Coast. I popped Cap and my kill cherry. Two birds with one bullet. Happy fucking New Year to me.