Matteo (Dark Erotic Mob Romance) (Rossi Family Book 1)

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Matteo (Dark Erotic Mob Romance) (Rossi Family Book 1) Page 17

by Rachael Orman


  When Aida finally told me about her hip, I demanded she use Gia for help with what she could. I knew it was only a matter of time before Gia had to take over for Aida. She was getting up there in years anyway, and I’d known a replacement was going to be needed soon.

  Knowing that Aida would be gone, I planned for Monique to leave town for a week so that I could fully indulge in my bella again. The need was too strong to deny. The time went by too quickly, and I’d become accustomed to having her nearby to play with or waiting for me every night. When Monique returned, she’d instantly known something had happened while she was gone and started pressing for answers and pestering me about everything.

  Since my wife was back, my father invited himself and a few of my cousins over for dinner the following night, which I was thankful for to help ease the tension while I figured out how to get my wife off my back. However, when Monique came screaming to me saying she found my father and Gia having sex, or what appeared to be sex since my father’s pants were around his thighs, his bare ass in view, I was incensed.

  I didn’t listen to a single word, only feeling the pain at having been betrayed by not only my father, but also the woman I’d been struggling to hide my feelings for. My heart felt like it had been stabbed, and I wanted her to suffer like I undoubtedly would.

  It took me a long time to calm down after that. I constantly fought with Monique about my intense reaction to the situation and the other marks she’d glimpsed on Gia when I’d pulled her to the basement. After that, I found I didn’t care. I didn’t care about my wife. I certainly didn’t love her, didn’t need her in my life. Really, I didn’t care about my family, the crew of men and what we did to make a living. I didn’t want any of it.

  Then my father came to my house one day to find me wearing a dirty suit, hair disheveled, and smelling like a bottle of bourbon.

  “Look at you. So fucking pathetic,” Fausto sneered at me.

  “Fuck off,” I growled, taking another drink.

  “What has your panties all in a twist now? Have to kill another member of the family for touching your little slave? Or maybe you’re still upset about sharing with your old man,” he smirked, sitting in a chair across the desk from me.

  “She wasn’t yours to touch,” I barked, slamming my glass down on the desktop.

  “You are the one in the wrong. Slaves aren’t meant to be treated special. They are fucking property. I wanted to get off and she was the only ass available, so I took it. Get over it,” Fausto said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You’ve always let pussy distract you, which is why I took her ass. I knew you would cry like a schoolboy if I took that pussy. Plus, it’s more fun to tear open a tight asshole.”

  Anger flared in me and I jumped across the desk, wrapping my hands around his neck. His eyes bulged in surprise, but he smiled.

  “Oh, that upsets you does it? Knowing that I raped her little ass, tore it wide open, making her bleed on my cock? Then I left the sweet little peach a matching bite mark from good ol’ pop on the other side of her neck so she’d remember who was the stronger man of the two of us,” Fausto spat out even as his face turned red.

  I tightened my grip around his throat with each word. It was only then I remembered that Gia had been trying to tell me she’d been raped, that it hadn’t been consensual.

  Reaching behind my back, I pulled my gun from my pants and unloaded the magazine into my father’s head. Blood splattered over the walls, floor and chair.

  His body fell to the floor, lifeless. His face would be forever locked in the surprised look that had flashed over his face when I’d pulled the weapon on him.

  I didn’t need any more of his lies. I wouldn’t put up with him anymore.

  It was time for me to take over as head.

  Aida rushed into my office, her face pale. She’d only returned the day before when I’d begged her to help prepare food since I was hopeless at it myself.

  “Sir, she’s been raped!” Aida exclaimed before noticing the mess in the room and the body on the floor. She slapped a hand over her mouth and stepped back.

  “I know,” I said grimly. I’d let Gia down yet again. What a mess I was. The woman I loved constantly suffered from my hand. I wish I had the control to let her go, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t possible.

  “A... and I think she might be pregnant,” Aida interrupted my thoughts with the most unexpected statement.

  “Find out,” I answered on autopilot.

  Aida vanished, and I made the necessary calls to let the crew know a change in leadership had taken place. I also got a cleanup crew on their way to dispose of the body.

  “Sir?” Aida was in the doorway again. “She is pregnant.”

  I groaned and ran a hand over my face. She’d been down in the crappy basement for months with very little food and was suffering while she was pregnant. Tugging on my hair, I rose from the chair.

  “Matteo, you might want to change your shirt and wash your face,” Aida spoke up as I pushed past her.

  I glanced down to realize that I had blood splattered all over my shirt, arms and likely my face. Shrugging out of my jacket and shirt, I grabbed another shirt from the nearby dresser that I always kept extra clothes in for such an occasion before using the wet cloth Aida provided me with to wipe my face and arms down.

  My head in a fog, I went down to retrieve my bella and hope that I could make up for all the horrible things I’d done to her. I knew I couldn’t stay with her, not while she was pregnant. I didn’t trust myself to not screw up again and hurt her.

  After bathing my beauty and doing my best to express the love I felt for her, I put her into her bed, then packed my bags.

  My time away was torture. I knew she was upset that I’d left her alone, but I sent Aida in when she was up to it to check on her and the house. She could’ve run and I’d have no way to stop her, but it was her choice. I needed her to make the choice to stay with me or take my child and run.

  I was close by when Aida called to tell me they were on the way to the hospital and I sat outside Gia’s room listening to her wails of pain while she handled it all alone, but once I heard the beautiful, innocent cries of the baby, I couldn’t wait. I barged into the room and felt the world stop. Everything fell away except the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen and the tiny baby she held in her arms. My child. Our child.

  That was the first time I ever said the three little words no one ever said to me, not and truly meant. “I love you.”

  I would never be able to leave them alone again. I needed to have them in my life, to see them every day.

  Two short days later, I was driving them home and I’d never been more afraid in my life. A gun in my face, a blade at my throat, nothing compared to that little life in the backseat depending on me to take care of him.

  Months flew by as I did my best to be there for them, but it was hard. I was putting things into motion with the crew as I took over. A lot of people demanded my attention, and instead of spending time holding my child or the woman I loved, I spent the great majority of it in my office on my phone.

  “Hey,” Gia said softly as she pushed open the door one evening. It was late; she’d already served dinner and put the baby down for the night. She had insisted on still doing her chores and cooking as much as she could until I could find a replacement for Aida.

  “Bella, come on in,” I said, putting aside my phone and leaning back in the chair.

  Ever since she’d come home with the baby, things had grown much more comfortable between us, and she didn’t look down when she spoke to me or call me sir anymore. I hadn’t laid a hand on her except to pull her close when I finally crawled into bed in the wee hours of the morning.

  She gave me a sultry smile, walking toward me, swaying her hips.

  “I need something from you,” she said before yanking her dress over her head, revealing her nude body.

  I groaned as my cock instantly grew hard and demanding at the sight.

  �
��No, bella. I can’t,” I said shaking my head. No matter how much I wanted her, I couldn’t touch her. Not until I was sure I could control my urges.

  “Yes, you can.” She swung a leg over my hips and sat in my lap facing me. Hot, damp heat radiated along my length. “I want you any way you want to give it to me.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I sighed and pressed my forehead to her neck.

  “Don’t think of it that way. Think of it as giving me what I want, what I need,” she said, rolling her pelvis against mine.

  “Tell me what you want.” I couldn’t keep my hands from sliding up her smooth back and back down again to pull her firmly against me.

  “You. The belt. The wand. All of it. Spank me. Shock me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me soft. I don’t care, just touch me. Don’t you see? You’ve shown me the pleasure that comes from it all. The pleasure that is wrapped up in pain when it’s done right. The pleasure only you can give me,” she pleaded with me as she gripped the back of my neck.

  “On one condition…” I said. I’d gotten the paperwork a few days prior. After battling for so long, I finally gave Monique whatever she wanted just to get rid of her, and now I was free to do what I should’ve done long ago.

  “I love you so much. I love Matteo Junior so much. There is only one thing I have left to ask for in this world. Would you make me the happiest I’ve ever been and be my wife?”

  She answered without hesitation as a tear rolled down her cheek, “Yes, my love.”

  Domestic violence is a learned behavior and a choice, be it conscious or subconscious. It's cyclical, a pattern that can begin slowly with words and spin quickly into more dangerous actions. There are ways to escape. There are also ways for an abuser to get help to end his or her behavior.

  Please contact your local domestic violence resource center or the national hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) for help! You don't have to be alone. Professional help is there to help you escape or learn to end the violence. The best way to move forward is to do it with the assistance of someone to support you through every step of the way.

  Here are some disturbing statistics regarding domestic violence. Within the next sixty seconds, twenty people will be physically abused by an intimate partner. One in 5 women and 1 in 7 men have been victims of severe physical violence by an intimate partner in their lifetime.One in 5 women and 1 in 7 men have been raped in their lifetime. Intimate partner crime accounts for 15% of allviolent crime. Almost half of female (46.7%) and male (44.9%) victims of rape in the United States were raped by an acquaintance. Of these, 45.4% of female rape victims and 29% of male rape victims were raped by an intimate partner.

  (Domestic violence statistics found on www.ncadv.org, the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence.)

  Human trafficking is a worldwide horror. There are more slaves in the world today than ever before. They are found on every continent, and in nearly every nation, including countries as small as Iceland. More than 75% of human trafficking is for sex slavery. Those individuals, including infants and children, are "conditioned" using various methods (almost all mentioned in this book): starvation, rape, gang rape, physical abuse, beating, confinement, threats of violence toward the victim and victim's family, forced drug use, and shame.(a) In a matter of a few years, human trafficking will overtake the drug trade as the most profitable in the world. New York, California and Florida are the states where most human trafficking occurs within the United States, and those individuals are used mostly for the sex industry, though some are used in "sweatshops", domestic servitude, and farm work.

  These individuals are not forgotten. More needs to be done to end this plague on humanity. Please be aware of your surroundings, because in nearly half of all cases, the victim knows their "recruiter"/abductor.

  See www.facts.randomhistory.com/human-trafficking-facts.html

  a

  Malarek, Victor. 2003. The Natashas: Inside the New Global Sex Trade. New York, NY: Arcadia Publishers.

  More Books By Rachael Orman

  Rossi Family (Mob Series)

  Matteo

  In The Moment Series (M/M/F Menage)

  Part One – FREE

  Part Two

  Part Three

  Part Four

  Part Five

  Her Series (Biker)

  Her Ride (Ryan & Ellis)

  Her Journey (Melia & Patrick)

  Her Run (Blaze & Monk)

  Cravings Series (BDSM)

  Lost Desires (Prequel) - FREE

  Addict - FREE

  Fiend

  Yearning Series (M/F/F Menage)

  Yearning Devotion

  Yearning Absolution

  Other Works

  In Flight (M/F/M Menage – Short Story)

  Loneliness Ebbs Deep – CoWritten by Adrian J. Smith – F/F – Monster Erotica

  Love is a Mess Anthology – Bar Tryst (F/F Short)

 

 

 


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