Embedded in Franco and Monty’s complicated business dealings were legitimate enterprises; real estate, investments, and restaurants, like Firenze. I poured over contracts and financial documents, consulted wealth managers, and business consultants, and came up with a plan to separate the legal from the illegal. I even sold my stake in Madame Cherie’s brothel back to her.
As boss, I made the decision; the Mariano’s were going legit. If Uncle Franco was dead, he’d roll over in his grave.
When I told Snake, Bruno, and Anthony about my plans, they didn’t know how to take it. I couldn’t blame them. We’d all been born into this life. We’d navigated the shadowy depths of the black market since we were teens. We didn’t have any formal education. This was all we knew.
Still, they stood by me. They didn’t want to raise their families in this life any more than I did. Together, we transitioned from the Mariano Crime Family, to Mariano Holdings, LLC. My title changed from boss to CEO. Snake went from underboss to COO. My capos became senior level management. Bruno even went back to school to earn a business degree. Everything we do is above board. And there’s no need to pay off cops or city officials any more.
And so, my days of guns, brothels, revenge, and criminal intrigue came to end. I no longer chase adrenaline highs, because at the height of my carnal madness, they were never high enough. I carry a briefcase to work every day. At night I lay my head against Molly’s growing belly to feel the baby move. When a limb brushes against my hand, I make them a promise; I will not be like my father. I worry that I’m incapable of being a good father, because, in honesty, I don’t know what that looks like. But I know Molly will help guide me. Her compassion is my guiding light. Every day, she teaches me how to live.
Now, I haven’t gone all soft. Molly and I still enjoy a romp in my dungeon from time to time. Though with her pregnancy, our sex life has become increasingly vanilla. But I’m content. I don’t need dark excitement any more.
Molly is all I need. And that’s okay.
The End
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Salvatore and Molly’s story.
Hungry for more dark mafia romance now? Keep clicking ahead for sample chapters of HOSTAGE, the first book in my Romano Brothers Series.
Thank you for reading, and for supporting an independent author. And don’t forget to leave a review on Amazon.
Best,
Samantha
Hostage
A Dark Mafia Romance
Samantha Cade
‘Hostage’ Copyright Samantha Cade 2016
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
———————-
Mia
Pretend.
That’s what I have to do. That’s all I can do. In this snake’s den, they can smell fear, sense any small vulnerability that can be exploited.
I wipe the innocent doe look from my face, tighten my jaw and lower my eyebrows, and pretend. I pretend that these aren’t very, very bad guys. I pretend that the ungodly amount of liquor they’re consuming isn’t out of the ordinary, and neither is the guy crushing up pills in every one of his shot glasses. I pretend they aren’t killers and thieves, and ignore the fresh gash that runs diagonally across the pill crusher’s cheek. I pretend I’m not certain that the guy who did that is dead.
I tell myself that the warehouse hidden in the industrial part of town doesn’t give me the creeps. The dim, hazy glow that hangs just above the card table isn’t foreboding at all. I don’t ask myself where the nearest police station is.
This is all worth it. Just one night will pay for one month’s rent. Just one night. And all I have to do is pretend.
The bartender loads up my tray with shots of vodka. I hesitate, watching the clear liquid ripple in the small glasses. The bartender gestures impatiently. I lift the tray carefully on my shoulder, and teeter towards the card table on my impossibly high heels.
I pretend the skimpy red dress I’m wearing isn’t showing half of my ass, and that it doesn’t ride up even further when I walk. The goosebumps spreading across my chest and the top of my boobs aren’t from fear, but the cold draft sweeping through the open space.
I circle around the card table, slipping the drinks in front of them so quickly they don’t notice me. I’m quiet as a mouse, invisible. The men are engaged in a story told by a man with a clean shaven head. His eyes light up as he mimes dragging a knife across his throat. The other’s respond boisterously, shouting in the gruff language I don’t understand.
My tray is nearly empty. I’ve almost gone unnoticed. When I get to Pill Crusher, he turns and grabs the shot from my tray. I should turn and go quickly, but I’m caught staring at the dried blood that’s nestled in the wrinkles of his cheek. He gives me a sickening smile, then gestures to the wound on his face, murmuring something in Russian.
I push the terror from my face with a forced smile, and nod politely. When I turn to leave, Pill Crusher grabs my wrist, sending the empty tray toppling to the floor. I pretend my ankle doesn’t twist painfully when he pulls me towards him.
I bang into the side of him. He twists my arm around my back, pinning it there. His lips open and close wetly as he talks, trailing his eyes up and down my body. I pretend my nipples aren’t standing stiff against the thin fabric of my dress, and that he doesn't smirk when he sees them. I pretend he’s not going to drag me into the back room, like the other men have done with the other girls.
Pill Crusher reaches down and grabs a big handful of my ass. I don’t want to dig my nails into the gash in his cheek. He abruptly shoves me away, and turns back to his card game. I retreat back to the bar, pretending I’m not wholly relieved.
I fiddle around the bar, trying to look busy. Out of the corner of my eye I see Dani. She’s a master, a professional. I watch her chat flirtatiously with a man with a spider tattooed on his face. She twirls her long dark hair and bats her lashes. When he makes a move towards her, she presses her hand against his chest with a giggle. He watches her ass as she turns from him and slinks towards me.
“How’s it going?” Dani asks, squeezing my arm. The bartender slides a tumbler of bourbon in front of her. She picks it up and takes a sip. “I told you it was easy money, didn’t I?”
I nod, pretending I agree with her. When I speak, my voice croaks. I clear my throat and drop the pretense.
I grab her arm and whisper in her ear. “Dani, these guys are scary as hell.”
She rolls her dark eyes. “What did you expect? I told you this was the mob.”
“Shhh,” I say, my eyes darting around the room.
Dani laughs, a light, tinkling laugh. “It’s no secret to anyone here.”
“I’ve just never…” My voice trails off as I look to the card table where the men have erupted in loud yells. The bald man stands and triumphantly smashes a beer bottle over his head. Blood drips into his eyes as he beats his fists against his chest. I exhale forcefully, then turn back to Dani. “I’ve never been around these kind of people before. I’m not supposed to be here.”
Dani’s lips twist, and her smile disappears. “None of us are supposed to be here, but here we are.” She downs the rest of her drink, then slams it on the bar. “Can I tell you something, Mia? Once I stopped being the victim, I wasn’t one anymore.”
I turn towards the bar, ignoring her gaze. What she says doesn’t make sense. I don’t have a choice, never have. But I don’t tell her that. Dani’s been carrying my ass for months now, paying my share of the rent when I couldn’t come up with it. The least I can do is suck it up and make some money.
Dani sighs apologetically. “There’s nothing wrong with doing whatever you can to take care of yourself. It’s good money, really good money for a night’s work.” She nudges my side with her elbow. “And you can make even more if you’re willing to do some overtime.”
My face twists with disgust. I immediately wipe it away, wondering if I’ve offended Dani. She just shrugs her shoulders and walks b
ack to Spider Face.
Chapter Two
——————-
Leo
My black hoodie is pulled low over my head as I watch the card game through the window. I have to be very still. If they so much as sense my presence, or glimpse my shadowy figure, they won’t hesitate to draw their guns and shoot out the window. Luckily, I’m an expert at being invisible.
Everything’s exactly the same as before I left. The same chairs, same glasses, the same scuffed up wooden floor. A single cue stick is still missing from the set beside the pool table. The corners of my lips twitch when I remember where it went, and what I did with it.
The people have changed though. And what did I expect after ten years? Uncle Tony is a little more gray and wrinkled. Vince changed his hair. The sides are shaved close to his scalp, and a thick swath of black hair sits gelled on top of his head. He’s bulked up more. I don’t remember his biceps being that big.
The one who’s changed most of all is Mateo, my youngest brother. When I left, he was still a kid. Now, he’s a full grown man, filled out and strong. His eyes are different. They’re dark, intense, not bright and hopeful like when he was a teenager, bragging that one day he’d leave Jersey to start a rock band. He swore he would never be like the rest of us. That was before they got to him. Before he realized that this life wasn’t a choice, not when you were a son of Dominic Romano.
My breath fogs the window. I realize I’ve been standing here a lot longer than I’d intended. I’d only meant to get a peek, to scope out the situation before I went walking into it. That’s a habit I picked up from the army, and don’t intend on dropping any time soon. It’s served me well, and saved my skin more times than I can count.
It occurs to me that I can turn and walk away. They’re not expecting me. For all they know, I’m crouching in a spider hole deep in the desert dry asshole of Earth. My discharge was so unexpected and swift, I didn’t think to tell anyone I was coming home.
I don’t have to walk back into that.
I clench my teeth at the thought, but I know I won’t follow through. A Romano never turns his back on his family. Maybe it’s that old saying that makes me pull open the door, or maybe I want to search Mateo’s eyes to see if that spark is still there. Somewhere.
Every one of them reach for the gun on their hip when they hear me enter. In my mind, I plot out how I’d take each of them out with a single bullet before they ever got their gun out of the holsters. I hear each shot. Boom, boom, boom, boom. Not that I want to kill my family, it’s just another habit that’s hard to break.
The hood falls from my head. I feel the air from the overhead fan against my close shaven scalp. Their hands freeze at their holsters, and they squint at me like they’re seeing things. They’re frozen for a few moments, and I’m starting to feel like an idiot just standing there. I spread out my arms and cock an eyebrow.
“You’re just going to let me stand here with my dick in my hand? Come on.” I swat the air and move towards them with open arms.
“Leo, you’re back,” Vince says, his shock slowly wearing off. He stands from his chair and wraps me in a big hug. “Good to see you, man,” he whispers in my ear.
Mateo comes to me, stammering and smiling. “I can’t believe it. Is that really you?” He rubs the top of my head to be sure.
“Would you look at what the cat dragged in,” Uncle Tony says, lumbering towards me. He opens his huge arms, then wraps me tightly around my waist. All the men in our family are big, and Uncle Tony’s no exception. The guy’s almost seven feet and stronger than an ox. He lifts me a foot off of the ground while nearly squeezing the breath out of me. “Little Leo. Welcome back.”
Uncle Tony sets me on my feet, and I stumble a little. “It’s good to be home. Good to see all you guys.”
“So what? You on leave? Just finish a tour or something?” Vince asks.
I jerk my head to the side. “Or something.”
Vince gets the picture, and doesn’t ask any more questions. He turns back to the deck of cards and starts to shuffle.
Mateo leans forward on his elbows and looks me directly in my eyes. “How’s it going over there? You kicking their ass?”
I grab a shot of bourbon that’s sitting on the table and gulp it down. “All day, everyday,” I say.
“That’s awesome, man.” Mateo leans towards me. “How many have you killed?”
I get that question all the time, and it’s a tricky one to answer. The best thing to do is give the asker what they want to hear. In this case, it also happens to be the truth.
“Lost count,” I say with a cocky shrug.
Mateo sits back in his chair, nodding approvingly. He’s always looked up to me, and the awe in his eyes is familiar.
“Look at my Little Leo,” Uncle Tony says. He pinches my cheek. “A real American hero.”
“Stop, stop,” I say, pushing him away. “Do me a favor, and act like I never left. Vince, deal me in. And where can I get a beer around here?”
I look around the table expectantly, but the tone has suddenly changed. Vince and Mateo have gone silent, and are staring at something behind me.
“Leo, that you?”
I turn around and see my father standing there. Even though he’s not loud, he’s a larger than life kind of guy. He fills a room with his size and the intensity of his presence. That much hasn’t changed, though his shoulders are a little hunched now. Despite that, and the graying around his temple, he still had the ability to terrify a man with just one look.
“Hey, Pop,” I say, standing up. “It is me.”
I know better than to go in for a hug. With a smile on my face, I wait for him. He nods, then turns towards his office. He flicks his hand behind him, signaling for me to follow.
“I’ll get in on the next game,” I say to my brothers.
Pop opens the door to his office, and allows me to go inside first. He closes it, then takes his time walking around in front of me. He stares at me for a few moments. His heavy breathing is the only sound in the room. His lips spread into a tight smile, and he slams his broad hand down on my shoulder.
“Leo, Leo,” he says, looking into my eyes. “I’m so glad you’re home.” He slips his arm around my shoulder, and draws me in for a hug.
“Thanks, Pop,” I say.
Pop pulls back, smacks my back a couple of times, then sits behind his desk. He gestures for me to sit on the leather couch in front.
“So, how long will you be visiting?” Pop asks, leaning back in his chair.
I lean forward, rubbing my palms on my jeans. “Not a visit. I’m back for good.”
“Huh, I see. You a deserter or something?”
“No,” I say, quickly. “It was an honorable discharge.”
“Honorable,” he repeats, rolling the word around on his tongue. He raises his shoulders. “For what?”
Unlike my brothers, I know Pop isn’t going to let me get away without telling him the whole truth. I decide not to drag it out any longer.
“After my last psych eval, they decided the tour I just finished should be my last.”
Pop chuckles, nodding slowly to himself. “You couldn’t handle being a sniper, huh?”
I lower my forehead towards him. “No. It’s not that the killing affected me too much. It wasn’t affecting me at all.”
Pop’s eyes narrow. He looks at me with admiration, and something else. Fear, maybe?
“Listen,” I say. “On my way from the bus stop, I saw someone selling on Third and Banker. It wasn’t one of our guys. He looked like a Ruskie.”
I brace myself, expecting Pop to be incensed at this news. Instead, he drums his fingertips against his desk, and turns his lips downward.
“You want me to take care of it?” I say. “I can go down there right now, scare the little prick off.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“What do you mean it’s not necessary? That’s our turf.”
Pop flits his eyes up to me
, then looks down at his desk. “It’s not ours anymore.”
I jump up from the chair, fueled by rage. “Like hell it isn’t.”
“Leo, settle down.” Pop holds his hands up, showing me his palms. I glare down at him, wondering if he’s lost his edge after all these years. He pulls a cigar from his desk drawer and bites the end. “You’ve been gone a long time. Thing’s have changed. That’s their territory now.”
“Like hell it is.”
“We worked out a deal. Ended that senseless war.”
I make a fist and plant it on his desk. “You mean the senseless war that killed Nico? Have you forgotten about that?”
Pop stands slowly to his full height. My father used to seem like a towering giant to me. Now, we can look at each other eye to eye.
“I haven’t forgotten,” he says, poking me in the chest. “Nico isn’t the only one we lost. A lot a good guys died fighting for our family’s pride. I said, no more, and ended it. While you were gone, I was here, making the tough decisions.”
My lips curl inward, baring my teeth. “While I was gone, I was serving my country.”
Pop takes a step towards me. His eyes narrow to slits. “While you were gone, you weren’t serving this family.”
We lock eyes, both with hard expressions, daring the other to make a move. The moment dissolves when Vince walks into the office.
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