Forbidden Bastard
Page 1
Forbidden Bastard
Felicia Lynn
Contents
Title Page
1. - Mercy -
2. - Purpose -
3. - Renewal -
4. - Questions -
5. - Fighter -
6. - Liability -
7. - Trust -
8. - Feeling -
9. - Hurt -
10. - Game -
11. - Safety -
12. - Matter-
13. - Everything -
14. - Whirlwind -
15. - Madness -
16. - Thunderstorms -
17. - Memories -
18. - Time -
19. - Business -
BY FELICIA LYNN
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is no authorized, associated with, or sponsored by trademark owners.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
Cover Art By: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Cover Photograph: Golden Czermak, FuriousFotog
Cover Model: Caylan Hughes
Proofreading by: Georgette Geras
Editing by: Jenny Sims
Forbidden Bastard
Copyright 2017, Felicia Lynn
Heartstrings Ink
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1973946595
ISBN-10: 1973946599
Published in the United States
Created with Vellum
For the people waiting for me to fail:
Keep waiting.
I’m still busy and working hard.
1
- Mercy -
Elianna
Mercy is an illusion. No amnesty exists for the guilt resting on my shoulders. I feel lost, and now there’s this scar on my heart I’m positive will never truly heal. The world, despite the sun continuing to rise at the dawn of each new day, will never shine with the same brilliance again. Just help me understand why it feels like I’m the only one around here not pretending the wind hasn’t just been knocked out of their life. Everything has changed.
Imagining him standing in front of me right now feels too tangible, and the pictures are playing on a speed reel in my head. The imaginary images are so sharp it physically aches to visualize. It may as well be a knife at this point, but regardless, he’d be glowering at me in my current state. The frustration would be evident in his clenched jaw as he scrutinized my attitude through his slightly narrowed eyes, masking the vibrancy of their grayish-green color. He’d growl under his breath, ordering me to breathe in the lovingly critical and bossy tone that annoyed the hell out me. In real life, I would’ve retorted with a smartass response that wouldn’t have had any impact on his demand, but I would’ve at least enjoyed pretending he didn’t have any power over me. I was lucky, though. Very few were ever privy to witnessing that side of him or knew he had that austere disposition, but I was able to see his pain even when he was working hard to hide it. Outwardly, he was the fun-loving jokester and life of the party, but he was so much more than that behind closed doors when he was comfortable enough to be himself.
Matteo was my best friend—my person. He’d been my armor since we were seven years old. Although many in the family speculated our relationship was more than a genuine friendship, as our bond grew tighter throughout the years. Without question, no one was more valuable to me than he was, but it wasn’t what they thought. Thick as thieves, they’d joke. On that part, they were never wrong.
We were personality opposites in every single way, but I loved him deeply as one would cherish a pain in the ass sibling they adored, I’d guess. As an only child, I wouldn’t personally know, but Matteo would’ve, and I’d bet everything I have that given the choice of his brother or me, Matteo and I would’ve stuck together. It’s been us against the world from the start. I was the yin to his yang.
In my vulnerable years, when so many people vowed to be there for me, Matteo was the only one who proved it. Trust—unquestionable. Loyalty—incontestable. He never gave me a reason to second-guess any of his motives or instructions, and when I’d balk at his protective bossiness, he didn’t give up. He wanted what was best for me, and as hard as it is to admit, being a guy in the family gave him the upper hand. He knew, heard, and saw more just because he was born with a penis, and as a girl, I was expected to be oblivious to the world around us. I’m sure they believe that’s the case, but they’re wrong. Matteo told me everything. Secrets were our hard limit.
Matteo has never let me down on any of his promises. That’s why I refuse to believe he willingly broke the most important rule of all. He couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. It was the foundation of who we were. I don’t have a clue where to begin to move on in a life without him. He promised to always be here for me. He wouldn’t turn his back on that.
Biting hard on my lip, I attempt to swallow back the sounds of my heartbreak until my lip forms a pulse from the assault of my teeth. The tears slowly trailing down my cheeks do so little to cloud the view of reality in front of me. I’m smothering in this agony I can’t emotionally fathom as real, and even though I know the result can’t be disputed, someone is hiding the real story in the tunnel of dark secrets. Matteo isn’t here to shield me from this, and regardless of how many calming breaths I take, nothing can change the torment of his absence. The life I’d imagined had so much more promise, but false hope is a bitch. I don’t understand, but at the same time, deep down I know the truth. Not everything is as it seems.
Watching the men in custom suits assemble under the tented awning to take their seats, semi-shadowed behind dark sunglasses with couture dressed beauties on their arms, I want to look away, but I can’t. An empty seat is reserved for me on the front row, just beside the family, but I won’t be sitting in it. I can’t. The betrayal runs deep, and I’m not sure how far the reach is. Matteo played this part better, and his act covered us both from any suspicion of dishonor. We only shared our true feelings on this life amongst ourselves. No one else would accept or understand how much the mere association with the family disgusted us. We would have been considered a liability or loose end that needed to be dealt with, but it doesn’t change the fact we’re one of them. In the perfect world, this life wouldn’t exist, but every day, it’s more and more evident that any other happy and safe fictitious world for us is lost in a land far, far away.
Not one ounce of self-preservation exists in me anymore. I’ve lost all my fucks to give. I never anticipated this happening to him, and that’s precisely why I’m guessing others are actually buying their story. I don’t truly know what happened to Matteo, but I know what didn’t, and I fully intend to learn the truth. The worst that can happen is they’ll kill me too, and at this point, I’m half dead anyway seeing eight strong men carrying the casket of the only person on this planet that I believe truly cared about me, for being myself.
Matteo didn’t have to be my friend. My father was dea
d and no longer the boss. No one had to loyally serve and protect the little mafia princess anymore. They owed me nothing once my uncle, the new boss, took power. Being young, innocent, and unknowing was my saving grace until I grew up and learned some of the hard truths of my life. Then I didn’t need saving grace. I only needed Matteo, and thankfully, he taught me well. My life may never be the same without him, but when my best friend taught me how to protect myself, he gave me the power to stand on my own two feet. Now it’s my turn to show him that it was worth it.
There’s a truth to be found, and I intend to figure it out. There’s zero probability Matteo intentionally chose to take his own life as an escape. They can keep selling that story, and whoever buys it never really knew Matteo anyway, but he deserves better, and I know, with all my heart, he’d never choose that path. He was a fighter with a heart as pure and true as any saint. In all the years I’ve known him, never once had I ever witnessed him give up or back down to anything. There’s no chance in heaven, hell, or any place between that he would’ve thrown in the towel on his fucking life. Sadly, no matter the cause of this tragedy, the outcome is the same; he’s not here anymore. Now I’m left in the aftermath, and my cold, dead heart is filled with more hate and disgust than ever before.
I stand in the distance but close enough to see and be seen. The blood is pumping through my heart so fast I’m convinced it’s going to pound out of my chest. I’m so hurt . . . and angry. These people may not have known Matteo the way I knew him, but I guarantee they don’t know me the way he did either. They have no idea yet, but I’ll be coming for them. And I’m out for the blood of those responsible.
2
- Purpose -
Lucas
There’s no place I want to be less right now than here, for so many reasons, including the obvious. Matteo. What have you done, little brother? I’m not attached to ‘the family’ anymore after the truth of my paternity came out twelve years ago. Although, before that, I never felt like I belonged. For eighteen years of my life, I lived a lie, thinking it was a personality flaw that wouldn’t allow me to emotionally connect with my extended family the same way others did. At the same time, they treated me differently, and I felt that from a young age. I know the majority of these assholes knew the truth long before the day after my eighteenth birthday when my real father showed up.
Learning that the only father I’d ever known wasn’t really my father explained a lot. Alan Black raised me as his oldest son until I learned my true heritage the day Antonio Ruffinelli made himself known. Alan Black is the closest example of a good guy and normal family man of anyone I’ve ever met, but he’s also the well-respected doctor for ‘the family’. I mean, hell, he accepted and loved my mother when she was pregnant with another man’s kid and covered her mistake by claiming me as his own. For that alone, he’s earned my respect, but I’m shocked he got away with that without a bullet in his head for knocking up one of the mafia maidens.
I’m sure the fact he had skills that were of use to the family helped spare his life and is a big part of why he got to marry into the family. When someone’s been hurt or shot and going to a hospital could raise red flags, they call in Alan. I guess that doesn’t make him squeaky clean, but saving street guys and criminals on the down low doesn’t make him too much of a bad guy.
Antonio Ruffinelli, my real father, is a whole different story. I’m almost convinced he’s the ruler of the free world in a lot of capacities. Seven years ago, when he showed up like a ghost in the night, explaining it was time for me to take my rightful place in the family, I wanted nothing to do with the man. He’d always known of my existence, and instead of being a father to me, he allowed another man to fill the position while he secretly watched from a distance. Until the time was right, he made no contact with me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to respect him. I unforgivingly hated and resented the man for leaving me in his dust, but feeling betrayed by everyone I’d ever known, they felt like the bigger liars at that point. In this life, walking away from the family to join another sent a message. One that was permanent and I’d never be able to take back, but my father was a king in his world and was ready to accept me by his side. I wasn’t sure where my loyalties were aligned, but I accepted my father’s offer because I was ready for a change.
Leaving my family wasn’t easy to do, but I knew I’d still see them when I wanted even though I wouldn’t be close. Things were rough for a while, and I was pretty distant with Matteo and my mother, but I did get over it after a while. Regardless of my mother keeping me in the dark from knowing my true parentage, I’m sure she had her reasons, and it’s not something I care to discuss anymore by ripping open old wounds. I’m a man, and like everyone else, I know the truth now. I’m the only son she has left, and if losing my little brother doesn’t actually kill her, I’ll do everything in my power to always keep her safe. Although my stepfather is associated with the Nicchi family by being the doctor, he’s only a contractor. He’ll never be ‘family.’ Being a true member of this world comes with privileges. For me, one of them is sending a message I’m willing to defend, regardless of the consequences: Don’t fuck with my family without expecting to live out eternity on a hot bed of coals.
My little brother . . . there’s not much to say. The day my mother walked in the door from the hospital after delivering my brother, it was over. All it took was setting my eyes on that screaming boy wrapped in that silky blue blanket. Love him or hate him, it didn’t matter. Even being six years old, my mind was made up. I would protect him.
He was my only little brother, and even though our age difference caused some distance, especially since I left home when he was in middle school, I would’ve willingly taken a bullet for that kid. I didn’t care that he was a pain in my ass nine times out of ten. Growing up, no one would’ve fucked with Matteo, deserving or not, without catching an ass beating from me. Not that too many tried, but even if they did, he really didn’t need me too much anyway.
Matteo didn’t want anything to do with the family business, but he was still ‘family, ’ and if he did want in officially, it wouldn’t have been questioned. He had skills that could’ve been useful if he’d chosen that path and was a known badass from early on. The kid could fight like few others. He was passionate about kickboxing and excelled at it from an early age. By the time he was a grown man still engaged in the sport, he’d developed pro-level talents and skills. He was deadly, in spirit and blood, but the clown was harmless . . . unless, of course, one of his own was under attack. Then all bets were off because no one would’ve staked against my kid brother.
I’m not a member of this family in any capacity other than being my mother’s son, but I’m also not an enemy. Our families communicate, and not that I’d ever confirm it’s possible, but we’d willingly work together for the right deal or agreement. Either way, I’m not in the know about whatever went down with Matteo, and I’m not within rights to question anything other than the information I’m given. I know one thing for sure, though. The story they’re feeding me and everyone else is bullshit. Unfortunately, I’m not in the position to question it without getting killed or starting a war. For now, while I’m here, it’s my job to be the dutiful son and grieving brother. When I get back home, it’s a whole different story. I’ll find out which of these traitorous bastards has lied to my face, and I’ll be making reservations for them in hell.
Telling me my brother was stressed, in too deep over some fucking gambling debt, and felt his only way to escape his creditors was with a slipknot isn’t even within reasonable doubt as an explanation. Sergio Vigo has promised me personally to investigate and avenge Matteo, but fuck if the whole thing doesn’t smell fishy. Matteo was many things, but he wasn’t fucking stupid. Also, if my brother really were in over his head with creditors for a gambling debt, believe me, I’d have known it. LONG AGO. Guaranteed.
Thankfully, I’ve been in the business long enough to know how to play this game. The poker face is in p
lace for now, and I’ll let them keep lying and digging their graves one by one. The last thing I want is to have blood shed at my baby brother’s funeral service, but I’ll be counting the seconds until I get back to my territory. Then I can get the answers I need, and it won’t be hard. No one will lie to my face on my damn turf unless, of course, they like swimming with the fucking sharks.
I take one of the reserved seats under the awning and scoot in next to my mother, taking one of her hands in mine. Seeing her like this is killing me. She’s a train wreck, having not seen this coming, but in her defense, no one did. Matteo was a great kid. Although he was associated with ‘the family,’ he wasn’t trouble. Sure, his talent gave him a certain skill that made him a suspect more often, but his hands were clean.
My stepfather places his arm across my mother’s shoulders from her other side when her sobs become more vocal as the hearse pulls in. She never takes her eyes off the car until it’s out of sight parked behind the large concrete structure of the family crypt. Fuck.
Shaking my head, nothing sucks worse than this, and I’m just not prepared for the finality of it. Alan, with his arm still embracing my mother across her shoulders, grips my shoulder with a little squeeze as a symbolic and supportive gesture. I look up, meeting his eyes, and see the pain there too. Damn, I feel bad for him too. Losing your only son can’t be any easier. Still, he’s trying to be the man of the family and take care of us all. He nods quickly without any words before turning his attention to the harpist and priest making their way this direction.