The Vendetti Coward: Salvatore Vendetti (The Vendetti Famiglia Book 4)

by Sapphire Knight

  The Vendetti Coward

  Copyright © 2021 by Sapphire Knight

  Cover Design: CT Cover Creations

  Editing: Editing Done Write

  Format: N. E. Henderson

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  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 not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Contents

  Warning

  Vendetti Famiglia

  Timeline

  Frequent Terms in the Vendetti Famiglia

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Sapphire

  Sneak Peek - Gangster

  About the Author

  Warning

  This novel includes graphic language and adult situations. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be hotspots for certain individuals. This book is intended for ages 17 and older due to steamy spots and a darker taboo storyline. This work is fictional. The story is meant to entertain the reader and may not always be completely accurate. Any reproduction of these works without Author Sapphire Knight’s written consent is pirating and will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.

  This book is fiction.

  The guys are over the top Alphas.

  My men and women are nuts.

  This is not real.

  Don’t steal my shit.

  Read for enjoyment.

  This is not your momma’s cookbook.

  Easily offended people should not read this.

  Don’t be a dick.

  Dedicated to:

  Quickie fans.

  Who needs long and drawn out?

  Wham, bam, thank you ma’am me,

  and let’s get on with life.

  Vendetti Famiglia

  Romano and Liliana Vendetti – Parents

  Capo dei tutti retired

  Matteo ‘Ruthless’ Vendetti (35) – 1st Capo dei capi

  (head of the famiglia)

  wife- Violet Vendetti

  daughter- Liliana Vendetti

  Salvatore Vendetti (32) – 2nd

  wife- Annabella Vendetti

  daughter- Rosa Vendetti

  Valentino ‘Casanova’ Vendetti (29) – 3rd Sottocapo

  (underboss to fill in for Matteo)

  Dante ‘Devil’ Vendetti (26) – 4th Rappresentante

  Luciano Vendetti (23) – 5th Soldato

  Santino Vendetti (20) – 6th Soldato

  Cristiano Vendetti (18) – 7th Mafioso

  (newest made man in the famiglia)

  wife- Arianna Vendetti

  son- Romeo Matteo Vendetti

  Timeline

  Matteo and Violet marry (The Vendetti Empire)

  Matteo and Violet have Liliana 10 months later (The Vendetti Queen)

  Cristiano and Sofia marry at year 2 (The Vendetti Queen)

  Salvatore and Sofia have Rosa at year 2.10 (The Vendetti Seven)

  Cristiano and Arianna have Romeo at year 3 (The Vendetti Seven)

  Salvatore and Annabella marry at year 3.9 (The Vendetti Coward)

  Matteo and Violet have Damiano at year 4.3

  Salvatore and Annabella have 2nd child at year 5.0

  Matteo and Violet have 3rd child (boy) at year 5.11

  Matteo and Violet have 4th child at year 9.6

  Frequent Terms in the Vendetti Famiglia

  (Glossary brought over from past books)

  Capo dei capi – Boss of bosses

  Capo - Boss

  Sottocapo – Underboss

  Caporegime – Captain

  Rappresentante - Representative

  Soldato/Soldati – Soldier/Soldiers

  Made man – Initiated mafia member

  Polizia – Police

  Famiglia – Family

  Bella – Beautiful

  Moglie – Wife

  Fidanzata – Fiancé

  Fiore – Flower

  Violetta – Violet

  Grazie – Thanks

  Il miei fratelli- My brothers

  Fratello/fratelli- Brother/brothers

  Fratello maggiore- Older brother

  Mio/mia- My

  la mia famiglia – My family

  Mia moglie- My wife

  Si- Yes

  Neonata- Baby girl

  Il mia amata- My beloved

  Una puttana- A whore

  Capisci- Understand

  Bambino/a- Baby boy/girl

  Amore – Love

  Scusa – Excuse me

  Dolcezza – Sweetness

  Affetto – Affection

  Sorella – Sister

  Porca Miseria – Miserable pig

  Fica - Cunt

  Batuffolo – Dumpling

  Tesoro – Treasure

  Bellissima – Gorgeous

  Signorina – Miss/young lady

  Marito – Husband

  Amore mio – My love

  Pezzo di merda – Piece of shit

  Mia amata – My beloved

  Cara- Dear

  Serpente/Serpe – Snake

  Silenzio – Silence

  Cazzo – Fuck

  Dio Santo – Oh my God

  Zia – Aunt

  While I strive to be as authentic as possible in all languages I incorporate, there may be a mistake in here, although verified through several sources.

  It’s fiction. Please read it for the story. Thank you.

  Don’t judge my choices

  when you don’t understand

  my reasons.

  - Mafia Style

  I have a daughter… The severity hits me again for the thousandth time since my brother told me the news. She deserves more than me. Hell, any of my brothers would’ve been an improvement when compared to me. You see, I’m the drunk of the famiglia. The embarrassment.

  Having Romano for a father, can you blame me for wanting to wash everything away? He was a nightmare, yet all we knew, aside from a vanishing mother and the nannies who attempted to fill her place. He was determined his sons would become the perfecto soldati—merciless and cold. He succeeded with a few of us, but not me… I buried myself away every chance I got, always feeling far too much.

  I never expected this to happen, to be told I’m the father of an innocent bambina. I don’t remember sleeping with her mother in the first place, but apparently we did on more than one occasion, considering she got pregnant. Not only that, but
it never should’ve happened. I’ve had a vasectomy for many years, yet it appears our Vendetti name lives up to its full potential. What am I supposed to do with a child, when I can’t stay sober for more than a month or two?

  It’s not just alcohol either. No, I like my poisons in a wide variety, no biases where my escape is concerned, so long as it happens. My not-so-secret habit began as a young teen, sneaking the wine from church. Once the alcohol took effect and it blurred my life, I couldn’t seem to get enough. From there, it blossomed into a full-blown obsession. I was fixated on forgetting the responsibilities bestowed on me by my last name, by the Capo dei tutti.

  With Matteo as the first, there was no way I could ever compare, no matter how hard I may’ve tried when I was a boy. Not that I can blame Matteo for being the man he is. If anything, I owe him my life. To say Father wasn’t amused with me shirking my duties is a gross understatement. I was destined to one day be the underboss. I’m number two, and there’s plenty of weight that comes with that title. I fucked off any chance I got, determined to escape. It ruined my life, made me a complete failure to the Vendetti legacy, but in the end, my burden was passed on to the right brother.

  Number three, Valentino fucking perfect Vendetti, has so eloquently stepped up to fill the shoes of underboss. I got what I wanted: I won. Romano attempted to beat the failure out of me many times over the years when I was growing up, but Matteo and Valentino took the brunt of it for me. I coped with the guilt by drinking more, drowning out my emotions. What else could I do? I was used to being the coward at that point, the disappointment. It sounds like I’m angry, but I’m not. Quite the opposite actually. I’m grateful Valentino wanted to be Matteo’s sidekick so badly he’d have killed me for the spot.

  This is the first time I’ve been sent to a full-fledged rehabilitation center. Romano had people come to the estate, determined to keep my transgressions quiet. Or else he’d threaten to kill me until I’d disappear for days at a time, and he’d become distracted with something else. Matteo, however, has never pressured me like Romano did constantly. I know he’s always wanted me to get better, to be the fratello he could count on, but he never pushed. He’d reprimand me here and there, sure, but he never threatened to send me away or put me through the hell our dear old ‘Papa’ had so often. Matteo gave me options and never took his love from me when I didn’t measure up, and for that, I’d die for him.

  The Capo dei capi is one hundred percent the head of our blackened famiglia, and for the first time in my life, he flexed his power over me. Our youngest fratello, Cristiano, was determined we’d get a paternity test, even though we’d previously agreed we never would. I thought it was ridiculous as I’d had a vasectomy, yet Matteo insisted I take part. That test changed my life forever.

  I was in a drunken stupor, lying naked in the middle of my bed, when Matteo had furiously stormed into my room, men in tow. His men, who I’d grown up around since I was merely a boy, stuffed me into my robe and carried me out the back of the estate. I was loaded into one of the blacked-out SUVs, and the next time I’d woken, I was craving more of anything to dull my senses, I was in Upstate New York at a ritzy rehabilitation center. Severo, Matteo’s main guard, was left behind, along with a letter explaining what was happening.

  Turns out the paternity test results were in, and after checking them several times, my life would be forever changed. I have a daughter. Me, the fuck-up, is a father. I don’t know why the Heavenly Father bestowed the gift of life on me, but it’s obviously a wake-up call I was destined to get at some point in my life. I have someone counting on me, and this time around, it’s not an older brother with nuts of steel, but an innocent child with no mother. No matter how sober I become, my body painfully detoxing the variety of alcohol and narcotics, I still can’t recall sleeping with Sofia. Although, I suppose I didn’t care at the time, as I thought I was protected from hurting anyone but myself.

  I’ll tell you what the real zinger is as my mind begins to clear away the murky time lapses and bad decisions; it’s the never-ending fucking guilt. This is exactly why I don’t allow myself to remain sober for any amount of time that could make a difference. Remembering the beatings I’d received and those that my brothers took for me have my heart clenching. There’s the guilt of not carrying my part of the Empire with Matteo, of leaving it all up to him to deal with.

  I keep catching glimpses of stiffs and such, the number climbing as the drowning poison leaves my system. I’m assuming it’s the killing I’ve done. I’m not stupid enough to believe I’m innocent—murder is practically in my blood—but not being able to remember important details, like why I slaughtered the person in the first place, is fucking with me. And now, I have this little girl depending on me to pull my shit together so I can take care of her. I have an unwavering dark cloud encompassing my soul. How on earth can I take care of una bambina if I can’t care for myself?

  “You’re a jokester, aren’t you,” I sullenly mutter aloud, upset with God. I’m always frustrated with Him. Not that it’s His fault I’m a drunk, but I still tend to blame Him regardless. Severo casts me a puzzled glance, but I wave him off. “Just the ramblings of a crazy person.”

  According to Cris, I’m stuck in this place for the next six months. Apparently, Matteo is serious about me getting sober and remaining that way. My body trembles with the thought. The withdrawals never seem to go away completely. I’m in a permanent stage of freak the fuck out.

  This has to get easier at some point, yet they say the fight is forever. How can anyone endure feeling this way if it doesn’t get any better? It has to or I won’t survive. I’ll never see my daughter, and she’ll never have a name.

  If I can still breathe,

  I’m fine.

  - Anonymous

  Six months later…

  “She won’t stop crying. No matter what I do, she hates me.” My eyes plead with my sister-in-law, Violet. I’m too ashamed to go to Matteo, and admit I’m failing again. No matter what I do, sober or intoxicated, I can’t seem to get my life right.

  “She doesn’t hate you.” She argues and coos at the precious, now tranquil bambina in her arms. Of course my daughter stops fussing the moment Violet touches her.

  “You heard her screaming.” I’d run out into the hallway, frantic, looking for anyone to help. Luckily, it was Violet I’d found.

  “She’s a baby, and babies cry. It’s normal, I promise. Have you changed her?”

  “Yes, Margo has been helping with that.”

  “Good. Has she eaten recently?”

  My head bobs in confirmation. It was the first thing I’d tried to get her to calm down. My brothers used to scream, and if we shoved food at them, they’d usually quiet.

  “Have you checked her over to make sure she doesn’t have a rash or isn’t overheated? She’s dressed appropriately, so I know she’s not cold.”

  “Si. I put my hand on her forehead as you showed me. I checked her bottom for a rash and her tummy for any marks.”

  “And?” Violet probes, brow hiked. She bounces the bambina in her arms.

  “Nothing. There wasn’t the slightest mark, yet she wailed regardless.”

  She presses a kiss to my daughter’s forehead. “When she fuses like that, and you can’t find any reason, try walking around with her. Let her take in her surroundings. It may soothe her a bit.”

  “She’s not used to me. Maybe I should have Margo raise her.”

  Violet scoffs, sending me a glare usually reserved for when my brother is irritating her. “You promised Matteo you’d try, Sal. Being home with her for a week isn’t giving her a fair shot. Don’t you agree?”

  I grumble, upset that I’d been adamant on being a good father, and yet I’m already trying to get out of my responsibilities.

  “You need to talk to him. The only way he can help is if you communicate with him.” I understand why she says it. Matteo would do anything for her. Me, however, I’d look weak…like always. I’m not going to the Capo
to speak with him about my issues. That’s not how it works with men, but Violet doesn’t understand, it seems.

  “Matty’d be thrilled to hear I’m having anxiety attacks from being around a baby. No thanks. I’ll just deal with it.”

  Her hand falls to my forearm. She squeezes and says, “He’ll respect you if ask for help. He wants to do whatever he can to make this transition easier on you. Please, Sal, just talk to him. Give him the chance to help you. He’ll take it, I promise.”

  My throat feels tight, so I swallow, not sure what to say. How do I handle being around my famiglia when I’m stone-cold sober? I took counseling at the center, group and individual. I worked my steps and still continue to work them. They even provided classes on reintegrating into society. I thought I knew what I was doing, that this time around I had it in the bag. Then I came home and it was like I’d forgotten everything I’d just spent six months pounding into my brain. Addiction is relentless. It’s the hardest thing I’m having to work through in my life. At least, I thought so, until I met the little miss and she decided to scream my ears off every time someone else isn’t around the two of us.