Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance

by Natasha Knight

I glanced from her face to her nipples and back. “No, obviously not,” I said, returning my attention to the road.

  She covered herself with her arms. “You have no right, Salvatore.”

  “I have every right. You signed a contract.”

  “I was sixteen, and I had no choice!”

  “And what’s your choice now? Huh? Break it? Risk your family’s safety?”

  “You wouldn’t hurt them.”

  I glanced at her again, some part of me glad she knew that. But I wasn’t the only danger. “I may not, but others would.”

  “Are you going to threaten me with that for the rest of my life?”

  I just shook my head and concentrated on the road. I had more important things on my mind at the moment. Like figuring out what the hell had happened that afternoon.

  By the time we pulled inside the gates and up the drive, the silence between us hung like thick, impenetrable fog. Rain still poured down. Since the garage structure was separate from the main house, I parked as close to the front door as possible and climbed out. Lucia had already opened her door and sat measuring the distance between the car and the house.

  “Your feet are bare. I’ll carry you.” I leaned in to lift her, getting soaked for the third time that night.

  “I’m fine. Don’t touch me.”

  “Stop fighting me. The stones will cut your feet.” With one arm beneath her knees and the other at her back, I lifted her out.

  “I said don’t touch me!”

  Just as I leaned to close the car door, she hoisted herself out of my arms and fell to her hands and knees with a grunt.

  “Lucia!”

  “Stay away from me!” She scrambled to her feet and made for the front lawn.

  “Godamnit!” I chased her, although there wasn’t anywhere for her to go. If it wasn’t pouring down rain, I’d have left her to it. Although knowing her, she’d tear herself up, trying to climb over the gates.

  She ran fast, but the slippery ground beneath her bare feet hindered her progress. She fell twice more before I finally caught up to her. When I wrapped an arm around her waist to haul her up, she kicked out, knocking my legs out from under me so that I fell on top of her.

  “Leave me alone! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  She fought like a feral cat, scratching and kicking until I lay my full weight on her, caught both of her wrists, and trapped her beneath me.

  “Stop! Stop fighting me!”

  “I hate you. I hate you, and I will never stop.”

  I looked down at her, tears and rain soaking her face.

  “You will stop.”

  “Why did you come for me? What do you want from me?”

  “What do I want?” I looked at her face flushed with exertion, her mouth open to suck in gulps of air, her dark hair fanned out around her head, stuck to her face, soaked and dirty. “What do I want?” She jerked her body. I touched my forehead to hers, her eyes burning amber now. “This,” I said, and kissed her.

  She tried to say something, but whatever it was, I swallowed it up. Her soft wet lips yielded beneath mine. Even as she attempted to fight, her body gave itself over, her mouth surrendering. She made a small sound as I deepened the kiss, tasting her, pressing her harder into the earth, my cock like steel against her soft belly.

  “I want this,” I said, claiming her mouth again while I reached with one hand to take my cock out of my pants. Her nightie had already ridden up to midbelly. “This.” I kissed her again, this time softer, on her lips, then her chin, her cheek. I wanted to see her face, her eyes. Slipping my fingers beneath her panties, I drew them aside. She bit her lips, watching me. “I want you.” I thrust into her, and she arched her back, closing her eyes momentarily. “You.” I drove in again, her tight pussy wet like a glove around my cock. “I want you, Lucia,” I said finally, taking her wrists in my hands and pinning them out to her sides, watching her face as I fucked her, just a few more short, hard thrusts before she clenched around me, coming, making that sound she made, crushing my cock until I stilled, squeezing her wrists harder, coming, heart racing, not breathing until I’d emptied.

  The rain slowed, finally, as if it matched our moods. I kissed her and slowly slid out, kneeling to zip my jeans before lifting her up. She let me this time. Let me carry her into the house and up to the second floor and through my bedroom to the master bath, where I ran the shower and placed her inside. I followed, still fully clothed, stripping first her and then myself beneath the warm flow of water.

  “I want you, Lucia,” I said yet again, pressing her back against the wall, kissing her. “As wrong as it is, I want you.”

  Lucia lay in my bed, the cuts on her knees and palms bandaged, warm beneath the covers. Safe in my arms.

  “Natalie is my sister-in-law. Sergio’s wife.” She had her back to me, so I couldn’t see her face. “She has a son who was at daycare while she worked her usual hours. When she got there to pick him up, he was gone. The daycare provider had fucked up, releasing Jacob to someone who claimed to be his uncle.”

  She turned her head to look at me, then shifted to lie on her back. I kept my arm over her belly, my hand closed possessively around her hip.

  “She was frantic, as you can imagine.”

  “Did they find him?”

  I nodded. “It was Dominic, I’m certain. He’d dropped him off at her parent’s house but only after a couple of hours.”

  “Is Jacob okay?”

  “He’s fine now. He’s only a year and a half, so he couldn’t tell us much. Dropped off with an armful of toys and an ice-cream cone that had melted all over him. He apparently ran into his grandmother’s arms and sobbed, calling for his mom.”

  “Why would Dominic do that?”

  “To show he could.” That’s what pissed me off the most. This was the one thing that could terrorize Natalie.

  “I can’t imagine what Natalie must have felt.”

  I nodded. I’d never seen her like I did today, not even when she’d learned Sergio had been killed.

  “I’m the only person she trusts, Lucia. I couldn’t abandon her or my nephew.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I know.”

  “I assumed… I thought she was your... That you were having an affair.” She lowered her lashes, her face growing pink with embarrassment.

  “I told you I wouldn’t do that. The contract—”

  “It doesn’t say anything about that.”

  “I’m not interested in anyone or anything else at the moment, Lucia.” The words at the moment made me pause. I wondered if she noticed them. “Don’t worry. I will still release you from the contract when the time comes.”

  She grew quieter. “I’m tired.”

  I pulled her tight against my chest and rested my chin on top of her head. “Go to sleep.”

  Lucia still slept deeply when I woke early the next morning. Kissing her softly on her forehead, I climbed out of bed and tucked her back in, then left a note, and drove to Dominic’s house. He lived about forty-five minutes away. When I got there, I saw my father’s sedan in the circular driveway. I wondered what he was doing here. If he was meeting with Dominic about the Luke DeMarco situation.

  Stop being so fucking paranoid.

  If it wasn’t for Lucia, would I give a fuck if Dominic became the next boss? Would I care? Or would I take the opportunity and walk away? Although walking away wasn’t really an option. Nothing in this life came that easy.

  I shook it off. I needed to focus. Parking my car behind my father’s, I walked to the front door, my anger from yesterday coming back white-hot as I approached. Lucia had tempered it. She’d cooled the anger, turned it into something else. She’d awakened a different side of me, one I’d tried to keep buried for a very long time. I’d always thought that part of me weak, but it was actually the opposite.

  I rang the doorbell. A woman I’d only seen here twice before answered. As soon as she recognized me, I saw the momentary note of pa
nic on her face.

  “Mr. Benedetti, was Dominic expecting you?”

  “No, it’s a surprise visit.” She seemed nervous and stood blocking the doorway.

  “He’s in a meeting, sir, and he said no interruptions.”

  “Did he?” I glanced behind her. A woman vacuumed the living room, but apart from that, the house stood still. “Well, I need to see him, so please step aside.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Patricia, sir.”

  “Patricia, I need to see my brother. I need you to step aside.”

  “Sir,” she glanced behind her, clearly uncertain what to do. “I’m not supposed to…”

  I smiled as wide as I could, feeling the gesture crinkle the corners of my eyes. “I’ll take full responsibility, Patricia. Don’t worry.”

  She hesitated, and I took advantage, nudging her out of my way as I entered the house. I went straight for Dominic’s study located around back. A man stood at the door, but my presence clearly surprised him. I just grinned and walked right past him. I’d put my hand on the doorknob before I felt his hand fall on my shoulder.

  I gave it a sideways glance, eyebrows raised, before meeting his gaze.

  His eyes went wide, and the weight of his hand lessened.

  He knew who I was. Good.

  “Sir—” he started.

  “Step back.”

  It took him a moment, and I didn’t wait for him to decide. Instead, I turned the handle and pushed the door open to find Dominic, Roman, and my father sitting around the circular table inside.

  They all turned at the interruption, my father and Roman surprised, Dominic furious.

  “Isn’t this cozy,” I said, narrowing my eyes on Roman, the man I trusted most out of the three.

  “I told you nobody!” Dominic roared to the man who’d stood guard and rose to his feet.

  “Sir—”

  The guard mumbled something, but I didn’t care about that. Instead, when Dominic rounded the table, I pounced on him, grabbing his collar and dragging him backward until I had him pinned against the wall.

  “What the—” my dad’s voice came.

  “Salvatore!”

  Roman’s shout registered, but all I could see were Dominic’s eyes, the look in them both evil and proud, like the cocky prick he was.

  He knew exactly why I was here.

  “What did you want, taking Jacob?”

  His grin widened. “Get your fucking hands off me.”

  “You scared the shit out of Natalie!”

  “What’s going on?” my father asked behind me.

  “Nothing—” Dominic started.

  “It’s called fucking kidnapping, asshole!” I said before slamming him hard against the wall.

  “Salvatore, get off him,” Roman said, his voice the calmest of all. “Let him go.”

  “Yeah, Salvatore, get off me,” Dominic mimicked Roman.

  His face, his tone, they infuriated me. He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone. Not Jacob. Not Natalie, not anyone. “You fucking prick.” I released him, and Dominic straightened, attempting to fix his collar, but as he did, I drew my fist back and struck his jaw so hard, his head slammed back into the wall, and he stumbled. “You don’t even give a shit, do you?” I straightened him, and this time, drove my fist into his gut. “You don’t give a shit about scaring that little boy. About scaring the crap out of your brother’s wife.”

  It took three men and Roman to drag me off him, but before they did, I’d landed one more punch on Dominic’s jaw. He struggled to stand, his grin angry as he wiped blood from his lip.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Salvatore?” my father demanded.

  I noticed then how he stood back, watching, a weariness in his eyes.

  “Why don’t you tell him?” I said, fighting against the men who held me, watching Dominic, his expression pissed, bruises already coloring his face. “Tell him what you did.”

  “He’s my nephew too.”

  “Fuck you, you’ve never cared about that.”

  “Enough!” My father’s voice bellowed through the room. “Sit him down.”

  The men holding me shoved me into a seat and held me there. I watched my father stalk toward Dominic. I’d never seen him do that with him before.

  “Did you hurt Jacob?” he asked, his tone low, threatening.

  “I didn’t hurt him. I took him toy shopping and bought him a fucking ice-cream cone!”

  “You scared him. He’s just a child. Your brother’s son!” I said.

  “Dominic?” my father asked, some of the color drained from his face.

  I freed myself of the men who held me and stood. “I have just one message for you.” My voice came low and deep. “Stay away from Natalie and Jacob, or God help me—”

  “Dominic!” my father snapped.

  I walked out, shaking out of the hold of one of Dominic’s men. “I’m leaving. Keep your hands off me.”

  “Did you lay a finger on Sergio’s boy?” I heard my father ask.

  I didn’t look back. I walked out the door and back to my car, satisfied with having beaten Dominic, but not quite trusting that my threat would keep Jacob and Natalie safe.

  As I started the engine and turned the wheel, movement at the front door caught my attention. It was Patricia. She glanced behind her several times as she made her way toward me. I rolled down my window.

  “Mr. Benedetti.” She was out of breath.

  “Yes?”

  “Your uncle asked me to give this to you.” She slipped a note to me and quickly backed away from the car.

  “Thank you, Patricia,” I said absently as I unfolded it and read the brief, hurriedly written note: Dominic visited Isabella DeMarco late last night, just before your arrival there.

  Dominic was there? I’d gone inside—well, I’d gotten as far as the foyer. Did Lucia know Dominic was there and keep it from me? And did this confirm my growing suspicion?

  16

  Lucia

  I woke suddenly, sucking in a breath, my throat incredibly dry.

  Looking around, I remembered where I was, remembered the night before. I lay in Salvatore’s bed, his scent still on his pillow, the indentation where his head had been now containing a small piece of paper.

  Unfolding it, I read:

  I need to take care of some business. I will be back this afternoon. I have Marco’s phone, and I’ve programmed the number into yours in case you need anything.

  Salvatore

  I set it down and closed my eyes, feeling sheepish at what I’d done, dropping his phone into the toilet.

  But now, I had to face the thing that had woken me, as unbelievable as it was. I wished I’d kept my father’s note rather than throwing it away. At the time, I’d been so upset.

  My father had committed suicide because he couldn’t live with the decisions he’d made. Because he hadn’t been able to come to terms with the fact that when I turned twenty-one, Salvatore would claim me as his. Did he have any idea how that letter would make me feel? Did he know he laid more guilt on my shoulders with that letter than he had in signing the contract that bound me to the Benedetti family?

  But there was something else. He’d said something I’d just remembered moments before waking. He’d blamed the Benedettis for destroying both his daughters.

  I’d thought—when I’d heard the man’s voice last night, I’d thought I’d recognized it, but it wasn’t a familiar voice. I’d thought it was Dominic Benedetti. But what would he be doing at my sister’s house? Isabella hated them more than I did.

  But what my father had said…

  “No.”

  I sat up and pushed the blankets off. I was naked and saw that Salvatore had carefully bandaged my knees and the heels of my palms from where I’d torn myself up, running from him last night. When he’d caught up with me, he’d been fierce but also tender. Caring.

  I shook my hea
d and got out of bed. Back in my own bedroom, I dressed in running clothes. Running always helped clear my head, and I needed my head cleared really bad right now. Once dressed, I headed out. I heard Rainey in the kitchen and someone vacuuming in another part of the house.

  I started at a slow jog, trying to choose some music, but then I stopped, wrapped the earbuds around the phone, and tucked it into my pocket. I didn’t want music today. I’d listen to the sounds of the forest.

  Last night, when I’d asked him what he wanted, Salvatore had said he wanted me.

  “At this moment.”

  The swell inside my chest deflated instantly at the memory. He had to have me. It’s not like I was his choice.

  I shook that thought aside. I needed to figure out what was going on. I needed to talk to Izzy, but how? How could I tell her I’d heard a man’s voice without giving myself away? How offended would she be if I asked if Dominic Benedetti were at her house?

  But what if it was him? What if she’d known him for far longer than I realized?

  And what if she knew about what he’d done to that little boy, kidnapping Natalie’s son like that?

  “I took care of what you wanted done.”

  No. No way. Izzy would never have arranged for something as terrible as the kidnapping of a child. And I should be ashamed of myself for thinking it.

  I pushed myself to run faster, even though I hadn’t properly warmed up yet, and broke a sweat within a few minutes. I ran harder than I usually ran, but I needed more, needed to burn and exhaust my muscles, purge myself.

  When did things get so complicated? Isabella and I were DeMarcos. We hated the Benedetti family. That was simple. It was black-and-white. But this? This attraction, this pull toward Salvatore? My yielding to him? It didn’t make sense. And my questions about Izzy. About what my father potentially referred to in his letter. About having heard Dominic’s voice in her house late at night.

  I was running too fast on unfamiliar terrain and not paying attention, so when I tripped over the exposed root of a large tree and went flying, I shouldn’t have been surprised. But when I tried to stand, I had to haul myself up with my arms. My left ankle was already starting to swell and hum with pain.