Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance

by Natasha Knight

  “Shit.”

  I looked back toward the house, but I’d run too deep into the woods to see any more than the decorative chimney tops. I forced myself to stand, leaning all my weight on my right leg. Holding on to nearby trees, I hobbled toward the house. It wasn’t more than five minutes, though, before I realized I’d never get back there on my own, not with my ankle quickly doubling in size.

  Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I unwrapped the earbuds and stuck one in my ear. I then scrolled down to where Salvatore had entered Marco’s number and dialed.

  He answered quickly, sounding like my call surprised him. “Lucia?”

  “You know how you said to try and not get lost when I’m running?

  He chuckled, audibly relaxing. “Are you lost?”

  “No, that’s not it. I’m not lost, and I didn’t even have any music blaring, but—”

  “What?” he cut me off, his tone anxious. “What is it?”

  “I caught my foot on a tree root and fell. I’m trying to get back to the house on my own, but my ankle’s swelling and hurts pretty badly.”

  “Get your weight off it, and elevate it if you can. I’m coming. Just pulling into the gates now. Do you know which trail you took?”

  “I headed east, same as the morning you ran into me, but I’ve already passed the spot where we stopped last time.”

  “Okay, I’m on my way. Just keep talking to me, so I can hear you.”

  I heard the sound of stones beneath the car’s tires. He really had just gotten back.

  “Where did you go?” I asked, since he said to keep talking.

  “To see my brother.”

  Could I tell him my suspicions? But he continued talking as he walked—the front door opening, him saying something to Marco, sliding the glass doors open before the sounds of his footsteps crunching on the forest floor reached my ears as he hurried to me.

  “My father, Roman, and he were in a meeting. Some days, I question my trust in Roman.”

  “You do? Trust him, I mean?”

  “Out of the three, yes. Sergio did too. But I know if push came to shove, he’d take care of himself first.”

  “Was it Dominic who took Jacob? Did he admit it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can hear you! I mean, not just on the phone.”

  “Hot-pink running shorts?” he asked.

  I glanced down and smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing.”

  “It’d be hard to miss you in those,” he said, hanging up as he came into view. He wore his usual uniform: dark T-shirt and jeans. And he made my mouth water.

  Salvatore scanned me from head to toe and knelt down by my hurt foot, making me flinch as he lightly touched my swollen ankle.

  “Ouch. Hey, your hands!” His knuckles were raw and bruised.

  He looked at them as if seeing them for the first time and smiled proudly. “You should see Dominic’s face.”

  “You beat him up?”

  He nodded, his attention back on my ankle. “I’m going to lift you up and carry you back. Just let me make a call.”

  He dialed, and I realized he’d called Rainey as soon as he said her name.

  “Can you get Dr. Mooney out here for me? Lucia’s hurt her ankle. I don’t think it’s broken, but I’d like him to have a look anyway.”

  “I don’t need a doctor, I just need some ice,” I said, but he pretty much ignored me.

  “Thanks, Rainey.” He hung up and turned to me. “Let’s not take any chances.”

  He lifted me up in his arms, and I blinked back tears with the movement.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “This is getting to be a habit.”

  “You carrying me into the house?”

  He nodded, navigating his way carefully through the forest so as not to hit branches with my hurt ankle.

  “Can I ask you a question, Lucia?”

  “Sure.”

  “How did I not see Dominic when I came to get you last night?”

  How did he know?

  “It was dark, but I’m pretty sure I would have seen him,” he continued.

  “I wasn’t sure it was him. I overheard them from upstairs, but I never saw who it was.”

  “So I’m right, he was there.”

  “You mean you didn’t know?” I looked at him, confused.

  “Not one hundred percent.”

  “Why did you ask it that way, then?” He’d tricked me.

  “Wouldn’t you have tried to protect your sister rather than tell me the truth?”

  We neared the house, and I saw Rainey waiting by the doors, a large bag of ice in hand.

  “Answer my question, Lucia.”

  I looked into his deep-blue eyes, seeing not darkness, not rage or hate. I saw instead goodness, as much as one could be good in our world. “Probably,” I answered honestly.

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Doctor will be here in twenty minutes. He said to keep it iced and elevated,” Rainey said as we entered the house.

  Salvatore laid me on the couch and rested my hurt ankle in his lap as he sat beside me.

  Rainey smiled and handed me a cup of her homemade lemonade and two Advil.

  “Thought you might need these.”

  I returned her smile as I popped the pills in my mouth. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” Rainey went to wait for the doctor, and I took a sip of the lemonade, yelping when Salvatore tugged my shoe off. “That hurt.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He gently peeled my sock off, inspected the swelling limb, then placed the ice bag on my ankle.

  “How did you know about Dominic?”

  “I’ve had men watching the house since the day I saw Luke there. Luke’s involved in some dangerous things. I truly hope, for her sake, that Isabella isn’t a part of those things, Lucia.”

  I didn’t miss the warning, but Salvatore wouldn’t hurt her. He’d promised.

  Salvatore continued. “I guess I was surprised to hear it was Dominic who made a visit in the middle of the night rather than Luke. Is she sleeping with both of them?”

  “Salvatore! You don’t know that! I don’t know that! She’s not some kind of—” I couldn’t say the word.

  “I don’t care if she sleeps with a hundred men in one night, Lucia. But I do care if she’s fucking my brother.”

  “She wouldn’t! She hates him. She hates all of you!” I tried to take my ankle off his lap, but he placed the palm of his hand firmly on my thigh.

  “Who is Effie’s father, Lucia?”

  I looked at him, my breath coming in loud and heavy, my eyes watering with the accusation. It was like he was picking information from my brain. Things I hadn’t yet come to understand, things I couldn’t have be true.

  “Why do you do this? Every time I feel like we’re finally getting somewhere, feel like I maybe understand you, why do you have to fuck it all up?”

  Two sets of footsteps came from the foyer. “This way, Doctor,” Rainey said, ushering him in.

  Salvatore and I had devolved into some kind of staring contest. I finally had to forfeit when a tear rolled down my cheek. I turned away.

  “Dr. Mooney,” Salvatore said. “You’ll excuse me for not standing, but I think I’d only cause her pain to move her leg.”

  He did. He only caused me pain. Every. Single. Time.

  17

  Salvatore

  I stepped out of the room when I saw Roman’s call come in and left Dr. Mooney to wrap Lucia’s leg. I was right; just a sprain, but painful nonetheless.

  “Roman,” I said as I entered my study and shut the door.

  “Well, you know how to make an entrance.”

  “He kidnapped Jacob from the daycare. This is after he’d gone to Natalie’s house a few days ago, and she’d refused to let him in. He was sending a message, Roman. I wanted to be sure he received mine loud and clear.”

  “Well, your father was pissed. You were gone for most of that, t
hough.”

  “Really? Franco Benedetti pissed at the son that’s not me for a change?”

  “Franco can be pigheaded sometimes, Salvatore. We both know that. He’s tougher on you because he knows you’ll be the one replacing him, but he can’t ignore Dominic. Franco is more aware than you think of the potential threat Dominic presents, and this stunt with Jacob banished any doubts he may have still clung to.”

  “Finally,” I said sarcastically.

  “Either way, unless Dominic is stupid, he won’t go near Natalie or Jacob again. Franco’s gone out there himself to make sure she knows she and his grandson will have his protection.”

  “Neither Dominic nor I hold a candle to Sergio, even in death.” I hated that I felt this pang of jealousy toward Sergio, as tiny as it was. I’d known this all my life, but it had never come between us. And I wouldn’t let it now. “Never have and never will.”

  “The fact that Sergio is gone still hurts your father. He doesn’t love you any less. He’s just missing one child. He is human, after all.”

  I didn’t comment.

  “I want to talk to you about the DNA test, Salvatore.”

  “Go on.” I hadn’t yet had a chance to read through the rest of the report to get a clearer understanding of the results.

  “When the results came back, disqualifying Luke as the father, I used a sample from myself. Family shares DNA, in some cases more than in others, but there is always something.”

  Roman had studied genealogy for a while and was in the process of compiling his family tree.

  “What made you do that?” Was I ready to hear what he would tell me?

  “A hunch. Effie DeMarco shares at least some of our DNA, Salvatore.”

  I sat down. Hearing it was different than thinking it.

  “I’m obviously not the little girl’s father, but I’m running more tests today. I took a sample from Dominic’s home.”

  “What, did you swab him?” I chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor behind it.

  “Took the hair off his brush.”

  “When will you know for sure?”

  “I’m hoping within twenty-four hours.”

  “Does my father know anything about this?”

  “No. Nothing. He won’t find out unless I’m one hundred percent certain.”

  I leaned back, exhaling. “So Dominic’s been having an affair with Isabella DeMarco for five years?”

  “That I don’t know.”

  “Where do his loyalties lie, I wonder? And how does Luke DeMarco play into this? This just got a hell of a lot more complicated.”

  “Talk to Lucia. See if you can glean any information at all. She may not be aware herself, Salvatore.”

  “I think she’s innocent.” No, I knew it. And this knowledge would only hurt her.

  “I’ll get back to you as soon as I know more.”

  “Thank you, Roman.”

  I made one more call to check on Natalie, who had called in sick to work and was spending the day with Jacob at home. She knew my father was on his way, and although not pleased about it, she seemed reasonably calm and promised to call me once he’d left.

  When I returned to the living room, Dr. Mooney was just packing up his things.

  “Just keep it iced and wrapped. You’ll be fine in no time. I’ve already ordered crutches. They’ll be here hopefully within the next hour or two.”

  “How long will I need those?” Lucia asked.

  “Only as long as you feel pain when putting any weight on your leg. I don’t think long, a week or two.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Mooney.” I extended my hand and shook his.

  “You’re welcome, Salvatore.” He turned back to Lucia and shook her hand as well. “It was nice to meet you, my dear. Call if you need anything at all.”

  “I will. Thanks again.”

  Rainey walked Dr. Mooney out, and I took a seat beside Lucia.

  “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you with my question, Lucia.”

  “But you did, Salvatore. That’s the point. Ever hear the saying ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions?’”

  “Let’s go sit by the pool before it gets too hot.”

  “I said I don’t—”

  Ignoring her, I lifted her into my arms and carried her out. Lucia simply sighed.

  “Can you bring my lemonade at least?”

  “Sure. Would you like something to eat?”

  She gave me a cautious look. “I think I smelled cake.”

  I had too. Rainey had been baking. “I’ll be right back.”

  In the kitchen, I sliced two chunks of the still-warm cinnamon cake I found cooling on the counter and set them on a tray along with two fresh glasses of lemonade. Back outside, I handed one of the plates to Lucia and placed her lemonade on the table beside her lounge chair before taking the seat by hers.

  “This is Rainey’s signature cake.” Not bothering with the fork, I picked up the fat chunk I’d sliced for myself and bit into it. “God, it’s delicious.”

  “I’m going to get fat,” Lucia said through her mouthful.

  “I’ll make sure you get enough exercise.”

  She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, then returned her attention to the cake on her plate in her lap.

  “We need to talk about last night.”

  “I thought we had.”

  “About what you overheard.”

  Her wary gaze met mine. “She’s my sister, Salvatore.”

  “Jacob was very afraid, Lucia. If Isabella had anything to do with that, I think it’s important I know.”

  She rubbed her face with both hands then pushed her fingers into her hair and pulled at the roots. “I don’t know, Salvatore. What happened to that little boy, what Dominic did, was cruel. I hope to God my sister wasn’t involved in anything like that. The Izzy I knew wouldn’t be. She’d never hurt a child. And I know he wasn’t physically hurt, but taking him without his mom knowing? Freaking her out like that, and scaring the little boy? I just—”

  She looked away and shook her head. When she turned back to me, her eyes glistened with tears.

  “Thing is, I don’t know her anymore. I’ve shut everyone out for so long that I don’t even know who I am anymore. I thought this was black-and-white. I hated the Benedetti family. Period. But my sister involved in or even possibly orchestrating something like the kidnapping of a child?”

  She shook her head again, her face lined with worry.

  “She’s a mother herself. How…what’s happened to us?”

  “Too much hate. Too much power,” I said. “Too much of a lust for blood and vengeance. War never makes friends out of enemies. The opposite. It solidifies that hate. The war between Benedetti and DeMarco may have been fought in our fathers’ time, but we inherit the hate, the bad blood. It doesn’t just go away. It carries down generation to generation.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “You have every right to.”

  “I don’t. You’re not like them, Salvatore.”

  But I was. I had killed. I had taken. I had lived off blood money. I’d shed that very blood with my own two hands. Standing up to my father after whipping Lucia, though, and then today—walking away, not giving a shit about what he thought—was I changing? Was I finally growing out of my father’s shadow and casting my own?

  And would mine be as dark as his?

  “I asked Roman to run a paternity test on Effie, Lucia.”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  She started to stand but then realized she couldn’t without my help. Which was precisely why I’d laid her on one of the lounge chairs rather than sitting her on a chair.

  I touched her arm. “You have to know.”

  She closed her eyes and reopened them after a minute but remained silent, waiting.

  “Luke isn’t her father.”

  From the look on her face, I had the feeling she knew that.

&n
bsp; “She carries DNA from my family.” Christ, was I saying this out loud?

  A tear rolled down each of Lucia’s cheeks, and I knew she knew.

  “They’re testing Dominic’s DNA now. We’ll know for sure soon whether Dominic Benedetti fathered Effie DeMarco.”

  It was a long moment before she spoke. I didn’t know how Lucia would take what I told her. On the one hand, she’d seen enough evidence to suspect the truth. She’d seen it herself before I told it. On the other hand, Isabella was still her sister, and I was still the enemy’s son. I was her keeper. The man who’d signed a contract, claiming ownership of her.

  “What do you want out of this, Salvatore? When all is said and done, what do you want?”

  I’d been straddling the seat and now… I lay back and looked out across the pool toward the forest. It was so quiet here. So still. So peaceful.

  I turned back to her. “I want to live a quiet life. I don’t want to look over my shoulder at every turn. I don’t want to see an enemy in every set of eyes I meet, every hand I shake. I want the people I love to be safe. I want them be happy.” Strange. Six months ago, I would have added ‘I want my brother to be alive’ into that list, but something had shifted. Somehow, I’d come to accept that he was gone. Not the cruelty or the unfairness of the act, but the knowledge that he was gone. And that my life lay here.

  She cleared her throat and blinked her pretty, innocent eyes, casting them somewhere in the space between us. I didn’t take my eyes off her.

  Lucia was all the innocence in my life.

  She was my redemption.

  And I wanted her. Her presence here, us together, as tumultuous as it was, as wrong as I was for keeping her, it saved me. She saved me.

  And that was why I would keep my promise and release her once I could. Once I knew she would be safe and out of harm’s way.

  “What do you want, Lucia?”

  She met my gaze, shrugged her shoulders, and gave me a tiny but sad smile. “Same things, I guess.”

  “You’ll have them. I promise.”

  Another promise to her. Another one I didn’t know I could keep. But I would try. I would try every day up until my last breath to give her what she wanted. A life. Simple, peaceful, beautiful.