Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance

by Natasha Knight

  20

  Lucia

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, standing and leaning my weight on my crutches. I didn’t feel half as confident as I somehow managed to sound. “How did you get in?”

  He stood in the light just on the other side of the coffee table looking disheveled, his shirt untucked, his hair messy, his face bruised. He gave me a lopsided grin, and I really looked at him for the first time, the dimple on his right cheek disarming me momentarily. His eyes were a light blue-gray, the lashes thick and darker than his blond hair. He was tall, well over six feet, but he had a leaner build than Salvatore, although still muscular. Powerful.

  I returned my gaze to his face, saw his grin widen. The darkness in his eyes reminded me who he was.

  He tucked the gun into the back of his jeans before reaching into his pocket and taking something out.

  I cocked my head to the side when he held it out to show me, not understanding right away.

  “I have a key.”

  It dawned on me that he held a key to my old house. To the house where my sister and niece lived.

  “Isabella gave it to me.”

  “I don’t understand.” But I did. I just hadn’t come to terms with it yet. I studied him, taking in his features, comparing them to Effie’s. Although she hadn’t inherited his blond hair, she had similar eyes, although hers were warm, innocent. The rest was Isabella, but there was one thing she shared with Dominic: that dimple in her right cheek. That was from her father.

  No.

  I had to stop this. What was I thinking? I was talking about my sister here. And Effie’s father could be anyone. It wouldn’t be him.

  What about the tests?

  Nothing was definitive, not yet.

  And the key. Why did Isabella give him a key?

  “You’re lying. My sister wouldn’t have given you a key.”

  “Why not?”

  “She hates you.”

  He snorted then went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. “Want one?”

  “No.”

  He leaned against the cabinet and watched me as he brought the tumbler to his lips and swallowed the deep amber liquid. I hoped it burned on the way down.

  “What do you see in my brother?” he asked.

  “What do you want, Dominic? What are you doing here?”

  “He’s a puppet to our father. A weak little windup toy who does as he’s told. Who humiliated you. What in hell do you see in him?”

  “I see his heart. I see what’s real behind the mask he puts on for you, for your father.”

  At that he chuckled and poured himself another drink. “That’s fresh. Now Sergio,” he began, drinking deeply. “He was a man’s man. A man to be respected, like me. Even Franco Benedetti respected him.”

  “And you think kidnapping his son makes you respectable? It makes you a monster. A weak, hateful monster.”

  He laughed and stalked toward me. I forced myself to stand my ground, even when he stood only inches away, breathing whiskey on my face as his gaze roamed over my body. He looked me in the eye.

  “Well then, you may need to actually open your eyes and see the other monsters much closer to home.”

  A car pulled up outside, and I exhaled in relief. He stepped away just as a key turned in the lock, and Isabella walked into the house. She stopped in the doorway as soon as she saw him. They exchanged a look before she turned her gaze on me.

  I watched her, then him, then her again.

  And I was certain.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked Dominic, her tone much too casual as she closed the door behind her.

  “What, do you two compare notes or something?” he asked, finishing his drink and setting his glass down. “I’m hungry.” He went into the kitchen, leaving us alone.

  “Izzy? What the hell is going on?”

  She plopped her bag down on the coffee table and rubbed her eyes with her hands. She looked defeated in that moment, and I saw through the tough facade she put on more and more.

  “Luke’s out of surgery,” she said, heading to where Dominic had left his glass, filling it with the same whiskey and drinking it down. “He’s going to make it.”

  She stood quietly a moment before her body slumped, and she broke into sobs. I went to her and embraced her, the crutches tucked awkwardly under my arms. I held her so tight that she finally surrendered herself, letting herself go, weeping, hugging me back.

  “I thought…I thought…God, if he died?” She sucked in a loud breath and wiped her eyes, leaning back. “I prayed, Lucia. I haven’t prayed in five years.” She shook her head. “I love him. I love him, and all I’ve done is hurt him.”

  “Luke?” I was so confused.

  She nodded, and we walked over to the sofa and sat down.

  “He was adopted,” she started, as if that was what I was concerned about. “We’re not blood relatives.”

  “I know, Izzy. God, I know. It’s okay. I don’t care. It’s fine.”

  “I owe you an explanation. Multiple, probably.”

  I nodded.

  “Five years ago, more than that, actually, I met Dominic. It was accidental, nothing planned. I was seventeen. It was a party in the woods, and I didn’t know who he was. Same for him. He didn’t know me, and we didn’t exchange last names. It was just Dominic and Isabella. That’s all. We hit it off, and things got heated over the next few weeks. Months.”

  “You still didn’t know who he was?” I didn’t believe that.

  “By then we knew. Hell, by our third date, we knew. But there was something there. I don’t know what it was, maybe even the whole Romeo and Juliette with warring families and the romance of it all, the sneaking around, meeting in the woods, sitting under the stars. Just us. Together.”

  “You fell in love with Dominic Benedetti?”

  She nodded her head. “He wasn’t like this, not then. We were each other’s firsts. First love, first…”

  “Then you got pregnant.”

  “Yes. It was right around when things were coming to a head between the families. Dominic was going to tell his father. I told Papa.”

  “That’s why he was so mad.”

  She nodded sadly. “I was pregnant with the enemy’s child. Never mind that I was barely an adult and unmarried.”

  “He disowned you because it was Dominic’s?”

  “Yes. He couldn’t accept it. It shamed him. Infuriated him. Looking at me pissed him off. I think I was the ultimate reminder of his disgrace.”

  “How long did he know before you left?”

  “A month. He gave me an ultimatum. Abort the baby or lose everything.”

  “Abortion? Papa?” He was a devout Catholic. As old school as they came.

  She nodded, her eyes glistening again. “I couldn’t do that.” She glanced up the stairs. “I’m so glad I didn’t.”

  “Does Franco Benedetti know?”

  “No. Dominic never told him. In fact, we stopped seeing each other as soon as I found out I was pregnant. Well, it trickled to a stop. But things were different then. He sent money, though, after I left.”

  “Well, isn’t he a prince?”

  “We were both kids, Lucia, and I’ve forgiven him. You don’t have to, but this is between him and me.”

  “Does Effie know?”

  She shook her head. “No one does.”

  “Well, I think Salvatore may.” She opened her mouth, but I continued. “He and Roman suspected it was Luke, and Roman had DNA tests done.”

  “Fuck.”

  “When it came back that Luke couldn’t be the father, Roman, who apparently had his suspicions, used his own DNA to test against it. Traces matched, and he’s running Dominic’s now.”

  “My fucking uncle is always sticking his big fucking nose where it doesn’t belong.” Dominic leaned against the entrance to the kitchen eating a sandwich, not bothering to hide the fact he was eavesdropping. “Not that it fucking matters. Not anymore.”
>
  Isabella stood, suddenly fuming, and went to him. “Was it you? Did you order the hit on Luke?”

  He walked around her, biting off another piece, chewing like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I didn’t realize you loved him,” he sneered.

  She grabbed his arm, making him turn to face her. “We had an agreement! Goddamn you, we had a fucking agreement!”

  “You’re the one who wanted him involved.”

  “I couldn’t meet with them, you know that!”

  “Meet with who?” I asked.

  They both looked at me as if they were surprised I still stood there.

  “The Pagani family. Paul Jr., the old man’s son and wannabe successor,” Dominic filled in, stuffing the last of his sandwich into his mouth. “Fucking asshole.”

  “Old school. They won’t deal with a woman,” Isabella said.

  “Deal with a woman over what?”

  “What I told you when I first came to Salvatore’s house.”

  “What, starting another war? Reclaiming our place as what, the biggest and baddest? The family who sheds the most blood? Izzy, what are you doing? I don’t want this. You can’t want it.”

  “I did, at first.” She dropped into a chair. “But now, after what happened? After I saw him like that, Luke hooked up to too many machines to count, barely alive? Jesus, how could we…”

  She stopped and turned toward Dominic, then stood and went to him. She poked a finger into his chest.

  “Did you order the fucking shooting? Did you order them to kill Luke?”

  “You’re starting to bore me. What happened to my vengeful little bitch?”

  “Fuck you, Dominic.”

  “Fuck you, Isabella.” He took her glass and finished it before slamming it down on the coffee table. “You may be over it, but I’m not. No way I’m standing by and letting my father hand everything over to my half-wit brother. No. Fucking. Way.”

  The door flew open right then, and Salvatore burst in, his face a mask of fury as he slammed Dominic against the closest wall, his forearm crushing his neck. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

  Dominic shoved him back and chuckled. “Check inside the house before you plant guards outside it, dumbass.”

  “Mommy?”

  Effie’s voice had all of us turning toward the stairs. The fighting had woken her up. She stood there, clutching her teddy bear and watching us.

  “Honey!” Isabella ran up to her and took her in her arms. “Uncle Luke is going to be okay, baby!”

  “He is?”

  “He is.”

  “I’m so glad. Can we go see him?”

  “He’s still sleeping, but soon. I’ll take you to him, and you can give him all those cookies you made.”

  “They’re delicious, Effie,” Dominic yelled up.

  Salvatore’s stood there, hands fisted, at Dominic’s side.

  “Thanks, Dominic.”

  Effie’s relaxed familiarity with Dominic surprised me and, when I glanced at Salvatore, I saw that it surprised him as well.

  “It’s late,” Isabella said over her shoulder. “Go home.” She turned and walked up the stairs with Effie.

  “Why was everyone yelling?” I heard Effie asking her mom as their voices disappeared down the hall. I didn’t hear my sister’s answer.

  “Well, she always was good at dismissing anyone she had no use for,” Dominic bit out.

  “Fuck you. Dad’s looking for you. Go home.”

  “You go home. And take your pretty little plaything with you before I decide to have a taste myself. Her sister was pretty good.”

  Salvatore reared up to punch him, but I grabbed his arm. “He’s not worth it, Salvatore.”

  “Get out.” Salvatore didn’t look at me, but stood nose to nose with his brother.

  “I wasn’t planning on staying.”

  It was a moment before he walked out the front door.

  Salvatore turned to me and took me into his arms.

  “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything to me.”

  “He was right. I should have checked the house.”

  Salvatore stepped back and looked me over as if he wanted to see with his own eyes that Dominic hadn’t hurt me.

  “Stop. Nothing happened. And everything is out in the open now.”

  His eyes searched mine, and I touched his face with my hand.

  “Take me home, Salvatore.”

  21

  Salvatore

  Lucia sat silently beside me.

  “What is it?” I asked after a few minutes.

  “Effie is Dominic’s daughter. Isabella confirmed it.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “They fell in love, Salvatore. They were young and just fell in love. You were right in what you thought. That’s why Papa sent her away, disowning her. He gave her an ultimatum: abort or leave. She left.”

  I remained silent, understanding a little more of Isabella. I’d pegged her to be a hateful, power-hungry bitch. She might well be, but she was also stronger than I gave her credit for.

  “Dominic was supposed to tell your father, but he never did.”

  I glanced at Lucia. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  “He let her go all alone.” Lucia looked off into the distance. “He sent her money, though.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Lucia.” I don’t know why I felt the need to defend Dominic. I wasn’t, really; I just needed to explain how things were at our house. How my father was. “My father is a very domineering man. When we were kids, Sergio was the only one brave enough to stand up to him.” She opened her mouth to speak, her expression unbelieving. “Wait. I’m not defending Dominic or what he did. I’m just telling you there is more to his story, another layer, like there is with your sister.”

  I’m not sure if she accepted that or not.

  “Luke and Isabella, they’re in love,” she said, changing the subject.

  “I heard he’s out of surgery, and that he’s going to make it.”

  “I’m so relieved.”

  “There are still too many questions, Lucia. This isn’t over.”

  “Who shot Luke?”

  I shook my head. “Unclear. Luke was working with the younger Pagani, Paul Jr. His father forbade any interaction once he found out what his son was up to.”

  “I think Dominic is more involved than you know, Salvatore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He and Isabella, I think they have been working together. She said they had an agreement.”

  Fuck.

  “I think she’s wondering if Dominic ordered Luke’s shooting.”

  “So my little brother is working with Isabella DeMarco and Paul Pagani to bring down his own family?”

  Our gazes locked, but neither of us said more.

  As we pulled up to the tall gates of the house, I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed Roman.

  “What are you doing?” Lucia asked.

  Roman answered.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “At your father’s. The last of the family is just leaving.”

  “Are Natalie and Jacob there?”

  “Just got here. She’s pissed.”

  “Well, don’t unpack her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m calling a family meeting. It’s an emergency. I want you to bring Natalie and Jacob to my house. And I want my father and Dominic here.”

  “What?” Lucia asked.

  “What meeting?” Roman asked. “What’s going on?”

  “Tomorrow morning, I want a second meeting with you, my father, Dominic, both Paul Pagani Sr. and Jr., and Isabella DeMarco. I want you to arrange it.”

  “Izzy?” Lucia asked, her eyes wide as I pulled the car to a stop at the front door.

  “I’ll give you an hour to get the family over here. Call the others for tomorrow morning. Seven o’clock. That should give them enough time to get h
ere. This is going to end.”

  “Let’s meet with the family first and discuss this, Salvatore. I think it would be wise for us to—”

  “This is fucking ending, Uncle. Period.”

  I disconnected the call and turned to Lucia.

  “Salvatore, you can’t involve my sister.”

  “She’s already involved, Lucia. She involved herself.”

  “No, I won’t allow it!”

  “You won’t allow it?” I asked, getting out of the car and going around to her side. She’d already swung the door open and had her crutches on the ground, trying to climb out. I took the crutches in one hand and lifted her out with the other.

  “Put me down. I can do this.”

  “I don’t have time for this, Lucia.”

  “I said put me down!”

  “Christ. You are the most pigheaded…” I set her down, and she leaned on me until she could get the crutches under her. “Let’s go inside.”

  “You want my sister in with that room full of killers?”

  “It will be a peaceful meeting.” We entered the house, and I closed the front door behind us. “This is my house. I make the rules.” I dialed another number on my phone. Once it started to ring, I covered the mouthpiece and turned back to Lucia. “Go upstairs to your room. You’ll wait for me there.”

  “I am not a goddamned child!”

  “Then stop acting like one.”

  Marco answered the call. He was still at the hospital. “Yes?”

  “I need you back at the house. Arrange for two men to stay at the hospital. I’m calling a meeting for tomorrow morning. I need more men here. We’ll have the Pagani father and son along with Isabella DeMarco. The Paganis will bring their own guard. I’m calling for no weapons, but I want the manpower here.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Thank you.” I could trust Marco to take care of things every time.

  “You already sound like you’re the boss of the family,” Lucia taunted, still standing there, not having moved an inch.

  I checked the time and tucked my phone into my pocket before turning to her. I looked her over, her dress rumpled, her eyes looking a little tired, but she was still too damn pretty.