Honor (Made Book 1)

by Melissa Ellen

  I tilted my head away, gripping the thin material of my pencil skirt in my fists. “If I’m acting like a child, it’s because you’re treating me like one, forcing me to marry someone I don’t love.”

  “Love,” he said bitterly, pushing to his feet. “Love is an illusion.” He walked to the bar in his office, pouring himself a drink. “A weakness we cannot afford in this family. Lorenzo is loyal. He will provide for you. Keep you safe. That is what matters.”

  My jaw tightened at his description of Lorenzo. He was only loyal to my father, not me. We both knew he was still sleeping with his whores and would continue even after we said our vows. It didn’t matter. I would never allow him to touch me.

  “I can provide for myself,” I argued. “And I don’t understand—”

  “Exactly!” he roared, slamming the bottle down. “You don’t understand!”

  I jumped, my heart racing. It wasn’t often my father lost his temper with me. I made sure of it, knowing what he was capable of when someone crossed him or made him angry. Lately, I’d had a harder time keeping a level head and my mouth shut. Maybe because I knew the gilded cage holding me hostage was closing in, growing smaller and smaller.

  I dropped my head, keeping my eyes on the fists in my lap, my spine rigid with panic. “I’m sorry, Papa,” I said, trying my best to sound sincere and assuage his anger.

  His body relaxed and closed the distance between us. “I know, mi cara.” His hand brushed my cheek. “This is what’s best for you. It’s what your mother would’ve wanted, also.”

  I nodded, even though I knew it wasn’t true. His words sounded so genuine, as if he believed his own lies. With a weak smile, I stood, causing his hand to fall away from me. “I need to go. I’m meeting a friend for brunch.”

  “Take Luca with you,” he commanded at my retreating back.

  I paused my steps, wanting to argue at having a chaperone, but I’d pushed enough of his buttons for one day, so I kept silent.

  “And Lena, you’ll be joining us for dinner this evening at the club. Wear something nice, something Lorenzo would like.”

  “Yes, Papa,” I agreed quickly and left before he forced another one of his demands on me.

  I meandered through the rooms of Fifth Floor Boutique, sifting through the racks, biting down my annoyance at a hovering Luca. Brunch had been a lie, an excuse to leave the house—my prison. One I hoped Luca wasn’t aware of. If he was and reported back to my father like the good little soldier he was, I already had my next lie prepared: a last-minute cancellation by my friend. I wouldn’t need anyone to back my story. He never cared enough to ask who I was meeting.

  Most of my friends were no longer true friends. They’d moved on with their lives in ways I wasn’t allowed. Now, I was left with only the wives and girlfriends of the members of the family as companions. Women who hadn’t been born into the life I lived, but had chosen it instead.

  The loss of real friends left me feigning happiness with every person in my daily life. I was constantly surrounded and lonely.

  The only person I’d ever trusted enough to be myself with had left me. Maybe my father was right. Love was an illusion.

  I’d thought we loved each other, thought we could somehow overcome the obstacles that held me captive. Unfortunately, my bleak future wasn’t something either of us could overcome. I was promised to someone else and he wasn’t meant for this world—his heart too good, his soul too pure. It’s why I loved him. It’s why I was jealous of the choices he was able to make for himself.

  He’d made the right one. I knew that. It didn’t make it hurt any less.

  Picking out a few dresses from the rack, I handed them to the store attendant. She walked ahead of me, leading me to the dressing room, Luca hot on my heels.

  Stopping, I spun to face him, placing my hand against his chest, halting his stride. “You are not following me into the dressing room.”

  “Boss said not to let you out of my sight.” He smirked.

  The pervert.

  “I don’t give a damn what my father told you. You’ll wait out here.” I glared, dropping my hand to my hip.

  “Fine. Whatever.” He turned and walked away to stand near the entrance, his eyes now lingering on a scantily dressed woman with long legs a few feet away.

  I rolled my eyes then walked into the oversized dressing room, thanking the sales associate, and closing the door. After walking around the bench, I sat and slipped off my heels.

  I heard the light click of the door and caught a glimpse of movement behind me in the mirror. Confused, I twisted to see who’d entered without knocking, when a hand tightened over my mouth, preventing my scream from ringing out.

  “Calm down, Lena. It’s just me.”

  My eyes widened at the sound of his deep voice. The familiar smell of his cologne floated through the air, subduing the terror I’d felt seconds before, but not the forceful beating of my heart. His hand slowly lowered as I nodded. He stepped around the bench to stand in front of me.

  “Mario,” I whispered through my strained breathing.

  The twitch on his lips slowly grew into a wide smile, begging for me to kiss them. The look in his eyes made me want to jump into his arms the way I used to and run my hands over the dark scruff along his sharp jaw. Dressed in black slacks and a white button down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing muscular arms, he was more gorgeous than the memories I’d held on to for months.

  “Wha…what are you doing here?” I asked, still unsure he wasn’t a vision conjured by my deprived heart.

  He kneeled in front of me. The warmth of his hand covered mine as he laced our pinkies together, the familiar gesture comforting. His face fell, his gaze not meeting mine as he stared at the ring on my finger.

  A frown pulled at my brow when he said nothing. “Mario?”

  “Do you love him?” He looked up at me with an emotionless mask.

  “How can you ask me that?”

  “That’s not an answer,” he clipped.

  It was annoying. He already knew the answer. Even if he didn’t know me better than anyone, he had a talent for always knowing what people were thinking. I’d always been an open book to him. He only wanted to hear me say the words.

  “It’s a stupid question. And frankly, not one you deserve an answer to.” I pulled my hand away and stood, forcing him to do the same and take a step back. My excitement at seeing him diminished. The hurt I’d felt for months now pushed back to the forefront. “It’s none of your business. I’m none of your business. So, tell me, what are you doing here?”

  He shoved a hand through his black hair, his eyes flittering furiously over the room. “I needed to see you.”

  I silenced my hopeful heart, turning my back to him, a silent beat passing between us. “You ended things.” The accusation on my lips was faint but potent. “You left me, so you could move on and forget about me.”

  “If you thought for a moment that could be true, that I’d ever move on or forget about you, then you never loved me the way I love you.”

  His words pierced my determination to keep us apart. I felt the heat of his body suddenly hovering at my back. Near, yet still too far. I leaned into him, relaxing into the strength of his firm chest, feeling safe for the first time in a long time. The feeling would only be temporary. But I needed it, nonetheless.

  He wrapped me with a single arm across my collarbone, holding me close while the tip of his nose grazed up the side of my throat. A tingling spread under my skin as a warmth filled my belly slowly trickling south. His other hand slipped into mine like it belonged there. Maybe it did. Maybe I wanted it to. It was a dangerous thing to want. For both of us. If anyone had seen…we’d both end up dead. The thought snapped me out of my carelessness.

  “Luca,” I gasped, spinning to face him.

  “Doesn’t know. He was too busy flirting with one of the sales associates. Not much of a bodyguard you have there. I slipped in unnoticed,” Mario assured me, lightly st
roking the tips of his fingers over my arm, sending small tremors down my spine.

  “You’re good at that.” My lips pursed with an unexpected smile.

  “I’m good at a lot of things, as you know,” he taunted with his ruthless grin.

  “Like breaking my heart.” My claws reappeared. I had plenty of time to sharpen them when he left.

  He winced, dropping his hand and his smile. “I made a mistake.”

  “No,” I sighed, shoving some hair behind my ear and lowering my gaze. I couldn’t stare at his deep brown eyes that held so much remorse. I was wrong for making him feel that way. I understood why he ended things when he did. They were always going to end. “You didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m just…”

  “I know.” He lifted my chin. “And I’m sorry for hurting you before. But things are different now, Lena. I’m home for good. And I’m not letting you go this time.”

  “How? We still can’t be together. I’m engaged, whether I want to be or not. My father will never agree to let me marry you. And your family… After what happened with your father…they’d never approve of—"

  Cradling my face in his palms, he silenced my rambling. “Don’t worry about my family. Things will be different soon. Trust me.”

  I did trust him. And I wanted to believe him. But this wasn’t a fairytale. Our love couldn’t save us. There was no running away. My father had contacts all over the world. They’d find us and kill us. The same way I was certain they had my mother when she’d tried to leave.

  Reading the doubts running through my mind, Mario dipped his head, his lips tentatively brushing against mine before becoming more demanding, wiping all thoughts away.

  I clung to his shoulders, my fingers digging in, never wanting to let go. I moaned at the feel of his hands on me, starting to roam my curves, until reality hit me like the bitch it was once again. I broke away, heavily breathing. At any minute Luca could show up, wondering what was taking me so long.

  “We can’t do this. I have to go.” It was the last thing I wanted. But I couldn’t risk us being caught.

  His forehead pressed against mine, his thumb rubbing over my slightly swollen bottom lip. “I know.” He stepped away, his eyes traveling over me, his lips twisting up ruefully. “I missed the fuck out of you, Lena.”

  A grin tugged at my mouth. “Good.”

  His head shook with amusement, his low chuckle causing the heat in my belly to spread. I wanted to touch him again, if only to muss his disheveled hair some more.

  He glanced over at the dresses I’d selected to try on. He smiled fondly, running his hand over the silky, dark emerald green one with a long slit up the thigh. I already knew what he was thinking. It was the reason I’d chosen it. He’d always loved me in green, claimed it brought out the color of my eyes.

  Slipping a finger under the hanger, he lifted it from the hook. “This one,” he said, passing it to me. “Wear it tonight. I’ll find you.”

  I bit at the corner of my bottom lip, his promise shooting straight to the ache between my legs. I took it and then slid my shoes back on.

  He leaned in, kissing my cheek. “I’ll see you soon, bella.”

  My heart splintered some more. I ran a hand along his jaw one more time, breathed him in one more time, letting myself believe in the fairytale one more time, then slipped out of the room, leaving him behind for the last time. Forever wasn’t meant for us. The life we dreamed of was fantasyland. I couldn’t let myself live there again.

  Taking a deep breath, I swiped at the tear that had leaked down my cheek and walked away from the one man I’d always long for.

  5

  Mario

  I’d been trained to predict every outcome. Expect the unexpected. Weigh the risks and act instantly. There was no time to second guess. Second guessing meant a life lost. My encounter with Lena in the dressing room had been unplanned, yet a calculated risk. A risk I was forced to take.

  I’d been watching her for weeks, keeping my distance, studying her patterns and the men who guarded her, all so I could find the right moment to speak with her in private. That moment, or more accurately fucking Luca, had presented itself.

  He had the attention span of a toddler and was less aware of his surroundings than a blind man. Granted, it worked in my favor, it still pissed me off that these were the guys Moretti had guarding his only daughter.

  Most Italian fathers fiercely protected their daughters, treated them like princesses, placed them on a pedestal, and threatened to kill any man who even thought about looking at them wrong. Not Moretti. He had at one time, but somewhere along the way he’d stopped caring for her the way he used to. It was around the same time her mother disappeared, never to be found. Rumors were, it was Moretti’s doing, but nobody could ever prove it.

  That had been a rough time for Lena; she’d been four when her mother left. Four years later, her mother was found dead in a burning car. The image of the happy family she always thought she had started to crack and shatter.

  The day she witnessed the cruelty of her father from behind a dumpster in a grungy alley, I thought she would forever be changed. As always, she surprised me. After an hour of silently sobbing in my arms, she’d brushed off her tears and put on a brave face. She went home and faced the man who had just murdered another in cold blood.

  It was weeks before the light had started to return to her eyes after that. I’d never seen her that broken until today, which is exactly why I took the risk.

  She’d always been strong, resilient. Lena was a Moretti after all. But over that time, I wished every day I could steal her away from the man who was her father. There was nowhere to go, though. We were kids, both with families tied to the mafia. The only thing I could do was promise I’d take care of her the same way I did Gia, protecting them from the dark truths of our world as best I could.

  We grew close through the years and somewhere along the way, she started to feel less like a little sister. The fact she was beautiful—dark hair, piercing green eyes, full lips, and long-legged with curves and tits that caught every fucking guy’s attention on our block—didn’t hurt either. But that wasn’t what made me fall for her. It wasn’t something I could explain, other than somewhere down deep inside I knew that she was mine.

  She’d always been mine.

  She knew it and I knew it.

  Lorenzo Ricci be damned.

  I had a good feeling that mother fucker was the one extinguishing the light in her beautiful green eyes now. She was lost. It’s why I didn’t think twice when I snuck through the back door of the Fifth Floor Boutique.

  I lost my damn breath the moment I saw her up close, and about lost my damn mind when I held her hand with his engagement ring on her finger. He thought he could claim her, own her, all because her father gave him permission. I’d take pleasure in showing him just how fucking wrong he was and finally ending the long-time rivalry between the Ricci and Leoni families.

  Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be any time soon. I had a job to do. And tonight, was just the start.

  Straightening the lapels of my black suit jacket, I followed the hostess through the dimly lit club to the private section of the dining room. The smooth, fluid cadence of the jazz singer carried over the light chatter of the dining socialites.

  The hostess pointed in the direction of my awaiting party, then turned to leave. Two of Moretti’s men flanked an oversized circular booth where he sat tall on one end with his latest girlfriend pressed against him. Lorenzo and Lena sat opposite of them on the other end.

  “Mario Leoni!” Matteo Moretti howled over the music, arms opened wide in greeting when he spotted me.

  His dark, emotionless eyes wrinkled in the corners, his disingenuous smile wide and toothy. His black hair was sprinkled with grays at the temples, a faded version of the man I remembered. Regardless, the man could still intimidate a room just by being in it.

  The two guard dogs stepped forward to pat me down before barely moving aside for me to pass.
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  “Mr. Moretti”—I shook his hand—“thanks for inviting me.”

  I didn’t spare Lena a glance, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to show any emotion toward her in public.

  “You’re Angelo’s son. The pleasure is all mine.” Matteo threw his arm around the big-breasted, middle-aged brunette plastered at his side. “Have you met Ariana?”

  “No. Can’t say that I have.”

  With a sinful smile and eyes raking over me, she gave me her manicured hand. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see.”

  Forcing a smile in return, I shook it quickly. It didn’t surprise me she knew my father. Women like her, loose and desperate, tended to make their rounds from one made man to the next.

  “And you remember my beautiful daughter, Lena, and her fiancé Lorenzo.” Matteo gestured toward the couple.

  Flicking my gaze to them, I offered a hand to Lorenzo. “Of course.”

  He took my hand and I gripped a little harder than necessary, wishing I could punch that cocky smile off his face and break the hand he had draped over Lena’s bare shoulder.

  All in due time, I reminded myself.

  Sadly, for now, I had to keep my shit together. This little dinner date was nothing more than a test, and I planned on passing it with fucking flying colors. Seeing him with Lena was going to make that a little more difficult. I had no doubt that was the point. I should’ve thought twice about suggesting she wear that dress. She was stunning and I wasn’t permitted to even acknowledge it without raising suspicion.

  Matteo was aware of Lena’s and my friendship over the years. It hadn’t grown into more until a few months before I left for the West Coast. Though we kept it quiet, I was sure Matteo had suspected us. He’d chosen tonight to test me with his theory.

  I dropped Lorenzo’s hand, then finally turned my eyes to Lena’s. “Lena, it’s been awhile. How have you been?”

  Her face placid, she picked up her wine glass. “Good. And you? Last I heard, you were in California.” Avoiding my eyes, she took a sip as she waited for my response.