Bound By Love

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Bound By Love Page 2

by Reilly, Cora


  “I guess I got my answer,” he said.

  “To what question?”

  “What it would take for you to try and kill me.”

  I frowned at him. “I will never kill you, Matteo. You are my flesh and blood. You know I trust you with my life.”

  Matteo gave me his shark-grin. “Luca, we both know that’s not true. We are killers. We both would kill the other if given the right incentive. And yours is Aria.”

  I didn’t say anything because he was right.

  “If a few dirty comments already make you go off like that, I know what would happen if I ever hurt her.”

  My fingers on the glass tightened, but this time I managed to stay in my seat. “You won’t hurt her so the discussion is moot. And you are my brother, Matteo. You and Aria are the only people I care about.”

  He nodded, then the tension slipped away and he leaned forward to punch my shoulder.

  I let him and smirked. “You know how to push my fucking buttons.”

  “That’s what I do best,” Matteo said, then in a rare moment of seriousness, “I would probably have done the same if you’d insulted Gianna.”

  I sighed. I’d tried to forget that he’d asked for her hand and that their engagement party was supposed to happen in three weeks. That was going to be a mess. Everyone knew it, except for Matteo. He still believed marrying the bitchy redhead would be a fucking adventure. A joyride through hellfire, no doubt.

  My cell rang and I groaned when I saw it was my stepmother Nina. I’d tried calling her to tell her we’d need the yacht but she hadn’t picked up, and now that she was finally returning my call, I felt my usual contempt rear its head.

  Matteo glanced down at the screen and got up. “Don’t say hi from me. I’ll go ahead and greet the Underbosses and Captains.” He stared at himself at the mirror next to the door and arranged his dark hair until he was satisfied before he sauntered off. I rolled my eyes. Vain bastard. As if my soldiers gave a fuck if he looked pretty.

  The ringing of my phone continued. Talking to Nina and having to listen to my uncles all evening, what a fucking waste of my time, when I had a gorgeous woman waiting in my bed. I took the call. “Nina.”

  “Luca, dear, you called me?”

  Dear? We both knew that there was no love wasted between us. I’d hated her from the moment she’d married my father when I was only ten. Sometimes I’d almost felt pity for her when my sadist father beat her up, but that stopped when I’d seen her take out her frustration on the maids. She was a backstabbing creature—many women in our circles were, either because they had no other way to defend themselves, or because they were bored. Before I got to know Aria, I’d worried she’d hide an ugly persona behind the immaculate appearance, but she was fucking perfect inside and outside. And I was fucking glad, because with a woman like Nina at my side, things would have ended badly.

  “I need Father’s yacht in four days. You’ll have to spend the next two weeks in our holiday house if you don’t want to return to New York,” I told her.

  “I’m touring around the coast of Sardinia. You can’t expect me to return because you decide you need a vacation,” she snapped.

  I’d been too lenient with her since Father’s death three weeks ago. “You will do as I say, Nina. I am Capo now and you’d better remember that I am my father’s son, or have you forgotten what I’m capable of?”

  Silence. I didn’t like hurting women, but shortly after she’d married my father I caught her hitting Matteo. I was only ten but already as tall as her and stronger. I grabbed her by the throat, and perhaps I wouldn’t have let go if Father hadn’t come in that moment. Nina saw it in my eyes then that I was a killer. Father had beaten her to within an inch of her life for touching his sons, even when he tortured Matteo and me all the time to make us stronger. One year later I killed my first man, and six years after that I crushed my cousin’s throat like I’d wanted to crush Nina’s when she’d hurt my brother, and she knew.

  “How can you ask me to return when you know I’m still grieving?” She added that annoying vibrato to her voice as if she was on the verge of tears, which we both knew she wasn’t.

  “Don’t lie to me,” I hissed. “You hated my father as much as I did. You wanted to kill him yourself so don’t pretend you’re sad he’s gone. And don’t pretend you don’t let some jailbait skipper fuck your brains out on Father’s fucking yacht.”

  Nina cleared her throat. Did she think I didn’t have contacts in Sicily? My great uncle was Capo of the Famiglia there, and of course one of his men kept watch over her for me. I’d seen photos of her with the twenty-year-old skipper, and what they’d been doing on deck didn’t look anything like grieving. She was only in her mid-thirties since she was forced to marry my father when she was only nineteen, and I didn’t give a fuck if she screwed around as long as it didn’t cause me problems. “And Nina, I’m Capo, I could decide you have to marry again. There are enough men in my ranks who have the same disposition as my father.”

  She sucked in a breath. I had no intention of marrying her off to someone else. No matter how much I despised her, she’d suffered enough under my father’s rule.

  “You can have the yacht but I won’t come back to New York,” she said quietly.

  “For all I care you can move to Italy, Nina. I don’t miss you, trust me.” Before I hung up, I added. “And have someone clean every inch of the yacht. I don’t want to find any traces of your fucking anywhere, understood?”

  She gasped, but I didn’t wait for her reply.

  After the call with Nina, I was in need of that fucking vacation but first I’d have to survive a meeting with the Underbosses of the Famiglia, two of whom were my uncles, and two the husbands of my aunts. I headed out of my office and to the very last door in the back of the Sphere.

  I stepped inside. Everyone was already gathered around the oval wooden table. Matteo’s expression didn’t bode well. It was good I joined them or he’d soon have killed someone.

  The men got up, even Matteo, because he knew how to keep up appearances even if he never treated me like a Capo when we were alone—but Uncle Gottardo took his sweet-ass time rising from his chair, probably his way of showing me that he didn’t respect me.

  I indicated for them to sit back down as I let my gaze wander over them. There was Uncle Ermano, my father’s youngest brother, who was Underboss of Atlanta, and my uncle Gottardo who ruled over Washington DC in my name. Across from them sat Uncle Durant, who ruled over Pittsburgh and was the husband of my aunt Crimella, and next to him sat Uncle Felix, husband of Aunt Egidia and Underboss of Baltimore. The Underbosses who ruled over Charleston, Norfolk, Boston and Philadelphia weren’t related to me, at least not close enough to be considered family. All the men were in their late forties to late sixties, except for Matteo and me. My uncles thought I was too young to be Capo. They didn’t say it outright but I knew it from the looks they shared, from the occasional challenging comment.

  “There’s a lot for us to discuss. I know this is only our second meeting and you have to get used to my way of dealing with things, but I’m sure we can control the Russian threat if we work together as one.”

  “In your father’s time, the Bratva would have never dared to attack the Vitiello mansion. They showed respect,” Gottardo said. His eyes held contempt. He still hated me for having crushed his son’s throat six years ago, but my cousin got what he deserved for trying to kill Matteo and me to improve his position. If it had been up to me, Gottardo would have shared his fate. I still doubted Gottardo hadn’t been involved in any of this. Father had believed his claims of innocence for whatever inexplicable reasons, but I distrusted the man. If I had to make a bloody statement to establish myself as Capo, I’d start with him.

  “My father got hit in the head by a Bratva bullet. How’s that showing respect?” I asked in a deadly voice as I stepped to the front of the table. I didn’t sit down, wanting them to crane back their fucking necks to look up at me. Let them see
who ruled over the city now, who ruled over them. I didn’t give a fuck if they were happy that I was Capo at only twenty-three. I’d kill every fucker in the room if it meant I stayed in power.

  Matteo shot me a grin. He’d taken out his knife when Gottardo had spoken and was now twirling it around in his hands, his feet propped up on the table. He definitely would appreciate a bloody statement.

  Gottardo and my other uncles slanted him nervous glances. They would have never become Underbosses if it weren’t for my father. The other men who’d earned that position, they were the ones I needed to convince of my capability, because they held their soldiers’ respect.

  “You need to send them another message,” Gottardo said sharply.

  I walked around and stopped beside his chair. He made a move to stand up but I shoved him back down. “I sent them Vitali in bite-sized pieces, a letter of warning attached to his cut-off dick. I think they got the message. Question is if you got the message that I’m your Capo, Gottardo.” He had to crane his neck all the way back to meet my gaze. Then it flitted over to Ermano beside him for help, then over to my other uncles. Neither of them made a move to come to his aid.

  “You’d do good to respect your elders. Perhaps the others are too cowardly to say it out loud, but you shouldn’t have become Capo. You may be strong and cruel, but you are too young,” he muttered, trying to salvage his pride.

  Matteo lowered his feet from the table, the grin slipping off.

  “And who, pray tell, should have become Capo in my stead? You, Uncle?” I said in a low voice. “After all, your family tried to stop me from becoming Capo once before, and your son paid with a crushed throat for the betrayal.”

  Gottardo jumped up and this time I let him. He only reached my nose, so if he thought he could impress me like that, he was a fucking fool. “He would have been a better Capo than you. I would be a better Capo. You, like your father, aren’t fit for the honor.”

  “Now, Gottardo, you are talking bullshit and you know it,” Durant muttered, eyes flitting nervously between Matteo and me.

  I gave Gottardo my coldest smile. “That sounds a lot like breach of oath to me. I am your Capo.”

  “I never made an oath to follow you.”

  Ermano grabbed his brother and tried to pull him back down, but Gottardo resisted. “Shut up, Gottardo, for God’s sake. What’s gotten into you?”

  “No,” he spat out. “First Salvatore, now him. I won’t follow the orders of someone who could be my son. If it wasn’t for his father, he wouldn’t be Capo. He inherited the title but he’s not worthy.”

  “If we weren’t family, I’d have cut your tongue out by now,” Matteo said as he came up behind me.

  I wanted to kill Gottardo on the spot, wanted to crush his throat like I’d done with his fucking son. I was one hundred percent sure that he’d sent his son to kill me all those years ago.

  I looked at each of my Underbosses. “How fast can you summon your Captains and their soldiers for a meeting?”

  Mansueto, Underboss of Philadelphia, stood, supporting his weight with his cane. Since his second heart attack three months ago, he’d become a shadow of the man I’d known. His family was loyal to the bone. If he died, it would lead to more trouble. Philadelphia was important, and his son Cassio was only four years older than me. “Tonight. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”

  The other men nodded their agreement, everyone except for Gottardo, who was watching me with suspicion, and Ermano who said: “It takes at least fifteen hours to drive up here from Atlanta. And I don’t know if we can fly everyone over that quickly. Tomorrow morning would be better if you intend to involve the soldiers as well.”

  Matteo shot me a questioning look but I faced off with Gottardo. “Then tomorrow morning. Call everyone. Tomorrow I’ll have every Made Man of the Famiglia make their oath to me.”

  Gottardo sneered. “What makes you think they will do it? Perhaps they want someone else to be Capo.”

  I nodded. “I will allow whoever deems himself more worthy to challenge me. You can contest against me. If you get the support of the majority of the soldiers, I will step down.”

  Matteo looked at me like I’d lost my fucking mind, but I knew this was the only way to force all the voices who doubted me because of my age to die down.

  “Tomorrow at eleven in the abandoned Yonkers power plant,” I ordered. My men exchanged looks. That was where the last bloodbath in the history of the Famiglia had gone down, and the press called the place Gateway to Hell. I sent Gottardo a smirk. “Good luck, Uncle.”

  I turned on my heel and left them to their shock. I was done with this fucking meeting. Until I had the full support of the Famiglia, it made no sense to discuss the Bratva.

  Matteo jogged after me. “Luca, you are Capo. Why are you risking everything?”

  “I’m not,” I said. “My men will pledge loyalty to me.”

  Matteo stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “You should have cut Uncle Gottardo’s throat. That would have quieted down the doubters as well. We’re not the fucking Senate or anything. We don’t vote our Capo, Luca.”

  “I’m the youngest Capo in history and I need to silence all my enemies. This once I will give them the chance to speak up.”

  “And you are sure you will still be Capo tomorrow?” Matteo asked quietly.

  “The Famiglia needs strength. They need a brutal hand. My men know that.” And everyone knew there was no one who could deal out revenge with more brutality than I.

  Matteo nodded, then squeezed my shoulder. “I hope you are right, because if not things will get bloody.”

  I met his gaze. “I won’t ever bow down to anyone’s orders again. I will either rule over the East, or I will go down fighting.”

  “I know. So if things don’t go as planned we’ll have to knife and shoot our way out. And we might both die, and I hate to say it, but I’d really loathe to die before I get the chance to fuck Gianna at least once.”

  I shook my head. “Perhaps I’m saving you a lot of trouble if I get us killed.”

  He smirked. “I like trouble,” he said, as if didn’t I know it. “Will you tell Aria about this?”

  I paused. I had to figure out a way to keep her safe if things went downhill. There were many men in my ranks who would love to get their hands on her, and that was never going to happen. “No,” I said. “I don’t want her to worry about me.”

  chapter 2

  ARIA

  Something was off. I’d known it the moment Luca had come home last night, and my suspicions were confirmed the next morning as I watched him put on his gun and knife holsters. Two knives strapped to his front, two to his back with two knives below. Two more knives at his calves. Luca had asked me to get ready as well, but didn’t say why. He hadn’t been forthcoming with any kind of information, but something must have happened with his Underbosses yesterday for him to call a meeting of the entire Famiglia.

  “Luca, I’m starting to get worried,” I said quietly as I brushed my hair then lowered the brush to my vanity in the bedroom.

  “Don’t worry,” he said firmly, taking my hand and pulling me against his chest. “This is me being overprotective. You will spend the morning with Romero. He will keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m worried for you, not me,” I said with a frown.

  His expression softened, but then he gave me a smirk. “I’m difficult to kill.”

  I jerked. “Someone will try to kill you today?”

  He kissed my lips, his hold on me tightening almost painfully before he pulled back. His hand around mine, he led me downstairs where Romero was waiting, looking as worried as I felt. He quickly masked his emotions when he spotted me, but it was too late. “Luca,” I whispered. “What’s going on? I thought this was only a meeting of the Famiglia.”

  Romero and Luca exchanged a look, and Romero nodded, then moved toward the entrance door.

  Luca cupped my cheeks, his body shielding us from Romero’s gaze. I searched hi
s eyes for reassurance but he shut me out. Fear clawed at my chest, and tears sprang into my eyes. Perhaps he tried to shield me from the realities of mob life, but I was the daughter of the Outfit’s Consigliere. The mafia was in my blood. I knew its rules, its people. A new Capo meant a shift in power.

  Luca shook his head. “No,” he growled. “No tears.”

  I blinked and sucked in a deep breath. “You will return to me.” It was more question than statement.

  Dark determination filled Luca’s face. “Always. Even if I have to slaughter a thousand men to do it.”

  Good God. I believed him. He gave me another kiss then tried to step back, but I tightened my hold around his waist.

  “Aria,” he said quietly, but I didn’t release him. Luca gave Romero a sign and a moment later, Romero gripped my upper arms and gently pried me off Luca. After a last look at me, Luca walked out of the apartment. The elevator doors closed to his strong back.

  “Come on, Aria,” Romero said in a gentle voice, releasing me. “We should get going as well.”

  “Is he in trouble? Is it because he’s a young Capo?”

  Romero shook his head. “Luca doesn’t want you to know details. Don’t ask me for answers I can’t give you.”

  LUCA

  The Yonkers power plant with its reddish brown brick front loomed near the Hudson River, a crumbling relic of the past—like my uncles.

  “The Gateway to Hell,” Matteo muttered under his breath as we parked near the entrance. The neglected surroundings of the power station were crowded with dozens of cars.

  Gateway to Hell… The press had given the building that name in recent years because of gang wars, but the last real bloodbath had been orchestrated by the Famiglia, and perhaps today another one would follow. Romero was taking Aria on a trip around the city today. I didn’t want her in our penthouse or in the mansion if things escalated. If Matteo and I died, Romero would take her to Chicago. The Outfit would protect her.

 

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