Salvatore: An In Too Far Novel
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By Cecy Robson
The Shattered Past Series
Once Perfect
Once Loved
Once Pure
The O’Brien Family Novels
Once Kissed
Let Me
Crave Me
Feel Me
Save Me
The Carolina Beach Novels
Inseverable
Eternal
Infinite
The In Too Far Series
Salvatore
The Weird Girls Series
Gone Hunting
A Curse Awakened: A Novella
The Weird Girls: A Novella
Sealed with a Curse
A Cursed Embrace
Of Flame and Promise
A Cursed Moon: A Novella
Cursed by Destiny
A Cursed Bloodline
A Curse Unbroken
Of Flame and Light
Of Flame and Fate
Of Flame and Fury (coming soon)
APPS
Find Cecy on Hooked – Chat stories APP writing as Rosalina San Tiago
Coming soon: Crazy Maple’s Chapters: Interactive Stories APP: The Shattered Past and Weird Girls Series
Salvatore
An In Too Far Novel
Cecy Robson
Salvatore is purely a work of fiction. Names, places, and occurrences are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright Cecy Robson, 2019
Edited by Nicole Resciniti
Cover design © Kristin Clifton, Sweet Bird Designs
Formatting by BippityBoppityBook.com
Excerpt from Let Me by Cecy Robson, copyright © 2016 by Cecy Robson
This book contains an excerpt from Let Me by Cecy Robson, the second full length novel in The O’Brien Family Romance series by Cecy Robson.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Cecy Robson, L.L.C.
ASIN: B07N1G5VKW
eBook ISBN: 978-1947330-20-7
Print ISBN: 978-1947330-21-4
Acknowledgments
Okay, ya’ll. I went dark for this novel, real dark . . . and I absolutely love the way it all came out. Salvatore has gasp-worthy moments and enough romance to curl toes. Your heart will break as well as soar. I hope you love every word, just as much as I did.
To Nicole Resciniti, my agent and editor on this project. Thank you for helping to shape Salvatore into the man he became.
To Jamie, who really loved this book. Dark, sexy—it was all the right things, wasn’t it, babe? What would I ever do without your love and support?
To Kimberly Costa, my right hand. My left hand. And yeah, feet, too. Thank you for your hard work and friendship.
To Kristin Clifton whose covers are more art than mere images. Thank you for creating such a beautiful cover. Your friendship and patience are everything.
Many thanks to Gaele Hince for (once more) coming to the rescue with formatting. I have the best team this hybrid author could ask for.
Dedication
To Jamie: This was your kind of book, wasn’t it, babe?
By Cecy Robson
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Excerpt of Let Me
About Cecy Robson
Chapter One
Salvatore
“What do you think, Salvatore?”
Donnie taps her iPad with her long red nails when she finds yet another pair of shoes she wants. Like I actually give a shit what she’s buying with Vincent’s money.
“Sure. Get them,” I answer, not bothering to really look and fixing my gaze back on the door.
She pouts in that way that annoys me, but probably gets Vin hard. “That’s what you said about the other six. I’m serious. Which ones should I get?”
I don’t have to tell her that Vincent will buy her whatever she wants so long as she keeps blowing him, but I come close. The muscles along my back are ready to tear away from the bone. Every nerve along my spine fires a warning that shit’s about to go down. But I don’t show it, my face giving nothing away. “Donnie, I’m paid to watch your back. Not help you pick out shoes,” I mutter.
She starts to argue, but a knock on the door shuts her up,
so does me motioning her to the corner. She may spend her days worrying about what she looks like and what she’ll wear, but she’s not stupid enough to ignore me.
I lean against the wall, opposite the door. Donnie might have shrugged off Vin yelling down the hall, but I didn’t. He isn’t happy. Neither are the other mob bosses in Jersey. It won’t be long before hell itself rains down on us. “Yeah?” I ask, keeping my deep voice casual, like my piece isn’t already clutched in my hands.
“Vincent wants you in on the meeting,” Lucca says.
Lucca’s smart. And for someone who hasn’t been in the family long, he’s tough and good on his feet. But I pick up enough in his voice to know this meeting’s not going as planned. So maybe Vin didn’t send for me. Maybe Lucca thinks I’m needed. If so, things are a lot worse than I thought.
Donnie looks at me, her preoccupation with shoes nothing more than a memory. “Lock the door behind me,” I tell her.
She rushes forward. I snag her elbow and pull her in tight to whisper in her ear. “You hear shots, you leave out the back, through the alley and down the street. Find a diner, a store, any place with lots of people. Got me?”
She nods, but she’s trembling already. Shots fired means there are plenty more to come. The other family knows who Donnie is to Vin. But if they don’t know she’s here, or if they find her with too many witnesses, she’ll be okay.
She clutches my arm when I start to leave. “Sal . . .” she says.
Donatella and me are from the old neighborhood. We’ve known each other since back when we were kids and were too stupid to know shit about organized crime. Now, we’re more stupid, because we’re willingly a part of it. She wants to say something like “be careful” or “keep him safe” or something else I don’t need to hear. So, I don’t.
I crack open the door, making sure Lucca’s standing there alone, and step out.
His eyes cut toward the hall leading to Vincent’s office, where he’s meeting with Arturo, the boss in charge of most of South Jersey, including Atlantic City. Yeah. Shit’s going down. But I don’t move until Donnie clicks the lock behind me.
Lucca starts forward, moving fast. I haul him back. “Easy,” I hiss.
That’s all he needs to hear. He slows, mimicking my pace and stance, chest out, hand curled near the piece at his waist, face hard and unreadable.
Arturo’s men stand in unison when we round the corner. At the sight of me, Vin’s men rise, too. They see what I want them to see in Lucca and me. A united front. It solidifies our crew and tenses Arturo’s. As Vin’s crew fixes their hard stares on the other family, I know they’re ready for what the next few minutes will bring.
I reach Vin’s office door. It’s open, wide open, and it pisses me off. An open door shows weakness and it demonstrates how scared Vin is about being alone with the other boss.
I march in and take point to Vin’s right. Lucca starts to head to his opposite side, but he catches the subtle motion of my left hand that tells him to stay by the door. I want to tell him to shut the door and lock it, but I can’t without raising the paranoia already thickening the air. Like I said, Lucca’s smart. He shuts the door and flicks the deadbolt.
Arturo huffs when he realizes he’s closed in. “What the fuck’s this?” He doesn’t turn around from where he’s seated directly in front of Vin, but his second sitting beside him, and his enforcer straighten at my presence. I expected them to react upon seeing me, but I don’t expect the same response from Vin’s third, Angelo. Their reaction is so subtle that everyone gathered seems to miss it. But me, I don’t miss a thing, ever. The one time I did, it cost me the only woman I’ve ever loved.
“Just a little privacy, Mr. Sorenzo.” I answer, because Vin waited too long to respond and he’s already lost enough face.
Vin eases back in his chair. He knows I’m there and that I have his back, but his fingers digging into the armrest give it away, he’s scared shitless. Christ. How many times have I told him to keep his hands relaxed and his expression like stone? His ailing father has been grooming him to take over his empire for six fucking years, and Vin’s still not ready. The other bosses are honing in on his incompetence. Which is why I’m not sure how much longer I can help keep Vin alive.
“Let’s get back to business,” Vin says, trying to sound harder than he is.
Arturo smiles in that sleazy way of his and tosses a hand out. “I believe we’ve reached a standstill,” he says.
“You’re right, we have,” Vin fires back, getting pissed. Good, anger is better than fear and, right now, it’s exactly what he needs. He leans forward. “You’re not getting the rest of A.C. And you’re not getting an eighty percent―”
My 380 auto is out and pointed at Arturo’s enforcer before his fingers reach the hilt. “Move and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” Without me telling him, Lucca rams his guns in the back of Arturo’s and his second’s skulls. Smart guy. I reach for my 9 mil tucked in my leather jacket, not even blinking when I shoot Vin’s third in the leg, blowing out his kneecap.
With a scream, Angelo falls to the floor howling. “What the fuck?” Vin growls, leaping to his feet.
I don’t explain why I shot one of his made men, someone he trusted. My next bullet goes into the enforcer, the impact and his pain enough to send him flying off his chair. He went for his Sig. I wasn’t waiting for him to pull the trigger. Outside, all hell’s breaking loose, my heartbeat pounding fast in my chest until I hear the voices of Vin’s family taking control.
Less than a minute later, a sharp rap to the door is followed by Benny’s deep voice. “Sal?”
“All clear,” I tell him, my tone steady. “You?”
It’s not my words that he believes, it’s the confidence behind them. “All clear,” he responds in the same tone, letting me know they have Arturo’s men on the ground.
Vin’s reaching into the drawer, pulling out his Glock. To his credit, he’s not questioning anything anymore, not after Arturo’s enforcer went for his piece. He’s reining in his shit like he needs to.
Lucca covers me as I strip every one of their weapons. Angelo is wailing like the little bitch he is. The enforcer is swearing, pressing the wound on his shoulder as blood seeps through his fingers. I intentionally missed his heart. But no one needs to know that.
I drop the weapons beside Vin and far out of everyone’s reach. Arturo and his second haven’t said a damn thing. They weren’t scared of Vin before. But they are now.
I’m not sure what Vin’s going to say. My fear is, he may say the wrong thing in front of Lucca that makes him look pathetic. Lucca is loyal, so are a few others, but if they keep seeing Vin acting like he’s acting, they’ll lose whatever respect he’s managed outside his title of boss.
“Vin knew you were playing him, you pussy,” I tell Angelo, lying through my teeth. “Were you going to kill him in front of Arturo? Was that your way into the family, you lying piece of shit?”
In not answering, he answers enough. At Vin’s nod, Lucca puts a bullet in Arturo’s second, and finishes off the enforcer.
Vin motions to the door. “Call in a few of my men,” he tells me.
I unlock the door and do as he asked, after I make sure everything is still under control. Vin’s not ready to be boss, but he isn’t stupid, at least not completely. He knows Arturo needs to die by his hands, and that he needs witnesses to see him. I pick three who have started to question Vin’s strength, knowing they’ll tell the rest of the family what’s about to go down, and show them what happens to those who don’t stay loyal.
The men pile in, but Vin doesn’t let them get too comfortable. He shoots Arturo in the face with his Glock while the last two to enter are still busy taking in Angelo, writhing on the floor. Vin keeps his face neutral, his confidence returning now that he knows his life isn’t immediately on the line.
I take a step back when he prowls toward Angelo. Angelo was Vin’s trusted third. To be who Vin wants to be, he has to send a message. But I
don’t tell him that. It’s something he needs to realize on his own. “What did he promise you after you killed me, pussy?” he asks Angelo.
Angelo doesn’t deny his intention. Doesn’t beg for his life. He knows it’s over. So, he hits Vin the only way he can. “Your father’s the pussy for letting a chicken shit like you take over.”
Vin’s heel comes down hard on Angelo’s face, smashing his nose in. But he doesn’t stop there. He snatches the paperweight on his desk and flings himself to the floor, bashing Angelo’s face in, not stopping until the side of his temple caves inward.
To anyone eyeing me, it looks like I’m watching everything and immune to it all. Yeah. My face never gives anything away. That doesn’t mean my body’s not punishing me on the inside. I fight back the nausea working its way through my gut and just how hard my heartbeat thunders out of control. Weakness in the mob and in life gets you killed. I need to live, despite how my sins have all but sliced my throat.
“Fuck,” one of the boys says, looking away. He’s new and probably has killed with his gun. But shooting someone is easy. Too easy. It’s not intimate. Not like killing someone with your bare hands like Vin just did.
Vin stumbles to his feet, out of breath and covered with plenty of Angelo’s DNA. His face twists as if angry, which makes him look good, but I know better. “Get rid of them,” he says, spitting out blood that hit his mouth.
“What about his men?” someone else asks.
“All of them need to go,” Vin says, falling back into the leather seat behind his chair.