Fall (A Mafia Crime Family Romance)

by Bella Love-Wins

  I hope to God that I’ll be as effective when I step into his shoes.

  I owe this family at least that much. They may not be my blood, but they’re everything to me.

  At the sound of a soft knock on the door, all our heads turn to our man guarding it. He pulls it open on Romano’s nods of approval to see who it is.

  And when she walks in, all the air gets sucked out of the room.

  I should know better than to let anything distract my focus as he wraps up the last of his instructions under his breath.

  My eyes should be on the boss.

  But they’re not.

  Because as hard as I try, I can’t stop my gaze from traveling slowly down the luscious silhouetted curves of the barely legal woman standing at the doorway.

  Natalia Romano.

  The boss’s only daughter and sole heir of the boss’s empire.

  I protected her since she was a kid. And before this morning at the airport, I never looked at her the wrong way. Not even those years I worked as her personal bodyguard.

  “There’s my gorgeous princess,” Romano greets her. He rises from his chair and walks to the door, guiding her out to the hallway. “Your ears must be ringing. How was your flight?”

  As they disappear down the hall to catch up on her vacation, I give myself a warning, a reminder, a mantra that’s worth repeating.

  She’s forbidden fruit.

  The boss’s daughter.

  His princess.

  That means she’s off limits.

  8

  Natalia

  I hate having to play this charade on my own damn birthday.

  The grand ballroom of our home is festive, and the decor is glitzy with all the gold ribbon streamers strung along the walls and between the room's massive chandeliers. But with so few guests, all this work to decorate it makes the room seem hollow, empty.

  I’m much like the fake palm trees the decorators placed on the terrace and along the outskirts of the grounds outside. They seem warm with the glowing lights woven through their branches, but if you touch one of them, it’s cold.

  A fake.

  Spending the entire dinner party set up in my honor with a bright smile plastered on my face, when all I want to do is bawl my eyes out.

  Or scream.

  Or demand more answers.

  I’m partly to blame, though. Serves me right for poking around in places where I have no business being. I shouldn’t have snuck into Nonna’s room and eavesdropped on her phone calls back home while she wasn’t looking. It was not nice of me. But I don’t regret it.

  I know what’s going on now.

  Well, I know everything that Nonna is aware of. Knowing this family, there's sure to be more, but at least I'm not entirely in the dark about what feels like the end of the world.

  The end of my world.

  It’s not often that I see Nonna like this. Emotionally frayed and scared behind her own mask of joyfulness. But she is, and it’s no stretch that it’s because the man we all answer to is going to cut off the Romanos for one relative’s disobedience. The last thing she would want at a time like this is to leave home. We just got back here. But if she’s sold on going into hiding somewhere out of the country where our people can’t get to us, it must be bad.

  And the worst part is that so much is going to change.

  We’re leaving some people behind.

  People like Antonio.

  I don’t know how he must feel about it all. Does he realize that by becoming the acting boss while Father is away, there’ll also be a target on his back?

  I understand now why they were all keeping this devastating news from me. I can’t focus on my birthday. It seems so inconsequential, the idea of entertaining guests and acting like it’s the best day ever when I’m not enjoying myself. There’s no point celebrating to be surrounded by people we can’t say a word to. I’ve never been that convincing of a liar. Sure, I can be poised and polite if needed. This situation, however, is extreme. My closest friends and family have gathered in our ballroom. All evening long, they’ve been complimenting me on the shimmering backless, designer Armani dress I have on. Some guests comment on how much they love my hairdo or shoes, or how lovely a woman I’m growing up to become, or how much I look like my mother, or how proud they are that I’ll be attending Princeton once college starts next week.

  All I have are questions for Father. And I deserve answers for every last one of them.

  Where are we going?

  For how long?

  Who else is going with us?

  Does this mean I won’t be at Princeton this fall as planned? And if not, when?

  How safe will we be wherever it is that we’re going?

  How much stuff can I take?

  Is this really temporary, or are we cut off for life?

  Will Father and Nonna be with me, or are we splitting up for a while?

  If Antonio isn’t going, can I at least keep in touch?

  Will he and his brothers join us eventually? If not, why?

  Will we all survive this disaster?

  Because that’s what it is. A fucking tragedy.

  It took all my will not to stab my fork into the tabletop beside my plate as I sat beside Father at the dinner table, listening to him give his speech about the woman I'm becoming and the life in store for us. It's all a fucking lie, and every single one of the guests ate it up like the eight-course meal the caterers served. As if his words were good, and true, and full of hope.

  After his speech, I was hoping he would excuse himself for a while. That would’ve at least given me a minute alone with him.

  That would've given me an opening, a reason to burst into his office, or bedroom, or smoking room, and fire off one question after the other. I'm not supposed to know, but I deserve to. Except it's better for everyone if I leave things as is, and act like I have no clue what's going on until Father chooses to tell me. He fucking hates leaks.

  There’s only one upside of our lives being turned upside down because of this family drama with the big boss. After they sing happy birthday to me, raise their glasses in a toast, and have a taste of the birthday cake, Father cuts the evening short and wraps up the party early. There’s no opening of presents, no dancing, no extended drinking, no live bands or any milling around tonight.

  After the last guest leaves, I return to my room and change out of my ball gown into a strappy camisole, a black zippered hoodie, and matching sweatpants. I try to decide what I'll take with me but fail miserably. How am I supposed to pack my entire life into a few suitcases? How am I supposed to choose?

  I wait up in my room for at least a couple of hours, and even then, no one comes to enlighten me on where things stand.

  Not Nonna.

  Not Father.

  Not Antonio.

  When midnight rolls around, I slip on a pair of canvas sneakers and walk to my bedroom door.

  I’m sure I’m letting my poor judgment get the better of me, but right now, I don’t care.

  “We’re going for a walk,” I announce to Vinny as he guards my door from the hallway. “Where to?” he asks.

  “Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t know the answer to before they happen,” I say in a clipped tone without looking back at him.

  Vinny does what he’s supposed to, following me. As we reach the side entrance that leads to the building now used as the guards’ sleeping quarters, he takes a couple of quick steps and moves ahead of me to block my path.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

  “I’m talking a walk,” I tell him.

  “You’re not supposed to be there.”

  “It’s a long walk,” I offer.

  "Where to?" His tone is measured, but I see his objection in his green eyes as he tries to stop me with a hard stare. I can shoot him down by pulling rank and reminding him of his place, but I know he means well. As we stand there, facing off, giving each other a nonverbal challenge, I notice he's still in the su
it he wore to the party, which means he hasn't been relieved for the evening yet.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I told you I’m going for a long walk.”

  “I’m not stupid,” he grunts, folding his big arms across his chest.

  “Never said you were,” I say, and push past him. It’s none of his damn business.

  I’ve taken this path a thousand times, but never to the destination I have in mind tonight. It’s an unwritten rule that the staff quarters are just for staff. It was built to keep workers on-site but with their own dedicated space to relax during their downtime. But none of that matters tonight as I walk toward the building designed like a one-story motel. I walk briskly along the well-lit concrete walkway covered by a stone roof gable that stretches the entire length. I pass one door after another, each one a private access to a small, furnished staff suite with its own bathroom.

  I don’t need to look back and see Vinny’s pretty, brooding face. He’s there, his massive frame looming as he follows close behind me like a damn shadow.

  When we reach the door to Antonio’s suite, I turn to Vinny and tap a finger on his upper chest a few times. “You’re going to your room to change out of this awful suit now… and take as much time as you need.”

  “You’re asking for trouble, going in there,” he warns me.

  “That’s none of your concern,” I say, dismissing him.

  He can judge me all he wants to. If I only have a few days before I leave everything behind, the least I can do is spend it the way I want to.

  I can’t afford to waste another second.

  Before I can lift my arm to knock, Antonio’s door opens, and my breath seizes.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” he barks in that deep baritone voice that vibrates through me.

  I can’t move a muscle. I can’t say a word. Only my eyes lift from his chest that almost fills the width of the door. Grazing my eyes up, I take in his bare torso, beaded with water droplets from what must be a recent shower. I skim past his strong shoulders, past his rugged jawline, and meet his dangerously sexy eyes.

  Except they’re not dangerous now. They’re brimming over with the same emotion I saw at the airport.

  Lust.

  Exactly what I was hoping for. Exactly what I need.

  Taking a breath, I summon all the courage I can find, preparing to bare my soul to the man I’ve always wanted.

  9

  Antonio

  “I know I shouldn’t be here. But I don’t care. Not anymore,” she whispers up to me, her tone intense but meek. “I only care about you. About us. This is where I belong. With you. Nothing else matters to me.”

  She can see how hard I’m fighting this thing between us. She knows how wrong is it for us to make another move. We both understand how much hell will come down on us both if I give in.

  Maybe she wants a bit of trouble. After all, she’s been a good girl all her life. I would know. I’ve been around her family since I was in my late teens. I watched over her while she played with her toys around my little brothers. I kept her safe as a shy teen, and I always saw her a kid. Then this summer she went on a trip to Italy with her nonna and returned a woman, with curves that I had no business noticing. And on this same night, on her eighteenth birthday, she comes from left field and makes it clear to me that she’s old enough for me now.

  "Your father already made a commitment for you to be with someone else," I remind her, and my blood runs hotter than hell in no time. I shouldn't even mention that undeserving little prick. I've never met him, but I know enough. Just the idea that one day the boss might force her to marry that useless asshole drives me close to madness. This is how love works in this famiglia. I've heard stories, and the living proof of it is right before me in this bed, and in that house, and all over this very situation that threatens to drive us all apart. The boss's marriage was arranged. As was Nonna Romano's marriage to her husband. And probably before her too. Crime families do this to augment their power and expand their territory. Love comes with time. That’s what Nonna Romano tells Natalia over and over. This is how the famiglia has always been, but I don’t have to like it.

  “That will never happen. Not anymore. I’m yours.”

  I see the same resolve in her eyes as I always have.

  And something else.

  Longing.

  I need to watch myself with this girl. She's barely out of high school, barely an adult compared to my being thirty, years younger than my younger brothers, who I still see as kids. She's not just practically jailbait. She's completely off limits. Her dad isn't only my employer. He's a mob boss. And his daughter, the mafia princess, is under my care. It’s my job to protect everyone in Romano’s family, including this seductress who’s found her way to my suite.

  And if I dare touch her naked virgin body, there’ll be hell to pay.

  I search her face, and she remains locked onto my gaze, hiding nothing, bold as fuck. Looking down her body, I see a slight imprint of the bra and panties she wore under that designer dress she had on tonight, the one teased me with all her curves on full display, causing me to swallow hard every fucking time I saw her across the room, or opposite me at the dinner table for that eight-course meal they planned for her.

  I ate the food put in front of me tonight, but all I thought about was tasting her.

  Sweet Natalia.

  Forbidden fruit.

  And now, she’s here, tempting and innocent, yet inviting. I breathe in her scent and groan aloud. She smells like vanilla and honeysuckle. Sweet and pure and feminine. There’s barely any light in the room with the blinds closed and the curtains drawn, but I can see enough. Her creamy skin, those long, dark locks I’ve dreamed of wrapping around my fist as I take her. She must have a good idea what I’m thinking, because she moves closer to me and cranes her neck up, showing me more of her. A narrow band of light from one of the floodlights installed at the edge of the property streams in through a gap between the curtains, falling on one side of her torso and hips.

  Curves.

  Lines.

  Perfect skin.

  And enough meat on her body to grab hold of, just the way I like a woman.

  Part of me wants to wait, to stare at the feast before me, to devour her with my eyes for a while longer.

  But I can’t.

  Won’t.

  I have less than three days with this woman, and then she’ll be gone for who knows how long. I’ve wasted too much time playing it safe. I’ve ignored the need building inside of me for too much time, and now it’s grown into an insatiable beast, ready to ravish her until there’s nothing left.

  I won't wait for a second more.

  Fuck responsibility.

  Screw loyalty.

  To hell with rules.

  I’m ready to claim the woman who’s always been mine.

  She glides over to my bed and slips under the sheets, and I see another side of her. Confidence. Strength. Power, as she lifts the side of the covers closer to me and pats the bed beside her, inviting me to join her under the sheets. I grip the edge of the cotton and drag it away to her surprise.

  Nothing and no one is coming between us tonight. Not even the sheets.

  Her head tilts up to me, but she doesn’t move to hide her body.

  “That’s right. Let me see you, beautiful,” I groan. “All of you.”

  "I… all right. For you." A shy smile lifts her lips and reaches her eyes, the way they always do for me. And she eases her thighs apart, revealing her bare mound, and slick pink pussy. My mouth starts to water, my balls go tight, and my stiff cock hardens even more under all the clothes left on me. One by one, I remove them. My briefs, slacks and dress shoes go down in one rough shove to the floor.

  This woman may be an innocent virgin, but she knows how to hold my attention.

  She can bring any man to his knees.

  But I plan to possess her. To own her and stake my permanent claim on her when I bury into her and plant my seed d
eep in her womb.

  It’s fucking wrong of me to think like this.

  But it feels so fucking right.

  She’s leaving soon.

  Too soon.

  At a time I’m finally coming around to the idea that she belongs with me.

  Beside me.

  It can’t be all wrong to want to send her off with a little piece of me.

  Straightening up again, I rest one hand on my hip and wrap the other around my thick shaft. A few strokes from base to tip tells me how fucking much my cock wants her. It’s dripping wet at the tip from all the pre-cum. I smile a little as I catch her with her eyes glued to my midsection, mouth parted. There’s a look of awe on her face, and maybe a little fear. I’m not surprised. It’s probably not just the size of my dick that she’s scared of. It’s more likely that she’s afraid of how painful it’ll be. Well, I plan to make her first time the most enjoyable night she’s ever had.

  Starting now.

  Very soon, I’ll be deep within her.

  Buried to the hilt the way my tongue will invade her mouth.

  Her warm, tight pussy will wrap around me the way my arms will envelop her tiny frame.

  Soon we’ll be one.

  And although this won’t last forever, I’ll make sure that by the end of this night, she’ll only have one man in her thoughts.

  Me.

  I know it’s selfish, but I’m past the point of caring.

  Natalia is mine.

  No ocean, continent, or physical distance between us can ever change that.

  “I hope you realize what this all means,” I groan, stroking my big, meaty dick some more. I see the faint nod she makes, but it’s not enough. I need to hear her. “Do you?”

  "Yes. It means I belong to you. I always have. I always will," she breathes out, and the motion of her chest pulls me in. Those breasts, so perky and pink. She's aroused, and I love that it's all for me.

  I forget about everything else.

  Where we are.

  Who’s around.

  What’s coming for us.

  None of that exists in this little bubble. There's only her and me.