Marrying Her Mafioso

by Terri Anne Browning

  Copyright © Terri Anne Browning/Anna Henson 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Terri Anne Browning, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

  Marrying Her Mafioso

  Written by Terri Anne Browning

  All Rights Reserved ©Terri Anne Browning 2018

  Cover Design and Photo by Sara Eirew

  Edited by Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  Formatting by M.L. Pahl of IndieVention Designs

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  Marrying Her Mafioso is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including storage or retrieval systems, without the express permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Allegra

  I sat quietly at the breakfast table, trying to make myself as small as possible as Papa sat across from me. His anger was almost a physical entity as he glared daggers into Zio Vito. I didn’t know why Papa was so angry at his brother, but the bitter flavor of my own fear of what he might do made it impossible to taste anything else. The ache from the bruises that throbbed on my back only made me all the more aware of just how violent his rage could be.

  “Allegra?”

  I lifted my head from where I was staring sightlessly into my coffee mug to find Zio Vito gazing at me with concern. “Yes?” I asked in a tiny voice.

  “I asked if you could spare a few minutes for me later, cara.”

  I swallowed hard and gave him a timid smile as my eyes skimmed over him. Zio Vito and Papa barely looked like brothers. They had the same brown eyes as their mother but were as different as night and day. In every aspect, not just looks. My uncle was more handsome, even charming at times. Power radiated off him to the point I could almost touch it when he was close enough. People respected him and always did his bidding without a second thought.

  And he treated his daughters like the most precious gift God had ever given him.

  The ache in my back was a silent reminder that Papa was nothing like my beloved uncle.

  “Of course, Zio,” I assured him with a genuine smile. “I always have time for you.”

  Papa growled something under his breath, but I had years of practice to help mask my fear of him. No one, not even Nona, suspected I was afraid of the man who was my father. To them, I was just the meek, obedient daughter who never went against him. My fingers didn’t show the slightest tremble as I lifted my now lukewarm coffee to my lips and took a small sip.

  “Good morning, everyone!” Victoria bounced into the room, looking as beautiful as ever.

  Zio Vito’s face changed as his youngest daughter appeared. “You seem in better spirits today, tesoro,” he murmured as she dropped a kiss on his cheek.

  Something dark flashed in her eyes, but she quickly masked it as she took the seat beside me. “Scarlett’s getting married, Papa. Of course I’m happy.”

  “I’m sure you girls have lots to do today to prepare for the big day. Make sure you keep your security close at all times,” he reminded her as he pushed his now empty breakfast plate away and stood. “No running off on them, Victoria.”

  “Would I do something like that?”

  His lips twisted. “I have ulcers as proof that you have and will.”

  “Poor Papa,” she teased. “You have my promise I won’t run off today. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic,” he muttered drily before his eyes landed on me. “Make sure to come see me before you leave. What I have to ask you won’t take long.”

  I nodded, promising I wouldn’t forget. As he left the room, Victoria’s mood seemed to change. Gone was the smile she had put on her beautiful face for her father. In its place was a sadness that made my soul ache for her. I discreetly touched her hand under the table, letting her know without words that I was there for her if she wanted to talk.

  Turning her hand over, she clasped mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “Allegra.” Papa’s voice had me pulling my hand free and my head snapping up to meet his gaze before quickly lowering my eyes.

  “Yes, Papa?”

  “Tell Vito no,” he commanded and angrily got to his feet. “I mean it. Tell him no.”

  Stunned and confused, I cautiously watched my father leave the room. Obviously, Papa knew what his brother was going to speak to me about, and he expected me to tell my uncle no. I didn’t understand what was going on, but knew I had to do as Papa wanted or face his wrath later.

  “What was that about?” Victoria asked with a frown as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “I have no clue.” Swallowing the rest of my own coffee, I stood. “Let me go see what Zio wants, and then we can go. Nona and Ciro’s mother left here about an hour ago, so it’s just the two of us meeting Scarlett and Anya.”

  “Perfect. I wasn’t looking forward to another billion questions from Nona this morning anyway.”

  Giving her an understanding grimace, I hurried to Zio Vito’s office. My hands shook as I lifted my fist to knock on the door. When I heard the terse, “Come in,” I took several deep breaths and prepared myself for whatever was about to follow.

  I doubted few people ever told my uncle no. And those who did most likely lived to regret it. But that was exactly what I was prepared to do. I would rather face Zio Vito’s rage than my father’s.

  Opening the door, I stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind me.

  “You didn’t have to rush,” he said with a kind smile as I crossed the room to stand in front of his large desk. “I know how you girls like to keep me waiting.”

  “I wanted to see you before Victoria and I left for the day just in case it was important.”

  “Well then, thank you for not making me wait until tonight.” His handsome face turned serious, and he lifted a hand to indicate the two chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Allegra. I’d like to discuss something with you.”

  Heart pounding, I sat and folded my hands in my lap. He stood and came around the desk to lean back against it, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched me closely. “It has always been my wish to join the Vitucci and De Stefano families.”

  My racing heart nearly stopped at the mention of his last name. My hands became clammy with nervousness, and I could feel the pink as a bright blush filled my cheeks. That was all it took to get a reaction out of me whenever Dante was mentioned, even in the smallest of ways.

  “Ever since my girls were born, I had this idea of Dante marrying one of them.” My heart instantly sank into my stomach. If Scarlett was marrying Ciro Donati, then that meant Zio
wanted Victoria to marry Dante.

  “So you want me to convince Victoria to marry him?” I asked in a small voice, hating how it cracked, but it only matched my heart right then. How would I be able to withstand seeing Dante with my cousin? How could my heart still beat when I knew he would be holding her at night?

  Amusement sparkled in my uncle’s eyes. “No, cara. I wouldn’t dare ask you to do that. Those two are only friends. Victoria told me it would be like marrying her brother, and Dante has no wish to marry either of my daughters.”

  Confusion wrinkled my brow as relief filled my chest. “I don’t understand what you want of me, Zio.”

  “Dante has asked to marry you.”

  Joy flickered in my veins—but only for a nanosecond before what my father had commanded squashed it dead. Now I understood completely. No wonder Papa had been so adamant about me telling Zio Vito no. He hated Dante and anyone else with the last name De Stefano. Dante’s father and Papa had been rivals for the same woman long before I was born.

  My mother.

  I’d heard the stories, the rumors, and whispers.

  My mother was Dante’s nanny and had fallen madly in love with Arlo De Stefano, who had become a single father not long after the birth of his son. But Papa stole her away to Sicily, married her, and shortly thereafter, she gave birth to me. One of the nastier rumors was that Papa had raped my mother, getting her pregnant with me, and then married her to keep her away from Arlo. The man he hated more than he could ever love anyone.

  Knowing what I knew, I could believe that particular rumor even though I tried not to think about it. I hated the idea that I could be the product of my mother’s rape. That I hadn’t come from love. But all the facts pointed to that being more of a reality than just cruel gossip.

  “You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Zio rushed to assure me when I’d taken too long to respond. “I didn’t expect you to say yes right away. I want you to take some time and think about this, cara. It’s a big decision to make, especially when you don’t know the boy that well.”

  That was where he was wrong. I knew a lot about Dante. In the three years that Scarlett and Victoria lived with us in Sicily, Dante had been a regular visitor to our compound there. He used his friendship with the twins to drop in whenever the urge arose. During that time, we had gotten to know each other, and the crush I’d once had on the sexy mafioso had turned into something scary and dangerous. Something I knew would be the end of me if my father ever discovered my feelings toward a De Stefano.

  “Papa…” I started and blew out a tired sigh. “He wants me to tell you no, Zio.”

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. Vito Vitucci was still a good-looking man and in decent physical condition, with the exception of a thicker waistline. “I don’t really care what your father wants, Allegra. This has nothing to do with him. What I want to know is how you would feel marrying Dante.”

  I couldn’t voice my feelings on that particular topic. Not without giving everything away, not without Papa finding out and destroying me just as he did my mother.

  “I can see you need to give this some serious thought,” Zio went on when I remained silent. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going to rush you. But I want you to understand this is what Dante wants, and I’ve never known the boy not to get what he wants.”

  Chapter 1

  Dante

  Four months later

  It was dark as I reluctantly left the compound. Leaving now was the last thing I wanted to do, but Vito wasn’t going to allow me to stay there, tonight of all nights. His mother had been harping on and on about how the groom couldn’t see the bride before the wedding, and I’d just wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up. As on edge as I already was, it had taken greater strength than I even knew I possessed to refrain from doing so. If I wanted to marry his niece come morning, I knew I had to leave for the night.

  It had taken longer than expected to convince Allegra to marry me. I’d assumed she would say yes immediately and then I could take her back to Chicago with me within a week’s time. Instead, she’d made me work for my yes, and between trying to convince her I was the man she needed and fucking Santino issues pulling me back and forth from one state to another, three and a half months had passed before I’d gotten what I wanted.

  Not that I could blame Allegra. After the hell she’d lived for all those years with her father, I could understand her reluctance to put her faith in anyone else. But I’d made promises, and I was going to keep every damn one of them.

  No matter who I had to kill to achieve them.

  Cristiano was already seated in the back of the limo as I climbed in beside him. The door shut behind me just as my old friend handed over a tumbler full of amber liquor. I took it thankfully and swallowed all the contents without actually tasting the expensive whiskey. I needed the burn that washed down my throat and into my gut to ground me, because I was seconds away from saying fuck it all and going back inside the mansion for Allegra.

  How could I leave her, even for one night, with that evil bastard just down the hall from her?

  “One more night,” I gritted out.

  “You telling me or yourself?” Cristiano asked with lifted brows, taking a considerably smaller swallow from his own glass.

  “Fuck if I know,” I muttered and leaned forward to snatch the bottle of well-aged whiskey off the little bar to fill my glass once again.

  “Whoa, easy there, fratello,” he cautioned. “You don’t want to show up to your wedding tomorrow with a hangover.”

  I glared at him over the rim of my tumbler, downing the contents like it was nothing more than water. Normally, I was the cold one, the stoic bastard who didn’t show a single emotion, while inside it was complete and total chaos. I didn’t have the luxury of letting it all out, however. There were too many people who could get hurt if I allowed myself to falter and release everything that was pent up inside me.

  Tonight, however, I was a weak man. I had only one more night until Allegra was completely mine, in every sense of the word. One more sleep and then she would be sleeping in my arms, and I’d never have to worry if she was safe or scared or hurting at the hands of a monster who should only ever have protected her. My patience was running thin, and I needed something to calm me. Once the glass was empty again, I poured more into it. “Fuck off, man. If I don’t drink this shit, I’m going to go back and steal my bride away.”

  The other man smirked. “Don’t worry so much. My little cousin adores you. She’s going to show up on time for your wedding.”

  Her not showing up wasn’t what I was worried about. But I didn’t tell that to my friend. If he didn’t already know what was going on with Allegra and her rat bastard of a father, I wasn’t going to clue him in. Not yet. Maybe not ever since she asked me not to. It was the condition she might arrive in that I worried about. The idea of Gio Vitucci putting his hands on my sweet little Allegra had rage boiling in my veins, and I quickly downed another full glass of whiskey as the limo ate up the distance between the compound and Cristiano’s apartment in the city.

  By the time we reached the building, I was well on my way to being drunk, but the urge to go back for her hadn’t lessened, not even a little.

  As I fell onto the mattress in Cristiano’s guest bedroom, I fished out my phone. There were no messages from her of any kind, and as late as it was, I expected her to be in bed already. Still, my fingers made quick work of typing out a text.

  Tomorrow, you’re mine, and no one will ever dare touch you. Sleep peacefully, Allegra baby.

  I waited, hoping for a reply, but none came. Groaning, I grabbed a pillow and folded it under my head as the full effects of the bottle of whiskey I’d consumed finally caught up to me…

  The next morning, I woke up with a pounding in my head that made it feel like tiny soldiers with grenade launchers were waging war within my brain. I stumbled into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the evidenc
e of my drunken night. Allegra’s grandmother would throw a shit fit if I showed up to the wedding smelling of whiskey. The old bat could kiss my ass for all I cared, but I didn’t want to disappoint Allegra.

  “He lives!” Cristiano laughed at me as I dropped down at the breakfast table where his housekeeper was already setting food in front of him. “Good thing your bride can’t see you right this moment, fratello. She would run in fright all the way back to Sicily.”

  “Fuck off, Cristiano,” I growled, flipping him off.

  The stout little woman pushed a Bloody Mary into my hands along with two aspirin before putting a plate of food in front of me. “Eat,” she commanded with a glare. “The grease will help.”

  I tossed the two aspirin into my mouth and downed the drink then just sat there, waiting for the contents to hit my already protesting stomach. Once it settled, I picked up a slice of bacon and stuffed it into my mouth, knowing the old woman was right.

  As I forced myself to eat, Cristiano seemed more occupied with his phone than his breakfast. His brow wrinkled as he studied the screen then typed a reply.

  “Problems already?” I muttered.

  “Looks like we have a stop to make before I can get you to the church,” he said with a shrug as he tossed the phone onto the table and picked up his mug of coffee.

  “What the fuck, man?” I was just as impatient today as I had been the night before. Maybe more so. Damn it, all I wanted was to get this shit over with so I could finally fulfill at least one promise I’d made. “We don’t have time for stops. I’m getting married in less than ninety minutes.”

  “Anya said it was urgent. She insists that we have to see her before you get hitched.”

  I raked my hands through my hair, the tension in my gut tightening. “Fucking hell, man. Fine, but first, I have to drop something off at the compound.”

  The drive back to the compound went faster than the one that had taken me away the evening before. I texted Scarlett, and she was waiting outside when the car pulled up in front of the mansion. Already dressed in her bridesmaid dress, her stomach looking fuller from the twins she carried, she took the small jewelry box from me along with the bouquet of flowers.