Taken: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Vanessa Waltz

  Michael leaned forward. “We make an appointment with the doctor, find out how far along you are, and start arguing about baby names.”

  “I’m angry with you, Michael. Don’t forget that. You’re so lucky that my parents are safe and healthy. If anything had happened, I would’ve divorced your ass.”

  “Good luck finding an attorney to take your case,” he quipped, his gaze sliding to the test. “What’s it say?”

  My stomach sank as I read it. Disappointment welled inside me, the bitterness clawing at my throat.

  One line.

  Not pregnant.

  Twenty-Five

  Michael

  I needed Crash dead.

  It was only a matter of time before Carmela got pregnant. Once that happened, I’d never sleep without one eye open. My tireless efforts to find the guy had gone nowhere, so I zipped back to Ignacio’s house. Alessio’s Lexus was still parked in Ignacio’s driveway.

  Good.

  I was due for a talk with my new in-law. Watching them through that window gave me a nasty shock. I trusted my wife, but I couldn’t ignore that they had a history, however brief and loveless.

  My fist bashed the door.

  Ignacio answered in track pants and a knit shirt, nursing a cocktail. He didn’t seem to give a shit that his captor stood on his doorstep.

  “What do you want?”

  “Just a chat.”

  Ignacio grunted in annoyance and backed into his mansion, his insolent gaze sliding from me like I was a pesky stray cat. He didn’t look to see if I followed. He strolled in, beckoning to his wife.

  She beamed at me. “Hi, Michael!”

  Maria had Carmela’s shape, but Mia’s wide-eyed innocence. She kissed my cheeks. Clearly, she had no idea I’d tortured her husband. Ignacio had fed her a bullshit story to explain his disappearance. I was there when he called her. I’d thought he was an idiot for wasting a phone call.

  Now I understood.

  He loved her. He’d do anything to keep her safe, even offer his home to the likes of me. If he hadn’t murdered my brother, I would’ve admired this man. Carmela had inherited his courage. I hoped she’d pass it on to my future sons.

  Ignacio slid an arm around my shoulders and smiled. “Maria, can you bring us something to eat?”

  I waved a no-thanks. “Don’t go through any trouble.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  Maria flitted from the cupboards to the fridge, fetching this and that while her husband steered me into the dining room. She was just like my mom, gracious with guests and pushy with offers of food.

  “What is it?” Ignacio drank, settling in his chair. “Come to break my balls about my other useless son-in-law?”

  “I’m not useless.”

  “What have you done except try to make my life miserable?”

  “I gave you a vacation at my Tuscan villa instead of a permanent one with Jesus.”

  He laughed bitterly.

  “I'm here to talk about Crash.”

  Ignacio’s expression darkened to midnight-black as Maria set down appetizers. “Why?”

  “I want to know everything about him.”

  “Again. Why?”

  “I'm taking care of him.”

  Ignacio snorted. “You expect me to believe that?”

  “I don’t care if you do. That’s what I’m doing.”

  He sank into his wicker-backed chair, offering a vague smile at Maria, who disappeared into the kitchen. “Kill him, and you’ll be my favorite son-in-law. All will be forgiven.”

  “I’m doing this for her, not you. She deserves justice.”

  “Huh.” Ignacio ate from the charcuterie board, smiling. “Maybe you’re not a worthless asshole.”

  “You have a fucking mouth, Naz.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  No shit. “Why is that?”

  “Because you’re all bark.”

  “How many times did I beat you?”

  Ignacio offered me prosciutto, which I declined. “If you wanted me dead, I’d be in a hole. Instead you sent me to Italy to get fat and drunk.”

  Ignacio chuckled, and it engulfed my body in fire. He grasped my wrist and yanked before I stood. “I’m breaking your balls, Mike.”

  “Don’t call me Mike.” That was what my brother called me, and I couldn’t stand it from him. “I’m here to talk about Crash.”

  “I’ll text all the information I have. It’s not much. The PIs I hired got nothing useful, and Carm made me drop them.”

  I could’ve screamed.

  All he had to do was put a tail on Carmela, and they would’ve found Crash months ago. It saddened me to think about how she’d suffered, putting on a brave smile for everyone while that dickhead terrorized her.

  Ignacio raised his brow when I waved off a cornetto.

  “No thanks. I’m not eating here for the next decade.” I gathered my coat. “Let me know if anything else comes to mind.”

  On the way out, Maria accosted me with leftovers. I turned them down five times before she shoved ziti into my hands. The woman was pushy. Alessio’s broad frame slid into the hall. He gave me a meaningful look and gestured outside. We said goodbye to the Riccis. Maria shouted down Alessio’s refusal of ziti. Then we stood in the crisp air, cradling our Tupperware containers.

  Alessio faced me, his stony features hardening. He was like a dark cloud. His gaze shot lightning bolts as though I’d showed him my dick.

  “Are you mad that I married your ex?”

  He was silent for so long that my skin crawled. “I’m pissed that you’re fucking with my family. Carmela deserves better.”

  “I’m better than you.”

  I winked at him and strolled to my car, grinning when his footsteps scraped the pavement behind me.

  “Michael, why did you marry her?”

  “I don’t owe you an explanation.” I laughed when I opened the car door, and he slammed it shut. “What are you going to do? Punch me? You’re not in a position to do anything except what I want, so fuck off.”

  He grabbed my shoulder. “Let her go.”

  “Carmela’s no longer your concern.” I shook from his grasp and dumped the ziti into a curbside trash. “She’s mine.”

  “You forced her into this marriage. She’s been through enough horror.”

  “Whose fault is that?”

  Alessio’s eyes shuttered like blinds on windows. “I never hurt her.”

  “You didn’t care about her. You left her for dead.”

  I was hoping he’d deny it, but Alessio stuck his hand in his hair, which he did whenever he was overwhelmed.

  “You abandoned her with that biker piece of shit.”

  “She wanted to stay with him, Mike.”

  I couldn’t look at him the same ever again, not after falling in love with Carmela. “You left her alone in a clubhouse. What did you think would happen?”

  “I had no idea he was dangerous.”

  “Stop lying.” I shoved his chest, knocking him several steps backward. “You wanted the younger one.”

  “Careful, Mike. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret.”

  “Why, you’ll take off again?”

  He slapped the Tupperware on my car hood. “She doesn’t hold it against me, so why do you?”

  “Because you took a backseat while that nutcase was raping her! He’s become a big problem because you failed to act. Jesus Christ, you’re not the guy I thought you were.”

  “Neither are you. You’ve lost your way.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “You have no clue what the hell you’re talking about.” Alessio raised his chin, sounding dead. “It’s best you don’t come around anymore.”

  A jagged edge cut into me, but I couldn’t forgive Alessio.

  I looked at him and saw a coward.

  Good riddance. “You and I are done, but I’ll be visiting my father-in-law.”

  I flung open the door and sank into the sea
t. Alessio hadn’t moved from his spot. He stared ahead, his features frozen.

  “Watch your toes, asshole.”

  I started the car and drove off. The plastic container flew off the roof and smashed, spilling ziti over the road.

  Fuck him.

  My wife’s psychotic ex prowled the streets because Alessio had dropped the ball. He should’ve ended Crash’s life. Instead he ran off with the sister and claimed it was love. Unbelievable.

  My phone rang as I approached our driveway. “Yeah?”

  Vinn’s frantic voice boomed through the speaker. “Anthony’s been kidnapped.”

  Twenty-Six

  Michael

  He was taken while he walked his dog. They found his Husky rolled in a ditch, dead with a single gunshot wound. Anthony had dismissed his bodyguards. All they’d had to do was grab him.

  Tubs of white-wrapped sweets packed the candy store’s stockroom, which we used for meetings. I stuck my hand in a tin container and grabbed a few, tearing off the paper. Rich sugar coated my tongue.

  Vinn sat at the table, his skin drained of color, his eyes listless. His pitch-black gazed flicked at me, his irises so dark they blended with his pupils.

  “We’re so fucked, Mike.”

  It wasn’t like him to panic. “We can’t dwell on the consequences.”

  “Uncle Nico will kill us. His son! His only fucking son was kidnapped under my watch.”

  “Yeah, it’s bad.”

  “We’re finished.” Vinn kicked his chair aside, raging. “I will not die for that junkie!”

  It was lucky I’d sent everyone out of the room.

  Vinn seized the desk and hurled it into a rack. Saltwater taffy spilled over the floor. He unsheathed his Ka-Bar knife and shanked the cushion until stuffing poured from the gashes, and then he threw the chair at another rack, knocking tins off shelves in a massive, noisy crash.

  “It’ll be all right, buddy.”

  “No, it won’t.” He whirled at me, still holding the knife. “How are you so calm?”

  “We’re getting Anthony back.”

  Hope flashed across Vinn’s face before it died in a nasty wreck. “Whoever did this is carving out Anthony’s heart as we speak.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re way too optimistic.”

  “They killed Comet. Why not shoot Anthony, too?” I unwrapped a candy and popped it into my mouth. “If it was a hit, they wouldn’t have dragged him off.”

  “Why haven’t they contacted us with their demands?”

  “They will. Trust me. Do we have any witnesses?”

  “Just one.” Vinn rubbed his forehead. “His neighbor said they were all dressed in black. They rolled up in an SUV. Shot the dog. Grabbed him. Gone.”

  “Where the hell were his bodyguards?” Alessio pushed off the walls and unfolded his arms. “Or did you retards screw that up, too?”

  I scrolled through my cell, checking for missed calls. “The dipshit dismisses them all the time.”

  Alessio raked his ebony mane, swearing. “I’ll contact Judge Gilstrap and pull the camera footage from his street. Somebody will have to tell Nico.”

  Nobody wanted that job.

  Alessio’s hand wavered as he thumbed through his list of contacts.

  Vinn grimaced. “I’ll call him.”

  “No. Let me handle him.” Alessio heaved a sigh. “He’ll take it better coming from me, but we should have information for him besides ‘your son was taken, and we have no idea where he is.’”

  “We should lay low for a while. Check into a hotel and keep changing rooms.” I needed to get the kids, fuck. “I’ll call our people in prison. Nico will need more muscle.”

  A fist hammered the door, and Alessio let Vitale inside. He approached me, unlocking his phone. “We have a situation.”

  A gruesome image flashed on the screen. A nude woman curled on grass, blades tangled with her lengthy, black hair. Ligature marks wrapped her wrists and neck. Her glassy eyes stared skyward.

  Elena.

  A Sanctum girl, and the happiest hooker I’d ever met. She baked everyone cookies on Christmas. We’d fooled around a couple of times. Elena was one of the few girls that didn’t latch on like a barnacle. She was nice.

  Now she was dead.

  I glanced at her abdomen. A dagger stuck from her ribs, with a note.

  I HAVE YOUR PRINCE

  GIVE HER BACK

  The air vanished from my chest.

  “They found her in Sanctum’s parking lot.” Vitale swiped his thumb, displaying additional views of the corpse. “We took care of her.”

  Vinn shuffled to my side. “I’m assuming you understand what the hell this means.”

  Sick fuck. “Yeah. It’s a message for me, from Crash.”

  A tinkling of glass drew my attention to Alessio, who’d dropped his cell. The screen had splintered into shards.

  “He wants my wife,” I explained, facing Vinn. “He must’ve abducted Anthony hoping for an exchange. The takeaway here is Anthony is alive.”

  Vinn zoomed in on the photograph. “We need to bait a trap.”

  My throat tightened. “I’m not involving Carmela.”

  “I’m not suggesting that.” Vinn gestured at Alessio, who glowered at him. “We send an email from Carmela to the psycho.”

  “It might work,” Alessio muttered. “He’s off his rocker.”

  “But not stupid.” I shook my head. “We’ll search for Rage Machine’s clubhouse. We’ll triple the reward for information. We won’t involve my goddamned wife.”

  “What if we just—”

  “No. She can’t find out about this.” My gaze wheeled from Alessio to Vinn. “We are not bringing Carmela into this.”

  “I agree. Family’s off-limits,” Alessio murmured with a hint of a sneer. “I’ll take care of what we discussed.”

  He left, the door banging shut.

  “Anthony will never survive this.” Vinn’s vacant stare swept over the mess. “Even if we get him out, he’ll never be the same.”

  Too fucking bad.

  I would keep her safe. Even if it meant Anthony had to be the sacrifice.

  Twenty-Seven

  Carmela

  Matteo ran laps around the coffee table.

  I stumbled as he crashed into my knees, upsetting the plate filled with cucumber and salami sandwiches. I groaned as one slipped off the edge and slapped the floor.

  I sank into the L-shaped steel-blue couch as Matteo zoomed the living room. “Teo, settle down.”

  “No!”

  I cleaned up the mess and passed the snacks to Mariette, who glowered at Matteo. “Honey, we’re not watching the film until you sit.”

  Matteo bumped into the table, knocking over the popcorn.

  Mariette scowled at him. “You’re such a butthead.”

  “Your face is a butt!” he shrieked, his eyes welling with tears.

  White rained on Matteo’s head as she hurled fistfuls from the bowl. He launched. They tussled, Mariette subduing Matteo in a headlock.

  I tossed a pillow at them. “Mariette.”

  She released Matteo, who dug into the cushions for spilled kernels and stuffed them in his mouth.

  I grabbed his hand. “Teo, don’t eat couch popcorn.”

  “Put on the movie!” Mariette roared, bouncing on the cushion. “Is Daddy coming?”

  “Not sure.” I frowned, glancing in the office’s direction. “I’ll get him. Mariette, watch your brother.”

  I’d seen very little of Michael. When he was home, he shut himself in the office all day. He refused meals. He stared into space, jaw locked in a tension that kept growing.

  My life would never be perfect.

  It hit me at Mia’s place when Anthony Costa’s toothy grin flashed across the evening news. His disappearance had consumed our husbands’ lives; they’d temporarily put aside their feud to work together. Michael had deflected Anthony’s kidnapping like he did all Costa business. Ever
ything was under control.

  Nothing ever was.

  I’d grown up surrounded by violence. Mia and I had attended so many burials that we were on a first-name basis with funeral directors. My father shot a man in the back of the head in our backyard. Why did I think I could have two kids and a loving, supportive husband who was not homicidal?

  I grabbed a sandwich and entered a room with white floorboards and concrete walls. A built-in bookshelf took up the left side. His desk sat in the middle.

  Michael lounged in a leather chair, wearing a black sleeveless button-up over dark jeans. I’d never seen him in denim. It suited him. The way the pants clung to his thighs pricked my chest with heat. His suits slimmed him, but these made him look like a soccer player.

  I knocked on the door. “It’s movie night. The children are asking for you.”

  “Start without me.”

  His tone made me pause. Lately, he’d sounded so heavy. It was as though he exhaled lead. He frowned at the desk. His beard was overgrown.

  “Brought you a snack.” I slid the plate over the desk.

  His lips tugged into a brief smile. “Thanks.”

  Michael barely glanced at it, which raised my alarm bells.

  I took his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  He peeked at my hand, and then my face. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

  “Because when guys refuse food, it’s because the world is on fire.”

  “Not all men are the same.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Thinking about Anthony.” Michael played with the sandwich. He grabbed a bite and set it down.

  “Do you have any leads?”

  “Not really.”

  I didn’t know Anthony well, but I hoped he was all right. He’d seemed troubled but harmless. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Nah.”

  “You seem upset.”

  “I’m worried, but otherwise I’m great. I’m content with my life.” He pulled my wrist, reeling me closer. “Aren’t you?”

  That was a complicated question.

  “Not while bosses’ sons are being kidnapped.”