I don’t show my feelings, not an ounce of weakness. She won’t get that from me, not anymore. She had it once and she shit on it, so never again.
There’s a knock on the door and I clear my throat before I lift my chin toward Nicola. “Open it for them,” I instruct.
She narrows her gaze on me but doesn’t question my order. Instead, she stands to her feet and smooths down her sexy as sin skirt before her high-heeled shoes carry her over to the door. I watch as she opens it and stands to the side. Her head immediately tips and her gaze is downcast.
I hate that shit.
She’s a goddamn principessa, she should always hold her head up high.
I hate that shit, too.
The fact that I think she deserves any respect for her station. She doesn’t. I need to get that shit outta my head, immediately.
“Have a seat,” I bark. “Nicola, behind me.”
I don’t look at the men, my gaze is focused on her and her alone. Her entire body jerks and she slowly lifts her head, turning to look back at me over her shoulder. I watch as she licks those puffy lips, then nods once.
She slowly closes the door, then woodenly makes her way toward me, slipping behind me. Placing my elbow on the arm of the chair, I open my palm. “Next to me,” I murmur.
Her cool fingers hesitantly slip into mine before I gently tug her to my side. I don’t want her moving around behind me. I need to be able to see her reaction to what is going to happen here.
“You’re all here because your Boss is dead, as is the next in line, his son,” I announce.
None of them look particularly shook up about the news I’ve just delivered, they all stare at me stoically.
“I was sent by Gavino Santoro to take control over the Ricci famiglia. I am your new boss until another is appointed permanently. Is this going to be a problem for anyone in this room?” I ask as my gaze scans the men, looking for their reactions.
They all stare blank-faced, completely expressionless as they watch me, waiting for me to tell them more. I want to know if they’ll follow me or if they need to die. I could give a fuck about anything else, other than who fucked Nicola.
“Which of you have paid to, or were given in a quid pro quo deal, access to fuck Nicola Ricci?” I ask.
My fingers are still wrapped around hers and they tighten when she tries to pull out of my grasp.
This question garners a reaction.
Three of the five shift uncomfortably in their seats. “Benny,” she hisses.
“Silenzio,” I bark.
She freezes at my harsh tone. She should. I hope she’s fucking scared. If she isn’t yet, she will be. She’ll learn that I’m not the same man that I was two years ago. I’ve changed. I’m fucking jaded and I’m goddamn ruthless.
NICOLA
I pinch my eyes closed. I’m embarrassed and angry. Not just at Benicio, but with my father as well. Benny is right. I’m a zoccola. I’m the whore that my father turned me into. I shouldn’t be ashamed of something that I had no hand in, or control over, but I am.
I’m embarrassed that Benicio sees me as nothing but a prostitute. Just like that’s all I was to my father, he sees me in the same light and my already cracked, battered, and bruised heart shatters just a little bit more.
“Perks of being a Capo, Boss,” one of the men says with a chuckle.
The other four laugh softly, and I can feel my face heat at the words. I remember him, the man who just spoke. I don’t remember his name, but he fucked me right here in my father’s office. He bent me over this desk and told me that it was his right, his due, for putting up with my father and his crazy shit.
“Nicola,” Benicio grunts.
My head jerks and I look down at him. His jaw is clenched, I can see the muscle in his cheek jump and I wonder what the fuck I did now to earn even more of his anger. I’m just standing here, being the good whore that he asked me to be.
“Did you want any of them?” he asks, keeping his voice so soft that I know, unless they strained really hard, none of the men heard him.
I debate telling him a lie. I could spin my life the way that I was always taught to. From a small child I was told, when asked, to always say that I enjoyed everything. Every caress, every poke and prod. Everything. Either that or suffer a beating from my father.
Then I remember that my father isn’t around anymore and I don’t have to lie. I don’t have to manipulate and pretend. I don’t have to be perfect anymore. I can finally tell the truth, well I could. I’m not going to, not fully anyway.
I’m not going to tell him that he is the only man I’ve ever been with that I actually wanted.
“Never,” I admit.
He nods once, then releases his hold on my hand. He does something with his other hand, but I’m too focused on his fingers and the way they’re just resting against the arm of the chair, long and commanding, to pay attention.
I lick my lips, just before a loud noise ricochets throughout the room, three times. I yelp, lifting my gaze.
Across from me, three men sit in chairs, their heads either backward or slumped down. Blood sprays the wall behind them and the other men sitting next to them.
Everyone who is still breathing, and those that aren’t, are silent and frozen. Benicio slowly stands to his feet. My breath hitches when I feel his hand slide around my hip and he tugs me against his side.
“Let this be a warning, a lesson, and advice. You can spread this around as you see fit, that is, if you leave this room breathing. Nicola Ricci is no longer available for any service at all whatsoever. She’s mine now. My possession to use as I see fit.”
He squeezes my hip, but I don’t feel it, my eyes are too busy scanning the room. The two men that are left breathing, I don’t recognize and I gulp, wondering if they’ll make it out of this office to spread that proclamation of Benicio’s.
“Tell me what does your crew run, numbers wise?” Benny asks the first man.
He’s sitting next to a dead one, blood and grey matter are splattered against the side of his face and hanging in chunks, but he makes no move to wipe it off.
He clears his throat, then focuses his gaze on Benny before he starts going over numbers and types of drugs that his crew run.
Honestly, I could use a hit of something, anything really, right about now. My nerves are fucking shot. I don’t listen to what the men say, they’re engaged in a conversation that is not only not my place but also completely confusing to me.
I know that my father’s industry is to distribute drugs, but I don’t know what his volume is. He also owns a lot of buildings and businesses, then collects from them and other places in his area.
“We’ll be getting our supply from the Zanetti famiglia from now on. He will get a cut from every sale as the Don.”
“So, he’s just going to completely change the dynamics of our operations? He’s going to what? Build an empire? No one man needs that much control,” one of the men spits.
Benicio doesn’t hesitate. He lifts his gun and fires again. Yet again, his bullet shoots straight and hits the man in the forehead.
“Do you have any problems with anything we’ve just discussed?” he asks, turning toward the only Capo left breathing in the room.
“No, Boss,” he says, dipping his chin.
“I want every soldier brought to me tomorrow. Do you have a warehouse or restaurant where you usually have meets?” Benicio asks.
It’s my turn to speak. Clearing my throat, I dip my chin to look down at him. “My father has a shed in the back of the estate. It’s where they would hold all their meetings. He didn’t much like leaving the house,” I murmur.
Benicio nods once. “Ten tomorrow night. Every single soldier on the payroll. I don’t give a fuck how low on the totem pole, I want him there.”
“It’s going to be pretty crowded…” he begins.
Benicio shrugs. “Won’t be by the time it’s over.” The man jerks his chin, then slowly stands to his feet. “Cl
ean up the bodies. Call your crew and get it done fast. I’ll be here, so don’t think that you’ll get anything past me.”
Benicio turns to me, lowering his chin and looking directly into my eyes. “Take me somewhere private,” he grunts.
Turning around, I lead the way toward my father’s second favorite room in the house. The billiard room. My father was so over the top and ridiculous. His house is ostentatious and because he was self-important, he thought people gave a fuck about any of it.
Nobody did, not really. And in the end, none of it meant shit because he’s dead, his body who knows where, and I’m here with his replacement who will probably burn everything that he loved and cherished.
I can’t hide the smirk at that thought. I hope that Benicio at least lets me watch as his shit burns.
Chapter Three
BENICIO
I snort at the room that Nicola brings me to. A billiard room. Fuck, what a cliché Mauro was. I watch as she slowly closes the door behind us, locking the deadbolt. Somehow, she knew that we would need complete privacy for this moment. She’s not wrong.
“How many men have you been with?” I all but demand.
Watching her, I smirk as she leans back against the door. Her head lifts up and her eyes meet mine. They’re wide, rounded and almost frightened looking. I don’t blame her, I would be scared shitless if I were in her position.
“Why?” she asks.
I shrug a shoulder. “If I’m going to stick my dick into you, I’d like to know what I’m getting into.”
She narrows her eyes. I watch as she marches toward me. She lifts her hand, palm open and before she can make contact, I catch her wrist. Squeezing her delicate bones, I firmly hold her.
“Don’t ever try that shit again,” I warn. “I won’t just catch your hand next time,” I advise.
“It’s none of your business. Who said I would let you inside of me anyway?” she bravely asks.
Shaking my head once, I lift my lips in a small twitch. Turning my head, I touch my mouth to her palm. I feel her tremble before she catches herself.
Humming, I release her wrist and slide my fingers down her forearm, my eyes never leaving her angry gaze.
“You’ve always been my business, Nicola. Now tell me, or have you lost count?”
“Fuck you,” she spits.
I hum. It’s her I’m going to be fucking, but I don’t say that. Instead, I wait. She lets out a sigh and takes a step back from me, smoothing down her skintight skirt again, a habit of hers, a sexy habit.
She looks every bit the trained cold mafia principessa, but I know that beneath all of that, when her makeup is washed off, when her hair is a tangled mess, that she’s the most stunning woman on earth, one who has the softest heart or at least that’s what she led me to believe once upon a time.
“It’s not as many as you think. Like you, I was given to several men for long periods of time. Also, there hasn’t been a man in eighteen months,” she grinds out.
I blink. She’d said it a while ago, but I didn’t believe it. “Nicola,” I murmur.
She shakes her head. “Don’t. What happened, you have to believe me that I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t have a choice.”
My entire body jerks. “We always have a choice. You could have said something to me. I would have always protected you,” I state.
She shakes her head again. “How? Would you have gone to Rossi? What would he have done? You weren’t a Boss. You weren’t even friends with a Boss. My father was a Boss at that time. Nobody could have protected me against his wrath. He owned me, Benny. If you don’t think that he did, then we will never get past this.”
Closing my eyes, I decide that she’s right. We will never get past this. I flip another deadlock on my heart when it comes to her. For a moment, a split second, I thought that maybe we could have salvaged some part of us. I was wrong.
“How many men?” I spit.
Her face falls. “Fifteen,” she whispers. “And I remember every single moment of every single encounter. I remember my first when I was eight years old and I remember my last, you. I will never forget any moment of any man’s touch. Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make you feel better?”
Clenching my fists at my side, I shake my head, closing my eyes and trying to get the image of her with these men out of my head. I can’t feel sorry for her, I refuse.
This is the woman who manipulated me, who told valuable information in an attempt to betray my boss. I cannot and I will not feel sorry for her because her father abused her.
She knew that she was wrong, and although I was sent to do the same, I never once used her. The minute I took her as my own, I never once sought anything out that I could use to hurt her.
After gathering myself together, I slowly open my eyes to look at her. I keep my expression impassive, as if she doesn’t mean shit to me. When in fact, she means everything—always has.
“I’ll be your last until I’m not anymore.” I shrug. “Any other man touches you and I’ll kill him.”
“Why do you care?” she exhales.
I smirk. “I don’t share my possessions. That’s exactly what you are. I never wanted to be a Boss, and here I am. You’re my fucking prize for having to deal with this shit. Also, your apartment is no longer your fortress. I will have uninhibited access. Do not lock me out, ever.”
“So, you’ll be moving in?” she asks and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a bit of hopefulness in her voice.
I shake my head, laughing softly as I take a step toward her. Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the side of her throat, keeping my gaze connected to her own.
“No. I’ll be gutting your father’s room to use as my own. I’ll have access to yours, and to you, without a lock or closed door between us.”
“You’re an asshole,” she snaps.
I laugh at her observation. “Yeah, I know. Go to bed, I’ll see you later.”
Without another word, I release my hold on her neck and brush past her. I make my way out of the billiard room and check on the lone Capo that I left to clean up the massacre of his brothers.
Disloyal scum and traitors.
I could give a fuck that these Made Men are dead. They can eat shit is what they can do, and soon they’re going to be fertilizer themselves, so it fucking fits.
“What’s your name anyway?” I ask.
He jerks his chin as he tugs on the heavy body of a man that was probably his friend. “I go by Costa. Married, two kids, not looking to die anytime soon,” he announces.
“Good. Keep your head down, stay loyal to the famiglia, do what needs to be done and I don’t foresee there being a problem,” I say.
He pauses, lifting his gaze to meet mine. He has something to say, so I wait for him to gather his courage to say what he needs to get out. He clears his throat, straightening his spine and then he lifts his chin slightly.
“If you’re just going to hurt her, let her come home with me. My wife will take care of her. She deserves better than what she’s had.”
His words are admirable, but it isn’t his place. He’s a Capo, nothing more. I nod my head a couple of times.
“Nice gesture, but no. Nicola isn’t her own person, she belongs to the Ricci famiglia. She belongs to me. It’ll be my decision what lies ahead in her future.”
“So you’ll be putting her to work in Zanetti’s club then?” he asks coolly.
The idea of sending her to that club, to work as a true call girl makes my stomach twist and fills me with rage. Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. I probably need a cut soon, but I have a feeling that will have to wait for a while.
“Doesn’t matter what I do with her. It’s not your concern, Costa. We clear on that?”
He doesn’t hide his anger. His irritation. He jerks his chin. “Crystal.”
Without another word, he turns around and heads back into the office to drag out the next body. A few moments later, a crew appears
and begins to help him clean up.
I advise them to take all of the furniture out of the room. I’ve already emptied the desk drawers and put the contents in boxes, hiding them in the bedroom while I was waiting for the Capos to arrive.
I’m going to make it perfectly fucking clear to Costa, and anyone else who dares to question anything about me, that I am the new Boss.
This is my space, and Nicola is mine to do with as I please.
Which I have a feeling will be paying my cock a hell of a lot of attention.
NICOLA
Powering on my phone, I growl at the way Benicio thinks all of this is going to go. If he thinks that I’m just going to lie back and spread my legs like a good little zoccola, he’s got another thing coming. I may have been one once, but I’m no longer a whore.
I refuse to be that for him or anyone else in this world. I deserve more than that. My father may have been a tyrannical asshat, but I am still a principessa and I deserve more, just like the other women of my stature. Just like Luciana.
Q: IF YOU DO NOT SHOW. I WILL COME FOR YOU. BENICIO WILL NOT LIKE THAT. YOU WON’T LIKE THE CONSEQUENCES.
The text sends a chill up my spine. I won’t like the consequences if I defy him. I never have before, but it’s not something that I plan on doing now, either. Looking over my shoulder at the closed door. I glance at myself in the mirror.
I look the same. Except my face is flushed. My lips poutier than normal. My eyes definitely wilder than they typically are. This is a risk. If I’m caught by Benicio, there is no telling what he’ll do to me.
My curiosity is too great. I have to know how Q knows me.
Who is he?
Smoothing my sweaty palms down my skirt, I send a text to him.
I’LL COME.
Q: THE CAR IS WAITING AT THE BACK.
Becoming his Possession: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 3