He’s looking out the passenger window and for some reason, I don’t anticipate that he’ll actually answer me so when he does start talking, I’m a bit taken aback.
He clears his throat and his words, they do nothing but infuriate me even more than I already am.
“She was a college student. A girl that I met at the BDSM club. I didn’t think she was famiglia. She was there as one of the girls, sometimes the club brings in young girls to work the room, basically as fresh meat. Typically, college students, girls who need quick cash.”
I make a mental note to shut that shit down immediately. There doesn’t need to be any liabilities in the club, not like that.
If they want girls who are willing to play in that lifestyle, then we can come up with some kind of deal with Gavino’s girls, but never girls off the street.
“I didn’t find out who she was until it was too late. We were meeting four times a week. I would give her the cash that Taylor allotted me a week and I would buy expensive gifts, but I would buy one for Taylor as well so she wouldn’t know that I was buying two of everything when she looked at my credit card bills. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.”
This is the same pitiful fucking story I’ve heard from other married men. However, Costa is not most married men because Costa is Made and Salvatore’s sister is famiglia. He killed her and now he must answer to Salvatore for his sin.
“She wanted more. I fell in love with Abriana. I wanted to give her everything, but I couldn’t. I would have left Taylor if I could have, for Abriana I would have done anything.”
“You didn’t leave Taylor though. And just days ago you told me how much you loved your life. Not that I wholeheartedly trusted you, but I was beginning to have faith in you, not only the Made Man, but the family man that you claimed to be as well. You fucked it up, Costa.”
He clears his throat, his gaze still focused out of the window. “I know. I couldn’t leave Taylor. She has my children and she’s too important to the famiglia.”
“So, you killed another member? That was fucking stupid.”
“She gave me no choice,” he shouts. “She gave me no choice,” he repeats, this time on a broken whisper.
Pulling the car up to the warehouse, I notice that Paul, Gavino’s driver, is sitting in his seat, his eyes focused on me. Dipping my chin, I unfold from the car and walk over to Costa’s side to open the door for him.
Like a man that knows he is walking the last few steps of his life, he does so slowly. “What will happen to Taylor?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at me as he makes his way to the door.
“I will take care of her.”
“She can’t work, she never has, not a day in her life.”
Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. “You should have thought of that shit before you fucked, impregnated, and killed a member of the famiglia like a common, zoccola.”
“Yeah,” he breathes as the door opens.
Gavino is standing there, his confused gaze flicking from Costa to me, then back to Costa. “Salvatore is inside,” he murmurs as he steps to the side.
Costa doesn’t move. Reaching up, I wrap my fingers around his shoulder and squeeze before I roughly push him forward.
He stumbles as he walks into the dark warehouse. I notice Arlo standing in the corner and dip my chin in his direction as we continue to walk forward.
I can feel Arlo, Salvatore and Gavino’s eyes on us. There is a chair in the middle of the room and I don’t hesitate to guide Costa over to the seat. I don’t bother tying him down, he knows his fate and he isn’t going anywhere.
“He has blood all over him,” Gavino needlessly points out.
“I think you need to listen to his story,” I say, my eyes cutting over to Salvatore.
I watch as the man’s spine straightens and I hate that he has to hear what he’s going to about his sister. Not only that she’s gone, but that she was basically whoring at a sex club. No man wants to hear that about his little sister.
Not ever.
It all needs to come out, though. I know that Costa won’t be leaving this warehouse, which means that he won’t be accompanying Ermanno to Columbia, which means I’m yet another man down.
Swear to fuck, I’m never going to get this famiglia up and running, not with these constant roadblocks that keep being thrown in my direction. I contemplate going myself, but I can’t. Not only do I not want to leave, l can’t.
As much as I trust Nicola to run things, I know without a doubt that the men would not allow that shit. They wouldn’t listen to her and it would be goddamn chaos.
So, Ermanno is going to have to go this shit alone, and I hope to God that he comes back in one piece and that I can trust him.
NICOLA
What’s the saying? All dressed up and nowhere to go? That’s me right now.
It’s Benicio’s birthday and I’m wearing the sexiest little black dress that I could find, my engagement ring, my red highest high heels, and my makeup is deep nighttime perfection.
My hair is down and I spent far too long ensuring that each curl was perfect.
Glancing at the clock, my frown deepens. It’s well past ten in the evening. Although this is New York, I have a feeling that most fine dining restaurants will be closing their kitchens down soon.
Unable to sit down, I spend the next two hours walking the living room. I don’t notice the subtle changes that Benny’s interior designer has made, or the major ones.
I don’t notice anything, I’m far too upset. Which is why I don’t hear the noise coming from the front door and I scream when it opens.
I come face-to-face with the woman who was threatened for making me a birthday cake. The only person that I ever actually formed a bond with in my entire life. My father’s cook. She’s older than I remember, but she’s still just as pretty.
She stares at me, then I watch as her eyes slowly close before they reopen. “Nicola,” she nods.
“Why do you still come in the middle of the night to cook?” I blurt, far too curious for my own good.
She takes a step inside, then clears her throat. “It’s easier. Habit, I guess,” she shrugs.
“Is it though?”
“Your father. He was a very strict man. He made it very clear that he did not want me here during the day. I guess I still have an issue disobeying his orders, even after his death.”
There’s something a little… guilty, in her mannerisms, in the way she shifts from foot-to-foot as she looks everywhere but my face.
“Did you love him?” I ask on a hunch.
Her eyes widen and finally her gaze clashes with my own. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t.”
She gulps, taking a step back. “With all of my heart.”
“You’re fired,” I grind out.
She straightens her spine, her eyes narrowing as she looks at me. “He wouldn’t want that. Why?”
“It doesn’t matter why. This is my house. You’re fired.”
“I would heed her words, Marta,” Benicio’s voice calls out from behind her.
I didn’t see him arrive, Marta’s body blocking the view of the foyer. She turns around to look at him, then shifts her gaze back to me.
“If I hadn’t been with him, he would have killed me. It was self-preservation,” she lies.
Shaking my head, I take a step toward her. “That’s a lie you tell yourself to feel better about fucking and falling for a man who abused his child. You can leave and if I ever even get wind of you again, I’ll kill you myself.”
Her body jerks, but she turns away from me and runs out of the house. I watch her go, not feeling even an ounce of sadness.
I haven’t seen her since I was around thirteen years old anyway, and now I know why. She was too busy cooking and fucking my dad all night long.
“Where have you been?” I snap, lifting my eyes to meet Benny’s.
His brows rise, obviously not thrilled with my attitude,
but I’m on a roll tonight. I watch as he takes a step toward me, closing the front door and flipping the lock.
He keeps his gaze focused on mine, his eyes locked in on my own as he makes his way toward me.
“I’ve been busy. Costa caused some problems and it had to be dealt with. Then, I had about twenty-five men who’d been waiting on the front driveway for about five hours that needed instructions for their trip tomorrow morning. Sorry if I’ve caused you any inconvenience,” he says, keeping his voice cool and calm, however he is anything but.
“Costa?” I ask.
He shakes his head once. “Not your concern, passerotta.”
“Not my concern?” I ask.
Benicio shakes his head once. “Remember when I told you that sometimes, even with the position that I’ve given you, that I won’t be able to tell you everything? This is one of those instances. Just know that you won’t be seeing him anymore,” he explains.
Pressing my lips together, I nod my head once. “Okay,” I breathe.
“I’m fucking starved. I want some of your perfect fucking cake, then I’m going to eat your pussy and we’re going to go to sleep. This birthday did not turn out the way that I wanted it to.”
“My cake isn’t perfect,” I state, ignoring the rest of his words, because I’m not going to argue about those things. I want them too.
His lips twitch and he closes the distance between us. He dips his chin and his breath fans over me before his mouth touches my own. I exhale at the sweetness of the moment, the way he feels against me.
“It’s perfect to me, Nicola,” he mumbles against my lips. “I’ve never had a birthday cake before, it’s fucking perfection.”
Frowning, I take a step back. “Your parents?”
He shakes his head. “No, baby. Never.”
“Wow.”
“Well, I think my last one was when I was thirteen,” I say, shrugging a shoulder.
Benicio’s lips twitch into a small smile. He reaches for me and drags me close to his body again. Lifting my hands, I place them against his chest as I tip my head back to look up into his eyes. I fall in love with him a little bit more in this moment.
I want to know about his childhood, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t want to talk about it. At least not yet.
I won’t push him, but I can tell that he’s been treated poorly in one way or another. We’re similar, him and me. Two abused souls that just want to find peace with each other.
Maybe that’s why we’ve always been so drawn to one another.
Maybe that’s why we’re willing to make this work.
Maybe he was made for me just as I was made for him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
BENICIO
Glancing at the clock, I’m glad to see that it’s finally past my birthday. Birthday. What a fucking joke. Seems like every year, something completely fucked up happens.
All I wanted to do was have a nice dinner with Nicola, eat the cake that she made just for me and fuck her a few more times.
Instead, I spent the evening watching a man that I thought I could possibly trust being tortured to death.
There’s a soldier on his wife and children, reporting to me their every fucking move. I have to figure out what I’m going to do with them this week. But for now, I just want some goddamn sleep.
Cake consumed, Nicola fucked and now sleeping, all I can do is stare at the ceiling and wonder when the rest of the ragtag famiglia is going to finish crumbling around me.
I’m no fucking boss, that much is perfectly clear. I have a feeling that Gavino is going to call me up and demote me any moment.
Deciding that I can’t stare at the ceiling for the next umpteen hours, I slide from beneath Nicola and grab my crumpled slacks that are in the middle of the floor.
Pulling them up and over my hips, I make my way toward my office, my cell phone in hand.
Glancing down at my text messages, I scroll through to see that the soldier has taken care of the cook slash Mauro Senior’s lover. That bitch can cook for him in Hell while she services the Devil’s cock for all I care.
I have no time in my life for cunts like her, nor patience. Death was her only option and judging by the picture that the soldier just sent me, her fate has been met and dealt with.
Gavino’s name suddenly appears on my screen and I feel a sense of impending doom enter me, like maybe this is the end of my time as a boss.
Sliding my thumb across the screen, I decide immediately that it’s for the best. Being in this position has caused nothing but fucking drama.
I have what I want, what I need now. I have Nicola and as long as I still breathe, I will find happiness in whatever assignment Gavino sends my way.
“You handled yourself well today,” Gavino says before I can even greet him.
I blink, looking down at my bare feet, then inhale a breath. “Yeah?” I ask.
He hums. “Yeah. Like a fucking boss, Benny.”
Shaking my head, I pinch my eyes closed before I open them and sink down into the chair behind my desk. “Not feelin’ that way, Vino,” I admit.
He clears his throat. “Got my woman coming home. Got this shit taken care of with your guy and Salvatore’s sister. You got this under control, Benny.”
“Feel like it’s all falling apart, slipping through my fingers.”
He chuckles. “Yeah? I feel that way every second of every fucking day. You have to learn to roll with the punches. Work on one thing at a time. You got the Capo’s taken care of, now you just have to get new ones. Work on the BDSM club, and that when you can. Who is running the place anyway?” he asks.
“Ermanno has been trying to get a handle on that shit, but there’s a man there now, Vinny. I’m not so sure he’s doing that great of a job. I mean, he allowed Nicola to be hurt there. Allowed Salvatore’s sister and countless college students to work for under the table cash. I don’t think he needs to be running anything, let alone something like that,” I express.
There’s a moment of silence, then he speaks. “Mia can’t do both. She’s got her hands full with the new men I’ve given her, the virgin auctions and everything else. But what about Nicola? Is she capable?”
“You’re asking me if my fiancée can run the BDSM club?”
Gavino snorts. “I know you let her in on business. I’m not stupid, yeah?”
“Vino…” I begin.
“No. It’s cool. You’ve told me enough about her, about her past, I get it. If you’re going to have her as part of the organization, have her be beyond just a shadow in the background. Put her out there and make her a fucking boss in her own right. I have a feeling that dynamic could work for you two.”
He’s not wrong. Not in the slightest. The concept never even crossed my mind, but I see it now. I see it crystal fucking clear.
“I’m going to enroll her in accounting classes. I think that she could run the books, in general, maybe be more of a Consigliere?” I ask.
The idea had been rolling around in my head here and there, but I wasn’t sure if he would go for it. This conversation makes me think that he’s a bit more open than I had originally thought.
“This isn’t our father’s famiglia, Benicio. Sure, some things are never changing. She will never be Made, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t run shit with you, she is a Ricci and I know that she has been involved in the life more than just an average principessa.”
“She has,” I agree without going into detail about her life and the things she’s not only seen, but done and the way her father didn’t shelter her from shit, ever.
“You have my permission to have her as your Consigliere, as long as you use Salvatore for any legal issues and contracts.”
Smirking, I lift my gaze to the door where Nicola is standing, again wearing just my shirt from earlier.
“You got it, Boss,” I say, keeping my eyes on her and only her.
Nothing else exists in this whole fucking world when Nicola is present, it’s b
een that way since the moment that I first laid eyes on her. That’s the way that it’s been and will always be for me when it comes to her.
“Go to your woman,” he chuckles before the phone is silent.
Setting the device down on my desk, I watch her from across the room. She hasn’t moved, her eyes staring directly into mine as she just takes me in.
“Nicola?” I finally ask.
“Do you love me, Benicio?” she asks.
Frowning, I wonder what that has to do with anything at all. Licking my lips, I stand to my feet and slowly round my desk as I make my way over to her.
I stop a little short, afraid that if I’m too close to her, I’ll wrap her in my arms and fuck her without finding out what she is getting at here.
“What’s this about?”
She looks down at her feet, then slowly lifts her eyes to meet my own. “I just… everything that’s been going on. We’re getting married, and I feel like I was just kind of thrown at you. I want to make sure that this is really what you want.”
“Crazy woman,” I grunt.
Reaching out for her, I wrap my hands around her hips and pull her against me. Dipping my chin, I touch my lips to her nose, then wait for her to tip her head back so that I can press my mouth against hers, where it’s always meant to be.
“I just asked Gavino if you could be my Consigliere,” I rasp.
She gasps and without hesitating, I slip my tongue inside of her warm mouth. Tasting her, I groan into her mouth. She swallows the sound, her hands wrapping around my biceps and her nails digging into my bare skin.
Nibbling on her bottom lip, I reluctantly break the kiss and look down into her eyes. I watch as her chest rises and falls as she catches her breath. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted and she shakes her head once.
“You asked him that?”
NICOLA
I stare at Benicio in what I can only describe as awe. This man. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve him, but I’m never letting him go, no matter what. The fact that he even approached Gavino on something like this, it means more to me than anything else in this world.
Becoming his Possession: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 21