My brothers were parked out front of the mansion where I’d just taken Isabella’s virginity. And I had to leave her because, as usual, duty called. If my older brother, Alessio, as much as snapped his fingers, Nino and I were expected to follow.
Nino tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting patiently, while Alessio sat in the passenger seat, his arm rested on the edge of the open window with his usual scowl on his lips. My older brother was eight years older than Nino and me, and he exercised every bit of his authority over us.
I pulled on the handle and got inside the car. “Where are we going?”
“To take care of something,” Alessio shot back, his voice like a growl.
“For Pop?”
Alessio shook his head. “A favor for Parisi.”
Just hearing Isabella’s last name piqued my interest. Even though our fathers kept their distance from each other, my family often dealt with the dirty shit Senator Parisi couldn’t handle himself. “What are we doing for him?”
“Dad sent Tony and Sal to take care of Rizzoli, and they fucked it up. He managed to get away and turn some of our guys against us.” He shifted in his seat to look at me. “You knew better than to go near that girl, and yet we’re cleaning up your mess because of her.”
“I didn’t force Chris on Parisi’s daughter, so I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustrated.
Not even the radio was turned on, an awkward pause filling the air for a few seconds until Nino’s voice cut through the silence. “Dad was looking for you. Where did you go?”
Nino followed the circular driveway, his eyes focused on me in the rearview mirror, as he made his way off the property.
“I was busy,” I spat.
“Busy doing what?” Alessio asked.
I folded my arms across my chest and sank into the leather, staring out the window. “Does it matter? I’m here now.”
“You should have been with us,” Alessio said. “I shouldn’t have to track you down.”
“I answered when you called,” I countered with an attitude. “Drop it, will you?”
I was relieved when he turned around in his seat and stopped nagging me. Alessio had a way of getting under my skin with just one look. After the night I’d had with Isabella, I wasn’t in the mood to listen to my brother tell me what to do.
There was no way I was telling Alessio, of all people, that I was with Isabella. She was off-limits for a reason, which only made me want her more. But she still belonged to me.
Alessio left me alone, no longer pushing me, and I was happy to have the distraction. All I could think about was how I wanted to fuck Isabella next time and really claim her as mine. I’d given her what she wanted, the softer side I didn’t even know existed. She’d asked me not to hurt her because she knew I was an animal. But I saw the same hunger in her eyes.
We drove for close to an hour before we reached the vacant building my father owned. It wasn’t used for anything other than torturing and killing people. Holding as much property as my family did had its perks, and this particular building had been like a second home to me for years.
Nino parked next to the black van at the front of the entrance. We got out of the SUV and strolled across the parking lot to a side entrance. I never asked questions about jobs. There was no point. My brothers and I followed orders and did what we were told without complaint.
We followed Alessio into the dark building. The faint scent of bleach and cigars penetrated my nostrils. Behind a closed door, a man was strapped to a metal table, his bare chest covered in open gashes and blood. Hovered over the table, and dressed in a navy suit and brown wingtips with a clear poncho cover his clothes, was Frank Vitale. With his boyish looks, he didn’t look like a man who used vile methods of torture to break people. But he did. Frank was one of the best in the business.
I tapped Nino on the arm to get his attention. “Frank has this covered. Why are we here?”
He shrugged, keeping his voice low. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Frank didn’t turn his body, or even acknowledge we’d walked into the room, going about his business as if this were normal. To all of us, this was just another day. Our line of work was dangerous, and we all knew the risks involved. Unlike the other men in the room with us, my brothers and I never had a choice. Our lives were chosen for us at birth.
I stepped closer to the table, with Nino at my side, realizing I knew the man being tortured by Frank. Alessio stood next to Frank, his wicked gaze fixed on the man strapped down. He folded his arms over his chest, his head turned to the side as if he were thinking over what to do with Joe Rizzoli, Chris’ cousin.
“Where’s your low-life cousin?” Alessio asked Joe, his tone unusually calm given the situation.
He refused to answer the question, either out of loyalty or stupidity, or maybe even a combination of both. Joe squirmed when Frank shoved a rolled up cloth in his mouth.
My brother repeated his question one more time, greeted by the same silence, and then ordered Frank to continue cutting at his flesh.
As Joe’s screams filled the room, I didn’t budge, never flinched. I was desensitized to death and blood. I grew up helping my father with things children should never see, at least not until they’re old enough to understand what it means to take a life. But my life wasn’t conventional, far from it.
Five minutes passed, with Frank slicing off parts of Joe’s skin, before Alessio raised his hand to stop him. He removed the rag from Joe’s mouth and growled, “Where the fuck is Chris?”
Nothing again.
Alessio raised his hand, holding up his index finger. “I’ll ask you one more time before I collect your wife and bring her back here. I’ll force you to watch while Frank does the same thing to her. And then I’ll kill her. I might even keep you alive just so you have to live with making the wrong decision. Is that what you want? Tell me where Chris is now, and this can all stop.”
My brother was a liar. Men like us knew there was no way we’d hand over information and walk away unscathed. Joe knew this too, which was why he chose to ignore my brother’s question once more. This wasn’t a dead-end. Even though Joe was fighting the inevitable, he would serve his purpose after his death. Once we dumped his body where Chris would find him, it would cause enough of a stir to draw Chris out of hiding. Or at least that was the plan.
“No, please,” Joe pleaded. His face was bright red with tears of pain streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t touch her. I’ll tell you where Chris is, okay? Just leave her alone.”
Alessio loosened his tie and tugged on his collar, looking bored as he waited for Joe to share Chris’ location.
Joe closed his eyes, his face writhing in pain. “He’s at O’Connell’s.”
The Irishman was protecting him, but he wouldn’t for long.
Satisfied with his answer, Alessio turned away from him, his eyes fixed on Nino and me. He leaned into Frank’s shoulder and gave one final command, before Alessio snapped his fingers at Nino and told him to get the car ready.
Joe was as good as dead, and we all knew it. But at least he’d managed to spare his wife in the process. With Joe on his way out, it was time for us to hunt down Chris Rizzoli and remove him from the equation, all because Robert Parisi wanted him dead.
Chapter Eleven
Isabella
As I glanced around my new office, I thought of how undeserving I was of the space. I was two days into my temporary job working for my father at his campaign headquarters. He’d trampled over so many people through the years to get here, and now I was getting these comfy digs handed to me when I hadn’t even earned them.
It felt wrong. All of it. The office, the job, and everything my father pretended were earned legitimately. But even after all these years, it was abundantly clear to me that he still spoke to Giovanni DeLuca when he needed help. Yet, I wasn’t allowed to go near Stephan.
I was so angry with my father for ke
eping me sheltered for so many years. Pissed off that I couldn’t be with the only man who’d ever made my heart pound. And I was even more mad that over one week had passed since I’d given Stephan my virginity and hadn’t even received as little as a text message.
Since I was a massive disappointment to my father, by refusing to attend graduate school, he’d suggested—more like forced—me to work for him until I could find something more suitable. He had too much control over my life. I’d followed his orders, listened to his advice, and I was miserable because of it. And now I was miserable because of Stephan.
Even when I was away at college, I couldn’t do anything fun. Fear was constantly instilled in me. What if someone saw me with a drink in my hand at a party? Or a boy on my arm? I’d kept my life simple because of it. Because God forbid someone saw me doing something scandalous enough to report it to the press. My father would’ve had a coronary over it. All Senator Robert Parisi cared about was public perception and polling numbers. Family came second. Maybe even third or fourth.
I was settling into my new workspace, an oversized office on the right side of the building with a view of the parking lot, when my phone rang. Lifting it to my ear, I didn’t even have the chance to speak before Carly, one of the many receptionists at my father’s campaign headquarters, started talking.
She spoke fast, and with a thick New York accent. “Isabella, Mr. Parisi would like to meet with you for lunch. Are you free?”
“Which one? My brother or father?”
“Oh, right.” She giggled. “Sorry, your brother wants to see you. He said he has a few things he’d like to go over with you. He also asked me to get your lunch order.”
“In his office or mine?”
It wasn’t like I was doing anything other than staring at my cell phone every ten seconds, wishing to hear from Stephan. Nope, I wasn’t doing that at all. I needed a distraction from Stephan.
“Mr. Parisi’s office,” she said. “I’m ordering from Paradise Deli if you’d like a sandwich. I can e-mail you the menu.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“No problem. Reply with your order, and I’ll let him know to expect you.”
I muttered my thanks and then hung up the phone.
After checking my cell phone one more time, deflated I had no missed calls or messages, I opened my e-mail and looked at the menu Carly sent me. Scanning the long list of sandwiches and side dishes, I tapped my nails on the desk, irritated with myself.
I clutched the choker Stephan had given me between my fingers, tugging at the feather. The boy who’d given this to me was still in there, even if he was now a criminal hardened by all the years of following his father’s orders. Regardless of which side of the law we were on, we had a lot in common. We both had impossible father’s who’d chosen our lives for us.
I sent Carly an e-mail with my sandwich order. The office was too quiet, which made my nerves worse. From the other side of the room, I could hear the clock hands moving, the eerie silence almost deafening.
Bored and in need of a distraction, I walked around the perimeter of the building for over an hour until a man in a Paradise Deli polo shirt delivered our food. At the reception desk, Carly paid for our lunch from the expense account and then handed me the brown bag. I found Mark in his office, with his feet kicked up on the oak desk, leaning back in his chair. He had a cell phone raised to his ear, engaged in what seemed like a personal call.
Mark lifted his hand to give me a tiny wave, motioning for me to set up our food on the conference table to his right.
I nodded.
After I sifted through the containers, I snapped my fingers at Mark to gain his attention. A few seconds later, he hung up the phone and sat at the opposite end of the table from me.
“Sorry about that, sis.” Mark opened the box in front of him and peeled back the layer of paper covering his roast beef sandwich. “I had to take care of some last minute business.”
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I bit into my turkey sandwich, glancing across the table at Mark.
“Is it so unusual for me to want to have lunch with my sister?” He sighed. “It’s your first week working on Dad’s re-election campaign. The numbers aren’t looking good. Kane is a war hero and a philanthropist. People can relate to him more than some boring old stiff like Dad.”
“Maybe people want change. Dad has been a Senator since I was a kid. He has enough money and connections that he could lose this campaign and never work for the rest of his life.”
Mark shook his head, laughing. “You don’t understand how this works, Bella. Holding public office comes with great power. Our family could lose everything Dad has worked so hard to build. Do you want that?”
“Well, no, but I wouldn’t mind having a real family for once. It would be nice to not have a father who’s never home, a mother who pretends to plan charity events so she can sneak off with her lover, and a brother who doesn’t have to do drugs to work through the night. I’ve been on my own for years.”
Mark finished chewing his food and grunted. “This kind of attitude is toxic for this office. We need you to do your part while you’re here, not shake things up. It’s important we present a unified front.”
My stomach turned, no longer hungry. I set the half-eaten sandwich back in the box and pushed it away from me. “That’s why I’m here? So we can look like we’re a family.”
He refused to answer me, stuffing a few chips into his mouth.
“Maybe I don’t want Dad to win. I wouldn’t mind things being normal for once.”
“Don’t say that, Bella. Don’t you dare. I’ve given years of my life to support Dad. So has Mom. All of our efforts will have been for nothing if you don’t help us.”
“And what do you think I can do to sway votes in his favor?”
“Do you remember Karl Vos?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, confused by his question. “The heir to the Vos shipping empire?” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing, a snort escaping my mouth. “The last time I saw him, he was eating his boogers when he thought no one was looking. He’s gross.”
“He’s also very rich and about to come into his inheritance.”
“Good for him.”
“We need this, Bella.” Mark’s hardened expression softened. “You can help Dad by marrying Karl.”
I laughed so loud my ears hurt. “You have got to be kidding me? I’m not marrying anyone, especially not that weirdo.”
“He’s not weird anymore.” Mark removed his cell phone from his pocket and typed something, before sliding the phone in my direction. “See for yourself.”
I picked up the phone, surprised to find a man who looked nothing like the awkward boy I’d met before I was sent away to boarding school. Karl was gorgeous, with tanned skin, a perfect smile, strong jawline, and striking green eyes that practically jumped off the screen. But he wasn’t Stephan. No one compared to the man who’d captured my heart a long time ago.
I sank back into my chair, studying Karl’s picture, wondering if I could take one for the team. No, I’d done enough for my father, given up enough for him.
“I don’t understand how marrying Karl could help Dad win this election. Are the polls that bad?”
“Yes. A marriage with one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country will help. Dad is working on a trade deal that will benefit not only the Voss’ but also the American people. This marriage would be a win-win for everyone.”
“Except for me,” I shot back. “When you were plotting this out with Dad, did either of you stop to consider I am a person who has feelings. Have either of you considered I want something from life other than to be the wife of a billionaire?”
“What woman wouldn’t want that life? Thousands of women would kill you and step over your corpse to get to Karl, and you’re being offered this opportunity on a silver platter.”
“Why would he want to marry me? Is he being forced to do this,
too?”
“He still remembers you. When his father told him he had to marry to gain access to his trust fund, Karl called Dad. He’s always liked you.”
I gritted my teeth in anger, my jaw flexing from the pressure. “Why? You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Because he wanted to marry the most beautiful girl he’s ever known.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “And he thought of me? He must be blind.”
“You’re a beautiful girl, Bella. All of my friends like you. That’s why I stopped bringing them to the house.”
“This is stupid. I’m not some prize for a bored rich kid to use to get even richer.”
“You’d be doing this for Dad. Helping out Karl would only be an added bonus.”
I pushed myself up from the table and kicked the chair behind me. “I’ve heard enough, Mark. Of all people, how could you ask me to do this? We used to be close. What happened to you?”
“I’m still the same person, only wiser and more realistic to how things work in the world.”
I snorted. “Unless you have real work for me to do, I’m going home for the day. I refuse to sit here, bored out of my mind. If you have nothing for me to do, then I’d like to be excused.”
He waved his hand, irritated. “Go, but please consider the offer. You could be set for life, and so will our family.”
“I’ll think about it,” I muttered, even though it was a lie.
I wouldn’t even consider marrying some douche to save my father’s election. Over the years, I’d given enough. This was one order I would not follow no matter how strongly my father and brother advised me.
Furious, I kept my thoughts to myself as I cleaned up the mess from lunch, dumping it into the garbage can outside Mark’s office. I stomped past the reception desk and made a beeline for my office. Once inside, I leaned against the door, taking a second to comprehend how cruel my family could be.
How dare anyone ask me to marry someone to win a fucking election?
Now, more than ever, I wanted to escape my life. I dreamed of the day when I’d finally be free of my family and the constant pressure of being a Parisi.
Cruel King: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 7