Adrian's Vengeance: A Dark Mafia Romance
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Adrian’s Vengeance
Isabella Starling
Raven Scott
Copyright © 2021 by Isabella Starling and Raven Scott
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Glossary
1. Adrian
2. Marzia
3. Adrian
4. Marzia
5. Adrian
6. Marzia
7. Adrian
8. Marzia
9. Adrian
10. Marzia
11. Adrian
12. Marzia
13. Adrian
14. Marzia
15. Adrian
16. Marzia
17. Adrian
18. Marzia
19. Adrian
20. Marzia
21. Adrian
22. Marzia
23. Adrian
24. Marzia
25. Adrian
26. Marzia
27. Adrian
28. Marzia
29. Adrian
30. Marzia
31. Adrian
32. Marzia
33. Adrian
34. Marzia
35. Adrian
36. Marzia
37. Adrian
38. Marzia
39. Adrian
40. Marzia
41. Adrian
42. Marzia
43. Adrian
Epilogue
Ryders Claim
Connect With Me
Glossary
cazzo - prick
reietto - outcast
dio - God
merda - shit
bambina - babygirl
1
Adrian
Eleven years ago
"Hey, it's the outcast! Outcast, reietto!"
Laughter follows the cruel words, filling the streets of the docks with its melodic tone. I grit my teeth together and do my best to ignore the mean boys like papa told me to. But they're determined to be heard, especially one of them, the one who hates me the most. When I look up from the water, a boy a couple years older than me is standing above me, smirking down with a disgusted expression. Like I'm nothing but trash.
Quickly, I raise myself until I'm standing up and we're facing-off. I can take Vitto. I don't care if he's a Donati. He's got nothing on me.
"Got a problem, cazzo?" I hiss at him.
He curls his lips up in disgust. "Dirty mouth on a dirty kid. What are you doing here, Bernardi? I thought I told you and your brothers not to come to the docks anymore."
"You don't own the world, Donati." We face off and he smirks at me. He knows he's got a one up on me. He may not owe the world, but his family owns the docks, which makes them royalty in Palermo, and he knows that as well as I do.
"You're treading on dangerous ground," he grinds out. "Watch your step around here, reietto. Wouldn't want to hurt yourself. This is a dangerous place, especially when someone like me doesn't want you here."
"Fuck you," I hiss. "You don't tell me what to do."
"My papa tells your papa what to do, though," he smirks at me. "And he won't like hearing about this one bit."
I stare at him sullenly, knowing full-well how right he is. Papa did tell me to be on my best behavior while he went for a meeting in the offices here at the docks. He won't be pleased to know I acted out. Again. I swallow thickly, knowing full well I can't fight this boy. But dio, the temptation is there. I want to smash his face into the dirty ground.
"So, reietto. You better get the fuck out of here before I make you." Vitto steps forward, his face a menacing snarl as he advances on me. "You're nothing but trash, Adrian. You're not even a real Italian. Papa told me all about you. You're not even Bernardi blood."
I take a deep breath like papa taught me. I count to five. But none of it helps, and before I can stop myself, I've launched my body at the older boy, fists hammering against his chest. I'm smaller than him, but that also means I'm quicker. And I can tell Vitto doesn't have any fighting experience, unlike me. Growing up with four brothers will do that.
His screams ring out in the docks, and suddenly, the figures of four other boys round the corner. Merda. It's Vitto's gang of preppy friends. I can take one of them, but I can't take five. Still, my brain doesn't accept this fact, and as Vitto's cries ring out in the alleyway I've dragged him to, two of the other boys drag me off him. I'm kicking, spitting and screaming as they hold me back and Vitto advances on me with maddened eyes.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he snarls at me. "My father will hear about this."
"Pussy," I smirk at him. "Letting your papa do your dirty work for you. What a weakling."
I can tell even the other boys are nervous, knowing Vitto won't let me go easily. And as he approaches me with a wicked grin, I know I'll be counting my broken bones in no time. But still I can't force myself to stop. The moment he's close enough, I spit at him, watching with dark satisfaction as my saliva dribbles down his cheek. He wipes it away with disgust and throws the first punch.
I don't make a fucking sound, but we all hear bones crunching as the punch lands on my nose. Instead of responding to Vitto's pathetic attempt to hurt me, I stare at him with burning hatred in my eyes. "Is that all you fucking got?"
"Cazzo," he mutters, preparing to deal another punch when a timid voice interrupts him.
"Basta!"
I raise my head, ignoring the drip of blood down my face. That's when I see her for the first time. She's wearing a red dress with polka dots and black lacquered shoes. Her hair is neatly braided into a long plait falling down her back, with tendrils escaping the tightness and framing her pretty face. She's young. Too young to be here, and too young for Vitto to listen to her. And yet the moment she speaks up, we're all enamored. The boys holding me loosen their grip on my arms and I struggle out of their grasp, groaning as I reach to my broken nose.
"Marzia," Vitto speaks up. "What are you doing here? Go back to your parents."
"Don't tell me what to do. What are you doing to that boy?" Our eyes meet and at that moment, magic happens. She is pure innocence and I'm darkness personified, blood dripping down my white shirt. I can see the instant infatuation she feels when she looks at me. She's interested in me, more than Vitto. I smirk.
"He disrespected me," Vitto smirks. "So I'm showing him what happens to dogs who don't know their place."
"Did you make him bleed?" The girl, Marzia, crosses her arms and glares at the older boy. And for some reason, overly confident, brutal Vitto, who must be twice her age, looks sheepish. It makes me laugh out loud.
"Thanks, bambina," I smirk. "But I can take care of myself."
I walk away from the alleyway, wiping my blood on the shirt. Papa will kill me, but that doesn't matter now. What matters is that Vitto got one-upped by a little girl. Fucking hilarious.
As I round the corner, I hear the soft pitter-patter of footsteps behind me. "Wait up!"
I turn over my shoulder. The rays of the dying sun illuminate the little girl. She's beautiful, like a porcelain doll.
"Go back to your boyfriend," I hiss, turning around. But she reaches me fast, dropping a hand on my shoulder. I turn around again, ready to tell her to get lost. I don't like the effect she has on me. The way I feel when our eyes lock. The feeling of being seen completely, as if she has a magnifying glass of some sort and can see right through m
e.
"He's not my boyfriend." She reaches up, her fingertips making contact with my face. She avoids the bloodied area, but her hand slips on a drop of it, and she quickly retrieves it. It hurts to admit I miss her touch already. "He broke your nose."
"It's nothing," I mutter.
"Does it hurt?"
I shrug. "I've had worse. Once, I fell from a tree and broke a leg. The bone snapped and broke right through my skin."
"Gross." She's smiling as she says it. "Are you Adrian Bernardi?"
"Yes. Why?"
"My papa is talking to yours right now." She motions to an office building by the docks. "They told me to come here and play."
"By yourself? But you're a girl."
She smiles mischievously. "I have a bodyguard. But I ran off."
"Sneaky. Clever girl."
She beams at my words proudly. Something uncoils in my stomach. It's between hate and love, the need to hurt her and the fierce desire to protect the girl at all costs. I don't understand it, but I don't hate it, either. It makes me feel something I've never felt before. Something that confuses me.
"I should go," I mutter, walking past here and toward the office building where papa will be waiting. "Nice meeting you, bambina."
"My name is Marzia," she calls out after me. I don't respond, part of me hoping she'll ask me to stay longer. My wish comes true a moment later as she runs behind me again, grabbing my palm. "Can't you wait a few minutes with me? I'm sure your papa is still busy."
"Fine, I guess," I mutter. Together, we sit down on the edge of the docks, our feet dangling above the dirty seawater. I worry she'll get in trouble for getting her pretty clothes dirty, but she doesn't seem concerned at all. I like that about her. She's a little rebel, and I respect that.
"I like you," she tells me matter-of-factly. "I like you much more than Vitto."
"That's... good," I manage with a laugh. "That boy is a cazzo. I hate him."
She nods in understanding. Hesitatingly, her fingers find their way to my hand and she covers it with her tiny palm. "Why did you argue with him, though? You knew all those boys would gang up on you."
"I can't help it," I get out. Her hand is warm and distracting. "Papa says I'm almost as brave as I am stupid."
She laughs out at that. "That's funny. I'm glad I showed up so you didn't get beaten up."
"I could take them."
"Five of them?" she shakes her head. "They're bigger and older than you. I don't think so."
This annoys me, so I snatch my hand away from hers, giving her a dirty look. She seems hurt by this, looking like a wounded puppy, and I groan out loud.
"I think you owe me one," she goes on next.
"Huh?"
"Well, I saved you today." She grins. "That means next time, you have to save me."
"Save you? From what?"
"I don't know," she mutters, avoiding my gaze. "Just save me. Wanna make a promise?"
I don't know what takes over me then, but I find myself nodding, eager to stay in debt to this sweet little bambina who seems wise beyond her young age. "Okay."
"Here." She reaches into her dress and pulls out a simple golden chain with a gold ring dangling from it. "This was my nonna's wedding ring. She gave it to me before she died last year."
"I'm sorry." I can tell talking about it hurts her, because her eyes fill with heavy tears. She nods to acknowledge my words, then pushes the necklace into my hands.
"You can give it back when you come through on your promise."
"Shouldn't I be giving you something then?"
"You already did," she smiles, picking herself up and dusting off her cute dress. "You gave me your heart."
"That's not true!" I'm outraged by this statement, but the girl merely laughs and takes off running toward the office building.
"Catch me if you can!"
I race after her, my heart exhilarated. I already feel something for this girl. Something unusual, something that holds my heart in a grip like nothing I've ever known before. I catch her right before she reaches the office doors, grabbing her hand in mine.
She spins around, still laughing, and our eyes meet. Her smile falls. The air is tense and thick with our promise. She doesn't say a word as I press a clumsy kiss against her full little lips.
"There," I mutter. "Now I gave you something, too."
"What's that?" she asks.
I smirk. "Your first kiss, bambina."
"Adrian!" We turn in the direction of the voice. Papa's coming toward us with a thunderous expression, and there's a couple behind him who seem pissed off for no reason. "Let go of her."
"There you are, Marzia!" the woman behind him calls out. "Where did you go? Ezio has been worried sick trying to find you!"
My father reaches us. He grabs my hand, forcing the girl's palm to slip from mine.
"We're leaving," papa barks at me.
"Yes, you are." The other man grabs Marzia by the shoulders and forces her to stand in front of him and the woman who is now glaring at us. They must be her parents. "You're not welcome here anymore, Bruno."
"I got that," papa hisses at them. "I won't mistake you for an ally anymore, De Luca. But consider this your warning - you've just made a very powerful enemy."
The man glares stoically as papa rushes me down the street to where our driver is waiting.
"Papa, that girl..." I start, realizing he never commented on my disheveled appearance. "I like her."
He spins me around then, kneeling in front of me. I notice for the first time how creased his face is by worry. He's getting older.
"Never think of that girl again," he orders me. "As far as you're concerned, she doesn't exist."
"But I-"
"Listen to me, Adrian," he says, grabbing my shoulders. "I just spent the most humiliating hour of my life with her parents. I tried to get them to agree to a marriage. You and Marzia De Luca."
My heart soars, but papa crushes it the next second.
"They declined," he gets out through gritted teeth. "And some day, Adrian, we'll make them pay."
"Yes," I mutter. "We'll make them pay."
"Not now, though. The time isn't right." Papa stands up and ushers me into the waiting car. "When the right time comes, we will be ready for vengeance."
"Vengeance." I test the word out on my lips as the driver pulls away from the docks. I catch another glimpse of Marzia as we drive away, staring after our car with eyes brimming with tears.
"Vengeance," I repeat thoughtfully, my fingers grazing the golden chain and ring she gave me. "We'll make them pay, papa."
2
Marzia
My life has been spent in a gilded cage. Day and night, the little golden door that leads into freedom is locked, and I'm kept behind the bars, watched but never seen.
I have long since given hope of connecting with my parents. The only person who ever understood me was nonna, but it's been twelve long years since she passed away - a long time to be alone with the overwhelming burden of being the perfect mafia princess.
I have nobody I can trust. No friends except the girls my parents deem worthy, who are all sinfully boring, obedient, and meek. But most of the time, I'm alone, locked up in my quarters. I live a pampered life full of beautiful dresses, expensive everything and privilege most other people cannot even imagine. But I yearn for something else. For life outside this cage they've built for me. I long to have the one thing I can never have - freedom.
Sometimes, I still think about the boy who owes me a favor. Adrian. I've imagined what our life together could be like if my parents had accepted the marriage proposal Adrian's father offered them. But they didn't. They laughed in Bruno Bernardi's face.
Of course, I will be married off anyway. In fact, they're announcing my engagement tonight. And a sinking feeling in my stomach tells me I will not like whoever they pick for me.
The only male company I've been allowed since I turned thirteen were potential suitors. I've met them all - the old, th
e rich, the beautiful, and ugly - inside and out. Out of all the men I met, my parents will pick one. He will put his ring on my finger whether I like it or not, and I will be forced to say I do. No arguing. From one gilded cage to the next.
"Marzia?" My handmaid, Lucia, appears in the door frame with a forever meek expression, just like every other woman in this house. "Your parents are ready for you now."
I nod, running the silver hairbrush through my dark locks one last time before setting it down on my vanity table. The girl in the mirror stares back at me, beautiful, and empty.
I pick myself up and smooth down the perfectly conservative dress I'm forced to wear. I haven't worn a pair of pants since I was a little girl. It's just not proper for a girl like me.
Any other girl would be excited by the thought of her eighteenth birthday, yet I lived in fear of mine. But now that it's here, the sinking feeling in my stomach has hit rock bottom. I'll be lavished with expensive gifts. A party will be announced. And then I'll be forced to marry the man my parents picked for me.
I walk down the stairs, surprising Lucia as I descend them. She stumbles back to give a respectful bow, but accidentally bumps into a vase on the console table she was dusting. The vase falls, shattering on the hardwood floor.
There's a moment of deathly silence followed by Lucia's sob as she throws herself to the ground, gathering the shards with shaky fingers.