Adrian's Vengeance: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Isabella Starling

  "Fuck off," Vitto grunts. "Get the fuck away from here. Where's your driver?"

  I shrug.

  Well, this isn't enough to please the older guy. He attacks me then, but the moment he lunges at me, Rex snarls, barking his head off.

  "I told you to control that fucking mutt!" Vitto growls. "You wouldn't want something to happen to your dog, would you?"

  "Fuck you," I hiss. "You touch my dog, you fucking die."

  "I'd like to see you take me," Vitto boasts. "I could kill you in a heartbeat."

  "Sure." I smirk. "You and six other armed goons, like that time years ago?"

  "You don't know who you're talking to, do you, reietto? I could fucking end you," Vitto says. "One wrong word and your life is fucking over."

  "Yeah, I bet your father will listen to the opinion of his spoiled kid," I scoff. "No one gives a shit about you, Vitto."

  "They will soon," he warns. "Once my father retires, all of this will belong to one person only…me."

  "And I'm sure you'll run it into the ground."

  "Fuck off, Adrian."

  "Gladly." As I make a move to leave the pier, the necklace with the wedding bands slips from my pocket. I make a grab for it before it can fall into the sea.

  Vitto is faster. He grips the gold bands in his fingers, smirking at me. "What's this?"

  "None of your fucking business, Donatti." I lunge for the necklace but

  Grinning, he takes a step back.

  "Give it to me before I really fucking hurt you… you piece of merda!"

  "Oh, so it means something to you?" Vitto smirks. "I wonder what would happen if you lost it."

  My vision darkens. "Give it back or I'll tell Rex to rip your throat out."

  Vitto smirks. Then, before I can react, he throws the necklace as far into the sea as he can.

  I stare at him, dumbfounded. Then I see red. I could kill him then and there.

  Rex is barking his head off, scaring Vitto shitless.

  Instead of attacking the rich prick, I peel my shirt off my body.

  "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Vitto snaps.

  "Taking back what you fucking stole," I hiss before jumping into the sea.

  "You're fucking crazy," Vitto shouts after me as I begin swimming. "You're never going to find it again."

  I don't respond. I keep diving, looking for the necklace. The sea is deep though, and I can't reach the bottom. I'm going to fucking kill Donatti.

  By the time I climb back onto the pier, Vitto is long gone.

  Rex howls as I make my return, wagging his tail.

  "It's okay, boy." I pat his head. "We'll keep looking until we find it again."

  And I keep my promise. I return to the docks every single day. It takes twenty-two days to find the necklace and I never, not once, start to lose hope. It's the only way I can prove to Marzia how much she means to me and that we're meant to be together. I would've kept looking for months, only to hold the necklace in my hands again.

  I find it without anyone else's help. For three weeks, I come to the pier and dive into the sea, combing the sea floor until I finally see it, glistening, with curious fish swimming around the bands. I smirk as I get out on the twenty-second day, and Rex wags his tail happily. I did it. I got it fucking back.

  Vitto Donatti be damned.

  As I head back home that day, I swear to myself one day, I'll take great pleasure in killing Vitto.

  He's done nothing but fuck things up for me. He's an insolent child, a grown brat that has too much power because fools like his father believe he deserves it. He needs to be knocked down and shown his real place, which is below me. I don't give a shit about his money or the power he holds over this city.

  One day, Vitto Donatti will pay.

  32

  Marzia

  After Adrian leaves, my heart doesn't stop pounding for what feels like hours. I still feel the searing heat of his kiss on my lips, and I keep smiling, touching my fingertips to my lips as I file through the papers.

  "Stop daydreaming, ragazza," Bruno tells me after a while. "I can tell you're not focusing on your work. Your mind is a thousand miles away. Just take a break instead."

  I nod, grateful for the interruption. Bruno's right, I can't fucking focus. I'm too lost in my daydreams about his son.

  Putting away the papers, I join Bruno at his desk for lunch.

  Once again, he has lasagna brought in for me. My appetite has been waning, but I look forward to this meal every single time. As I dig in, I keep my eyes trained on Adrian's father, watching him with some suspicion.

  "Why are you looking at me like that?" Bruno grunts. "Eat your food before it gets cold."

  "I'm not afraid of you anymore," I find myself saying at the same time as I realize it's true. Bruno Bernardi doesn't intimidate me like he used to. I feared for my life when I was around him before, but not now. I'm confident he isn't planning on hurting me anymore. We've got our own connection now, something akin to a friendship developing between us.

  "You should be," Bruno tells me. "It would be wiser."

  "I know you aren't going to kill me."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  I size him up, wondering how honest I can be. Should I go for the jugular and strike him where it really fucking hurts, or should I pretend I don't notice anything like the rest of his family? "I know you're dying," I finally say, cutting straight through the bullshit.

  Bruno cocks his head at me, asking, "How can you be so sure?"

  "You're getting thinner by the day. You're coughing up blood. And you've given up on trying to fix it," I count off on my fingers. "Everyone else who doesn't see it is a fool."

  "You're smarter than most of my sons, it seems. I thought one of them would have said something sooner," Bruno says with a hint of bitterness to his voice. "I guess they're all too fucking busy to worry about their father. I shouldn't be angry about it… it is the way of life."

  "It doesn't mean they don't care about you," I offer.

  He merely scoffs at the sound of my words. "You can't tell anyone," he states firmly.

  "I won't."

  "Do you want to know why I hated your parents, Marzia?"

  I find myself nodding. "I would like to find out."

  Bruno sighs, leaning back in his chair. "You know I was married and that I had a son."

  "Santino." I nod.

  "His mother died in childbirth…or so we told the boys. She didn't. She was—killed," Bruno admits heavily. "Assassinated."

  "Why?"

  "Because of a grudge from another mafia famiglia," Bruno goes on. "I sought help from your parents when she was still pregnant, but they declined to help me by agreeing to marry you to Adrian. It would've given me a powerful ally, one my enemies wouldn't have gone after. But your parents didn't want that. They had me thrown out and humiliated me."

  My cheeks burn with shame at the sound of my own parents' behavior.

  "After Santino was born," Bruno continues. "My wife was shot and killed by the enemy famiglia. It is their fault my wife, the love of my life, is gone."

  "You can't blame my parents for that."

  "I can, and will continue to do so," Bruno hisses. "Be glad I don't fucking hate you. Just because you're Adrian's bambina doesn't give you the right to speak to me like that."

  I stare at him fearlessly. "You're an old, sick man. And like it or not, I'm going to be Adrian's wife and carry on your name with the sons I give Adrian."

  "You are right," he says thoughtfully. "I underestimated the enemy. Marzia, you have my respect."

  I stand from my seat, smiling as I approach his desk. "By the way, here's the proposal I came up with for the distillery."

  "What?" Bruno stares at the papers.

  "You told me to put together a business plan." I shrug. "Here's the business model I came up with." I sit in front of him and begin to explain the plan, showing him all the bullet points of the visual map I've drawn.

  Once I'm done, Brun
o sits back and stares at me in wonder. "You've thought of everything."

  "I had to," I mutter. "I didn't know the estate was in such shambles. I really would've thought papa took better care of our legacy."

  "Your father was a reckless man, Marzia," Bruno mutters.

  I find myself agreeing with him. "But it's not too late to save the company. If you follow this plan, you should be able to turn a profit in the first six months again."

  "What are you hoping to get out of this?" Bruno asks skeptically.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Well, you're not just doing this because you love tradition so much."

  I laugh. "How could you possibly know that about me?"

  "Come on, Marzia. Don't tell me you still care about your father after finding out everything I told you."

  "No matter what he did to you, he is still my father," I say. "I thought you understood family loyalty. I thought that's what all of this was about."

  "All of what?"

  "This. Adrian. Nicoletta. Their marriage." I pierce him with my gaze. "Didn't you demand he marry her to prove his loyalty to the Bernardi family?"

  Bruno laughs out loud. "The exact opposite, my dear."

  I'm intrigued, but I don't get to question him any further.

  Eleanora comes to collect me.

  I silently follow her down the hallway and back to my bedroom. There, my painting supplies are placed on the coffee table in the salon.

  "Eleanora, what's this doing here?" I point to the supplies.

  Eleanora guides me to the couch and places a sketchbook in my hands.

  "No, I don't want to draw," I tell her.

  She insists, pushing them both into my hands again.

  With a groan, I open the sketchbook and stare at the empty paper. I don't know if I can still do this. I don't know if it will still feel like therapy to put my feelings on paper. But my hand holding the pencil begins to glide of its own accord, sketching out a scene.

  Eleanora watches with a big grin.

  I barely hear the knock when it comes, but when I raise my eyes and see Nicoletta standing before me, I quickly put down my pencil and switch my attention to her. "I was just thinking about you," I manage, feeling the flush of embarrassment creeping back into my cheeks.

  "Sure," she says it sarcastically and comes to sit down on the sofa next to me, keeping a safe distance between us as if I'm somehow contagious. "I need to talk to you about something."

  "What's that?"

  "There's a wedding rehearsal dinner coming up," she admits reluctantly. "I need you to take my place?"

  "What?" My eyes widen. "Why would I do that?"

  She looks at me, not masking the contempt she feels. "Because someone has to. I can't go. I just got my monthlies."

  I nod, absent-mindedly wondering when the last time was for me.

  Nicoletta gets up. "That's all I wanted to say."

  "Wait!" I realize how desperate I sound as I cry out, and reach for the sketchbook I was holding before she came in. "Will you let me show you something first?" I know she doesn't want to hate me, even though I've given her every reason to do so.

  She hesitates, then stares at my sketchbook with curiosity nevertheless. "What's that?"

  "I drew you." I open to the page I was working on before she came in. The sketch is almost finished. Nicoletta looks beautiful as she stares at the viewer, and her eyes speak of hidden secrets she refuses to share with anyone. I tear out the paper and hand it to her. "I know it's not much. But I want you to have it."

  She takes the torn out paper in her hands and studies the drawing critically. She keeps raising her eyes to me, as if she's unsure I really did this. "It's beautiful."

  "Thanks, it's nothing."

  "It's not. You're very talented." She purses her lips as if admitting that hurts her somehow. "Thanks."

  "Nicoletta?" I ask softly. "Do you think we'll ever be able to... be friends?"

  She hesitates, finally shrugging. "I don't know. If I marry Adrian, probably not."

  "Do you like him?"

  "Of course I like him, he's my fiancé," she replies stiffly.

  "Nicoletta."

  She raises her eyes to mine.

  I implore her to be honest, at least in here, with me, "Won't you tell me the truth? No one can hear us in here."

  She sighs, shrugging again. "I don't have a choice, Marzia. Whether I like him or not, I'll have to marry the man."

  "Is there someone else you'd rather..."

  She doesn't answer, turning her back to me so I can't see her true emotions painted all over her face. "I have to go now. I shouldn't be spending so much time with you."

  "But Nicoletta, don't you think we could both use a friend?" I whisper. "We're all alone here. We could help each other."

  "And how exactly are you going to help me?" she asks bitterly, looking at me over her shoulder. "I've already told you too much."

  "You haven't told me anything!"

  "Adrian suspects me, Marzia." She faces me, and the pain is written all over her. "If he finds out the truth, I'm going to be ruined."

  I’m stunned as I stare at her. "The truth about what?"

  She sighs, running a hand through her blonde locks. "Let's just say everything isn't as it seems."

  "With your father?"

  "That too," she mutters. "Just—don't get me in trouble. This wedding has to happen. If it doesn't, I'll lose everything."

  My heart hurts for her. She never told me the exact reason she's so determined to marry Adrian, but I know she's dead-set on it happening, even though she doesn't feel the same way I do about Adrian. "Maybe if you told me what's going on I could help," I say again.

  "I can't. It doesn't just concern me, it concerns papa as well," she admits brokenly. "I have to protect him at all costs, and the only way for me to do that is to marry Adrian."

  We stand there in silence as I contemplate her words. I understand the grave situation, and I realize there's no way we can be friends. Not when we both want the same man ‒ albeit for different reasons. "Okay," I finally manage. "Do you want me to stay out of your way?"

  "I think that would be for the best," Nicoletta mutters. "Don't take it personally. In another world, we could have been friends."

  But not in this one, I think to myself. Message received. "I'll let you be then." I nod. "Sorry about the rehearsal dinner. I'll take care of everything."

  "Thanks," she answers stiffly, heading for the door. Her hand pauses on the doorknob, and she turns to look at me one last time. "And I appreciate everything you've done for me, nevertheless. I know it's not easy for you either, this thing with Adrian. It must be devastating to watch the man you love getting ready to marry someone else."

  As she leaves, the guard locks me in, as I realize just how right she is. The mental toll of watching Adrian with her has fucking destroyed me.

  But I don't love him.

  How could I love the man whose fault it is my entire family got slaughtered?

  33

  Adrian

  It's the night of my rehearsal dinner. We're still a way off from the wedding, but Father wants everything to go perfectly the night of. He's not taking any risks. And as much as I'm dreading this event, I’m excited as Marzia will be taking Nicoletta's role.

  My bride-to-be has retreated to her quarters with some mysterious illness I'm not privy too and Marzia has been thrust into wedding preparations, full-force. Since she has the same stature as Nicoletta, the seamstress is even making her try on all of Nicoletta's clothes, so she can make adjustments.

  As I check out my reflection in the mirror in my room, I find myself nervous about the outcome of the night. I know I'm going to have to be careful to hide my true feelings for Marzia. At least, Gustavo won't be there. I have a feeling nothing would escape his watchful gaze, especially with Nicoletta not deigning us with her presence.

  Straightening my tie, I smirk at my reflection. I look good and I fucking know it. Well, if Father is so i
ntent on going through with this charade, I'm going to make the most of it. I'm going to have some fun while I do it, too.

  The rehearsal party is in full swing by the time I come downstairs. I'm greeted and welcomed by business associates, ass-kissers and people who want something from me on my wedding day. It's hard to pay any of them the attention they so badly crave. I'm waiting for Marzia. My eyes are glued to the top of the stairs where she will soon appear, taking my fiancée's role.

  And Marzia doesn't disappoint.

  Half an hour after arriving at the party, I raise my eyes to the top of the stairs, and there she is, looking gorgeous as ever in a skintight white dress. The dress is long, tight, with a mermaid train. No sleeves, and clings to her curves in a way that makes my heart race and my cock tighten in my pants.

  I want her. In fact, I've never wanted her more.

  As I watch the rest of the people at the party watching her, drinking her in with hungry eyes, my hands tighten into fists. I fucking hate them looking at her, hate the way their eyes swallow her up as if she's some fucking treat for everyone to enjoy. The whispers follow next, people talking about her, noticing she isn't Nicoletta but instead, the heiress of the Da Costa family, whose fall from grace has been scandalous to say the least.

  Most of these people didn't know my father wiped out the Da Costas, but they do now. While their eyes follow Marzia as she comes down the grand staircase, I can smell the scent of fear in the room. They know what we're capable of now, and they're very fucking afraid, which suits me just fucking fine. At least they know if they so much as lay a hand on my woman, I'm going to fucking kill them. Marzia is mine and every time I catch someone looking at her, the urge to rip out their throat awakens inside me.

  I force myself to ignore the dark urge that makes me want to punish every man who looks at her. Instead, I wait for Marzia to join me, quietly admiring her as she stands by me.

  "You like the dress?" she asks in a low, throaty whisper. "Do you think I look better in it than Nicoletta would?"