Resist Me

by Samantha Lee

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Special Note

  Prolouge

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Preview

  Coming Soon

  Resist Me

  Samantha Lee

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2018 Samantha Lee

  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 permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Click or visit:

  www.authorsamanthalee.com

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 9781976728907

  There are so many people to thank with every book. To my friends and family, you all have been exceedingly helpful. Thank you for giving your time and encouragement. Writing is not a solitary effort, it takes a lot of teamwork to polish a book, and every book gets better and better, because of your support. To my readers, thank you for buying my books. I truly thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  This book is dedicated to Team Lee, thank you all for coming along with me on my author journey. Let’s keep growing together.

  Dear Readers,

  I am a cheeky author who likes to hide tid-bits about myself in my books. Do you remember the game “Where’s Waldo?” Sigh, did I just date myself…I digress. Anyway, I challenge you to find some of my hidden gems. The list below has a few clues to some of my “author tid-bits,” located throughout this book.

  Also, remember this…Daemon is pronounced Day-Mun not Demon, but this IS me being cheeky again, by giving a shout out to my first love, Paranormal Romance.

  Best Regards,

  Samantha Lee

  1. My Favorite Alcoholic Beverage (when I was younger mom…*crossies*)

  2. Favorite Flavored Water

  3. Favorite Chinese Foods

  4. My Birth Month and Day

  5. The Small City that I Call Home (miss and love you guys!)

  6. Favorite Qi Gong Move

  7. My Current AND Favorite Hairstyle

  8. One of My Biggest Fears

  Prologue

  Three Years Earlier

  Donnie Belmonte put his fork down and looked down the table at his sons. His lips curled in disgust, they were both disappointments. Stefano was happy being a nobody in the family, a god among the little people that followed him around. He had no designs to become something greater nor did he have the intellect to do so. He shouldn’t have let him become a boxer so young, he was sure someone knocked the sense and ambition right out of him. Then there was Donato, he tried hard, yet failed at everything. He had yet to successfully maintain an operation. Worse yet he heard what the Capo’s and soldiers thought about him. They thought he was a fool and a coward. He hadn’t killed a single person in his entire life. It was embarrassing. How could he take over as the head of a Crime Family if he refused to commit a fucking crime.

  Donnie looked at his wife. He was forced into the marriage with her, he loathed her for raising the two embarrassments. If they didn’t look like him, he would have questioned their lineage long ago. Donnie looked at his watch, Sandra should be here soon, she was his pride and joy. He held a deep affection for his daughter, but he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t talk about it because she came from a love match with a woman he met before he married his wife. He loved Sandra’s mother. She was everything a man like him could ask for. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, if it came to that, she didn’t judge his actions but supported him and his ambitions. She meant everything to him, but all good things must come to an end. He had to leave her, she wasn’t high in the Family, her father was a made man, a simple soldier, that wouldn’t do. He needed to combine strength with a stronger family to get to the top, and that was how he ended up in this loveless marriage with two disappointing sons.

  When he left Sandra’s mother he hadn’t known she was pregnant, he didn’t know she had his baby until she died in childbirth, naming him as the father in her living will. Donnie couldn’t raise Sandra in his household, that wasn’t done, but he set her up with a good family. He never denied her as his own, but he also never told anyone of her either. Well, nobody but his family, but things were different now. He wanted to make it up to her before he died, he would make things right with her and give her what she deserved. He would let her be the head of the Belmonte Family, but she had to win it. She had to fight for it on her own and win it by any means necessary, that was the only way the Family would accept her.

  “Pops, you’re not eating.” Stefano said.

  “Don’t fucking call me pops you ignorant fool.” Donnie answered.

  Stefano shrugged and went back to gracelessly shoveling food into his mouth.

  Donnie heard his daughter enter the dining room, “Papa,” he leaned in to receive his daughter’s kiss on his cheek. She sat on his right hand side. “Sorry I am late, Family business ran over.” Donnie patted her hand lovingly. He could count on her to take care of things. He looked at his wife, his affection slipped from his face.

  “Can you please leave? I need to speak to my children.” His wife stood and walked out of the dining room. He waited until he heard the door close and cleared his throat.

  “As you all know, I am getting old and I feel like it is time for me to decide on an heir, and slowly allow them to take over responsibilities.”

  Donato’s fork hit his plate, “I thought I was the heir, I am your underboss.”

  “Shut up! Petulant child.” Donnie said and continued his speech. “I have told the Family my intentions to name an heir and how I am going to determine my heir. The first one of you to take over the Carbonaro’s smuggling operation, meaning get their clientele to come to our operation, will be my heir. Or if for some reason something happens to one or more of you, the last child standing will become my heir.”

  Donato laughed, “Then I am the heir because Stefano won’t participate and Sandra is a half breed, nobody will accept her.”

  Donnie chose his words carefully, “That isn’t entirely true Donato, it hasn’t been done, but there isn’t anything saying she can’t be the new boss. If she wants it. But it would be in your benefit to win over the smuggling operation because nobody wants you to be the boss, due to you being a fucking coward.”

  “I am not a coward!” Donato said.

  Donnie’s brow raised, “Oh, but you haven’t committed one crime!” he slammed his fist down on the table. “You make others do your work for you.”

  Donato was genuinely confused, “Isn’t that what they are there for?”

  Donnie inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “My daughter has more balls than both of you combined.”

  Stefano disagreed, “I have pretty big balls pops.” Stefano and Donato laughed.

  Fucking idiots, Donnie thought to him
self.

  Sandra looked down at her watch, “I will help Donato takeover the Carbonaro’s operation. We can use our guy on the inside to help. Maybe he can get me into the operations somehow seeing that nobody knows you have a daughter and most people only know me as Lady Death.” Donnie winced at the reminder.

  Donnie didn’t know how to get her to see she could also try to become the head, she didn’t need to help Donato, she could help herself.

  “I will honor my agreement with all of you no matter which one of you comes to me at the end.” Donnie hoped she would remember his words, his beautiful deadly daughter. He gave her a kiss on her cheek, looked in disgust at his sons, and left the dining room for his study.

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  “Son of a bitch!” Yvette whispered at her iPhone as she fumbled with it trying to turn off the alarm before the sound woke her downstairs neighbor’s toddler, who had a knack for waking at a drop of a dime. “Stop, stop!” she said in an angry whisper as she fumbled with the buttons until it stopped its incessant blaring. Yvette rolled onto her back and listened for the neighbor’s kid, she heard nothing, she let out a sigh of relief, it was another successful morning of not pissing off her neighbors. Yvette lay in bed a little longer and wondered if she should call in sick. She hated her job. It was the bane of her existence. Yvette was the President of the company that shipped freight around the world, B&E shipping where the CEO Peter Jennings often called her, the President of the company, a glorified secretary. Yvette couldn’t figure out why he thought so low of her, she worked her ass off to make sure the business ran smooth. Peter on the other hand went to numerous golf meetings and luncheons only to return and yell things for her to do from his office. Every time she heard him yell, “Yvette,” she cringed. There were many days like today where she wanted to quit. She wanted to call in and tell Peter how she felt about him and exactly where he could put her job, but she needed to work, so she could live like a normal person who ate food and kept their lights on and gas in their car, the responsible shit.

  “Shit, gas,” she said to an empty room, she needed to stop for gas before she went to work. She jumped out of her comfortable bed and tripped over the cover that wrapped around her ankle. Yvette went down hard, and in less than ten seconds, she heard the wail of the small child downstairs. Yvette imagined the parents were shooting lasers at her through the ceiling. She sighed and tapped her head on the carpeted floor. She was getting the feeling that today would not be a good day.

  Yvette unraveled her ankle from the cover and draped it over the bed. She ran to her walk in closet and picked out a nice white blouse and black pencil skirt. She looked at her shoe choices, she wasn’t feeling like heels today, so she grabbed a pair of white tipped black flats. She rushed back into her bedroom and threw her clothes on the bed and ran to the bathroom for a quick shower. Yvette turned the shower to hot, she loved hot showers, the kind that made your skin feel like it’s burning, then either the water gets cooler or your skin adjusts and it’s bliss. Yvette let the water run for a few seconds before she jumped in, and was met with hard freezing pellets of water. “Ah!” she yelled and jumped back letting the cold water wash over her feet. “Well played,” she thought to herself. Her neighbors must have purposely ran the hot water leaving none for her. With that passive aggressive retaliation Yvette wasn’t feeling as apologetic about the crying baby. She had no other options, she needed to shower. So she stepped under the shower head teeth clenched and with grim determination. After freezing her ass off for the seven minutes it took for her to take a shower, Yvette emerged from the bathroom teeth chattering and body shivering even though she was wrapped in a large towel. Yvette sat at her vanity. She needed to unwind the twists she put in her hair the night before. Yvette was following a how to YouTube video and making an attempt to achieve the overnight seductive loose wavy curls, like the woman on the video. One look in the mirror and she was mortified. Her hair was a mess. It looked like a cross between a beehive and bird’s nest. She felt her anxiety rise, she couldn’t go to work like this, and she needed to leave in fifteen minutes, not nearly enough time to tame her frizzy half curled hair. She took a deep breath, “It will be fine,” she assured herself. This wasn’t her first time in a hair emergency situation, “One foot in front of the other Yvette.”

  Yvette brushed her teeth, then grabbed her clothes, and dressed. She ran a hand through her hair as she walked back to the vanity. She attacked her hair with vigorous brushing, pulling and geling. Fifteen minutes later her hair was in a tight ponytail. The style was very Saturday morning at the grocery store opposed to the striking diva she thought she would be this morning. Being a black woman came with a lot of maintenance, for starters, her hair. It never participated in any hairstyle she deemed becoming. It was tight and curly when she washed it and hurt like a son of a bitch to comb. Yvette had her go to hairstyle, she braided her hair at night in a few big braids and unbraided them in the morning. It made her hair look curly and ordered. Why she wanted to change, she didn’t know, but what she did know was that she wouldn’t be trying new hairstyles during the work week again.

  Yvette picked up her phone to check the time. Damn, she had to leave in the next five minutes if she wanted to be on time for work. Yvette walked to her kitchen to grab her purse. She usually left her purse on the counter in the kitchen. When she went to grab the handle her hand met air instead, her anxiety increased. Where did she leave it? Did she come home with it? Or did she leave her purse in the car?

  Yvette turned in a circle taking a quick survey of her home. She had an open floor plan. From where she stood in the kitchen, she could see the dining room and living room, “There you are,” Yvette spied the handle of her purse on the floor next to the couch. She rarely left her purse on the floor, but last night she had one too many glasses of wine, and if she remembered correctly, the night ended with her laying next to her purse asking it, “Why can’t I find a good man?” The purse held no answers for her. She grabbed the purse and headed for the door.

  ***

  Yvette knew traffic would be heavy because of the construction on 495. There was always construction on 495, Yvette was beginning to wonder if they would ever finish. Surprisingly, traffic was moderate until she made it to her last toll, she settled in preparing for the heavy traffic and pulled out her makeup bag to finish getting ready. Half an hour later she pulled her silver Lexus into her companies parking structure. She parked her car in her usual spot, five rows down from the CEO and jumped out. She had five minutes left to get into the building before she was late. Yvette walked to the underground elevator that would take her to the second floor skywalk. When she walked, she felt her skirt climb up her thighs. She pushed the button to call for the elevator and pulled her skirt down, it must have risen higher in the car.

  The elevator door binged and she stepped on. A few seconds later the door binged again, and she stepped off. She liked to get her favorite water from the small shop near where the elevator deposited her every morning. Yvette loved going into the small shop and saying hello to the old woman and her daughter that worked there. Whenever she came in they would say, “Hi Yvette.” Yvette would smile and start small talk, and they kept a steady supply of her favorite peach sparkling water. Without that water the chances of her being pleasant where non-existent.

  Yvette grabbed her water and walked down the stairs where Frank stood checking people into the building and providing directions. There was something about Frank, he smiled a lot but it never reached his eyes. His light banter with her was welcoming but you could tell he was always watching his surroundings, taking in the characteristics of one person, then moving to the next. He sometimes had an air about him that made him seem dangerous. He talked about his family or The Family a lot. Yvette asked him about his wife and he answered he didn’t have one. Confused she asked him about his family but he always ignored her question and asked her one instead. They would end up talking about her and she would
forget what she asked him. Eventually Yvette realized he didn’t want to talk to her about his family and stopped bringing it up. Yvette didn’t like talking about her family either. Remembering the dead was hard enough, talking about them made her wish they were still alive, and that was unbearable. Maybe Frank had a similar situation.

  For now, Yvette enjoyed having him around and listening to him talk. The only drawback about Frank was his need to gossip. He needed regular transfusions of gossip sessions or he would burst at the seams.

  “Heya Yvette.” Frank said. His dark hair was slicked back and he had on a black two piece suit. It wasn’t a name brand or even tailored. It was right off the hanger and one size too big. He looked like one of those men who lost a lot of weight, but hadn’t gotten around to buying new clothes, so he sort of drowned in them. Yvette smiled at him, no matter how second rate mafioso he looked, she adored him just the same.

  “Hey there Frank. How are you doing today?” she asked.

  “Fine.” He said and sat back in his chair folding his arms over his chest. “Except, the word is something is happening on your floor. Someone is getting fired.” Yvette was sure he had been holding that tidbit of information inside for a while and was bursting at the seams to tell someone. “Shit, I hope it isn’t me.” Yvette said.

  There were rumblings that her boss was in trouble with the board but she had thought nothing of it, she thought it was more water-cooler gossip than anything else. If he was the one being fired would they fire all those he hired and bring in new people? Her body shivered at the thought. Yvette always feared being unemployed. She was alone. She had a small savings, but that wasn’t enough, if they fired her with Peter. She couldn’t lose this job. She stood silent, her mind was racing, and Frank was talking, but Yvette wasn’t listening to what he was saying.