by K. L. Myers
Lost in L.O.V.
Love at Last: Book 2
KL Myers
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Cover Design © 2018 Designs b Dana
Formatting by Small Town Girl Formatting
All rights reserved. Without limiting the right under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Any characters, names, places, brands, media, and incidents are used solely in a fictitious nature based on the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to or mention of person, places, organization or other incidents is coincidental.
Contents
NOTE TO READER:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Finding L.O.V. (Book 3) Love At Last Series
Other Books by K.L. Myers
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Happy Birthday, Renee. Regardless of whether you’re writing a story, making swag, or just plain being a mom and wife, you are an amazing, strong, and inspirational person. I love you to pieces.
NOTE TO READER:
Lost In L.O.V. is Book 2 of the Love at Last Series, but the story originally begins with A Chance At Love (Bid On Love Series Anthology). It is highly recommended that you read the books in succession to grasp the full story of Lincoln, Angelo and Lillian.
ACAL can be purchased on Amazon or read through KU
Prologue
I was just eighteen when my father became the underboss to the Vicci crime family. Anthony Rizzuto was a name every capo feared in the organization, and rightfully so. He’d earned his place at the top when Salvatore Mangano stepped into the Consigliere role. I was a soldier under my father when he was Capo, and during that four years, I learned how to be a ruthless killer. I killed for the family when it was needed, never gave it a second thought and slept like a baby at night knowing that what I did protected those who were important to me. Francesco Vicci knew I was loyal to his family, and that was all that mattered.
On my twenty-second birthday, Mr. Vicci requested my presence. At the time, I couldn’t have imagined that he would bestow such an amazing honor on me. “Angelo, my boy,”—his voice was deep and booming—“you’ve proven to the family that your loyalty knows no bounds.” His hand clasped my shoulder as he walked past me to take the seat to my left. “I’ve got a job for you, son. It is the most important job that I would ask of anyone. Do you want to know what it is before you accept or decline?”
I knew better than to ask questions. When Francesco Vicci calls you into his office personally to tell you he has a job that he only trusts to you, you don’t question it; you accept it and be damn proud that a man like him trusts you. “No, sir, you don’t have to explain whatever it is. I’m your man.”
Francesco stood, moved around his desk, and took a seat in his chair, reclining back slightly. His dark black eyes bore straight into mine, almost making me a bit frightened about what he was going to ask of me. “Angelo, my daughter, Lillian, is at that age where she’s getting to be too big for her own britches. You, my son, will watch over her from here on out.” Francesco’s eyes narrowed on me. “With your life, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Vicci, I understand. I’m honored that you believe in me. With my life, sir, I will protect Lillian.” I remember the words as if it were yesterday.
“Eccellente, now go enjoy your last night of freedom. Starting tomorrow, you will be available to Lillian twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I will have the housekeeper make up a room for you across the hall from Lillian’s. She is your ward now. Now go.” And just like that, with a whisk of his hand, I was dismissed.
My first week with Lillian was less than pleasant. That girl was a handful just as her father said she would be. If I said the sky was blue, she’d argue that it was red. When I told her to wait for me at the door, she would push right through it. The two of us were going to have to find common ground if I was going to keep her safe and stay alive myself.
On her twelfth birthday, she stood before me, her tiny hands on her hips, and declared she didn’t need me as a babysitter. “I’m sick of you, Angelo,” she barked loudly at me with an angry scowl on her face that would have had me shaking in my shoes if I weren’t ten years her senior and one hell of a badass myself. I knew then my life was going to be turned upside down, and it did in more ways than I could have imagined. I’d lay my life down for hers—and trust me, there were several times when it almost came to that. Being the daughter and sole heir to Francesco Vicci made Lillian a prime target for his enemies, but there was no way in hell she’d die while being my ward.
In the four years that led up to her sixteenth birthday, Lillian stopped hating me along the way. She was not only my ward, but I became one of her closest confidants. It was hell keeping her little secrets from her father. I thank God that I’ve never been put in the position to have to lie to Mr. Vicci. That is something I would never do, and luckily, they were mere teenage pranks that she and Ashlynn got into and easily dismissed or covered up.
As she grew into a vibrant sixteen-year-old, she also grew bolder. Lillian found it amusing to constantly taunt me with her body and sexual suggestions. She wanted me to notice her as more than a child, and she was doing a damn good job of it.
I remember the night of Lillian’s birthday as clear as day. I stood off into the dark, watching her. All the families were present to help celebrate the girl turning into a young woman. I hadn’t heard her sneak up on me until her voice became a whisper in the air, floating to my ears.
“Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday, Angelo?” The twinkle in her eyes warmed my heart.
“Happy Birthday, piccolo ragazza.” I knew she hated when I called her little girl. It made her crazy because in her eyes she was a woman.
“Ah, come on, Angelo, you know you want to kiss me. Just one little kiss, please.” She was pushing my buttons, and she knew it. Her index finger twisted a piece of her mahogany locks in circles as she winked at me.
I leaned down and kissed the side of her cheek. “Like I said, Happy Birthday, piccolo ragazza.”
I’d been there for every milestone in her life. I’d accompanied Lillian and her mom on the day they’d bought her first bra at age fourteen. She’d stepped out of the dressing room wearing her jeans and only the bra. “What do you think? Does it fit right, Mother?” But her eyes had been trained on me.
“Dio mio, Lillian, get back in that room and stop showing yourself to everyone,” Isabella had barked at her daughter.
When Lillian had gone through the changes in life, I had been the person she’d confided in. “Ang, something’s wrong with me. I’m bleeding to death.” Her face had been frightened as she spoke.
I was a trained killer; I wasn’t cut out for this shit, but I did have a younger sister, so I took the time to explain what was happening and suggested she confide in her mother.
Over those four years, I could tell Lillian was developing feelings for me, and at first, it was adorable, but now, as she’d matured, I knew she needed to stop because I could only be tortured so far be
fore I broke. Only God knows that if I were ten years younger, she wouldn’t be safe with me, so lucky for me, I was much too old to act upon any thoughts she might have put in my head.
The night before Lillian’s eighteenth birthday, last night, she stood before me in nothing but a wife beater and a tiny pair of shorts. I’ve loved her from the moment she became my responsibility, but I can’t pinpoint the exact day when I fell in love with her. I’d known on her sixteenth birthday I was in trouble when she’d asked me for that kiss. I’d known she wouldn’t let me do my job without pushing her way into my heart, and as much as I fought it, it still happened. Her nipples stood erect, the color of her areolas showing through her white paper-thin tank top, and my traitorous body realized just how much she’d matured.
“I’m going to be eighteen tomorrow, Angelo. You know what that means, right?” Lillian lifted to her tiptoes to whisper in my ear, “I’m going to be a woman. I want you to be my first.”
I stepped back, away from her, placing a good two feet between us. “Not going to happen, piccolo ragazza,” I told her, but my dick was screaming “Holy fucking shit!”
I’d managed to keep her at arm’s length every time she’d flirted with me over the years and implied that she wanted more, but never had I ever expected her to say those words to me. As much as I loved to lean down and kiss those pouty, perfect lips, I knew that could never happen; she was just too young for me, and our families would kill me for even having the thoughts that were running through my mind. God help my soul that I can survive Lillian Olivia Vicci.
Chapter 1
Lillian’s Eighteenth Birthday
ANGELO
Lillian turns eighteen today. She’s been my responsibility for the last six years. Not a day has gone by when I haven’t been impressed by the young woman she’s become. I was twenty-two when her father declared I’d be her protector, and in the last two thousand one hundred and ninety days there hasn’t been one single day when she hasn’t made keeping her safe a challenge. She’s strong-minded, independent, and has grand ideas of what her future will be. Unlike the other daughters of the families, Lillian doesn’t want to be married off; no, she fantasizes about going to college and becoming a doctor. I’ve been privy to every one of the conversations between her and her dad, and each of them ended with a slamming door after her father gives her a firm NO.
If I were a betting man—and I’m not—my money would be on Lillian. She has her father so wrapped around her finger that even though he’s said no, I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t win in the end. I raise my finger to the collar of my neck and slide it between my skin and the knot of the tie, pulling at it slightly. I hate wearing a suit and tie, but tonight’s event requires that I fit in with all the others. “Hey there, handsome,” Ashlynn, Lillian’s best friend, says as she walks past me, slapping me on the ass. Between her and Lillian, I’m not sure who is worse. I don’t find Ashlynn as attractive as Lillian, but she, too, has shown her interest in getting to know me better over the years.
“Watch it, Ashlynn, you’re still small enough for me to turn you over my knee and spank the crap out of you, and I know your father would love to give me the honors.” I didn’t mean it to sound creepy, but as I watch her smile and lick her lips, I know exactly how she took my statement.
Both Ashlynn and Lillian have had childish crushes on me for years. Neither of them sees the bigger picture; their fathers would rip me limb from limb if I even looked twice at either of them. Mr. Esposito has nothing to worry about from me; Ashlynn isn’t remotely my type. But Lillian declaring she wants me to be her first last night has my mind wandering in many directions. None of them I’d ever act upon, but it didn’t stop me from fantasizing about her in my dreams last night.
The Vicci estate is packed tonight with members from all the families, here to celebrate and break bread. Anybody who's anyone is here because no one would ever think to turn down an invite from one of the most powerful men in Brooklyn. To say no to Francesco Vicci would be like signing your death warrant. Lillian descends the staircase in a pale pink strapless dress. She may be eighteen, but she looks like a woman in her twenties. She commands attention as she enters the room and silence takes over. Her tits peek over the top of her dress, teasing me with visions of what could be if I gave in to my desires.
“Welcome, everyone!” Mr. Vicci walks to stand beside Lillian. His voice is loud, causing every person in the room to immediately quiet down. “Tonight, we celebrate my beautiful Lillian. God blessed me eighteen years ago with her presence, more than a man like me deserves. Let’s raise our glasses and toast my darling Lillian.”
Glasses are raised around the room in acknowledgment of Francesco’s toast. I, however, keep my eyes trained on the crowd, watching for anything out of the ordinary. Tonight would be a prime night for a rival family to strike. It’s not the Italians I’m worried about; it’s the Ukrainians. They are so unpredictable that I wouldn’t put it past them to advance their position by trying to take out the heads of the families in one night. I would gladly welcome killing any of them if it came down to it.
Several times tonight I’ve caught Vincent Esposito looking way too long at Lillian with what I’m sure are dirty thoughts; it’s written all over his face, and I can see it in his eyes. She’s of age now, a time when two families could strengthen their bond by binding a son and a daughter together in marriage. It’s no secret that the Esposito and Vicci families have already started to plan a marriage of the two families; only Lillian has no interest in Vincent, and I would love to break his legs and arms for even thinking what I know he is thinking. After all, I am a red-blooded man, and I’ve had those same thoughts about her lately.
“Angelo.” My name floats through the air, capturing my attention. Lillian stands before me; her hand reaches out to mine. “Come with me. Father has agreed to meet with me, and I need you for support.”
This is it. I knew she wouldn’t wait till tomorrow to ask for permission to attend Stanford; she already received her acceptance letter and has been anxiously waiting to ask her dad to allow her to go. The day her letter came in, Lillian pulled me aside. I knew something was up because I only see the light in her eyes shine so brilliantly when she talks about being away from all the drama of her family.
“I’m in, Angelo, Stanford accepted me. We can go far away from all this madness and be together in California. No uptight Ivy League school. I hear the professors there are casual and laid back; some of them even show up to teach classes in shorts and T-shirts. God has answered my prayers, Angelo.”
I’m surprised she’s waited this long to spill the news. Her hand tugs on mine just as it did when she was thirteen and pulled me toward the lion exhibit at the Bronx Zoo. My chest tightens for a moment as I remember how much of her life I have been involved in. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have let myself get so close to her. I was to protect her, not fall in love with her. But falling in love is what I’ve done. Little by little she weaseled her way under my skin and into my heart, and someday I know she’ll also break it.
When we walk into Mr. Vicci’s office, I am surprised to see Isabella sitting next to her husband. “Come and sit,” she speaks to her daughter, patting the seat next to her. I close the door and take my place standing beside it, back rigid and expecting the worst.
“Lillian,” Mr. Vicci says, “what is so important that you couldn’t wait till after the party?”
“Father,” Lillian says as she holds out a piece of paper. I don’t recall her having that in her hands when she came to get me, but there it is. “I got accepted to Stanford.” She smiles. “I’m going, Father.” She didn’t ask permission; no, she told her father, and I can see the anger build in his face as he reads her acceptance letter.
“Who gave you permission to apply to college? That is not what your future holds, Lillian. You know this,” Mr. Vicci barks, and the sound of his anger reverberates off the walls.
“No one, Father, but I’m going.
I want more for myself than to be Vincent’s wife.” Lillian pauses for a moment but continues before her father gets an opportunity to speak. “I know what has been planned for me, but I want to choose my own destiny, Father. I’m better than being someone’s wife.” Lillian looks at her mom, her eyes begging for help. “Years ago, I get it, being a wife and tying two families together was how it was done, but not this time, not now, and not with me.”
Mr. Vicci begins to speak, but Isabella speaks up, interrupting him. “There is nothing wrong with being the wife of a man you love, Lillian.”
Lillian opens her mouth to argue but is cut off by her mother. “I know you do not love Vincent. You two have been nothing more than friends, but the families have always hoped that it would change. Though I fear it has not, am I right?”
Lillian shakes her head, acknowledging her mother. “It hasn’t, Mother. I think of Vincent as a brother, not a husband. I want to be a doctor. It’s all I’ve thought about growing up, but I was afraid to tell you both. I know I can be good at it. Please don’t deny me this opportunity.”
Isabella takes the paper from her husband's hand, which surprisingly, he gives willingly. Mr. Vicci sits quietly, watching the two women he loves most in life discuss the future of the Vicci family. Every time he starts to speak, Isabella squeezes his knee, and he holds his tongue. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him not command the room, let alone bow to his wife.