Owned by the Mob (Bianchi Crime Family Book 3)

by C. M. Steele

  After packing away some food and setting a plate for myself, I call up our surveillance company for a late-night job. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let her be there without added security.

  Chapter Six

  Ivy

  The sun is up. “The sun is up!” Panic floods right through me. I’m wrapped up in sheets that aren’t mine, and then yesterday comes to mind. Niccolò brought me here, and I started to eat but fell asleep. Oh my God. I demanded to bring bread to bed. I look over at the still uneaten pieces and close my eyes, tipping my head to the sky. Could I have been any more ridiculous?

  Shit. I have to open the café before there’s a revolt. Where is my phone? I climb out of bed, wearing my clothes from yesterday, but my worn-out bra is on the floor. Please tell me I didn’t take it off in front of him.

  A knock at the door startles me. “Yes?”

  “Can I come in?” a woman’s voice says, throwing me for a loop. I tuck the bra under the sheets, hoping she doesn’t notice I’m braless. What if he’s married? Would he bring me here if he was?

  “Um…” The door opens before I can say yes. It’s Aria with a little baby in her arms. Oh God, they’re married. I think I’m going to be sick. Then I remember he said Aria’s his sister-in-law. My brain is fuzzy.

  “Hi, Ivy. Sorry to intrude like this, but men are stupid sometimes. I told Nico that I’d take you to the café.”

  “It’s probably shut down by now with people picketing it.”

  “Nope. It’s open and I got my coffee this morning, so I chewed him out when I heard you weren’t in and he didn’t let you know.”

  I like her more and more, especially because she’s married to his brother and not with Niccolò. “I can’t believe he let me sleep.”

  “You needed it.” I’m sure that wasn’t meant as a dig, but I felt the sting. There’s not enough makeup in the world to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I open my purse which is on the nightstand.

  “My phone?” I ask, since it’s not in my purse or my alarm would have gone off.

  “It’s on the charger in the kitchen… powered off. He said he didn’t want your alarms to wake you.”

  “So who opened the café?”

  “Your employees and Nico. He brought in two additional girls to work.” My temper rages as I wonder if he’s banging them. He just knew two females to work there doesn’t make any sense.

  “You’re not supposed to work today. His orders, but you—” The baby fusses in her arms. “Listen, mister, you better behave,” she says in a singsong voice. The little baby smiles at her, and I’m floored while my ovaries scream for a baby. I’ve always wanted children, but with my life such a disaster I didn’t think it would be possible.

  “Wow. He’s adorable.”

  “Thank you. Luca, say hi to your zia,” Aria tells him with a sweet tone. He smiles and babbles, bubbles forming from his lips.

  “Zia?” I ask.

  “It’s ‘aunt’ in Italian.”

  “I’m not… I mean, Niccolò and I aren’t…” I protest, attempting to find the words to explain our relationship. She’s got the wrong idea when it comes to our relationship.

  “Okay…” She rolls her eyes while bouncing the baby on her hip. “Whatever you say.”

  Unwilling to argue about it, I change the subject. “What am I supposed to do with a day off?”

  “Relax. You could use some retail therapy, or read a book. I’d say we harass Mariana because we have some last-minute wedding plans to work on.”

  “Who?” Please tell me she’s related to them.

  She huffs, throwing up her free hand in frustration. “Nico didn’t tell you? This weekend, Mariana and Nero are getting married.”

  “Who?” I haven’t the faintest idea who these people are.

  “Did you two actually speak at all? Come.” She takes my hand, and with her power heels on and with the baby in one arm, she leads me to the fireplace mantel. “This is from my wedding to Domani.”

  It’s a group of handsome people. Damn, Niccolò was right. He and his brother look a lot alike. “This is Nero.”

  “Wow, everyone is so damned good looking.” I put the frame back on the mantel, feeling extremely out of my element, not that I had one to begin with.

  “I know, right?”

  “Amore.” A growl comes from behind us.

  “Domani, what are you doing here?” We turn around as he approaches.

  “I came to make sure you were safe.” He takes his son and then pulls Aria in for a deep, long kiss. My eyes widen and I gasp, a bit confused because if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was Niccolò kissing her. “You must be Ivy. I’m Domani Bianchi.” He doesn’t shake my hand but he does give me a smile, clinging to his wife like she’s going to escape. These men are lady killers for sure.

  “You’ll have to excuse my husband. He can be insanely protective of me.” Her eyes do another lap as she explains about the man beside her.

  He shrugs and then kisses her cheek. “That’s true, but you must understand that without you, I’m nothing.” Seriously, they are too much to handle.

  “I thought you were working.” She raises her brow, questioning his actions.

  “I was, but I had some matters that needed to be handled, and now I’m headed into the office.”

  “Okay. Give me Luca so you can go to work.”

  “One more kiss, amore.” He kisses her again and then hands over his son, who he kisses on the top of his head.

  “Pa-pa,” Luca says, stretching his arms out for his daddy. It’s too freaking adorable and clearly pulls at Domani’s heartstrings.

  “Do you want to come with Papa?” he asks, taking him back.

  “Sucker,” Aria teases.

  “For the two of you,” he says, looking at her while holding his baby close. Thoughts of Niccolò treasuring our baby go to my head. Where that image came from is foolish. It’s not that I haven’t had fantasies of him before, but now I’m his payment for a debt. I’m at his bidding and not the love of his life. Their relationship seems enviable.

  “You don’t have to take him with.”

  “I’ll be in the office, so it’s fine. He has his play yard thing there, anyway.”

  “Are you sure?” He tilts his head, pointedly letting her know that he’s more than sure. “Fine, but call me if he’s too much trouble and I’ll get him.”

  “My son? Trouble?” He swats his hand in the air and shakes his head.

  She rolls her eyes at him and then they kiss again.

  “Be good for Papa.” He swoops up the baby’s diaper bag, and they leave us. I’m shocked to see that brute turn into a marshmallow.

  “He’s a good man, despite his occupation,” she says, looking at me while I stare at the door.

  “So do you want to get in the shower and stuff so we can meet Mariana? Are you hungry?” I wonder how much caffeine she has in any given day.

  “A little,” I say.

  “Well, Nico said there’s a bunch of food to reheat. I’ll do it while you get ready. Maybe we can have Mariana meet us over here. I think that will be a better idea. There are more places to shop over here.” She answers herself before I can get a word out.

  “Um… okay.” I wonder if this Mariana thinks Aria’s a bit overly sweet and demanding at the same time. Still, it’s nice to have someone to talk with, which is a whole new experience. I’m constantly too busy to socialize with the girls at the cafe.

  I smile and walk back into the bedroom and then walk toward the bathroom. Just like everything around this condo, the bathroom is immaculate and amazing. I quickly shower and wrap one of his uber fluffy towels around my body.

  I know he has clothes for me here, so I open the closet door to see double the clothes I normally owned. Still, most of this is stuff I would wear on any given day. There are some pretty party dresses, and I wonder if Aria had a hand in that as well.

  Seeing that Aria’s in a cute pair of jeans and a pretty dress
shirt with a matching short jacket, I find something casual as well. Thankfully, there are a pair of cute Vans that work with this outfit.

  “Don’t you look adorable,” she says. “Seriously, I should take a picture and send it to Nico. He’s going to flip. You’re too hot for his own good.”

  “We’re not together,” I insist.

  “That’s what we all said.”

  My eyes shoot open as I process what she’s saying. “So you were all coerced?”

  “Not really. I technically was in love with my husband long before our arranged marriage.”

  “What?”

  “I was coerced.” We turn around to see who’s speaking. Damn—Niccolò’s door isn’t very secure since everyone has a key.

  “Ah, there you are.” Aria walks past me to the beautiful auburn-haired woman who I’ve never seen before at the café and gives her a hug.

  “Yes, Nero just dropped me off after Dom told him where you were at.” She turns to me. “I’m Mariana Conlon.” We shake hands and then her eyes land on the dishes Aria’s taken out of the fridge and says, “Damn, pasta for breakfast. This family is going to make me fat.” She rubs her flat stomach.

  “I’ve said the same thing, but our men make sure we work it off.” She winks at Mariana, and they giggle.

  Seeing that I’m aghast by their men demanding they lose the weight, Aria says, “Sex, Ivy. Our men love us, and especially when we’re naked. Just wait until you’re pregnant. They can’t seem to keep their hands off you. Domani loves it, so now I’m pregnant with another one.”

  “I can’t believe this. You all know that Niccolò and I aren’t a couple. My stepfather sent my business into debt, and they are helping me out of it.”

  “I told you she was adorable,” she says to Mariana, getting a nod in return. I just roll my eyes at these two. Partly because they don’t listen and also because I kind of want it to be true. If Niccolò wanted more than just the money owed, goodness. I can’t even fathom that. My heart’s racing just thinking about him kissing me the way his brother was all over Aria.

  “So how about we eat and then talk wedding stuff?” Mariana says.

  “I’m not marrying Niccolò,” I blurt out, wondering if I said my thoughts out loud.

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it.” I huff. “Okay, I have to go. I need to head into the café and see how it’s running. It’s really nice to talk to you both, but I’m not in the same position.”

  “Nico won’t be happy about you going to work,” Aria says with a look of frustration. Was she tasked to keep me at home?

  “Well, who gives a shit? Not me. Frankly, I’m not happy with him,” I add. I steal another piece of garlic bread and pick up my purse.

  “Don’t forget your phone. I’ll have Tony take you to the café.”

  “Who’s Tony?”

  “He works for the family, and we completely trust him. Now have a good day, and give him hell,” Mariana says, giving me a wink before sticking her fork into the tray of pasta.

  These women are confusing. I leave the house and get downstairs where a forty-year-old man in a suit meets me. “Hello, Mrs. Bianchi, I’m Tony D. I’ve been asked to take you to your café.”

  “I’m not… never mind. Let’s just go.” I’m done correcting these people. He opens the back door of a large black SUV, and I climb in the backseat.

  “Would you care for some music?” he asks after smoothly sliding into the driver’s seat.

  “Um… no, thank you.”

  “Do you usually drive their women around?”

  “Not Aria because Luigi takes her around, but I’m available when needed.”

  “What about Niccolò’s other women?” I see his face through the mirror, and he’s fighting back a smile.

  “Mr. Bianchi doesn’t date, ma’am.”

  “Oh. Yes. Well. Okay.” I don’t know how to respond to that bit of information or even how to process it. What does that mean? Does he have random hookups, or does he hook up with the prostitutes these mob guys have at their clubs? Maybe he drives himself when he does it.

  I don’t even want to ask those questions, and I hate the way it makes me feel to consider it. Where was he the past two days? He never said what he was doing when he wasn’t in the café. I sit back, looking out the window.

  A CTA bus stops to let passengers on as we pass by, and I feel blessed to have a ride. Some days taking a bus can be hell, although it’s just cool enough outside to feel good to walk. Since it’s the middle of May, the temps are starting to pick up, but today is in the sixties.

  “Are you well, Mrs. Bianchi?”

  “You can call me Ivy, Tony,” I say, avoiding his question.

  “Thanks, ma’am.” Again, he doesn’t call me Ivy. I power on my phone and see a message from Niccolò. I hope you slept well. Things are running smoothly.

  They always run smoothly. That’s not the problem; the damn loss of income is the problem. I want to scream at him because he thinks he can just invade my space and solve all my damn problems, and yet at the same time, I want him to fix everything.

  “We’re here, Mrs. Bianchi.” I don’t acknowledge him as I step out of the vehicle with my purse. When I step inside, I find a new person behind the counter.

  “Hello, welcome to Ivy’s Café. I’m Marie—how can I help you?” The cute girl smiles at me with a youthful happiness that upsets my jaded soul.

  “I’m Ivy. Where is Niccolò?” My tone comes out a little harsher than I mean it to.

  “Mr. Bianchi is in the back.”

  “Thank you,” I add, hoping to soften my bitchiness. I walk around and through the back to find Ella staring at Niccolò, who is bent over checking the boxes. They both turn to me. She blushes, and he smiles.

  Although my anger’s with him, she earns my glare. In the pit of my stomach, jealousy burns me to the core. Since he walked in the first day, I didn’t like the way she watched him. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  “I was just seeing, um… I’ll go see if they need help.”

  “Damn, Sugar. You’re not completely sweet. I like when the claws come out.” He closes the distance and pulls me into his arms. “I know you’re mad at me, but I need you.” His mouth comes down on mine, and all questions and retorts leave my brain as I slide my fingers upward over his shoulders and then into his hair.

  He releases my mouth, growling, “Fuck. So sweet.” I think he’s going to back away, but before I know it I’m off my feet and he carries me into my office. My ass lands on the desk and then his hands cup my face. “There’s much to discuss, but I need another taste.” We kiss until I finally push him away and take a deep breath.

  “Sorry, Ivy.”

  “What was that about?”

  “I thought it was obvious.”

  “Yes, but I thought this wasn’t about the debt.”

  “Kissing you is what I’ve wanted to do since the moment I saw you step out onto the floor. None of my attraction has anything to do with the debt. Fuck—if anything, it’s a hinderance. Your stepfather deserves to meet the end of my gun, but I won’t hurt you like that.” Did he just say he was going to kill my stepfather? I should be pissed about it, but I’m not. In fact, I almost feel relieved.

  With my arms crossed, I stare at Niccolò, attempting to read him as I ask, “Um… so what was Ella doing back here?”

  “Who is that?”

  Is he fucking serious? I glare at him and repeat his words back to him. “Who is that? My employee who was just in here, staring at you intently.”

  “Oh, her. She said she wanted to learn how to take inventory, and honestly, I forgot she was even in the room. Everyone can tell you that when I work, my focus is hard to break. Well, except where you’re concerned. I can’t think when you’re nearby. Hell, I fucking can’t concentrate when you’re not close.”

  Unable to process his declaration, I challenge it. “I’m supposed to just believe that? You stole half the business.”

 
He cups my face, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “I didn’t steal it. Technically, he put it up as collateral. When someone doesn’t pay the bill, it’s repossessed in most businesses.”

  Damn it. He has a point. We had our car repossessed last month. “But he’s been paying the mortgage and the bills, and we don’t have the money.”

  “Sugar, I was told that you’re terrible at math, which makes it ironic because I live for numbers, but I digress. I’ve gone through your daily numbers and after tallying the past week, you’ve earned over ten thousand dollars of profit. You are one of the most popular cafés in the area. You should be making money hand over fist. Hell, do you know what this is?”

  He waves a paper in front of me, which I snatch and read.

  Setting it back on the desk, I nod. “It’s our coffee cup supplier invoice,” I say. I’ve seen it a thousand times over the years.

  He shows me another paper in his hand. “No, this is your coffee cup supplier invoice. I called asking for the past six months of invoices, and they emailed them over. Do you see the difference?”

  “About six thousand dollars a month.” The words fall out of my mouth, but I’m still processing it.

  “Yes. That’s just one of the many forged invoices. Vincent has been fixing them, so that he pockets and blows the profits.”

  “My stepfather told me it was the economy and inflation. I’ve considered raising prices, but I figured it was too much and I would lose money.”

  “Your prices are what drive people in here. Hell, the coffee’s great too, but you were wise not to raise the prices. You may lose a third of your customers and not recoup the losses. Spending dollars to save pennies. Now that I’ve made it so your father is never allowed to step on these premises again, things will look up financially.”

  “He’s dead,” I gasp. I don’t know how I feel about that, but it’s not sadness.

  “No, but he will be if he tries to come here. All the locks have been changed, and cameras have been installed. Your profits will soon turn around.”

  “But how will I get out of debt? There’s just so much. You and your family, Wells Fargo, Bank of America, and whoever else he made back-alley deals with.”