Owned by the Mafia Bad Boy (Book Five)

by Raven Dark

  I put the phone away and walked with Gala down the wide marble hall to the front door of her fabulous house.

  “Any progress on your father?” She opened the door, and we stepped out onto her porch, taking seats on the swing there. David hadn’t pulled up to the mansion yet.

  “Nothing yet. I’ve tried to limit myself to one call up to Lakewood every day. The doctors must hate me by now.”

  “I’m sorry.” She squeezed my shoulder. “Have you guys found any hints as to who cut the brakes on Kane’s car?”

  “Uh uh.” The memory of the crash, how close I came to losing Kane, flashed through my mind and I shuddered. I still felt sick to my stomach when I thought about it. “David tried looking into the car, but the fire burned away any evidence of who might have cut the brake line. He got hold of the cameras in the lot at Lakewood, but whoever the guy was hired to sabotage the car, he knew where the cameras were. There were no clear shots of his face.”

  “Damn. What about your mystery woman? Any leads on who she is?”

  I shook my head. “We turned up nothing. It’s like she’s a ghost. I can’t imagine why anyone in the Ferrara family would want us dead. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “You’ll find the woman. I know it.”

  “David insists on teaching me to drive, but he’s training me like I’m in special ops or something. Last week, he taught me how to jump out of a moving car.”

  She laughed. “That sounds like David. And I’m guessing Kane won’t let you out of his sight. Last year, an obsessed fan tried to deliver a bomb to my dressing room. It never went off, dad’s guards found it first, but when Kane heard about it, he wouldn’t let me go anywhere alone for a month.”

  “Yeah, that’s Kane. He put a guard on me at the hospital for Christ’s sake.”

  I won’t lie, it was weird, talking chummy with the woman Kane was supposed to marry. But it also felt oddly therapeutic, having someone to talk to about the man I loved, someone I didn’t have to lie to or keep secrets from. Someone who understood the way things had to be, who wouldn’t judge. I wanted that person to be Fran, wished I could have sat like this telling my best friend about the most important man in my life, but I couldn’t without endangering all of us. It was strangely bittersweet that Gala and I should become friends, considering what bound us together.

  A few minutes later, David pulled up. Gala gave me a quick hug. “See you in a couple of days for more training.”

  I dropped my shoulders; if only I could be as sure as her. I hugged her tight.

  “We got this. It’s going to be all right. Promise.”

  I almost believed her.

  * * * * *

  How many times do I have to stalk you before you tell me what’s going on?” Fran leaned on the break room counter an hour later, arms folded.

  I offered her a lame smile. She’d left texts and voice messages on my phone the last two days, since my training session with Gala. I didn’t blame her for being worried. Sooner or later, I’d have to tell her a lot more than I was.

  Quickly, I tried to think what Kane would do when faced with questions he couldn’t answer. Getting information out of him when he didn’t want to give it was like pulling teeth. Right, he would have used humor, or put the question back on me. I put my burned, black hospital coffee in the microwave.

  “I think you have to breathe heavy or make death threats for it to be stalking, Fran.”

  “Don’t hedge with me, Chiquita. I can tell when I’m being avoided.”

  It took all my effort, but I leaned on the counter, keeping my eyes on the small flat screen TV mounted on one wall, exactly as I’d seen Kane do to me when I pressed where he didn’t wish. Since we’d argued the other night, he’d been doing that a lot more, giving me the silent treatment.

  Fran crossed the room and leaned on the counter beside me, her tar-black coffee in hand. Her dark eyes bored into the side of my head; I could feel them without having to see them. My stomach churned.

  For one thing, I wanted so badly to tell her what was going on in the complicated mess that had become my life. My father was in a coma, from which he might never wake up. The man I loved would hardly look at me because I wouldn’t agree to give the rest of my life to him, while he prepared to marry another woman. I was taking training sessions with his fake fiancé on how to pretend to be a slave who was pretending to be an assistant so that his father didn’t try to kill us. There was a faceless, nameless woman from the mob who wanted my father and I dead. And the only reason one of the most powerful kingpins in the world wasn’t feeding us to the fishes was because he knew we’d tell every other equally dangerous Don in the city he was a rat. And for another thing, I could practically hear what she was thinking.

  When her waiting silence was too much to stand, I finally looked at her. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “I can’t talk about stuff.”

  “You used to be able to.”

  “I know.”

  “I—” Fran stopped and nodded to the TV. “Whoa. Check that out.”

  I glanced at the TV. My stomach dropped. One of those entertainment shows was on, and reporters clamored outside a theater where a who’s who of famous celebrities gathered. Arm in arm, the focus of their attention walked out of the posh theater. Cameras flashed as Kane and Gala made their way down a red carpet toward Kane’s limo. Kane gave his usual cool smile to the crowd, and Gala’s long white dress draped her slender form in a column that glittered as if it were dotted with tiny stars. She smiled her sparkling, trained smile to the crowd, one I only knew was fake because I knew she hated public attention.

  “An interesting relationship you two have,” Fran said flatly. “Here you are at work, while he’s off at some play with his bride to be.”

  I whipped around, and when the microwave I beeped, I jerked it open, taking out my piping hot coffee, nearly burning my hand in the process. “I told you, it’s not what it looks like.”

  “Right. Then what the hell is that?”

  I followed her gaze back to the TV. Reporters clamored around the couple as Gala posed for them, the picture of trained poise and beauty. Kane’s arm was also around her waist, and as they turned to get into the limo, he set his hand on her bare back, the way he often did with me.

  My insides knotted as I imagined what Fran saw. Friends didn’t hold or touch each other like that. Suddenly I knew what it must have felt like for Kane when I had believed they were really a couple. I wanted to tell Fran the truth, but doing so not only meant revealing Gala’s secret. It would mean blowing both her and Kane’s covers.

  Damn. Kane would have gotten out of Fran’s questions easily, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her that wouldn’t make it worse. Instead, I stirred my coffee. Too late, I saw Fran eying my wrist. The faint red marks from the cuffs Kane had used on me last night discolored my skin. I jerked the sleeve of my hospital scrubs down, and my face flamed.

  “Is that…” She trailed off, eyes wide. “Wow.”

  “Don’t. Just don’t.”

  “That’s really hot.”

  I sighed because I knew what was coming next.

  “Do you suppose he does the same with her? Miss Not What It Looks Like?”

  “Fran, stop it.” I gritted my teeth. “I can’t discuss it.”

  “So you’ve said.” She dumped out the rest of her coffee. Break was almost over, but it felt like she was ending something else too. “Look. When you get your self-respect back, let me know. Make it soon. Cause I miss you.”

  As soon as Fran was gone, I swept the coffee I hadn’t drunk into the sink, letting it splatter across the steel basin.

  Unfortunately, not for the first time, I had a sinking feeling she’d let the argument go far too easily. Knowing Fran, if I didn’t tell her the truth soon, she’d do something drastic, all in the name of helping me.

  * * * * *

  I was still seething when I went to my
first patient after break, a woman with a swollen wrist, sitting in triage. Her paperwork said her name was Rachel Davenport. Garish black hair was piled on top of her head, the kind of black women used when they’re trying too hard to cover gray. Expensive rings glinted on every finger, and everything about her screamed wealth.

  “Wow. That looks like a nasty one, Miss Davenport. Come with me.” I gave her my name and led her into an examining room. “How did that happen?”

  The woman didn’t seem to have heard me. Her piercing blue eyes perused me, gaze landing on my face again with an intensity that sent a shiver up my spine.

  “Unbelievable.” She spoke in an awed whisper. “You look so much like her.”

  “Like who?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then shook herself as if she’d only then realized she’d spoken at all. “Er, nothing, nurse. You just look familiar. And call me Rachel.”

  I nodded and indicated for her to sit down while I went over her information on her chart. “You didn’t tell them how you hurt your wrist when you came in.”

  “Oh. I fell down the stairs. Clumsy me.” She gave one of the fakest laughs I’d ever heard.

  I resisted the urge to point out the obvious, that she’d managed to tumble down a set of steps without sustaining any other injuries, making that the lamest story she could have come up with.

  Here’s the thing. As a nurse, you see this kind of stuff a lot. People whose stories don’t match their injuries. Usually, the reason turns out to be either gang related or the result of domestic violence. If this quaffed, fur-toting, fifty-something woman was in a gang, I was a supermodel. And something about her told me if anyone tried to hit her, they wouldn’t live long enough to regret it. So why would she lie?

  “Here, let me look at your wrist.”

  She held her wrist up, still staring at me with that unsettling closeness. Was it just me, or did she seem completely unphased by her injury? I looked it over.

  “Well, it looks like a break, but we’ll have a doctor X-Ray it to make sure. He should be in any second.”

  “Thank you, Anika.”

  I froze on my way to the door. Something about the way she said my name sent ice cold fingers snaking up my spine.

  “Sure. You won’t be waiting long for the doc.”

  As soon as I was in the hall and had shut the door to the room, I let out a breath. It had felt like all the air had been sucked out of that room.

  I also couldn’t shake the feeling that woman had broken her wrist on purpose.

  I swear, if I could have stopped time and made the charity auction never happen, I would have. If my father wouldn’t make the whole affair miserable enough for Anika, my mother would certainly get the job done. I could handle whatever shit they threw at me. I was used to the nightmare. Anika didn’t deserve to be dragged into it, but the alternative was worse. I couldn’t appear to be protecting her, from them, or anything else. The only bright side was, neither of my parents could hurt here with so many people around.

  “Are you alright, angel?” I sat next to Anika in the limo, hating the feel of her hand shaking in mine. Hating that I couldn’t take away her fear.

  “I’m fine.” She almost looked it, too, glancing out the tinted windows as we drove toward the reception hall my assistant had rented for the event.

  “It’s only us.” I set my hand on her back. “I told you, you don’t have to be brave all the time.”

  “And I told you, I do. I’m fine. Mind numbing fear is a good thing. It keeps you on your toes.”

  I ran my thumb over the smooth area between her shoulder blades, massaging away the tension there. She’d worn the same dress Min had spent so long fitting her for the other day, one that left her creamy shoulders and the slope of her gorgeous, smooth back bare. The shirt flared to her feet in a shimmer of silver. There was a simplicity to the gown compared to what some of the other ladies would wear tonight, allowing her not to take the attention from those who were supposed to be above her station, but it was still elegant. Then again, Anika could have worn a burlap sack, and she’d still be the most gorgeous woman there.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you tonight, I promise. Just remember what I told you. Don’t allow either of my parents to get you alone. I will be with you when I can.”

  She gave a jerky nod. “When will you be giving your speech?”

  “I’m scheduled to be at the podium at nine. Gala and the other models will be on the runway as soon as I say my closing statement, which is when the guests will start bidding.”

  “So, how does this work? Is it an auction? The models show off the clothing, and then the guests bid on the same clothes?”

  “Yes. The money they spend on the clothing goes to the charity.”

  “But you mentioned you and some of the others would donate.”

  “A lot of high profile people show up to these events and donate vast amounts in addition to the money raised from the auction.”

  “How…how much are you donating?” The first flicker of humor showed in her eyes.

  “Never mind, Anika.”

  “What, no bragging? Who are you, and what have you done with Kane?”

  “Unlike my father, I don’t give to the needy to bolster my image. I wouldn’t even show up at these things, but Gala is in the auction.”

  Surprise registered in her eyes, and, dare I say it, respect. She pressed her lips together, looking like she’d never seen me before.

  “Speechless, angel? There’s a first.”

  Her jaw tightened. If she’d meant to rebuff me, she didn’t get the chance. The limo stopped at the hall, and David let us out.

  As I helped Anika out of the car, she blew out a breath. Her eyes closed, and I could have sworn I saw her lips move as she counted. What was that about? Then, just before she straightened beside me, her expression changed, becoming so blank it almost didn’t look like her.

  I narrowed my eyes. I’d never seen her look like that before.

  Exactly as instructed, Anika walked a half a pace behind me toward the double glass doors of the reception hall. She kept her head down, doing nothing to draw attention. Unable to walk at my side as a date would have done, she ignored the cameras in her face and reporters who tried to talk to her. Seconds before her presence would have become awkward, Kelly appeared beside her, dressed similarly, in a flowing, but simple gown.

  While I gave my obligatory wave and nod to the press, I heard the two of them.

  “Anika, right? Kelly. My, you’re almost beautiful.”

  “Almost?”

  “Just do what I do, and you’ll manage to look like you belong here.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  At the doors, I turned, taking the chance to look back, fists clenching at my sides in protectiveness for Anika. Kelly gave me an innocent smile that fooled no one. Her pale green eyes glinted with that simpering adoration that had become all too familiar from her. Anika rose a brow at me, her gaze flickering to Kelly as if to ask what the hell she was doing. Now wasn’t the time to reprimand my assistant, so I settled for giving Anika a deliberately lingering look. Kelly’s mouth pressed into a thin line. She got the message.

  “Here’s a list of the celebrities who’ll be donating alongside you, Mr. Davros.” Kelly handed me a tablet as we walked across the white marble foyer toward a set of double doors that led into the main room. “You’re speech is on there too, with all the revisions you wanted.”

  I nodded and flipped through the first page of donators. “Rossi’s on here.” I snorted.

  “Is that bad?” Anika asked.

  “No, but if he’s here, he’s only doing it to impress people, like my father.” I handed Anika the tablet since she happened to be closer.

  As we made our way into the cavernous reception hall with the other A-list guests, I glanced around for my parents. The last thing I wanted to do was allow Anika to be blindsided by either of them. I didn’t see them. Perhaps they hadn’t arrived.
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  At the tables set up in rows throughout the room, Kelly tapped her blue tooth and touched my arm. She leaned in close to be heard over the cacophony of guests.

  “I need to get backstage and help get things set up. See you later?” She batted her thick, fake eyelashes, then offered Anika one of her fake, glassy smiles. “She’s just as cute as can be, Kane.”

  Anika gave a soft snort when Kelly turned and sashayed away, already talking on her blue tooth. “Cute as can be? What am I, five?” She kept her voice down, even though the noise in here hardly made it necessary.

  Keeping my master’s mask of cool on, I resisted the urge to take her hand, instead, straightening my tie. I wasn’t supposed to care about her. Fuck, like I needed another issue to deal with tonight. Kelly knew I couldn’t be seen reprimanding her for insulting someone who was supposed to be beneath me, or there’s no way she would have spoken to Anika that way.

  Seeing me do up my blazer, Anika slipped easily into the role. She moved in front of me, brushing off my blazer, doing up the second button, though I had a feeling she was using this as an excuse to be close enough to talk to me.

  “So in addition to dealing with your parents, I have to put up with her all night?”

  “Just ignore her. She’s harmless.”

  “Yeah, right.” She pulled my tie tight for an instant, enough that I grunted at the light constriction on my neck. She left it tight just long enough to make her point. “If her claws were any sharper, you’d be bleeding.”

  I mashed my lips together to keep from grinning and led her over to the table reserved for my party.

  “Well, look at it this way. The night can’t get any worse, right?”

  Near our table, one of the businessmen standing there turned around. My stomach sank to my feet as he flashed a shark’s smile of too many white teeth. Dominic Gavini made his way toward us.

  “Wrong,” I growled.