Dark Blood: A Mafia Hitman Romance

by Isabella Starling

  She looks at me over her shoulder. Big, scared blue eyes that are as deep as the ocean.

  "Tell me now," I try to coax it out of her. "What does my girl want right now?"

  She swallows. "I...I don't want you to hurt me."

  I chuckle and she leans into my hand when I touch her warm cheeks. So needy for attention, this little one. "I won't. I'm not here to do that."

  "Then why are you here?" Genuine curiosity colors her cheeks into a rosy pink color as she stares at me. "I tried to run. You should be chaining me down."

  "Oh, but baby," I grin. "Neither of us wants that, do we?"

  She shakes her head hesitantly. My finger trails down her back, pulling down the edge of her panties.

  "Relax," I tell her gently, pushing them down an inch. "I'll only do what you want me to."

  Bianca looks into my eyes, her lashes fluttering open. "That's what I'm afraid of."

  5

  Bianca

  The tension in the air is palpable. The atmosphere is electric. I want him to touch me. I want him to do bad things to me. And I know it's so goddamn wrong, but I can't resist. He's done something to me, messed with my head and played with my heart. I'm the puppet, and he's pulling on every one of my strings.

  He's breathing heavily, and he gently pushes down my panties until my hipbones poke out. I hiss as the air hits my skin, and Matteo groans when his fingers connect with my feverish body.

  "God," he says. "So fucking delicious. So damn wrong. I can't resist. I'm sorry, princess, but I'm not even going to try."

  With that, his fingers push off my panties and I arch my back, helping him along. What the hell am I doing? Alarm bells are going off in my head, and I'm going insane, crazy because he isn't touching me enough, restless because I need to feel him better, deeper, hotter.

  I'm backed up against the wall, and now my pussy is bare against his crotch. Yet his eyes are still locked on me, looking right through my body. He hasn't even looked down yet, and I'm getting desperate and needy.

  "Why won't you look at me?" I ask. "You took them off...."

  "I can't," he groans. "I'm not supposed to be doing this."

  Neither of us is, and yet, we can't fucking resist. My daddy would kill me for this. Matteo's father is sure to punish him. And yet neither of us is stopping. Neither of us is putting an end to this endless teasing.

  "Then stop," I tell him. "Put me down. Chain me back. Let's pretend this never happened."

  He's hesitating and my heart is pounding. I need him to say no. I need him...inside of me. God, I need him buried inside me.

  "Can't." His voice is so hoarse. "Don't want to."

  His fingers outline my hipbones, sliding down past my belly button. I hiss when he reaches my pussy. Matteo's eyes are still locked on mine, and it's driving me insane.

  "Please," I whimper.

  "What do you want?" He's teasing me again, and I've fallen right into his trap. His eyes are darker than ever, a deep black I could get lost in for days.

  "Inside...."

  "Inside where?"

  I can't take it. My whole body is shaking, I'm so desperate. I take his fingers and push down. As soon as he feels my pussy lips beneath his fingertips, he tries to back up, but I won't let him. I guide his hand, tracing them and he breathes fire down my neck.

  "You're.... You're fucking soaked," he says. His eyes are still on mine, and I'm blushing.

  "Please just...." I'm struggling to get the words out, and my cheeks are burning up. I feel embarrassed as hell, but I have to tell him. I can't keep it to myself. "Be gentle."

  "Why?" he asks roughly. His callused fingers are parting my lips now, and I'm wriggling on his lap. I feel something building up inside me. It's dangerous. It makes me want to break for him, shatter to pieces just so he can put me back together. I need this so badly.

  "I...I've never done this before." I'm going to faint. I can't stand this. "I'm a virgin."

  Matteo stops. His fingers are holding me open, the cold air in the cell hitting my tender skin. "Don't stop," I beg him. "Don't stop, please, please, please...."

  "You're a fucking virgin?" he repeats in disbelief. I'm too far away. I can feel myself slipping to a different place. My mind is spinning. My body is aching. I'm about to let it happen, let it take me under. I have to. The pull is so fucking strong.

  I nod weakly, unable to form a coherent sentence. I manage to look up at Matteo and he looks pissed as hell. I don't understand. Why is he getting so angry? I thought he wouldn't give a fuck either way.

  "W-why do you care?" I manage to get out.

  He slips away from me, leaning against the wall with a heavy sigh. He's not paying attention. My gaze wanders towards the door and I let myself hope. I could slip out right now, just make a run for it and disappear. He would never be able to catch me. He wouldn't even realize what was going on, and when he did, I'd be long gone.

  I need to play this right if I want to get out of here.

  I swallow the lump in my throat.

  "Tell me," I ask him, trying to lead him on. I move away from the wall and pull up my panties, as quiet as I can be, given that I'm still breathing heavily as fuck. "Tell me why it bothers you."

  He's deep in thought as I sneak past him. His eyes are closed and I'm light on my feet. This might actually work! I might get out of here. My survival instinct is kicking in, and I know I need to get away.

  "You're so fucking young," he mutters under his breath. "So damned innocent. It's not good."

  I'm quiet. Quiet as a mouse as I sneak past him. I'm almost at the door. I let myself breathe a sigh of relief. I'll be out soon.

  I slip through the door.

  "You don't belong in a cell," I can hear Matteo saying behind me. "You belong in a fucking castle like the spoiled princess you are."

  I'm out. I'm in the hallway, wildly looking around myself and searching for an escape from this horrible nightmare. I need to get back to Daddy, right now.

  "You think I'm fucking stupid, princess?"

  His breath is hot against my neck. Fuck.

  One hand wraps around my neck, the other pulls down on my long hair, hard. He pulls me back and I whimper in pain.

  "I'm sorry," I mutter. "I'm so sorry."

  "Not yet." He's growling. "You're not fucking sorry yet. But you will be, princess. I've been too fucking lenient with you because you're a pretty piece of ass. But I'm about to show you what the real me looks and acts like." He breathes down my neck, and I can feel his teeth grazing my skin. "Are you excited, princess?"

  I'm on the verge of crying as he pulls me back into the room. My body goes slack when he puts me down on the floor, all the fight gone out of me. I let him chain me back as I cry softly.

  Matteo moves back, admiring his handiwork. "So pretty in my chains," he tells me with a smirk. "Let's see you try to get out now."

  I cry out, but he merely laughs. "See you tomorrow, naughty girl," he says. Then, he walks over to the door and shuts it without so much as giving me another look. And I howl into the empty space.

  Sharp, threatening voices wake me up the next morning. I stir from my sleep, waking up in a heap on the floor. My bones are aching from the position I slept in, and I realize I must have fallen asleep sometime during the night. The chains have rubbed my skin raw and my sleeping arrangement made my whole body sore and tense.

  But the most important thing right now are the voices. I hear them out in the hallway, deep and unfamiliar. And I think they're coming for me.

  I crawl into the corner of the room and pull up Matteo's leather jacket. He left it here last night, probably not intentionally. At least it kept me warm for the night in this frozen hell of a cell.

  I hear commotion on the other side of the door, my heart pounding so fast. And then it opens, and three men walk inside.

  They're about as tall as Matteo, and just as bulky. But they look different. They look...dangerous. Like their only intent for being in here is to hurt me.

&n
bsp; "What do we have here?" one of them growls at me. They're all wearing masks, creepy animal faces. At least that gives me hope. If they don't want me to see their faces, maybe it means I'll be getting out of here alive.

  They approach me slowly, like predators going in for the kill. I feel vulnerable in my lingerie and am so thankful for Matteo's jacket. At least it covers me up a little.

  "Let me go, please," I plead with them. My voice is so weak I'm embarrassed by it. I sound like a little girl, and as another one of the men laughs, I realize that's exactly what they see me as.

  "You're not getting out of here any time soon," the man with the rabbit mask tells me. "And we're not supposed to touch you, either."

  "Not that we always follow the rules," the guy in the hound mask tells me. My skin is prickling all over. I can feel myself shivering.

  The one man who's been quiet so far, the one wearing the lion mask, approaches me. He lifts up the leather jacket and the smooth, buttery material just slips right through my fingers. I've never felt more vulnerable.

  "What's this now?" he asks in a low, menacing tone. I think he scares me the most. He hasn't made a single threat towards me, but he seems to be the most dangerous. The one who would have no problem hurting me for his own amusement. "This looks familiar...."

  I can't even speak. My heart is pounding in my throat now, and I'm freaking out.

  "A leather jacket? I don't remember her wearing one when she came in," the rabbit says, taking the jacket from the other man. I think the worst part is not being able to see their mouths moving when they talk. It's like I'm stuck in a horrible horror movie.

  I'm shivering in the corner as the three men pass around the jacket, inspecting it closely.

  "This ain't hers," the hound says. I can hear the amusement in his voice. "You know whose this is?"

  "Our very own Matteo Salini," the man in the lion mask figures out. He approaches me, getting down on his one knee in front of me. I shy away from his touch as he reaches for me, his gloved fingers stroking my blushing cheeks. "You been playing with the enemy, little girl?"

  "He...." I'm choking on my own words. "He's the one w-who brought me here."

  "Why'd you get his jacket?" The lion's fingers are roaming my face, so tantalizingly slowly. It's killing me. The tension is too much. I know he's going to hurt me.

  "I-I was cold," I stutter.

  The lion laughs, a horrible, cold sound. "She was cold." He gets up, and before I even get the chance to release my pent-up breath, he slaps me across the face. I fall on my back, crying out in pain.

  "Looks like this little bitch is trying to seduce one of our own," the rabbit says angrily. They all approach me and I cower on the floor, trying to scoot as far away from them as possible.

  "Leave me alone, please," I beg. My voice is soft and scared. They merely laugh.

  "Looks like he had some fun with you already," the hound realizes. "Look, she's ready for us. And what a pretty little thing she is."

  "Don't hurt me." I'm shivering.

  "Oh, pet." The rabbit grabs a handful of my hair and pulls it so I have to face him. "We're not going to hurt you. We're just going to have some fun. After all, you are a Da Costa, are you not?"

  I'm too stunned to answer. Too afraid to even open my mouth.

  "Strip her," the lion orders the rabbit. The man advances on me and I try hard to get away, but what kind of chance do I really have? There are three of them, and every single one could overpower me with a single movement. I whimper on the floor as the man's gloved hands rip off my bra. My hands shoot up, trying to protect my dignity.

  "Nice tits," the hound remarks, laughing coldly. "Why don't we put some pretty marks on them?"

  "Don't." I'm begging. I thought I was afraid before, with Matteo. I am only now realizing how kind he was to me, given the situation. I wish with all my heart, praying to my god, that he would come back and save me from these monsters.

  Yes, he is dangerous. Yes, he is a killer. But he didn't try to hurt me like these guys.

  "Don't fucking touch her."

  My eyes flutter open and the rabbit's hand falls away from my shoulders. I'm blinking fast, trying to figure out if my prayers have been answered.

  But it's not Matteo.

  And the person who is standing in the doorway scares me more than any one of these three animals.

  The beasts scatter like ants being stomped on by a large leather boot. They leave the room faster than the blink of an eye, and I'm left alone...alone with the man I fear the most out of them all.

  Angelo Abbate.

  He's an imposing figure. I feel the blood freezing in my veins. I've never felt this exposed.

  He walks closer, inspecting me from every angle. When he's finally had enough, he approaches me and gently lifts my chin with one finger, making me look at him.

  "You look just like her," he tells me in Italian.

  I'm too scared to reply. My eyes are glassy and enormous as I stare into his cold and lifeless ones.

  "W-who?" I finally manage to stammer.

  He doesn't reply. Instead, he leaves the room. I start to breathe normally again, but before I can get used to the feeling, he's already back with a wooden chair. He sits down in front of me, his hands clasped in his lap.

  "You realize you're going to die," he says nonchalantly. My breath catches in my throat. I shake my head no. "Oh, it's not up for debate. You will die. It'll just take a while for me to decide how."

  He cracks his knuckles, wearing a stoic expression on his face. My heart is about to burst right out of my chest. "Your father ruined my life. I've been making him pay for years now."

  I think of all the damage the Abbate family has done to the Da Costas. All the people they've killed over the years. So many sons, so many daughters. So many innocents.

  "Haven't you ever wondered why your father never retaliated?" Angelo Abbate wonders out loud. "Ever thought about the fact that while he tried to protect you all, he never came after me?"

  I think back. Despite the bloodcurdling fear in my veins, I'm trying to follow along with the conversation.

  It's true.

  The Abbates have been ruining our lives for more than fifteen years. And while my father fought hard to protect us from harm, our family never retaliated against the Abbates. I don't know why, and I doubt I will ever find out.

  "Ah, I see the light bulb shining above your head," Abbate mocks me. "Finally figured it out, did you sweetheart?"

  "W-why did he never strike back?" I stutter over my words.

  "Ah. Not as close as I thought." Abbate gives me a curious look. "Your father really kept you in the dark. What a strange thought. I would've thought you knew everything. My children do."

  I give him a blank look and he smiles slowly. "So clueless," he says gently, reaching out for me. I'm too stunned to move away, and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

  "Are you going t-to tell me what you're talking about?" I ask in a shaky voice. I'm feeling brave all of a sudden. I need to know what this is all about if I want to come to the bottom of it.

  "No," Abbate says simply. "You'll find out at some point, but not from me."

  With that, he gets up from his chair as abruptly as he sat down on it. He eyes me with interest, like he's wondering about something. It's making me uncomfortable as hell. At least his eyes aren't stripping me naked, like the men before did. But it's more inquisitive, and for some reason, it makes me feel even more vulnerable.

  "Sweet dreams, Bianca," Abbate tells me. After a moment's thought, he leans down next to me and presses a kiss against my forehead. I thought I would've recoiled from his touch, but instead, I lean into it. It feels comforting, like the loving kiss of a father. I wonder why he just did that.

  He leaves me in the dark, shutting the door after him when he leaves. I shiver on my spot on the floor, feeling vulnerable and scared.

  After a minute or so, the lights flicker on in the cell. And then I hear him leaving, finall
y.

  Why did he just do that?

  6

  Matteo

  I haven't been able to get my mind off the imprisoned princess. It's like she's affected every working cell in my body, and every part of me throbs with need when I think of her. But I don't have time for such frivolous fantasies today. I have to meet my father. He has summoned me to his office, and a gut feeling tells me this isn't going to be good.

  I wake up bright and early and do my morning workout. I'm as brutal on my own body as I am on those of my enemies, pushing myself to the edge and then free-falling over it every fucking time. I need to be strong to live with the cards I've been dealt. There is no place for weaklings in the mafia.

  After a cold shower, filled with thoughts of our prisoner, I finally make my way to my father's office in his house. I leave my apartment, itching to get away from the chaotic state it's in. I hate that fucking place. Ever since I moved in years ago, I've felt like I don't belong there.

  I drive myself to my father's mansion and let the servants seat me in the living room. I'm seething. I should be able to walk into my father's office any time I want to, not be made to wait around like I'm some kind of servant. Of course, that is exactly what my father sees me as, and it's not about to change if I throw a petulant fit.

  Twenty minutes later, a silent servant finally shows me into father's study. I walk in there with my shoulders held back and my head raised high. I've learned years ago never to show my father my weak points. It would be too easy for him to strike right where it hurts.

  He is sitting at his desk, a drink in his hand. I don't make a comment about it being too early, and he doesn't raise his eyes to me when I walk in. There is no warmth between us, no real father-and-son relationship or bond. It's all business where my father is concerned.

  Of course, that is not the case with his legitimate sons. Those get all the fucking attention they want —a fact that drives me goddamn crazy. This man will never stop making me feel inferior, and I will never stop wanting his approval.