Beautiful Carnage: A Dark Mafia Bully Romance (The Boys of Sinners Bay Book 1)

by Caroline Peckham

  I stepped towards it just as something small and white raced over my foot and launched itself at Enzo.

  Coco snarled as he leapt forward and Enzo cursed as the little critter sank his teeth straight into his ankle.

  “Ah! What the fuck is that?” Enzo yelled, swinging his hunting knife and my heart plummeted into my gut.

  “Don’t hurt him!” I bellowed, diving forward before the little dog met his death at the end of that knife.

  Pain blazed across my back as the knife sliced into my skin and blood spilled.

  Enzo’s boot connected squarely with my chin and I fell back with Coco in my arms.

  Frankie moved to stand over me with a snarl of anger, his rifle aimed right at my face. “Give me another reason to pull this trigger, stronzo,” he growled. The carefree laughter had fled from him, his boyish features were hard and cold. The youngest Romero might have seemed more innocent than the others, but I didn’t doubt he’d pull that trigger.

  “Did you bring a fucking Pomeranian with you on a job?” he asked as his gaze slid to the snarling dog in my arms.

  Enzo started laughing and I pushed myself up on my elbows, holding Coco tightly so that he didn’t get away again.

  “He’s Sloan’s,” I growled, not needing to explain myself to him any further.

  Frankie laughed too, stepping back so that I could get up and directing me into the room again.

  I did as I was told, holding the little dog close like I might be able to protect him even though I knew nothing but death awaited me in that room.

  Two more men sat inside and my gaze trailed over them coldly. I wouldn’t give them an inch of my fear. If I’d met my end, I’d go out the way I’d lived: with my head high and my will iron.

  Martello Romero sat in a wing-backed chair in the corner of the room, his ankle resting on his opposite knee as he reclined in it like it was a goddamn throne. He watched me enter with an impassive look on his face and didn’t even bother to speak a word to me.

  The second man stood with his back to me, looking out of the window with his hands clasped behind him as if he was admiring the snow.

  The rest of the furniture in the room had been pushed aside, but one solitary wooden chair sat in the middle of the space on top of a plastic sheet.

  I walked straight to it without hesitating and sat down.

  “Look at the balls on this fucker,” Enzo said with a laugh as he followed me in. “How much do you think those things weigh, swinging around down there? They must be made of pure lead for him to swagger into this psycho death pit without even blinking!”

  “We could find out if you’d like?” the guy by the window offered in a voice that made my skin crawl. “I saw some scales in the kitchen. We could take bets on how much they weigh before I cut them off.”

  It took every inch of my resolve not to shift uncomfortably in my seat at that suggestion. Torture I expected. Cutting my balls off? I’d fight to the death before I’d let them do that.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Guido?” Frankie spat as he strode into the room with a large cardboard box in his arms, kicking the door closed behind him. “There isn’t a world in which I want to have the visual image of a man’s balls being cut off seared into my brain. That shit would haunt me for life.”

  I looked at the youngest Romero with the strangest feeling of relief flooding me and even a little gratitude. Frankie winked at me like we were old friends in on a game together and my brow pinched in confusion at the action.

  “It does stick with you,” Guido said enthusiastically as he turned to look at me, his gaze dipping to my crotch eagerly. I knew more than enough about the reputation of the twisted Romero cousin to believe he really had done that to some poor fucker in the past. I just had to hope the others decided to stay for the next part if they really did intend to curb his worst impulses.

  “Enough!” Enzo snapped. “We aren’t savages. Cutting off fingers is one thing but I draw the line at balls.”

  Guido huffed in frustration and returned his eyes to the snow outside.

  “Put the dog in here, mio amico,” Frankie said kindly, holding the box out for me.

  Coco started growling and I straightened my spine, having no intention of doing any such thing.

  “I promise I won’t hurt him,” Frankie said seriously, painting a cross over his heart. “I might kill the odd mean fucker like you, but I’m not going to hurt a puppy.”

  I wanted to tell him that Coco was a fully grown dog with bigger balls than the lot of them but I bit my tongue. If he believed he was just a pup maybe he really would spare him. I didn’t have to take the dog down with me.

  I hushed the little beast as I slowly placed him in the box and Frankie quickly closed the lid to keep him inside. He started barking right away and Frankie headed back out of the room, taking my last friend with him. My heart sank at parting with him but as Enzo moved closer to me, swinging his hunting knife in his grip, I forgot all about it.

  My mouth was dry and my heart thumped with the desperate urge to run, but I remained in place.

  “Our brother gave you a warning when you spoke to him,” he said casually, like we were two friends out for a drink not a captive and a murderer waiting for the inevitable.

  “He did,” I agreed darkly. “And where exactly is the great Rocco?”

  “Why is everyone so obsessed with him?” Enzo asked dramatically, pacing before me. “Even your little virgin bride has been screaming his name in ecstasy like he’s the fucking messiah.”

  “Don’t speak about Sloan like that,” I growled in warning and Enzo’s eyes lit like I’d just offered him a prize.

  “You know, she really got the hang of the whole captive thing pretty quickly,” he taunted. “She figured out that Rocco is so much kinder after having his dick sucked and now all he has to do is walk into the room and she’s on her knees with her mouth gaping-”

  I leapt out of my chair and my fist collided with his face before he could stop me.

  Enzo laughed like a maniac, tossing the hunting knife aside and throwing his fists at me in return as if he’d just been aching for a fight like men.

  I drove my knuckles into his side, his face, his stomach and he met every blow with a savage ferocity of his own before Frankie caught me around the throat and heaved me off of him again.

  I made a move to fight Frankie off but suddenly Guido was in my face with the hunting knife pointed right at my eye.

  “Sit down, Mr Vitoli,” he purred.

  Frankie guided me backwards and my ass hit the hard chair for the second time.

  Enzo was still laughing as he got to his feet and he spat a wad of blood from his mouth before grinning at me like I’d just done him a favour.

  Guido shifted forward with the knife, pressing the blade to my chest and breaking the skin so a bead of blood ran down to my navel.

  “You can pick a punishment, Nicoli,” Frankie offered as he leaned back against the wall, raising his gun in a casual threat. “A, B or C…”

  “What’s the difference?” I growled.

  “Call your brother,” Martello commanded and I looked his way. He didn’t seem to want to take much part in this, but he was clearly going to stay for the show all the same.

  Frankie grinned at me as he took his cellphone from his pocket and dialled. “B it is then.” The call connected quickly and he turned the screen towards me as Rocco Romero answered the FaceTime call.

  “Well look at you,” he purred with an excited glint in his eye. “Are you here to watch me punish your little principessa?”

  “Don’t,” I begged, not caring about doing so on her behalf. I’d never speak a word of protest against anything they might do to me, but I didn’t care what I had to do to try and protect her. I’d carve my own flesh from my bones to pay for her safety. To have and to hold. To honour and protect. She was my responsibility. Mine.

  “But I made the rules clear,” Rocco replied sadly. “And I’ve been so looking
forward to bruising that beautiful bronze skin of hers.”

  “Stop!” I commanded, though we both knew I held no authority.

  “I’m gonna go ahead and mute you,” he said with a cruel smile. “But feel free to watch the show.”

  The camera flipped around so that I could see a wooden door and Rocco’s hand as he turned a key in a lock.

  He headed down a dark staircase into a cellar and my limbs froze solid as he moved to place the camera down on a step near the bottom, facing a bare stone wall. He walked away but I couldn’t tear my gaze from the screen as a shriek of fear came from the speakers.

  Rocco reappeared with Sloan over his shoulder and she cried out again as she was tossed to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped as Rocco stalked towards her, grinning like a fucking psychopath as he unhooked his belt buckle and slid it from the loops.

  “How much do you care about her?” Enzo asked, raising an eyebrow at me as I tore my gaze from the screen to look at him. “Will you bleed for her, Nicoli?”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “Anything.”

  The brothers exchanged a dark look and Sloan shrieked as Rocco swung his belt like a whip and cracked it against the floor by her feet.

  “If you don’t fight back, Rocco will go a little easier on her then,” Frankie promised before cutting off the call.

  My heart leapt with fear as I tried to figure out what was happening to her now.

  “But if you break into any more of our properties then we’ll give her to Guido for an afternoon,” Martello promised darkly.

  Fear slid through my veins at the excitement in Guido’s gaze at that suggestion.

  I held my position as Enzo slammed his fist into my face. Frankie’s blow knocked me from my chair a second later and I bit my tongue as I forced myself not to fight back. It went against every instinct in my body to let them do this to me, but I had to. Not for me. For her. My Sloan. I would take this punishment in her place and they would soon rue the day they ever took a stand against either of us.

  They kept punching and kicking, battering my body until pain was all I was and all I could feel.

  As oblivion snatched me, I could only think of her. And somehow, that made my demise all the sweeter.

  Rocco stood above me with his belt wrapped around his fist and I threw up my foot with a yell, trying to kick him squarely in the dick.

  “What is it with you and my balls?” he laughed, catching my ankle before I could land the hit and flipping me over so my knees hit the floor.

  I struggled wildly, expecting the lash of his belt at any moment, but he released me and I scrambled away. I leapt to my feet, turning around with my fists raised only to find him looping his belt back around his waist.

  “The blizzard’s getting worse, they probably won’t be able to get back here tonight,” he said like we were in the middle of some casual conversation about the weather.

  “Why did you attack me?!” I demanded, my fists clenching tighter. I was ready to run, fight, destroy. But Rocco didn’t seem interested in continuing his assault. I glanced at the phone on the stairs, my heart slowing as I realised it must have all been for show.

  “Just driving the message home to your fancy little fiancé,” he said lightly.

  My breathing became shallow and I dropped my arms as he turned to leave. I hurried forward, catching his sleeve as fear washed over me. “Please don’t hurt him.”

  He remained quiet a long moment and my grip became bruising as my heart clenched into a tight ball.

  “Rocco, is he okay?” I begged the answer of him. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Nicoli while he was hunting for me.

  “He’ll live,” he said at last, pulling free of me then jogging up the stairs. The key turned in the lock and I dropped down onto the bottom stair with some relief bleeding through me. I hated the idea of Nicoli hurting for me, but they weren’t going to kill him. I had to hold onto that fact and pray his suffering would be swift.

  I gazed up at the door with my heart sinking like a deflated balloon. The house was empty, but Rocco still wasn’t letting me out. It looked like things had gone right back to the way they had been.

  A repetitive banging started up somewhere and I gazed up at the ceiling with a frown. It slowly moved all across the manor and music soon joined it, the thundering bass reaching me through the floorboards.

  I chewed on my lower lip, wondering what the hell was going on as I leaned back against the wall.

  The door swung open and the music spilled in so I could hear Gun In My Hand by Dorothy playing. I got to my feet as Rocco reached the middle of the stairs then leapt down the remaining few. He landed with a smirk, his hair falling forward into his eyes and a bottle of dark rum swinging in his hand. A hammer was tucked into his belt and his chest was entirely bare, drawing all of my attention for a few agonising seconds.

  “You’re free – so to speak. Everyone’s gone and I nailed down every window in the house.”

  “So by free you mean I have a bigger cage?” I asked, moving up a step, happy at least to get out of this freezing pit.

  “Got a couple of brain cells in that head of yours, haven’t you bella?” He grinned, leaning closer and the smell of rum and man rolled from him.

  I jogged upstairs, shrugging off my coat the second the heat of the house hit me. Rocco took it from me, tossing it onto the stair banister then kicking the cellar door closed. There was a finality in the sound that sent relief skittering through my body.

  He rested a hand on the small of my back, pushing me toward the bathroom in the hall. “Wash that pretty face of yours and come join me for a drink.” He nudged me into the room and I frowned as he left me to it. I shut the door firmly and hurried to the window on instinct, but Rocco was true to his word. It had been nailed shut so it looked like he wasn’t taking any chances with me. Except he was drinking, so that might make him careless…

  I stripped off and stepped into the shower, deciding to play along with him for a while. Maybe he’d drink himself into a coma and I could find the key to the front door.

  Steam filled the room as I soaked myself in heat to drain the cold from my bones, keeping my hair out of the flow.

  When I was done, I stepped out of the unit and wrapped myself in a towel. I hunted the floor but realised Rocco had taken my damn clothes. I was about to shout for him and demand he give me something to wear when I spotted a dress hanging on the back of the door. It was a full length navy gown with a split up one leg. It was silk, luxurious and made for the kind of ostentatious events I’d attended my entire life.

  A note was pinned to it so I tugged it off and read Rocco’s scrawling handwriting.

  Don’t make me party alone, I’ll end up in a fist fight with myself.

  I released a breath of laughter, glancing at the dress again. I wasn’t about to walk out there naked so I didn’t really have much choice. Besides, I’d decided to go along with his madness for now. At the very least, it would buy me a little more freedom today.

  He hadn’t left me any underwear or shoes so I pulled the gown on without them and combed my fingers through my hair. I stopped myself suddenly, curling my hands into fists. What does it matter what you look like, idiot?

  I rolled my eyes at myself, tugging the door open and stepping out into the hall. I followed the sound of the music upstairs and through the huge halls, wondering if it would lead me to Rocco.

  I found my way to a large bedroom beyond which was a balcony overlooking the forest below. A wall of glass windows stood before it and a slanted roof kept everything but the railing out of the snowstorm which was raging beyond. A large hot tub bubbled and steamed to one side of the balcony and on the other, Rocco was dancing, dressed in a black three piece suit with a navy tie that matched my dress. The bottle of rum hung loosely between his fingers as he moved to the pounding music. He was a good dancer but he didn’t seem to care what the beat told him to do, swaying to his own rhythm as he i
ntermittently sipped on the rum and sang loudly at the sky.

  To anyone else he might have looked insane. But to me, he looked like temptation. Like a man held to no boundaries or rules, who didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of him.

  I crept closer, feeling like I was approaching an animal in its natural habitat and not wanting to disturb him. As I opened the sliding door, he looked up, his eyes shimmering under the glittering fairy lights strung around the roof. His gaze sank down to my cleavage, my waist, the slit up my leg and I raised a brow.

  “Done leering?” I asked and his mouth split into a grin.

  He lunged forward, catching my hand and forcing me to twirl under his arm. “How do you think my parents’ clothes suit us, bella?”

  “This was your mother’s?” I looked down at the dress with a lump in my throat.

  He tugged me closer, skimming his fingers over the delicate detailing on my waist. “It was just sitting in the closet waiting for the moths to come. I thought I’d give it a night out.”

  “How thoughtful of you,” I said lightly.

  He held the rum out to me and the scent of spices sailed from it, invading my senses.

  Keep him sweet.

  I took it, swallowing a mouthful and grimacing as it burned all the way down. Heat spread out from my belly and I smirked as I shoved it back into his hand.

  I pulled my fingers free from his, moving to the edge of the balcony and gazing across the view. Except what I was actually doing was looking for a way down. A drain pipe to my right looked like a decent bet. I could shimmy down it right to the ground. So long as I didn’t lose my nerve over the icy sheen encasing it…

  Rocco moved beside me, resting his elbows in the snow on the railing and taking in a deep breath through his nose. He released it and an icy mist spilled from his lips, captivating me for a moment as I studied his chiselled features. He knew exactly how beautiful he was, but I wondered if he knew how magnetic he was too. The longer I looked at him, the more my body begged to be nearer; I could feel the pull of him soul deep. But why I’d feel something like that for a Romero, let alone my kidnapper, was beyond me.