Savage Beast: A Dark Mafia Enemies to Lovers Romance (Sinfully Savage)

by Kristen Luciani

  “What the hell is going on?” Chella screams. “He didn’t kill anyone that night! My father did!”

  Boris levels her with a cold stare before scowling at Frankie. “Is that what you told her?”

  Frankie’s jaw tightens, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as Boris’s gun settles between his eyes.

  Chella’s hands fly up to her mouth when Frankie doesn’t answer. Fucking pussy doesn’t even own up to what he did. “No! All of this time, you’ve made me believe that Papa was the reason…and I turned my back on him for it!” She slams her hands against his chest, shoving him hard. “Oh my God, tell me that’s not true! Tell me you haven’t been lying to me all of this time!”

  And still, he doesn’t acknowledge that the story he fed her is complete bullshit. Fury rages through me and the urge to put him through a wall overwhelms me. Frankie shakes uncontrollably as Boris’ shotgun slides down the side of his smashed-up face. “Boris, please, I’m so sorry. There has to be something else I can do to make up for it. I didn’t think anyone was gonna be in that car! Please, just tell me what will let me off the hook—”

  Chella reaches out a hand to Boris. “Please don’t hurt him,” she says, her voice choked with sobs. “Please, he’ll make it up to you. Please don’t take him. Roman!” she shrieks as Boris raises the gun to the side of Frankie’s head.

  “Oh, Jesus Christ,” Dante mutters.

  “Boris,” I say. “Let’s talk about this, okay? I know you lost someone close to you—"

  “The fuck we’ll talk!” Boris yells. “Don’t tell me how to conduct business, Villani, or I’ll make sure you’re next!”

  “Hey!” I shout. “A little fucking respect, please. This is my goddamn place, do you understand? Let me handle the Amantes. He put a hit on me, let me take care of the shithead instead!”

  “I have my orders,” he seethes.

  “Yeah, well, you’re in my fucking area,” I grunt. “And in my territory, I handle my own business!”

  He raises the gun at me. “Don’t fuck with me. I have no problem with your family…yet. But that can change very quickly if you get in my way!” His nostrils flare and his jaw tightens as he growls his next words at me. “This is revenge, plain and simple. And I’m not leaving until I get it!”

  As Boris takes his attention off of Frankie, the chicken shit shoves Chella away and makes a run for it and darts out of the garage. Boris fires his gun at Frankie’s back, the glass absorbing the impact of the shots. The panes crack but don’t shatter, a fact that clearly pisses him off and hampers his efforts to stop Frankie. With a demonic glare in my direction, Boris takes off like a shot after Frankie, both of them disappearing through the trees and into the private courtyard. The other two Russians run after them with Chella on their heels.

  I don’t stop to think about the fact that I don’t have a weapon. I just run into the darkness without a lifeline.

  I paid a lot of money for my secluded building…the privacy, the exclusivity. It’s nice to have your own space, away from the rest of the somewhat civilized world.

  They say luxury comes with a price.

  And it’s fucking steep.

  “Boris! Don’t fucking do it!” I shout, squinting in the darkness since the dim lighting isn’t enough to make out much of anything. “I will take care—"

  Crack! Pop! Bang!

  I can hear Chella’s thick sobs shattering the silence as I weave in and out of bushes to find her. She collapses next to where Frankie’s limp body is sprawled over the bricks. A large red puddle has spread under him and she grabs his hands, holding them tight to her chest. “No, Frankie! Don’t you leave me! Please don’t leave me!”

  Boris stands still for a second, watching her before he yanks her by the arm and drags her away from Frankie.

  He spits on Frankie, nodding at me as I approach, panting. “This ends right here, right now, Villani. It’s over. If you don’t wanna end up like Amante here, you’ll leave it the fuck alone.”

  He puts his gun to Chella’s temple and pulls her down the driveway toward his car. The two Russians are already inside and seconds later, Dante rushes up to me. I grab his gun and take off after the car where Chella struggles against Boris in the backseat.

  My legs cramp up with each step I take, my muscles tensing up as they near the corner. I can’t get close enough to take a shot, even to blow out a fucking tire!

  If they make it to that corner, it’ll be over.

  I’ll never see Chella again…

  Screeching tires round the corner from the opposite direction, going the wrong way down my one-way street. The Russians’ car veers off the side of the road, coming to a screeching stop, skidding across the cobblestones and into a lamppost to avoid hitting the other car.

  “Chella!” I roar.

  My lungs feel like they’re about to explode as my feet pound against the ground to get to her. Her side of the car took the full impact, and all I can see is her head rolling against the backseat where only seconds earlier she’d been clawing at Boris’s face.

  I pull open the backdoor, pressing my gun against Boris’s head and yanking him out of the car as Dante runs up to us.

  He holds out his hand to Boris and Boris shoves his gun into it, muttering some shit in Russian to his guys.

  I climb into the backseat, kneeling next to Chella. I run my fingers down the left side of her face, my fingertips soaked with her blood.

  “Chell,” I say in a choked whisper. The door is smashed in but it looks like the back quarter panel took the biggest hit. She must have slammed her head against the window. I run my fingers down the column of her neck and her eyes flutter open.

  “Roman,” she moans.

  “I’m here, babe.” I lace my fingers with hers. “You’re gonna be okay.”

  “Frankie…” she whispers, her eyes shining with tears.

  I’m ready to tell her it will be fine when I snap my lips closed.

  I can’t lie to her again.

  And right now, I don’t have the truth for her, anyway.

  Not about Frankie.

  I only have my own truth, and that is to promise that I will do everything in my power to keep her safe.

  “Can you move?” I ask.

  She nods and I snake an arm around her, sliding her out of the car.

  Dante has Boris backed against the car along with the other two guys, and I look up for a split second before I scoop Chella into my arms, my voice a deep growl. “You’re not taking her. You came here for Frankie and you did what you were ordered to do. Now get the fuck out of—”

  Another set of footsteps behind Boris stops me mid-thought, and I look past Boris to see a familiar face stagger over to us.

  Ray.

  He’s the one who ran his car into the Russians, and now he has his gun out and pointed at Boris’ sidekicks. “I got this, boss.”

  I give him a quick nod and return my attention to Boris. “You’re outnumbered, Boris. Leave before you start something you will never win. And just remember that you’re completely fucked if you decide to pull another stunt like this in my territory. Always remember that.”

  Boris’s lips curl upward into a nasty smirk. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until your family passes through my territory, then.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” I seethe.

  “Well then, it looks like our business has come to a close,” he says in an exaggerated Russian accent.

  “And it looks like you need to call an Uber.” I nod at Dante and Ray. “These guys will make sure you don’t get diverted.” I wrap my arm around Chella, guiding her away from the Russians, away from the smoldering metal, away from the man who took the last thing in her life that she’d been trying to protect.

  It’s not that far of a walk back to where we left Frankie but good God, I wish it was miles away.

  But I can see the reality lying there on the cobblestones, motionless, bloody, and void of any indication of life. Chella’s legs buckle a
s we approach, a strangled cry piercing the otherwise still night air.

  “Frankie,” she whimpers, slowly lowering herself down to the ground. She presses her head against his chest, reaching around him to hug him tight.

  My jaw tightens as I look down at him, contempt flooding me at the person he’d become.

  Maybe it was the person he’d always been and I just didn’t see it until it was too late.

  Chella’s body quakes as she weeps for him.

  I know how she feels, how helpless you feel when shit goes sideways and you can’t stop the inevitable from happening.

  And death for Frankie?

  It was always inevitable.

  Surprising that he evaded it for as long as he did.

  Chella turns her tear-stained face up toward me. “Is he really gone?” she asks, her voice a tormented whisper.

  I kneel down next to her and press my ear against Frankie’s chest, noting that his skin is already pasty. I can’t hear a goddamn thing. I press my fingertips against his throat, holding my face right over his mouth but there’s nothing.

  No thump of a heart.

  No thrum of a pulse.

  No wisp of a breath.

  Nothing.

  No sign of life at all.

  I pull Chella into my arms. “I’m so sorry,” I murmur.

  And she bawls as the realization grabs hold that yet another piece of her heart and soul has been taken away forever.

  A few minutes later, we stagger into the apartment and Chella sinks onto the couch, her head in her hands.

  Bella runs into the living room, yapping and doing her play bow until she sees the tears and stops short, like she senses Marchella’s pain. Her barks turn to soft whimpers and she hops up onto the sofa and lays her head in Chella’s lap, just like she did to me earlier.

  A lump swells in my throat as I watch Chella pick up Bella and hug her tight against her chest. The dog doesn’t even try to squirm or lick her tears. She just stays still, as if she knows it’s exactly what Chella needs at this moment.

  Ray and Dante come into the apartment a little while later and I nod toward the office to give Chella some privacy. Ray pauses as Dante goes down the hallway. He looks at me, scrubbing a hand down the front of his face.

  “Boss, look, I wanna apol—” he starts, but I hold up a hand.

  “Stop,” I say. “You don’t need to apologize. I respect what you did and why you did it.”

  “I shouldn’t have gone over your head like that. I didn’t trust Frankie and I was afraid shit was gonna come down on you.”

  “Which it did,” I mutter. “My fault.”

  “You, Matteo, Dante — I’d do anything for your family. You’ve always taken care of me.”

  “And by going to Matteo, you took care of me,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder. “You showed up when I needed you, Ray. That’s what matters to me.” I lean closer, lowering my voice. “But here’s the thing about second chances. If you fuck around again, I’ll kill ya.”

  His eyes widen and he recoils slightly and I let out a chuckle at the stricken look on his face.

  He relaxes his shoulders and smiles.

  I wink at him. “So long as we’re on the same page.”

  I shove him toward the office and close the door once we’re all inside.

  Dante is already on the phone with the cleaners. The benefit to my space is that it’s secluded, so having Frankie’s body handled won’t raise eyebrows because there aren’t any around to raise. He hangs up a minute later and folds his arms over his chest.

  “Are the Russians gone?” I ask.

  They look at each other and nod.

  “For now,” Dante grumbles with a shake of his head. “They aren’t happy that you kept a trophy.”

  “Well, they’re gonna have to deal with it,” I growl. “Unless they want us to bring hell to their doorstep in the armpit of Brooklyn.”

  “Nobody is looking for a battle, not over Frankie Amante. But the first chance they get to retaliate, you know they’ll take it. They left things alone tonight, but they wanna be made whole, too. Boris is pissed as hell that you cut him down in front of his guys, and that I sent him packing with his dick between his legs. He’s gonna be back, Romo.”

  “Yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “Well, it looks like we need to do a better job of building up our alliances here in the city.”

  “Or,” Dante says. “You know, maybe you stop fucking shit up and creating new enemies. Just a thought.”

  I give him a punch. “Maybe you need to go back to whatever far-off land you came from and wait for your next hit.”

  Dante snickers. “Might be you. Just saying. There’s gotta be a decent bounty on your ass in some country, Romo.”

  “Millions,” I say with a wink. “Don’t do it for anything less.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Marchella

  I open my eyes a crack early the next morning. Roman’s arms are wrapped securely around me and they tighten when I shift on the mattress. Bella is still snuggled into me, her body warm and calm against mine.

  My sleep was fitful at best, splintered with nightmares and haunting words and images that made me cry out more than once.

  But Roman never moved from my side. He held me as I wept for my brother, for my father, for fucking everything I’ve lost.

  It feels like my heart was shredded, stomped on, and then shoved back into my chest.

  Images that I will never forget will likely torment me until the day I die.

  But what’s worse are the unresolved emotions flooding my mind and soul.

  The deceit, the anger, the betrayal…

  My God, it feels like I didn’t even know my brother.

  All of this time, I’ve been working my ass off to save us and he’d only been working to save himself.

  My gut twists.

  As much as I despise him for what he did to us and how I let his lies dictate my actions, I miss him…so much.

  I choke back a sob and Roman nuzzles my neck. “Why did he have to do all of that?” I whisper. “Why the hell did he have to ruin everything?”

  “Hey,” Roman whispers. “You’ll never understand what went through his head, Chell. People grieve in different ways.”

  “How can you be so matter-of-fact?” I ask, twisting my head to look at him. “After everything he did to you and your family? To those guys he killed? He didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. He let my dad take the fall for him. I mean, because of his stupid ass choices, I was kidnapped!”

  “And did that turn out so badly for you?” he asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

  I sniffle. “No, but that’s not the point.”

  “I know. And you have a lot of rage inside of you right now. I get it. I’d feel the same way. But you need to figure out a way to move past it. He went off the deep end, yeah, but you shouldn’t remember that part. You need to hold onto everything else, otherwise you’ll be poisoning yourself every time you think of him.” He drops a kiss onto my forehead. “Besides, now you’re going to make things right with your dad. That’s a good thing.”

  “Great. One good thing,” I mumble.

  “You have me, too,” he says. “And Bella.”

  I shake my head. “No, we need to take her to the police. I can’t keep her in good conscience. She needs to be with her rightful owners. I’ve lost too much to deny someone else the happiness she can bring. We’ve already kept her for too long.”

  Roman’s brow furrows. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Yes.” My heart is already breaking. Why not say goodbye to one more thing?

  “We’ll stop on our way to see your dad.” His lips stretch into a tight line. “If it’s what you really want.”

  “It is,” I say, swiping at my eyes. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then we can get going.”

  He nods. “Okay. Do you want anything to eat? Coffee?”

  “I can’t even think about it,” I murmur.
“And then later…we need to talk about what we’re…what happens with…” I take a deep breath. “What we do with the…body.”

  I gently lay Bella next to Roman and slide out of the bed, grabbing some of the clothes he bought me the day before during our shopping spree.

  My temples throb as I brush my teeth and turn on the hot shower spray. The water scalds my skin, making it tingle. It mixes with the tears running down my face as the events from the last twenty-four hours replay in my mind.

  I don’t know how much time passes while I stand there. Could be minutes. Could be hours. But instead of making me feel better, more refreshed, the shower only fuels my fury.

  I wasted so much time, so much energy, so much of everything to make a better life for someone who didn’t even think enough about me to do the same.

  We were strangers, and that realization makes the tears fall faster and harder.

  I finally step out of the shower, moving around like a zombie.

  Roman takes a quick shower once I am finished and I spend a few minutes playing with Bella before my heart takes its final, I hope, beating of the day.

  One of Roman’s guys drops off a car for us to drive since the Bentley is in desperate need of body work. We climb into the BMW 7 series and I hold Bella tight in my lap as he drives uptown toward the police station in Inwood.

  A fleeting thought occurs to me when I remember the rent on our apartment is overdue.

  Our apartment.

  A gaggle of tears forms in my throat as Roman makes a turn down Shipwell Avenue and pulls up to the curb. He turns off the ignition and looks at me. “You sure you want to do this?” he asks.

  I take a deep breath. “Yes, at least someone should be happy today.”

  He snakes an arm around me as we walk inside with Bella. We stop in front of a one-way mirror and pick up the phone to let them know the reason for our visit. A few minutes later, a tall officer with kind eyes walks out and motions for us to follow him. He introduces himself as Officer Johnson.