Revenge

by Dana Delamar

She shook her head. “It’s not that he saw them. It was his reaction.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He wants me.” She looked away from Enrico. “I think he always has.”

  “I will not let him touch you.”

  She closed her eyes and shivered, picturing Carlo’s avid eyes tracking her when she was with Vince. “He never said anything directly. But now I know for sure.”

  “You were his nephew’s wife.”

  “And now I’m not.” She was quiet for a moment. “I never realized being with Vince protected me from him.”

  “I will protect you.”

  She turned angry eyes on him. “Will you?”

  Enrico swallowed down his natural response. He deserved her scorn. “I swear it.”

  “The only way you can protect me is if you know who’s betrayed you.”

  He hoped he was right about Trucco. “Ruggero is working on it.”

  “Can you trust him?”

  “With my life.”

  “I trust Antonio.”

  “So do I.” Jealousy jabbed a knife in him, hard. So she trusted Antonio, but not him. And if she knew how he’d lied to her…. He squeezed her hand, looking into her eyes.

  After a moment, she returned the squeeze, exhaling slowly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “For blaming you. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

  He shook his head. “This whole… mess has been going on for a long time. You just got caught in the middle.”

  “Carlo said something strange.”

  “What?” Her tone raised the hair on the back of his neck.

  “He said your father kidnapped his son. That that was why he killed your mother and brothers.”

  Enrico sucked in a breath, trying not to show how rattled he was. What could he say?

  When he didn’t immediately answer, she continued. “I told him that was preposterous.” She hesitated, studying his face. “Isn’t it?”

  He looked down at their feet for a second, then up at her. “I wish it was.”

  “How can this be? Unless—”

  “Unless my father was in the Mafia? That is what you were going to say, yes?”

  She nodded, holding his eyes.

  Tell her. Tell her now. He searched her face, saw the dread in her eyes. Not yet. “He did arrange to have Dario kidnapped. My father had contacts—Carlo’s enemies—and they helped. You know the saying, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’?” She nodded. “My father very much believed that. But it was a mistake.”

  “What happened?”

  “They took him too seriously, or maybe they just hated Carlo too much. They cut off one of Dario’s fingers and sent it to Carlo.” Enrico damned himself for the lie. It had been his father who had done the cutting. If only he could tell her the truth about the situation. The whole truth.

  Kate gasped. “That’s horrible.”

  “Carlo thought Dario was dead. That is why he ordered the attack on my family.” He hated making Carlo look reasonable, but saying anything else would make her suspicious.

  “How do you live like this?”

  He shrugged. “You get used to it.”

  “I never want to get used to this. I just want my life back.” Kate withdrew her hand from his and hugged herself.

  An ache started deep in his chest. How would she ever accept him, and the malavita?

  He needed some advice, and there was only one person he wanted to consult. He leaned toward her. “We need to get away from all this for a few days.”

  “How?”

  “We could go to Capri and get you a new wardrobe.”

  Her lips curved into a smile. “I’ve always wanted to go there. It looks so pretty in the pictures I’ve seen.”

  “It is.” He hesitated. “And there is someone I want you to meet.”

  “Who?”

  “My godfather, Vittorio Battista. Aside from Dom and my father, he is all the family I have left.”

  “But he’s not related by blood?”

  Enrico shook his head. “It does not matter. He is like my own father.” He couldn’t explain it, not yet. But Vittorio was more than just a godfather. He was Enrico’s compare, his co-father. He’d taken the vow of comparaggio in front of the cosca when Enrico was born. He’d sworn that he would watch over Enrico, that he would never betray him. That he would regard him as a son. As his own blood.

  She looked up at the house. “It’s a shame you have no family living with you. You strike me as being rather lonely.”

  His throat constricted. How she cut right through him. “I am surrounded by people.”

  “Employees. Not family. Not friends.” She paused. “Do you even have any friends?”

  “Dom.”

  “Your cousin. Anyone you’re not related to, that you’re not in business with?”

  He shook his head.

  “That’s not healthy.”

  His position, his business, made it impossible to have friends other than family. Family was all he had, and very little of that left now. His skin burned under the pity in her gaze. He’d never chosen this life. It had been forced upon him. It and all the consequences—no friends, a dead family, a target on his back, no respite, no rest, only constant vigilance. When was the last time he hadn’t felt exhausted? He rubbed his hands over his face.

  “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  Anger flashed through him. He just wanted to be honest with her for once. But he couldn’t. “I do not need your pity.” He jumped from the chair and strode to the house, his feet carrying him without conscious thought. He’d wanted her, and even though he’d had her, he was no closer to what he really wanted. He was well past mere lust. He wanted her to be his. Maybe even, someday, his wife. He wanted her to understand, and accept, him. Him and the malavita. And that was never going to happen. Hell, he probably couldn’t even make her his mistress, much less his wife. No, he had to marry Delfina fucking Andretti.

  Her feet slapped on the flagstones as she ran up to him. She grabbed his arm outside the French doors that led inside. “Forgive me,” she said. “I’m upset and frustrated and still more than a little drunk, and I’m taking everything out on you.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “I really don’t want to fight.”

  He smirked. “That seems to be all you have wanted to do since you came here.”

  She looked at the stones beneath their feet. “I’m scared. I don’t handle it well.”

  He took a breath, then blew it out. He could be honest with her on this point. “I am scared too. I want so much from you, and I am afraid I cannot have it.”

  Kate’s stomach filled with a hard lump of shame. She had no intention of staying. She had no intention of letting him break her heart when he realized she was no substitute for Antonella. “I’m sorry.”

  He put a finger on her lips. “Stop apologizing.”

  “I should say the same to you.”

  His expression was grave. “I am not sure how I can ever make amends for failing to protect you. But I want to try. Will you let me?”

  She made her tone teasing when she answered. “As long as it involves a trip to Capri.”

  He smiled. “You will love it. It is one of my favorite places on earth.”

  Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. Going on this trip was probably not the best idea. But she was loath to leave his side. Not with Carlo out there, thinking about her. Making his plans. Dreaming his obscene dreams.

  Better to choose the lesser of two evils. She looked at Enrico, the tenderness in his gaze squeezing her heart. She didn’t want to think of him that way, but he had just as much potential to hurt her as Carlo. The difference was, Enrico wouldn’t enjoy it.

  But he would hurt her just the same.

  CHAPTER 17

  Ever since he’d massaged her by the pool the day before, Enrico hadn’t been able to stop fantasizing about Kate. The memory of touching her hit him h
ard that evening as he was lathering up in the shower. He’d put himself through a grueling workout, but it hadn’t helped.

  He ran the bar of soap over his arms, unable to stop picturing her there with him. He wanted her hands touching him, not his own. When he’d rubbed the sunscreen on her, she was all softness, all curves, her body pliable, yielding. He closed his eyes. His hands kneaded her thighs, his eyes glued to the fleshy mound of her sex. He cupped it with his hand, then pushed the thin fabric aside, his fingers parting the lips of her slick little figa, his mouth on her high ripe breasts, her hard nipples rolling under his tongue. Her lush body beneath his, opening up to him.

  He soaped up his cock, the length going rigid as he imagined her mouth on him, his cock moving in and out between her ripe lips, the little moans in her throat as she swallowed him down, her tongue swirling over the head, again and again, driving him mad.

  Now he was taking her on her hands and knees, thrusting into her from behind. She was so tight, gripping him like a glove, and he was fucking her like it was the last thing he was going to do on this earth. His hand slid up and down in a desperate rhythm. Cristo. Her ass jiggled as she pressed back into him, as his hips slapped against hers, her moans deepening as he slammed his cock into her.

  He came with a groan, his heart pounding, his breathing ragged, momentarily spent as he leaned against the creamy white marble wall of the shower. Dio, he’d fantasized about her before, but it had never been that good. Now that he knew what she felt like, what she tasted like.... He took a deep breath. He couldn’t spend all day in the shower. And he couldn’t make love to Kate right now. Maybe not for quite a while, maybe not ever again. His chest ached.

  He turned off the shower and stepped out, scrubbing roughly at his skin with a towel. He was finger-combing his hair when the mobile phone on the bathroom counter vibrated. He picked it up and was greeted by a frantic voice on the other end.

  Carlo had finally made his move.

  As he hurriedly pulled on clothes, the mobile phone continued to buzz like an agitated bee. First Dom, then Antonio, then Ruggero, then several other reports came in, all bad. Carlo’s men had struck three times that evening, in different parts of Milan, roughing up business owners under Enrico’s protection, including the elderly and influential Giacomo Parini and his wife Marietta. Targeting the Parinis meant Carlo was serious; if they bolted from the Lucchesi family’s protection, many others would follow their lead.

  Dom called again, his voice urgent when Enrico picked up. “They shot Ottavio Bottura.”

  “Will he live?”

  “The doctors aren’t sure.”

  “Damn it!” Enrico’s mind was churning. “Where did it happen?”

  “Near the others. He was checking on the Morettis. Carlo’s men were waiting.”

  “Have you alerted everyone?”

  “I’ve got men on it.” There was a pause, then Dom said, “You must accept Delfina.”

  He was puzzled. “I thought you’d already arranged it.”

  “I have spoken to Dario and Carlo.”

  “But?”

  “Carlo doesn’t trust you. He says you must give up the American.”

  “I can’t.” He should have guessed. Carlo wanted her too.

  “He says he will not have his granddaughter insulted by a public mistress.”

  The anger he’d been holding at bay exploded. “Fuck him. Everyone knows he has a mistress. He takes her everywhere!”

  “I’m not arguing with you. It’s not fair, but it’s what he wants.” There was a long silence, then Dom said, “So, you’re not changing your mind.”

  “Either I have Kate, or no Delfina.”

  “Carlo will not accept that.”

  “As I said—”

  “Yes, yes. Fuck him. That might feel good to say, but it won’t solve our problem. Carlo is trying to cut us off at the knees with this business today.”

  “I’m aware of that.” Why couldn’t he just do the right thing? Why couldn’t he just walk away from Kate? Why was he selfishly holding on to her, keeping her in danger?

  “Since you seem to be out of ideas,” Dom said, “may I recommend hard measures later tonight in each district Carlo controls around Milan?”

  Enrico ignored the jab. “No. We go with a two-pronged approach starting now. Send a few men out to trash Andretti’s business clients—frighten the owners, but don’t harm them. I want them grateful it wasn’t worse. I want everyone else we’ve got hitting Andretti’s bases throughout the city. Burn them out if you have to. I want him to hurt.”

  “We’ll make him suffer.”

  “The families who’ve been affected—you’ve issued compensation and protection?”

  “Yes. Enzo’s at the hospital with the Parinis, and I’m en route to Ottavio and his wife.”

  “I’ll be there shortly.” Enrico flipped the phone shut and went in search of Kate. He found her working in the solarium. “I have to go to Milan.”

  She closed her laptop. “What’s wrong?”

  “Carlo attacked several of my businesses.”

  “Is anyone hurt?”

  “Yes. I am going to check on things. Pino and Ruggero will go with me; Antonio, Santino, and Claudio will stay with you.” He paused. “Please stay near the house.”

  “Do you think they’ll come here?”

  He hated the anxiety in her voice. “I do not think so.”

  “He did send Vince though.” Kate took a deep breath. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. Seeing the terror on her face, he made a decision. “If you wish to leave, have your bags packed and ready to go when I return.”

  “I don’t have a passport.”

  “Do not worry about that.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  “Of course not. But if you are afraid—”

  “I’m staying.”

  He couldn’t have been more shocked. Or more pleased. He grinned at her, his chest going warm with pleasure. “I do not know how long this will take.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  He turned to go. “Wait.” Hearing the desperation in her voice, he spun back to her and found her suddenly in his arms. Her hands on the back of his head urged him to her for a tender kiss. The warmth in his chest expanded, grew, as her lips met his, as she sighed into his mouth. He pulled her close, crushing her to him for an instant. Then he let her go. He had to, or he’d never leave. “Come back to me,” she whispered. It was the first passionate kiss they’d shared since Vincenzo had attacked them. Joy flooded through him. If he survived this, there was hope for them.

  He stroked a few stray hairs off her cheek, then kissed her once more, letting his hunger loose for an instant. “I will return soon.” Then he turned and left, jogging to the cars out front. He passed Antonio heading up to the house and stopped him. “Stay with her at all times.” He pinned Antonio with a hard stare.

  “Sì, capo. I will guard her with my life.”

  He clapped Antonio on the back, then hurried to the Mercedes, where Pino and Ruggero were waiting with the engine running. Both were heavily armed. As soon as Enrico slipped inside, they headed for Milan. Another car with three men followed them.

  Ruggero was sitting in front with Pino. He pulled a 9mm Glock out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Enrico. The gun felt heavy and cool in Enrico’s hands. He popped the clip and checked that it was full, then slapped it back in. Every gunman made sure of his weapon. It was one of the first rules his father had taught him.

  He put the gun in his pocket and settled back against the seat. His heart raced. So it was finally upon them. He was almost glad to have the waiting over. He just wished it weren’t happening now, not with Kate here. Not now, not while he wasn’t sure of her. But that kiss…. He smiled to himself.

  Ruggero must have been watching him in the rearview mirror. He half-turned to Enrico. “Feels good to be in the action again, yes?”

  Enrico nodded. It did. Though the a
ction he was thinking of didn’t involve bullets. He shook off the memory of Kate’s body pressed against his. He needed his wits about him.

  En route, he pulled out his mobile phone and dialed his godfather. Vittorio answered on the first ring with “Ciao, Enrico, my son,” as if he were expecting the call.

  “Ciao, mio padrino. You know why I’m calling?”

  “I’ve heard Carlo has stuck a thorn in you.”

  “I’m dealing with it as we speak.”

  “I wish you well. I have a meeting with Benedetto in the morning about this outrage.”

  “Mille grazie, Don Battista.”

  “Thanks are not required. You do us all a great service, my boy. Carlo is a rabid dog who would tear everything apart if left unchecked. It is difficult to be his keeper. Even Benedetto does not like to tangle with his brother.”

  “Thank you for your kind words.”

  Vittorio laughed again, ending with another rasping cough. “You are so much like your father. So modest. But without the temper.”

  Enrico smiled. “I have the temper. I’m just not as free with it.”

  “Perhaps you would do well to unleash it from time to time. Carlo needs a reminder of who you are.”

  “Wise advice, Don Battista.”

  There was a pause, then Vittorio said, “I wish you to come see me when this has calmed down. There is a matter we must discuss.”

  Enrico felt a little jolt. The old don was the liaison between La Provincia, the quasi-ruling body of the ‘Ndrangheta, and the individual families. “Am I in trouble?” he asked, then regretted letting his anxiety show.

  “Call it an old man’s intuition.”

  Enrico wondered what was on Don Battista’s mind, but since they were approaching the outskirts of Milan, he wanted to be on full alert. “I’ll come see you. I’d already been thinking of it.”

  “I look forward to it. And bring this American of yours. I wish to meet her.”

  “Will do. Ciao.” He waited for the old don’s reply, then snapped the phone shut. Why did he want to see Kate? How had he even heard about her? He thought for a moment. Dom, of course. So Dom had already been complaining to their padrino. An inquiry from La Provincia was the last thing Enrico needed.