by Brook Wilder
“We love you very much, Sharon. Call anytime.”
Sharon ended the call and threw the phone on the narrow bed before sitting on it herself, her head in her hands. She had just lied to her mother, telling her things that would never happen. There was no way she was going to ever let Vittorio near her parents. They would never have a normal conversation, Vittorio winning them over with his crazy grin and personality.
He had none of that. Well, technically he did, but he wasn’t the take-home-to-meet-your-parents type of guy.
He wasn’t even her type of guy.
Sharon wiped her face and stood, erasing all traces of her tears. She wasn’t going to cry over this any longer. That part of her life, that one brief moment in time, was over with. She wasn’t going back to Vittorio and he certainly wasn’t going to be looking for her. Likely, he would be glad she was gone and not causing any trouble for him any longer.
Both were back to their normal lives, though hers was a bit boring.
That was the way she wanted it.
Chapter 7
Vittorio
Vittorio gritted his teeth as he watched the stripper dance before him, her coy smile attempting to garner more than just his eyes.
But he wasn’t in the fucking mood to mess with the stripper or anyone else for that matter. It had been a week since he had woken up alone in his grandmother’s house, a week since he had touched Sharon, kissed her. His dreams were haunted by her smile, her touch, to the point where he woke up craving her, sometimes even searching through his apartment just to make sure she wasn’t there.
It was a sad, fucking existence he lived in. At least with Lara, he knew where she had been. After her death he had visited her grave once, in the middle of the night, and cried like a fucking baby.
But then he had pushed those feelings deep down inside him, told her goodbye, and moved on. With Sharon still missing, he didn’t have that opportunity. Until he saw her body, he wasn’t going to believe that she had suffered the same fate.
“He’s here, boss.”
Vittorio nodded at one of his men, stretching his arm along the velvet couch and pretending that he wasn’t raging with anger on the inside. After a week of being on a warpath, he had decided to bring the bastard to him, to have a straightforward conversation with Anafesto and decide, based on his answers, what his next steps would be. Vittorio no longer believed that Rocco was holding Sharon, but that little bit of knowledge didn’t mean that he still didn’t want to destroy the bastard.
Rocco stepped in front of Vittorio, blocking his view. The mob boss looked worse for wear, even dressed in his expensive suit, his expression haggard.
“There you are, you fucking bastard.”
“Nice to see you too,” Vittorio growled, not offering Rocco a seat. “I hear you are looking for me.”
“You set fire to four of my fucking businesses and killed twenty of my men, including Teddy. Of course I am looking for you.”
A shot of satisfaction flooded Vittorio’s body.
“Sounds like you had a bad week.”
One of his men snickered, but Vittorio kept his eyes on Rocco, watching as his skin turned mottled with rage.
“Yeah, I did all of that and some. Is that why you are here? To help me gloat that I am taking your old ass and tearing it apart piece by piece?”
To Rocco’s credit, he didn’t reach for his gun, taking his hands and smoothing back the little hair he had left on either side of his head.
“You know, you are a stupid little snot, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been told that a time or two,” Vittorio shrugged.
Rocco shook his head, a laugh escaping him.
“I heard you are looking for your whore. I don’t have her. I wouldn’t want your used goods.”
“I believe you,” Vittorio said evenly, nearly choking on his words. If the bastard had Sharon, he would have brought her here tonight to gloat about it.
Rocco looked at him, his eyes narrowing.
“Then why the hell are you burning down my shit?”
Vittorio leaned forward, interlacing his hands together.
“Because, you stupid son of a bitch, I want you dead.”
The mob boss stared at Vittorio before bursting into laughter, holding out his arms.
“Well here I am! Why don’t you shoot me now?”
Oh, he wanted to. He wanted to put a bullet right square in his face, watch it explode. He wanted to beat the hell out of him, make him feel all the pain he had put Vittorio through with Lara’s death and Sharon’s sudden disappearance. He wanted to beat him within a square inch of his life and do it all over again.
But it wasn’t the time nor the place. He still had a girl to find and, until he could ensure Sharon’s safety, he would attack Rocco from a distance. Leaning back, Vittorio gave him a cold smile.
“I could you know. I could have you and all your boys’ dead before dawn, but I am enjoying tearing you apart slowly.”
Rocco’s face turned blood red and he dropped his arms.
“I’m telling you one last time, back the fuck off before I get serious.”
Vittorio chuckled.
“And you haven’t been so far? Pity.”
The mob boss turned and walked away, flanked by his guards, giving Vittorio the view once more.
“Should we go after him boss?” one of his men asked, cracking his knuckles.
Vittorio shook his head.
“No. I’m going to do exactly what I told him.”
He didn’t want an easy kill for Rocco. He wanted the man to sweat, to feel like he was losing control over his life. and that of his family, before he took the old man down.
“Follow them. Find out where’s he’s hiding.”
“Got it,” the man said before disappearing from Vittorio’s sight.
Only then did Vittorio let out a breath, feeling no pleasure in what had just happened. This was a vicious, cruel world he lived in and the only slight sunshine he had experienced had been in Sharon’s arms. She had seen past the darkness, past the blood and brutality, and loved him.
That was, as long as he didn’t expose her to the darkness as well.
But now she was gone and he couldn’t find her. Now Rocco was going after everything that Vittorio had, and he couldn’t find the one thing he couldn’t live without.
Vittorio rubbed a hand over his head, feeling suddenly tired. He needed a decent night’s sleep without the fucking dreams. He needed a time to forget that he had this massive hole in his chest where his heart used to sit, to cover up the tender feelings that she had threatened to expose.
Fuck he should have let Rocco kill him. It would be a great deal less painful than what he was going through right now.
Chapter 8
Vittorio
Vittorio woke the next morning in a foul mood and in an empty bed. His dreams had yet again been filled with Sharon, but this time, Rocco had been in them as well. Rocco had taunted him by touching Sharon, the terror in her eyes causing him to beg for her life.
It had been so real, so vivid, that his cheeks were wet with tears when he woke. This not being able to find her was tearing him apart, making him weak and wanting to kill Rocco at the same time. He should have done it last night, ended it all.
Vittorio dressed and went into the kitchen, forcing himself to brew some coffee and not head straight to the bar on the other side of the room. He had to keep his head clear, to continually take down Rocco until there was nothing left. He might not have Sharon, but it didn’t mean that the fucker didn’t deserve everything that he had coming to him.
The door to his penthouse opened a few minutes later and Marcello walked in, a grim look on his face as he placed the newspaper on the counter.
“Looks like you both made the news.”
Vittorio picked it up, a grimace of his own crossing his face as he saw the burning building on the front page. Contarini-Anafesto War Rages in the Big Apple, it said above the picture. The ar
ticle went on to talk about the beef between the two families and how many people had died in their war.
“Shit,” Vittorio swore, throwing the paper down on the counter. “That’s all we need, the cops sniffing into our business.”
“But you got some of them in your back pocket, right?” Marcello asked, walking over to pour himself some coffee.
Vittorio nodded. His pockets ran deep with the police force, leaving it damn near impenetrable for the Anafesto family. While Rocco had some on his payroll, it didn’t even compete with the ones the Contarini family had. It was yet another reason for Rocco to hate him.
“But there will be some looking for a way up in the ranks. You took care of the bodies, right?”
Marcello nodded, remembering the spree they had gone on the previous night, after the confrontation at the club. Their car had been ambushed at the stop light, but the men who had attempted the hit were woefully unprepared for firepower that Vittorio and his men had been armed with.
“It’s taken care of.”
Vittorio blew out a heavy breath.
“Thanks. I know I’m asking a hell of a lot from you lately, but I do appreciate it. I don’t trust anyone else like I trust you.”
Marcello burst into laughter.
“Are you really thanking me? Man, you must have it bad for this chick, uh, for Sharon then. She’s turning you into a fucking softie. What’s next? You getting out of the business?”
Vittorio ran a hand over his face.
“Of course not. But, when I do find her, I will be calming down my activities.”
“After Rocco is dead, I hope.”
“After,” Vittorio promised, glancing back down at the paper. “I see that they found the girls we left.”
One of the places they had hit up last night had a bevy of girls, most of them drugged, waiting for the next auction. Sick to his stomach at these girls being sold to the highest bidder, Vittorio had ordered his men to get them to safety and put in the tip to the cops himself. He was tired of Rocco using the women against their will. Had he not saved Sharon that night, she could have easily fallen into a vicious cycle of being picked up by his men and used repeatedly by men who would not have been as kind as he had to her.
He wanted it to stop, this sex trafficking. It could be his own fucking daughter one day that got picked up. He would tear this damn city apart attempting to locate Sharon, killing anyone who stood in his way.
Vittorio swallowed hard. Was he really thinking about kids one day? Long ago, after Lara’s death, he had made the decision never to have kids, not wanting them to be used in any game his rivals might come up with.
But the thought of Sharon’s stomach swelling from his kid made him feel those tender feelings again. He had to find her. He couldn’t be living in this limbo any more.
His cell vibrated against the counter and Vittorio picked it up, holding it up to his ear.
“Yeah?”
“Boss,” one of his men said excitedly. “We found her.”
Vittorio’s heart dropped out of his chest, clutching the counter for support as his legs suddenly became jelly.
“You found her.”
“Yeah and she’s fine,” the man continued. “Or at least, as far as we can tell. Rocco wasn’t lying. He doesn’t have her.”
Vittorio closed his eyes, sending prayers up to whoever was listening. Sharon was fine, she was safe.
“Where is she?”
“Looks like she’s gone back to school. I have someone following her from a distance, but we haven’t approached her yet. Do you want us to grab her today?”
“No,” Vittorio ground out.
Another peculiar feeling was running through his veins. If Rocco hadn’t taken her, that meant she had left him under her own free will, putting him through hell and back. He should be pissed at her but was glad that she was safe and not in harm’s way. She had done a number on him, that was for sure. But it had been his own damn fault. He had exposed her to his violence without thinking about how she would handle it.
She had taught him a valuable lesson, but now it was time for her to come home to him.
“Continue to follow her. If Anafesto learns she’s ripe for the taking, he might take her. Don’t fucking let her see you.”
“Got it,” the man said before Vittorio ended the call.
“They found her,” Marcello said flatly.
Vittorio let out a harsh laugh, wiping a hand over his face.
“She fucking left me. She was never with Rocco.”
Marcello let out a strangled laugh.
“So, we started a war for nothing?”
Vittorio looked at his best friend.
“Hell no. We started something we shoulda finished a long time ago.”
Chapter 9
Sharon
“Make sure you take notes on this one. It will be on the test.”
Sharon watched as the slide changed before she jotted down some notes, underlining the information that she would need to study later on. The class was crowded today, and she had been forced to sit in the back, running from one side of the campus to the other for the next class.
But it had been refreshing to get back in the swing of a normal life as a college student, pretending that things had never been otherwise.
But deep in her heart, she knew different. Looking around the classroom, Sharon wondered how many of them had experienced anything remotely close to what she had: kidnapping, rough sex, falling in love, and then watching someone get killed before her eyes. How many of them would have chosen the way she had, to get out of the situation and run?
“Hey, you might want to pay attention.”
Sharon looked at the guy beside her, taking note of his good looks as he pointed to the professor.
“What?”
He gave her a grin.
“I failed this class twice. If he says pay attention, you might want to.”
She flushed, realizing she had been daydreaming.
“I… thanks. He’s that bad huh?”
The golden-eyed boy nodded, sticking out his hand.
“I’m Marc.”
“Sharon,” she said softly, shaking his hand.
His skin felt warm under hers and Sharon tried to drum up something, anything that could be an interest in her body. But in her mind’s eye, she saw Vittorio’s grin as she had told him that she loved him, the dark lines of his tattoos that she loved to trace with her fingers as they lay together in bed.
She bet this guy had nothing of the sort.
God, was she ruined for all eternity? Hadn’t Vittorio told her he would ruin her for any other guy in the future? She was starting to believe him.
“Nice to meet you,” he said with a smile.
Sharon drummed up a smile as well, but inside she was dying to leave, to go back to her apartment and bury herself under her covers. She wasn’t ready for something like this.
All she wanted was her life back, her normal life.
Sharon turned her attention back to the lesson, which thankfully wasn’t too much longer, and when class was dismissed, she hurriedly packed up her books in her bag.
“So,” Marc said beside her, throwing his books into his bookbag. “I can give you some pointers on this class if you want. I mean this is my third time.”
Sharon looked up at him, giving him a slight smile.
“Third time’s a charm, right?”
He laughed, showing off a mouth full of straight, perfectly white teeth.
“Yeah I’m hoping so, or my parents are going to kill me.”
Sharon swung her bag on her shoulder, wishing that she could just laugh and act like the college kid she was supposed to be. Her biggest worries should be this class or attempting to get through her first semester, not whether her mafia boyfriend was hunting for her.
“I wish you luck then.”
Marc’s smile grew wider.
“So, you want to be study partners then? I would like to take you out for
dinner first, if you are game.”
She shook her head. There was no reason to even entertain the idea right now. She wasn’t interested in another relationship, her heart hurting too badly from her last one.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m not looking to date right now.”