Bound by the Don (Contarini Crime Family Book 3)

by Brook Wilder

“Too bad,” Marc said, his grin dimming. “I think we would get along pretty well.”

  “Sorry,” Sharon forced out, hurrying out of the classroom before he could say anything else.

  Marc was the type of guy she had hoped to meet here, a nice guy who could make her laugh. Instead, she had been ruined by a grumbling, violent mob boss, who had stolen her virginity and her heart all in one fell swoop. Ugh, how she hated him!

  Shouldering her bag, Sharon pushed open the door to the outside, glad for the warm breeze on her face. She should be grateful that she was alive, that Vittorio’s lifestyle hadn’t caused her to end up in a body bag. Life was too precious to her now, and Sharon was determined to live it to the fullest.

  But, first, she had to forget Vittorio and her time with him.

  Sharon turned the corner and crossed the street, glad that she had just completed her last class of the day. She had called the soup kitchen this morning and told them that she wasn’t feeling well, not ready to go back to the place where it had all started…

  That and she had seen the paper this morning, the one that had displayed the war that was going on between the two mob families. Her heart had lurched in her throat as she read the article, the number of people that had been killed on both sides. There was no explanation as to why they were burning down buildings and killing people, but Sharon knew it was something that had been triggered by her and the night that Vittorio had taken her from Rocco. She had wondered if Vittorio was okay and had cried most of the morning at the thought of him being hurt or killed by this vicious war.

  A car blew its horn at her and Sharon realized she was standing in the middle of the street. She gave an embarrassed wave as she crossed the rest of the way. Maybe she needed therapy or some sort of hypnosis to wipe out her memory of the last few weeks.

  All she wanted to be was normal.

  Sharon passed a storefront, pausing to look at herself in the window. She looked the same, but inside she was a hot mess. Another reflection caught her eye and she whirled around, her heart hammering in her ears. It had looked like Vittorio, dressed all in black. But no one stood in the spot that had been reflected in the window.

  Great, now she was losing it.

  Chapter 10

  Vittorio

  She had seen him.

  Vittorio hid behind the tree, his heart pounding out of his chest as he waited for her to continue to move down the street. He had been getting regular updates from his men who had been trailing her all morning, but finally he couldn’t take it and had come to see for himself.

  Sure enough, it was Sharon. He would know that face, that body anywhere. She looked like the rest of the students filing out of the classes, her blond ponytail swinging as she hurried across campus. His heart had frozen in his chest as he watched her from afar, careful to stay out of her path. The last thing he wanted was for their reunion to be in broad daylight. He still didn’t know how she would react to seeing him again.

  Blowing out a breath, he peered around the tree, feeling like a dumbass to be doing so. He was the fucking boss of one of the most predominant mob families in New York, yet he was hiding behind a fucking tree because of a chick.

  His father would be fucking rolling over in his grave.

  But she looked happy and healthy, which eased the tension in his shoulders after a week or more of worrying like hell about her. She was doing what she had come to New York to do and, if their paths had never crossed, if she had never been taken by Rocco’s goons and sold in the sex trade, she would be a much different person.

  But their paths had crossed, and his hands itched to hold her, to touch her soft skin and tell her that he was fucking sorry she had felt the need to run from him. He wanted her happy, but he had also wanted her with him. She made him happy and he felt like she had been happy with him up until the intruder.

  He would do anything to have her be happy with him again.

  Sharon had moved on down the street, but a new interest caught Vittorio’s eye and he started across the street, his black coat flapping behind him. Shit. He knew it had been too good to be true.

  The man weaved in and out of the crowd, ear buds in his ears and his hands tucked in his pockets, looking like every other fucker on the sidewalk. But Vittorio recognized his face. He was one of Rocco’s goons, one that had been in the club that night they had confronted each other.

  Rocco had found Sharon.

  His blood ran cold as he followed the man from a distance, apparently in no hurry to kill Vittorio’s love. No doubt he was waiting until she got to the lesser-crowded streets where no one would hear her scream when he killed her, leaving her to die in an alley by herself.

  Had his men not located her, that could have easily been the case.

  Vittorio clenched his jaw as he followed him, waiting until he had cleared out some of the foot traffic before he increased his pace, reaching him before he turned the next corner.

  “Hey!” the man said as Vittorio grabbed his arm.

  Vittorio clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him into an alley that reeked of spoiled food.

  “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Vittorio demanded as the man flailed in his grip. “Are you fucking stupid?”

  The man’s voice was muffled under his hand, so Vittorio removed it, not caring if he screamed.

  “Contarini, I swear, I wasn’t gonna kill her.”

  Vittorio let out a harsh laugh as he reached for the knife he kept at his side, glad that he had put on his leather gloves this morning.

  “Yeah right. Tell me another lie. It won’t save your life.”

  “Please,” the man begged as Vittorio tightened his arm around his neck. “I swear to you. P-please don’t kill me.”

  “Too late,” Vittorio said, holding the knife against his throat. “Rocco sent you, didn’t he? How did he find her?”

  “I-I don’t know,” the man protested, his hands grabbing wildly at Vittorio’s arm. Vittorio was at least twice the size of him and the futile attempts to dislodge his arm did nothing. “I wasn’t gonna touch her.”

  Vittorio had had enough. He slit the man’s throat in one even slice, allowing the body to crumple to the pavement. The man gurgled once before he went limp, his body hidden in the shadows of the building from anyone passing by the alley. He wiped the blade on the man’s shirt before tucking it back into its sheath, grimacing as he sidestepped the blood starting to pool under the man’s body. He felt nothing at the kill, no remorse, and certainly no excitement.

  His main concern was that Sharon was now a target. Rocco knew she was alive and out from under Vittorio’s protection. Vittorio knew he should leave her alone, let her live her life as she saw fit, which wasn’t with him, but he couldn’t. This asshole was no doubt the first of many that would be after her if he didn’t intervene.

  Vittorio stepped over the body and walked out of the alley, pulling his gloves off before reaching for his cell and hitting one lone number.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get some men over to her apartment,” he growled. “She was followed today. No harm is to come to her or I will fucking kill each one of you.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Vittorio stuck the phone back in his pocket as he walked back to where the car was waiting, a grim look on his face. She wasn’t going to be happy with what was about to happen, but he had no choice. Knowing that she was alive should be enough for him, but with Rocco still on the warpath he couldn’t chance just leaving her be. Sharon had left him willingly, putting him through agony, but now she was about to see his fucking ugly face once more.

  He just hoped she didn’t fucking hate him afterward.

  Chapter 11

  Sharon

  Sharon flipped over in the bed and groaned into the pillow, willing for sleep to finally find her. After a rough day of classes, she had come home and studied for hours until she could barely keep her eyes open, hoping that tonight would be the night she would get a full night’s sleep.
/>
  So far, her plan had not worked.

  Pulling the covers over her body, Sharon tucked herself into a cocoon and forced herself to keep her eyes closed. Not that she wanted to go to sleep. When she did, she had dreams of Vittorio and of the violence, sometimes drifting into him being killed by his rivals. The mere thought of his death chilled her heart. She might have run from him and his life, but she didn’t want him to die.

  Her eyes opened and she stared at the wall, counting the cracks in the cheap paint that graced it. Though she didn’t want to go back, she couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she had stayed, ignored the fact that he had killed a man before her, and continued to love him as if nothing had happened. Would they eventually have drifted apart, his life becoming too much for her to handle?

  Would he have allowed her to return to school, to finish out her dreams of a college degree? Or would she have been a prisoner in his penthouse once more, like Rapunzel in the tower, waiting for the life that would never happen? He might have loved her, but Sharon could not imagine Vittorio allowing her to blend her normal life with his brutal one.

  So, would she ever be normal again? Sharon thought about Marc today and how he had attempted to ask her out. That is who she should be interested in, someone who lived a calm life and not full of violence. No doubt Marc would have taken her to nice restaurants at first, even to a few parties on campus, before kissing her. Sex would be vanilla with him, with no surprises and definitely no ropes. Then he would have taken her home to meet his parents, probably a sailboat-loving family in the upstate, given his nice tan and accent. They would love her, of course, and she would like them.

  But even though she could dream of how that relationship would be, it would not make her happy. Vittorio’s words rang true to her. She would always be his.

  The sound of her doorknob turning ever so slightly caught Sharon’s attention and she turned toward the door, her heart stopping in her chest as she saw the masked intruder standing there, his body framed by the kitchen light they left on at night. Her first instinct was to scream, but he put his fingers to his lips, shaking his head slowly. They had found her. Rocco had found her, and now he was going to kill her to make Vittorio hurt.

  Oh, she should have never left!

  Clutching the blanket over her, she watched with bated breath as he came into her room and shut the door, trying to remember where she had put her mace. After her kidnapping, Sharon had replaced her mace, putting one in every bag and drawer in her room, so she would never go without it.

  She had half-hoped she would never need it again.

  When he got close to the bed, she lashed out with her foot, hoping to catch him off guard.

  But he saw it coming and grabbed her foot, his touch surprisingly gentle as he ran his gloved hand over her instep.

  “Did you really think that was going to do anything?”

  Sharon froze.

  “Vittorio?”

  No, he couldn’t be here!

  He nodded, his eyes glittering in the dim lighting.

  “Are you going to come willingly, or do I have to keep up this ruse?”

  He had come for her. Sharon wanted to be excited about it, but fear filled her body more than anything. He had to be upset that she had left him when he had told her not to. He had to be upset she had seduced him, told him she loved him, and then walked away.

  “W-what are you going to do with me?” she asked softly, unable to help herself.

  “That is for you to find out,” he said, his voice heavy as he held out his hand to her. “Will you come with me?”

  He was asking her, leaving it in her court to make up her mind if she wanted this. Sharon was surprised that he wasn’t demanding she come with him, but that he was asking her.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I will protect you from a distance,” he ground out, clearly upset with her that she was not coming immediately. “Please.”

  The word nearly broke her, and against her better judgement Sharon took his hand, feeling the cold leather against her skin. He helped her out of bed and she threw on some shoes, grabbing her bag before she was led out of the bedroom and out of the apartment, Vittorio securing the door behind him. He was silent as they walked right out of her building and into a waiting car, Sharon sliding over so that he could fold his large body in next to her.

  The car moved as soon as he shut the door and she watched with wary eyes as he removed the mask, running a hand through his hair. He looked just as she had remembered, though there was a haggardness to his face, as if he had not been sleeping well. Lines of exhaustion bracketed his mouth, his eyes tiredly looking at her, and Sharon felt a jolt explode through her body as their eyes connected. Vittorio had come after her. He had asked her to come with him, not demanded her to do so.

  He also looked as if he had missed her, which warmed her heart despite the tension between them. She didn’t know what to say, what to do with this Vittorio.

  Chapter 12

  Vittorio

  She was with him.

  Vittorio ran his hand through his hair once more, before remembering he had gloves on. He shed them as well, throwing them on the floor before him. Tonight had been too easy and he’d nearly had a heart attack at the thought of how easy it would have been for Rocco’s men to slit her throat as she slept.

  But it didn’t matter now. He had her in his sights, her shampoo filling his senses and causing him to clench his hands together so he wouldn’t reach out and touch her. There was a wariness in her eyes he desperately wanted to rid her of before he did any touching.

  Clearing his throat, Vittorio looked at Sharon.

  “Why did you leave me?”

  Her eyes widened, and she wet her lips, the subtle movement making his cock tighten with need. Hell, it had been too long. He should have dumped off in some chick before he had come for her.

  “Vittorio,” she said softly.

  “Why did you leave me?” he asked again, his voice coming out rough.

  She had no idea what he had gone through these past few days without her, nearly going out of his mind with worry, the pain all too real in his heart. He wanted to tell her, but was unable to get the words out.

  Fuck, she was going to kill him in the end.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I-I couldn’t deal with the violence. You scared me and made me question if we were really in love or if it was just an infatuation.”

  Surprised, Vittorio swallowed hard.

  “You don’t love me?”

  She gave out a little, desperate laugh.

  “I wish I could tell you no, but I do love you. I’ve tried to block you out of my mind, out of my heart, but you just keep worming yourself back in and I… well, there’s no need to fight it, honestly.”

  Relief flooded his body. Thank god, she still loved him.

  “I’ve looked for you every fucking where.”

  “I know,” she answered, swallowing. “I-I saw the news. Are you truly doing that for me?”

  Vittorio rubbed a hand over his face.

  “It started out because of you, but it turned into something bigger, something that I should have done a long time ago. So, yeah, I did in the beginning, but we are truly at war now.”

  “And you wonder why I left you.”

  Her words stung but he could appreciate her honesty.

  “I’m sorry,” he said flatly. “This is who I am. I can’t stop this.”

  The car slowed, and their conversation was cut off as the door opened and Vittorio climbed out, reaching back to help Sharon out as well. Her touch was warm on his hand, but he didn’t let go of her hand, holding onto it like she would disappear at any moment and this would all be a bad fucking dream.

  Vittorio was grateful that she didn’t pull away. Instead, she interlaced her fingers with his as he walked them toward the building, silence between them as they made their way to his penthouse. He didn’t know
what to say to her, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, she would demand to be taken home and he would never see her again.

  He fucking hated feeling weak.

  Once they were inside his penthouse, he set the alarm before turning back to Sharon.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Would you care to sit?” he tried again, gesturing to the couch.

  As much as he wanted to take her directly to his bed and bury himself between her luscious thighs, Vittorio knew there were things that needed to be said between them.