Faked: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Vanessa Waltz

  She grew up.

  She filled out.

  Little Liana had grown more beautiful by the year.

  It’d been way too easy to get her alone. In a blink, I had her tied up, bent over, and her thong to her knees. I could’ve gone further. I imagined rubbing my thumb along the shadow of her pussy. She didn’t put up a strong fight, which gave me ideas. My filthy thoughts revolved around Liana, kneeling and choking on my cock.

  I’d never look at her the same.

  I didn’t bother wiping my grin until I returned to The Sunset Tavern, a dive whose orange lights cast everybody in sepia tones. Uncle Nico, the don of the family, owned the bar. He was serving a five-year prison sentence.

  I maintained things in his absence. I oversaw Nico’s investments in condo developments and was partner to several construction firms. Later, I had a meeting with Larry Spada, a municipal politician, who would help me with zoning if I took care of Skunk, a crazy street boss who’d named himself after the bold white streak in his hair.

  Michael sat at the same table, staring at his phone. He frowned as I approached. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

  Shit. I didn’t think she’d squeal that fast. “Nothing.”

  “She’s pissed, man. Check it out.”

  He showed me his cell.

  Liana: I never want to see V again.

  Me: Why?

  Liana: He’s a PSYCHO.

  Liana: Don’t ever put me in the same room as him.

  Me: What did he do?

  She never replied.

  Good girl.

  Zero remorse plagued my conscience, but there was no sense in pissing off my most loyal associate. If Michael saw my hands all over his sister, he’d fly into a fucking rage that’d end with one of us beating the other into a coma.

  We were total opposites.

  Michael was the life of the party. I couldn’t charm a potted plant. He wore tailored suits. I’d rather be in shorts and a T-shirt. He loved children. I’d never wanted them. He was easily provoked. I barely felt anything these days.

  And I’d let her get to me.

  A lethal calmness settled in Michael’s gaze. “Did you threaten her?”

  In a manner of speaking. “I was harsh.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I waved, indicating it was nothing. “I gave her a stern talk.”

  “You should’ve left that to me.”

  “It doesn’t work coming from you. You never follow through.” I needed to steer the conversation away from these dangerous waters. “She knows better than to mouth off to me.”

  “What’s going on between you two?”

  I wiped images of Liana from my mind. “No idea. I only see her when you’re around.”

  “She’s stressed.” Michael sighed in the same way he did when his kids misbehaved. “I need her to pick a husband, but she’s dragging her feet. I’ll have to decide for her, and our relationship is already strained.”

  A husband?

  That shot a bolt into my chest.

  “Oh. I didn’t tell you.” He swept his brown hair. “Alessio came back from New York. Nico wants us to make peace with Legion MC, but the president is demanding Liana’s hand in marriage.”

  The vision of Liana in a wedding dress next to an MC member shoved a white-hot poker of rage into my heart.

  “Are they fucking crazy?”

  “I know,” he groaned. “It’s insane. They’ve never even met, but I guess he thinks she’ll be good collateral.”

  She would be.

  I didn’t have a lot of people in my life, but she was one of them. If I ever had to choose between Liana and the family’s interest, I’d take her.

  No question.

  I’d destroy every Harley dealership from here to California before giving her to a biker.

  “No.” I balled my fists. “Hell no.”

  “Preaching to the choir. You should hear what my wife has to say about it. Anyway, that’s why I’m trying to find her a husband.”

  “You should’ve told me.”

  “Doing that right now. You asked me to handle Legion,” Michael reminded me in a sharp voice.

  Yes, we needed to end the biker wars.

  Since Boston had spiraled into complete chaos, the mayor had contacted me weekly, threatening to call in the National Guard if the car bombings didn’t stop. They’d already imposed martial law and mandated curfews, slamming all business to a screeching halt and tanking the local economy. I had enough on my plate with Legion and Rage Machine turning Boston into a war zone.

  Ending Crash’s trafficking ring was supposed to cut Rage Machine at the knees, but they seemed to have an endless supply of guns and cash to bribe judges. They’d also been stealing dynamite from our construction sites to terrorize the city. Helping Legion defeat them made sense, but I’d had no idea the president of the club wanted Liana.

  The possibility of Michael setting Liana up triggered an avalanche of no. How could he do that? You didn’t give a prize to a decrepit soldier like DiMaggio.

  I could’ve reached across the table, grabbed his tie, and bashed his skull into the wood.

  “So that’s the reason behind the DiMaggio disaster.”

  “Funny you mention him.” Michael tensed, his amber gaze lighting with fire. “I wondered why you ran off the harmless guy I set up for her.”

  “He would’ve slid his disgusting hands under her dress as soon as he got her alone.”

  “No.” Michael shook his head. “He’s old school. He wouldn’t have touched her before marriage.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “You know, I thought maybe you noticed something I didn’t.” His mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “Now I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was jack shit.”

  “I saw a pathetic waste of space.” My throat burned as Michael gave me a searching look. “He’s a soldier at thirty-eight, which means he lacks ambition or he’s incompetent. He’s chasing a twenty-one-year-old who’s way out of his league.”

  “I decide that. Not you.”

  “Mike, you’re out of your mind. She won’t be happy with him.”

  “I’m getting a distinct jealous vibe from you.”

  I wasn’t jealous—I was fucking annoyed. “I’m amazed you’d hand over your sister to a guy who doesn’t make six figures.”

  “If you think Liana cares about money, you don’t know her at all.”

  “That’s not the point,” I shouted, fed up with this argument. “He’s a nobody. Unworthy.”

  “And you are?”

  Yes. “It’s not about me.”

  “Good,” he boomed, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “I’m glad we agree on that.”

  I could’ve hit the son of a bitch. “If you have such a hard-on for DiMaggio, why did you let me kick him out?”

  “Like I said, I thought you saw something. I also wanted to see if he’d stand up to you, but he didn’t, so…” Michael clicked his tongue, shrugging. “No matter. I’ll find someone else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nico’s hounding me about this deal. I can’t stall any longer. I shouldn’t go behind Nico’s back, but I won’t give my sister to those animals. So I’m bringing her to the gala at the Institute of Contemporary Art. She’ll pick from the pool of guys there.”

  Irritation burned a hole in my chest. “What a desperate, stupid idea.”

  “You have a better suggestion, smartass?”

  “Give her to me.”

  The command ripped from my mouth before I could bury it under a layer of denial. Michael jerked back, knocking over a glass of water, but he paid it no mind.

  “I’m acting-boss. I’ll tell Nico we’re dating, and that’ll be that. No need to marry her off.”

  “Except you’re not dating her.”

  “Who the fuck cares? It’s what he believes that matters.”

  Michael’s tone cooled. “I appreciate it, but no.”

  He was unbelievable.

/>   “You’d rather force a stranger on Liana than let her fake-date me?”

  “I’m not an idiot. I know where this is going, and the answer is hell no.” He pulled an ankle over his knee, his voice rising. “You’ve shown no interest in Liana. But now that she might be off the market, you’re breaking my balls.”

  He was right, and I hated it.

  I also didn’t need his permission.

  “There’s something else I could use your help with.” Michael’s gaze flicked at me, his eyes burning. “Liana keeps ditching her bodyguards to go out alone.”

  A thrill of heat seared my spine.

  “She’s pulling an Anthony.” Michael rubbed his forehead. “This girl. I swear to God. I hope my daughter’s not this much trouble when she gets older.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Talk to her. Make her see sense.”

  All I wanted was an excuse to be near her again.

  Michael clawed the arm of his chair. He looked on the verge of giving me a warning. He hated asking me for help.

  I smiled. “Leave it to me.”

  “Cool,” he said, suddenly stony. “And Vinn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hands off my goddamned sister.”

  I wiped the smile off my face.

  Too late, buddy.

  Five

  Liana

  It was a trick of the light.

  Vinn couldn’t be standing in the middle of a rowdy college bar. He hated crowds. And people. He was allergic to fun, too. Pink and blue lights flashed across a wide jaw and full mouth that pulled into a kingly frown. Vinn scanned the crowd with a laser-like focus until his gaze stopped on me.

  Gotcha.

  I glared at him, convinced the Vinn-lookalike would vanish into smoke. He didn’t hang out in places other than Italian cafés and the bars and restaurants he owned. Of course, he’d also never dragged me into dark rooms, bared my ass, and spanked me.

  The whole incident made me burn with an unwelcome blush. Was he trying to punish me? Did he want me turned on and flustered? What was his angle?

  Vinn’s over-the-top behavior had to be a fluke. He’d been angry. The power had gone to his head. He got carried away. We both did.

  It meant nothing.

  I pushed it from my mind, but that was hard, considering I woke to bruises on my ass. In the days that followed, they burned with the acute sensation of Vinn’s handprint.

  I’d ignored Michael’s probing texts. As much as I’d have loved to see Vinn get his due justice, Michael would go overboard and kill him. I hated Vinn, but I didn’t want him dead.

  Vinn’s blank stare hardened as it fell on the man beside me. His menace seemed to pour into James, a boat-shoe-wearing moron who’d gained admission into Bourton with a resumé of bullshit jobs like Wellness Advocate.

  “What’s with that dude?” James grumbled, sipping his beer. “He’s, like, staring at me.”

  “Who knows what’s wrong with him.”

  “Come at me, you little bitch,” James muttered at Vinn, who made his way toward us. “You want some?”

  “I’d love to watch you fight him.”

  James grinned, not catching on.

  Watching James and Vinn club each other to death would be nice, but I knew better. The former Marine wouldn’t break a sweat subduing James. The fight would end swiftly, or Vinn would drag it out to be cruel. Vinn’s merciless expression suggested he was down for torture.

  I needed to head this off.

  “Holy shit. Is that—is that your Vinny?” Queenie’s face broke into an ecstatic grin as he stomped in our direction. “You weren’t kidding. He’s a freaking babe.”

  “Keep that to yourself,” I whispered. “His head’s so swollen it might explode.”

  “Which one?” she slurred. ”He has a big dick, right? I’m right. I can’t even see you through his blinding Big Dick Energy.”

  That reminded me of the thigh I’d grabbed, which actually was his long, impossibly thick cock. I’d traced the mushroom shape before making the connection.

  My toes curled. I said nothing, but Queenie seemed to guess the truth from my flushed cheeks.

  She knocked her glass against mine. “Awesome.” Then she slugged my arm. “I’m so mad at you. You’re seeing him, and you didn’t tell me? Bitch.”

  “We’re not dating.”

  “Bullshit! He’s here for you.” Queenie launched from the couch and headed off Vinn before I caught her. “Hi, Vincent!”

  “Vinn,” he barked. “Never Vincent.”

  She took his hands, forgetting everything I’d told her about his personality. “This is like meeting a celebrity. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  Vinn yanked from her grip, scowling. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Queenie! Liana’s ride-or-die girl.” Queenie whirled, glaring at me. “You haven’t mentioned me?”

  “We’re not dating! Jesus H.”

  Vinn beckoned me with a finger. “We need to talk.”

  “What part of I never want to see you again do you not understand?”

  “I’m not done with you.”

  Queenie’s drunk ass still hadn’t put it together that we weren’t a couple. She beamed at me. “He’s feisty.”

  I pointed at the exit, ignoring her. “Door’s there.”

  “I know where the fucking door is,” he barked, my sarcasm flying over his head. “I just walked through it.”

  “Good for you. You’ve mastered the basics of entering and exiting a building. Now turn around and do it again.”

  “Careful, Li. I’m in a mood.”

  “I’ll write down the name of Michael’s therapist. He’ll give you a discount for all the sessions you’ll need.”

  Daniel had raised me to be a killer. He didn’t back down until someone was on the floor, bleeding. He’d lacked an instinct for self-preservation.

  Apparently, so did I.

  “You’re very brave tonight, considering I had you begging for mercy on Saturday.” His eyes narrowed into black slits as he grasped my jaw. “Remember?”

  His thumb brushed my bottom lip, echoing his promise to take it further.

  Fine. I’ll stop.

  My nerves tingled when he didn’t budge. “What?”

  “You’re here without bodyguards.” His voice pulsed with disapproval. “Get up.”

  “My apartment is four blocks from here.”

  “I don’t care. We’re going.”

  He grabbed me, but I twisted out of his grip.

  Vinn fumed. “You’re driving me up the wall.”

  Sorry, not sorry. “This might be tough for you to understand, but I don’t need your approval.”

  “You need a lot more than my approval.”

  Like your big dick?

  I almost rattled off the saucy response before I remembered this man wasn’t the brotherly figure who’d stopped Michael from committing countless pranks. He’d threatened to shove his cock into my mouth two days ago, which should’ve bottomed my stomach. Heat pricked the skin around my lips as I imagined his hands slamming into my shoulders, making me kneel, forcing me to take him.

  The hell was wrong with me?

  I pulled from him, overwhelmed. “I’m not leaving.”

  “I swear to God, Li. If you weren’t my best friend’s sister, I’d throw you over my goddamned shoulder. Twenty minutes, and then your little ass is out that door.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.” Vinn sat beside me, shooting James a pointed glare. “The fuck you looking at?”

  James snapped his head to the side, cowed. My other friends had noticed nothing strange. Luckily, they’d been distracted by pickleback shots.

  Vinn sank into the couch, his back ramrod straight, unaware of the dark spell he’d cast on the group. He had a menacing presence and intimidated everyone I knew.

  The overprivileged, pampered, indulged kids at Bourton could never understand the criminal underworld that’d made him ruthless
. Most people wouldn’t recognize him unless they stayed up to date with local news, but some had probably seen or heard his name mentioned in connection with gangland shootings or thrown in with the Commission of Public Inquiry.

  “Everyone, this is Vinn Costa.” I searched for the words to describe him. “He’s a family friend.”

  “Just a friend, huh?” James’s round face trembled with a good-natured grin. “I thought you wanted to kill me.”

  Vinn was supposed to laugh and apologize. He did neither. He stared, his expression blank.

  I grimaced at James. “Sorry. He’s a bit extra.”

  “You’re him,” Queenie blurted, shattering the tense silence. “You’re the guy!”

  Vinn gaped at her, ignoring James.

  “Yeah,” she gushed. “You’re the one she talks about! Vinny!”

  His mouth fell open. Then he turned, his eyes raking my burning face. ”I’m the guy? You talk about me?”

  Cat’s out of the bag.

  Fuck.

  “No, I don’t.” I dismissed Queenie with a wave, and she snickered into her drink. “She’s drunk.”

  Vinn leaned toward Queenie. “What does she say?”

  “A lot. Most of it’s too inappropriate to repeat.”

  He laughed, the loudness stunning me. “I’ve got to hear this.”

  I waved my hands behind Vinn, mouthing a silent plea. Queenie, stop.

  “You’re dating him. What’s the big deal?” She huffed, turning her attention to Vinn. “If you guys aren’t married and pregnant by the end of the year, I’ll be shocked.”

  I would kill her. “Queenie!”

  “Huh. Imagine that.”

  “Oh, she has. Many times, buddy.” Queenie giggled, offering him a glass that he declined. “You sure you don’t want a drink?”

  I winced hard, very conscious of Vinn’s stare. “Queenie, please shut the hell up.”

  She grimaced. “Sorry. I’m pretty lit.”

  I’d take care of her later.

  I had a more significant concern—Vinn.

  He’d corner me afterward and mock me about this revelation. Worse, he might think I still felt the same, but I didn’t. I’d stopped obsessing over Vinn a while ago, but, of course, Queenie wouldn’t forget the years I’d spent moping in our shared dorm.