Mafia King (Royal Mafia Book 3)

Home > Other > Mafia King (Royal Mafia Book 3) > Page 17
Mafia King (Royal Mafia Book 3) Page 17

by Bella J.


  “It’s beautiful,” she said, wrapping her arms around her body.

  I continued to stare at her, keeping my gaze on my hands as I tenderly eased my fingers down her sides. “It sure is.” As my hands reached her hips, I squeezed softly. “Tell me something.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “What would you like me to tell you?”

  “I don’t know. Anything. Something about you—a memory of before this cruel world stole you.”

  I felt her tense before she let out a breath. It was probably insensitive of me asking her about something that might be difficult for her to share, but I wanted to know her. The real her. Not the girl I found in a container. Not the girl who had been programmed to do as commanded. But the woman inside, even if it was just little bits and pieces.

  She looked back up at the sky. “I remember a night like this one. Beautiful. Calm. Serene. Until…” Her voice trailed off.

  I placed a kiss on her naked shoulder, remaining silent, giving her the time she needed.

  “Until it all changed. Until the calm turned to chaos.” She breathed in, her shoulders moving against my chest. Then she let out a sigh. “The last night I saw her.”

  “Who?”

  “My mother.”

  “What happened to her?”

  She took a few breaths before finally answering. “She died.”

  Jesus. “I’m sorry, Doe.”

  Doe started to rub her hands up and down her arms. “I still remember her face, her eyes.” Her voice quivered. “I remember what it looked like while the life drained out of her.”

  “Doe—”

  “I was at the neighbors’ when she came storming in, grabbing me and rushing to our apartment. I tried to ask what was going on, but she was too busy packing, telling me that we needed to leave.”

  My mind scattered with warning. I was beginning to regret asking, prying, wanting to know something about her that wasn’t tainted. I should have known a woman like her only had ruin and destruction in her past—no matter how far or how distant.

  I wrapped my arms around her body and felt a teardrop fall on my arm.

  “Someone tried to break down our front door when my mom told me to hide under the bed. I cried. I cried so hard while I kept asking what was going on.”

  “Doe, stop—”

  “She kept on saying I needed to hide from the bad men, and no matter what happened, I should stay under the bed, be brave and hide as best I could.” More tears slipped from her face and onto my skin.

  “Doe, you don’t have to—”

  “I remember how she begged, pleading with them to leave us alone. I could hear the fear in her voice, and I bit so hard into my tongue to keep quiet, I tasted blood the entire time.” The words started to pour out of her mouth as if she was right there in the memory, and she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t stop reliving it.

  “And then her begging stopped, a few seconds of silence following.” Her body fell back against mine, and I enclosed my arms around her, keeping her from collapsing. “And then she fell to the floor right next to my bed. I blinked. I only blinked once, and then…” she whimpered, “blood. So much blood. It pooled around her, oozing from her neck, making its way toward me across the wooden floors. I tried to move away. I tried to scurry back. But it wouldn’t stop flowing. It wouldn’t stop. My hands, my arms, my clothes, everything was covered in blood. And the smell—”

  “Stop!” I swung her around to face me. “Stop. Don’t go there. I’m sorry I asked.”

  “I failed my mother that night. I screamed. I screamed so loud, letting the bad men know I was there. I heard their footsteps, their cursing…but then, gunshots. Loud, deafening gunshots.” She sucked in a breath. “It was him. My angel. My angel who came to save me.”

  Something wasn’t right, I could feel it in my bones. “Doe, who was he? Who was this man?”

  Her gaze settled beside me, as if she was staring into a void. “He was my angel.”

  “Doe.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, searching her face. “You’re not making any sense.”

  And then her eyes met mine. “He was my angel…the angel who gave me to the devil.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “He called me Nessuno. Nobody.”

  I palmed her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “You are somebody. Do you hear me? You are somebody!”

  With a tearstained face, blood-red eyes, and a helplessness that reached to the deepest part of my humanity, she looked up at me and whispered, “Alessia.”

  I stilled.

  “My name.” Her voice was soft, cautious. “My name is Alessia.”

  ***

  Doe

  It was probably the stupidest thing I had done in a long time and I would most likely pay for my mistake. But while I stared into his eyes, believing what I saw was sympathy, compassion, even a little understanding, I felt the need to say it. I felt the need to give that part of me to him. The part I had never given to any man.

  Me.

  My identity.

  My true self.

  It had been years since I said my real name. Alessia. And like broken glass, the name sliced its way up my throat, out my mouth. Jagged shards of the past pierced my heart, the pain ripping through my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I heard was my name and the sound of my mother’s voice.

  “Be brave, Alessia. Always be brave.”

  And I tried. I tried my best to stay brave, even when my body was overcome with fear, my soul stripped bare. I kept trying to be brave…for her.

  Antonio pulled me into him, his arms a tight barrier around me. “Alessia,” he whispered into my hair. “A beautiful name, for a beautiful, broken girl.”

  I cried against his naked shoulder, my tears seeping into his flesh as if I was pouring my soul into his. Making my pain his own. The way he stroked his fingers through my hair, all along my spine, I allowed myself to appreciate his comforting touch. I allowed myself the brief moment of security of being in his arms, the heat of his skin thawing the ice in my lungs. The longer I stood there, his wild spice scent enveloping me, the easier it became for me to breathe, to live through the ache of past memories. Every fiber of my being wanted to believe this moment was real—that Antonio was real. That maybe after all these years, an angel did finally come, not to rescue me, but to heal me. But I made that mistake once, thinking it was an angel who saved me, only to realize it was the devil who stole me. Was I strong enough to finally risk such hope again?

  Antonio leaned back, staring down at me, sheer determination beaming from the darkest pits of his irises. “Do you know who this man was? The man who took you?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Was he young, old? Did he have an accent? Anything?”

  “I was so young.” I continued to shake my head. “I remember he had a tattoo. A small cross, behind his ear.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “No. Nothing else. Why?”

  Antonio lowered his head, placing a kiss on my shoulder before whispering, “Because I’m going to find him…and then I’m going to kill him.”

  Chapter 23

  Antonio

  My hit list was becoming increasingly longer by the fucking day. But I didn’t give two flying fucks if I had to go on a murderous rampage, killing every motherfucker I could get my hands on. I would find each and every son of a bitch who had a hand in Doe—Alessia’s ruin.

  God, it was a beautiful name. Alessia. I wasn’t bullshitting when I said it was a beautiful name for a beautiful, broken girl. But there was still so much more of her to uncover. More I had to learn about her and the mystery that surrounded her. She was an enigma, a puzzle I wanted to solve, and slowly but surely I would accomplish just that. But now, my broken girl needed some rest.

  “Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

  Like the obedient little lamb she was, she followed me without hesitation. I loved and hated it. I loved that she obeyed me without question,
but hated the way she was turned into this docile, tame little pet.

  I closed the balcony doors then walked toward the bed. Doe stayed behind, her gaze cutting from one side of the room to the other, as if she didn’t know where to look.

  “Doe, get into bed.” I lifted the covers, inviting her to get in.

  Her eyes snapped up to mine. “Bed? With you?”

  “Yeah. Unless you want to sleep on the floor because there is no way I’m—” It hit me like a fucking wrecking ball right to the head. “Oh, fuck. Doe, no. I didn’t mean…shit. You’re not sleeping on the goddamn floor.”

  I rushed over to her then swept her up in my arms. The yelp that came from her lips made my cock twitch. I carried her across the room then eased her on the mattress. I knew the right thing to do was probably to ask her if she even wanted to share the bed with me. But the truth was, I didn’t care. Again, selfish bastard. But I wanted her next to me. I wanted to feel her naked body against mine while I listened to her breathing. And asking her if she wanted to sleep next to me carried a risk of her saying no—a risk I didn’t want to take.

  Now, I didn’t do the whole cuddle thing. I didn’t do spooning. In fact, I avoided it like the fucking plague. But when I got in behind her, feeling her naked body against mine, it was like a natural reaction for me to put my arm around her. I was fucking spooning.

  With my chest against her back, my cock perfectly aligned along her ass, and my knees folded into hers, I fucking spooned. Best part, it didn’t feel weird at all. It felt good, as if she was mine to protect, mine to hold. Spooning was fucking awesome.

  For the longest time, we lay there with only the sound of our rhythmic breathing breaking the silence around us. I would have been a fool if I thought I was the best man for her. But in my mind, whether I was the best man for her not, I was the only man for her. There was no denying the possessive fuck that I was. Jealous, possessive, covetous, and controlling. Four words which described me perfectly. And while I lay there, loving the way she felt against me, I knew not even the devil himself would have been able to rip this beautiful, broken girl from me. Never.

  I nuzzled my face into her raven hair, then placed my lips against her ear. “I’m not one of the good guys who can save you, Doe.” I tightened my grip around her waist. “But I’m the bad motherfucker who will raise hell in order to protect you.”

  “I’m not sure if I’m worth protecting.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “He will come for me. I know he will.”

  “And I’ll be ready for him.” I pushed myself up on my elbow and pulled her onto her back. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”

  “Why? Why do you want to protect me? You owe me nothing.”

  I placed my hand on the side of her face and leaned closer, my lips only a few inches from hers. “I was taught to always protect what’s mine, and you, Doe,” gently I brushed my lips against hers, “you are mine now.”

  With a leisurely sweep of my tongue through her decadent mouth, I allowed myself another taste of her. Deep down, I knew I was no better than the fuckers who had owned her before, because here I was, yet another man staking his claim over her. But there was one huge difference between me and all the bastards before me…I wasn’t planning on letting her go.

  I forced myself to pull away. If I had to kiss her for one second longer, I would find myself buried deep between her legs within a fucking minute. And although I was an asshole, I knew after everything that happened tonight, she needed to rest. So, I settled in behind her and held her, my arm moving in harmony with her rhythmic breathing. It wasn’t long before I knew she had fallen asleep. I could hear it in the gentle way her breath eased over her lips.

  For so many years, I prided myself on being a hardened man. After all, the world we lived in demanded it. This world would swallow you whole and spit you out if you had anything other than ice in your veins and steel in your bones. But for some unexplainable reason, the woman lying peacefully in my arms had bewitched me into being whoever the fuck she needed me to be.

  Unable to sleep, and not wanting to disturb Doe, I eased out of the bed. When I glanced back at her, her long, lush raven hair splayed over the white pillows, her cheeks a healthy pink, and her full, heart-shaped lips slightly parted, she no longer looked like the slave we found at the harbor, but rather an exquisite woman with the potential to be my queen…and my downfall.

  I grabbed my clothes and got dressed. As I reached for the door, I looked back at her one more time. The sheet only covered half her body, the enticing curve of her hips beckoning me to get back in behind her. But even though she had now become my responsibility, I had other issues to tend to as well.

  With an aching cock and a need to fuck this woman until her vocabulary only consisted of my goddamn name, I left. I fucking left. Why? Because I was trying to be a better fucking man. But as I closed the door, looking down at the lock, I knew the little trust I had earned from her would be broken if I had to lock the door, which was why I had ordered two men to stand at each side of the hall. Call it a protection detail, if you must. But with Vadik still out there, and the threat that hung over all our heads, I couldn’t chance it.

  I grabbed my cell phone from my pants pocket and noticed twelve missed calls. Fucking twelve! All from Lucio. I prayed to God it wasn’t bad news about Lorik.

  Lucio picked up on the second ring. “Motherfucker, I wanted to send a goddamn search team after you.”

  “Why didn’t you?’

  “Because I tracked your phone and saw you were at the house.”

  I balked. “You tracked my phone?”

  “How many times are we going to do this dance, cousin? I’m in charge of security. Security is my thing. Keeping tabs on all you assholes is what I do.”

  With my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose, I breathed deep. “Did you take care of it?” And by it, I meant the dead Russian fucker.

  “Yes.”

  “Any word on Lorik?”

  “He’s not out of the woods yet, but stable.”

  “Okay. So, why the twelve missed calls?”

  “It’s Mancuso.”

  Instantly, my instincts went apeshit. With the Russian fuckers and the whole thing surrounding Doe, all of us got sidetracked and lost focus when it came to Stefano Mancuso.

  “What about him?”

  “He’s been spotted down by the harbor.”

  “What?” I spat into the receiver.

  “I’m here now, but there’s no trace of him.”

  “Jesus. Okay, call in every favor, and use all the resources you got. If he’s here, we have to find him.”

  “On it.”

  I hung up and dropped the motherlode of f-bombs. I had been so distracted by the Russians, by finding Vadik, that I might just have let my last chance at finding Mancuso slip through my fingers. “Fuck!”

  ***

  It was a long-ass night. After leaving Doe’s room, I realized I wasn’t going to get any sleep, so I took a shower then spent the rest of the night in my study. Lucio hadn’t made contact since our conversation earlier, which told me he had no new leads. And Karina wasn’t taking my calls—which was to be expected. No one held a fucking grudge like an Italian woman. I’d be lucky if she ever spoke to me again in this goddamn lifetime. Motherfucking Lorik had better pull through. He was the only one who could handle my sister’s female Italian temper.

  The phone on my desk rang, which meant the call came from inside the house. Since there was no one here besides me, Doe—Alessia—and a shit load of security guys who would only contact me on my mobile, I knew it could only be housekeeping.

  “Yes…Okay. I’ll be right there.”

  I hung up and placed the file I had on Vadik back in the vault before making my way to Doe’s room. Or Alessia. Fuck. Going from Nessuno, to Doe, to Alessia was putting me through a mindfuck of epic proportions. I could only imagine how she had to feel.


  When I reached the first floor and made my way down the hall, one of the men on Doe’s security detail approached me. “We knocked to check on her, but she hasn’t answered. We didn’t want to go in without your permission.”

  I nodded. Fucker could be glad he didn’t go in without my permission. If Doe was still sleeping naked, I would have had to cut out the poor bastard’s eyeballs.

  Not even bothering to knock, I walked right into the room. But she wasn’t in the bed. “Doe?”

  I heard the shower running. “Doe?”

  A cloud of steam escaped the bathroom when I opened the door. “Doe? Are you okay?”

  When the steam finally cleared, I sucked in a breath when I saw her, sitting huddled up against the wall while the shower pulsed over her naked body.

  “Jesus, Doe.” I stormed in, not caring about ruining a five-thousand-dollar suit, and cursed when I felt the scorching hot water against the back of my neck. “What are you doing?”

  Her skin was blazing red, hair wet and tangled. And as I picked her up, carrying her out of the shower, she looked up at me with surprise. “You came back.”

  “What?” I placed her down on the edge of the bath and wrapped a towel around her. “Of course, I came back. Why would you say that?”

  Fuck, I was soaking wet. I crouched down in front of her. “Doe, what’s wrong?”

  “I woke up, and you…you were gone. I thought I had done something wrong.”

  “Oh, God, no. No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” I pulled her down into my lap, her skin still warm. “I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  She leaned into me, her body starting to shiver. “I thought you left. I thought he would come for me.”

  “Jesus Christ, Doe. No.” I lifted her face toward mine. “Did I not tell you that I’ll protect you?”

  Hesitantly, she reached up—her soft, sad, beautiful eyes never leaving mine—and just as her hand came within inches from my face, she stilled. She wanted to touch me, but I could see the uncertainty swirl between the golden specks of her irises. So, I inched forward, placing my cheek against her palm, giving her the permission she needed.

 

‹ Prev