MAFIA BOSSES - The Box Set: An Enemies to Lovers Trilogy

by Chloe Fischer

  Andrea’s heart began to pound and she perked up her ears, shooting Tracey a sidelong look.

  “What makes you say that?” she asked curiously. “Why to a fault?”

  Tracey grimaced, grabbing a freshly printed chit from the machine and Andrea took her cue, pretending to busy herself with the standing orders.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled but Andrea could tell she was close to learning something about Marco.

  “You wouldn’t have said anything if it didn’t mean something,” she replied, trying to keep her voice light. “Come on, girl, spill. I’m just trying to learn my way around here…especially with Marco.”

  She hoped there was enough plaintiveness in her voice to win over the skeptical bartender.

  To her relief, Tracey’s face seemed to relax slightly.

  “These guys are tough,” she offered, lowering her voice. “But they can get taken in by a beautiful girl who works her way into their lives, you know what I mean?”

  Andrea’s breath caught in her throat, but she only nodded.

  “Marco is smarter than these paesanos,” Tracey continued. “But he got screwed over once too.”

  A fission of alarm and jealousy flowed through her, but she forced herself to remain composed.

  “He got his heart broken?” she asked innocently and Tracey scoffed.

  “Marco Sardelli is not a fool,” she reassured, sliding a tray of drinks toward a waiting server. She waited until he marched off before turning back to Andrea.

  “Mara Cordoza was sexy and she had her charms, but there was something about her which didn’t sit well with anyone. And if Marco wasn’t thinking with his cock, he would have seen what she was all about long before the shit hit the fan. He never loved her. But he figured it out eventually and dealt with her.”

  Beads of sweat popped out along Andrea’s hairline.

  Steady your breaths, she warned herself. Don’t give yourself away.

  “What happened?” Andrea whispered while silently praying she did not do anything to arouse suspicion.

  “No idea,” Tracey replied shortly. “All I know is that one day she was here and then she wasn’t. No one really talked about what happened much.”

  Andrea’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You know what happened,” she insisted. “You know everything that goes on around here, don’t you?”

  A faint smile touched Tracey’s full mouth and she shrugged indifferently.

  “I have an idea,” she replied evenly, and Andrea waited, gulping back her nervousness.

  “Well?”

  “I think when Marco found out, Mara ran off with Sammy.”

  “What? Who – ”

  The question flew from her mouth before she could stop herself but she was sure she had misunderstood Tracey’s statement.

  “What? When Marco found out about her and Sammy Gallo, I think she feared for her life,” Tracey explained. “If Giovanni ever found out Mara was sleeping with Sammy “Saturday” Gallo, she was as good as dead anyway. The smartest thing she could do was take off before Giovanni got his hands on her.”

  Sammy Gallo…he’s the underboss of the Petucci family. Valentina was cheating on Marco with him?

  So many emotions swept through Andrea in that moment, she was unsure of how she felt.

  So, her beautiful cousin had never been outed as an undercover agent? She was actually having an affair with a member of a rival family. Could this be true?

  “She was cheating on Marco…did he… kill her?”

  Immediately, Andrea wanted to take the words back but it was too late.

  Tracey smiled mirthlessly.

  “For cheating on him?” Tracey snickered. “Hardly. Marco loves women to a fault. He took care of his mom after his dad was killed while his brothers tried to have her committed. If anything, Marco probably warned Mara to get the fuck out of town before Giovanni got to her.”

  “Are you sure?” Andrea demanded, her voice rising an octave. “Are you sure that he didn’t do anything to her?”

  Tracey’s brow furrowed and she examined Andrea’s face pointedly.

  “I know this is new to you, girl, and that Miami is a different place than where you come from, but if you’re gonna roll with these guys, you’re gonna have to learn that sometimes, this shit comes with the territory.”

  Andrea closed her eyes, inhaling sharply.

  “I get it,” she replied slowly. “But I also need to know if my boyfriend would kill me because he suspected I was cheating on him.”

  “Touché,” Tracey chuckled. “But the answer is no. Marco didn’t touch her.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I just know,” Tracey replied, trying to turn away from her to make the next tray of drinks, but Andrea grabbed her arm.

  “How?”

  Tracey was suddenly uncomfortable, her blue eyes narrowing as she stared at Andrea.

  “You’re acting crazy, Sofia. Get a grip before you attract attention to yourself.”

  “Do you blame me?” she squeaked, refusing to let Tracey off the hook. “Please tell me how you know for certain that Marco didn’t kill Mara.”

  Tracey sighed deeply and looked around the bar to see if they were being overheard before grabbing Andrea by the collar of her shirt and pulling her into the supply room.

  “If you tell anyone this, including Marco, I will hunt you down and murder you myself. Is that clear?”

  Andrea stared into her eyes and could read the truth in her statement.

  “Nod if you understand what I’m saying.”

  She nodded vehemently, but Tracey still hesitated.

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this – “

  “Oh my God, Tracey!” Andrea yelled, the suspense killing her. “Just fucking tell me what you know!”

  “Mara is alive and hidden where no one can find her.”

  Andrea gaped at her in disbelief.

  There is no way that Valentina would be hidden and not reach out to her mom to tell her she was okay. Tracey has to be lying.

  But Andrea discerned more than a glimmer of truth in Tracey’s gaze. And her instinct wanted so badly to trust the busty blonde. She pinned her with an earnest stare.

  “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true.”

  “How can you know that? Is that what they’ve told you?” Andrea sighed dully. “Because they could tell you anything.”

  A quick, knowing smile formed on Tracey’s lips and she shook her head.

  “I learned long ago not to trust these stronzos,” she replied quietly, again looking over Andrea’s shoulder to ensure they were still alone. “I only believe what I can see.”

  “And you’ve seen Mara alive?” Andrea gasped.

  “I’m the one who hid her away,” Tracey confessed, with more than a little pride. “I had to. Mara is my lover.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He checked the phone again, gritting his teeth as he waited.

  Where the fuck is she?

  Her shift had ended over two hours ago and Marco had made himself comfortable in her apartment, waiting for her to get back home.

  It was the only thing that had gotten him through the day.

  Despite his frustration with how his day had gone so far, his unit was swollen in anticipation of seeing her again. He decided magnanimously that he was willing to forgive her lateness – after he took her on the hallway floor the second she walked into her apartment, that was.

  But she wasn’t answering her phone or texts, and his anxiety was mounting.

  The day had been long, the shipment finally making its way through an inlet at Biscayne Bay.

  It only took a fucking week but it’s here. Now Gio will get off my ass for a while.

  The don had not taken to Sofia’s placement at Il Toro well, but Marco had anticipated his dismay.

  “I don’t know a fucking thing about this broad!” the old man exploded. “You expect me
to give her a place in my restaurant?”

  “I already gave her the job,” Marco replied smoothly. “Think of it as insurance that she won’t sue you for the assault which occurred in your restaurant.”

  It had been the wrong thing to say.

  Giovanni’s eyes turned black and he leaned forward, his voice a strangled whisper.

  “She’s gonna fucking blackmail me?”

  Marco held up his hands to stop his boss’s train of thought.

  “Of course not,” he answered. “She’s not fucking stupid and she’s not that kind of girl. I’m saying that she’s new to Miami, a pretty, southern girl who needs a job. If what happened with that fuck-up August happens to get out, at least it will show that you are trying to do right by the girl.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re fucking the girl?” Gio asked caustically and Marco forced himself to remain passive.

  “So what if I am?” he replied calmly.

  “She’s better than that other one – Maria,” Gio conceded, and Marco bristled.

  “Mara.”

  “Whatever. Good riddance to her. I never liked that one.”

  Marco got a firm grip on his control, willing himself not to take the bait.

  “So? We’re good then?”

  Gio snorted.

  “What the fuck do I care? If Tracey can tolerate her, I don’t give a shit.”

  And that had been the end of that conversation, but it had dredged up the old questions about Mara. Questions he did not have answers to.

  What had happened to that woman? Was she really banging Sammy Gallo?

  He recalled the night he had smashed the bathroom door down to find her cowering over her phone.

  “Open the door, Mara,” he had demanded, his amusement becoming anger.

  “No!” she snapped. “Leave me alone!”

  He pounded on the door.

  “Mara, open the fucking door,” he snarled. “Or I’m going to bust it down.”

  “Fuck off, Marco,” she retorted.

  The words sent a spark of rage through him, and before he could stop himself, his foot lashed out, splintering the frame of the door apart.

  Mara choked and gasped, her cell phone falling from her hand as she jumped up from the toilet seat cover.

  “Marco!” she gasped.

  “Who the fuck are you talking to?”

  “No one!” she panted, reaching for the phone but Marco kicked it out of her reach, snapping it up before she could touch it.

  A red film covered his eyes as he grabbed for the fallen device, reading the texts on the screen.

  As if in slow motion, he lifted his head and stared at her, his breath catching in his chest.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  Her lips parted but no words came out.

  Mara’s face turned opaque with fear, her arms raised as he approached.

  “Marco, please!” she squealed. “Please calm down!”

  “Calm down?” he echoed. “Fucking calm down? What the fuck is this? You’ve been fucking lying to me, to everyone!”

  “I can explain!”

  “There is no explanation for this,” he breathed,

  Slowly, he turned to look at himself in the mirror but he didn’t recognize the face staring back at him.

  His eyes narrowed in fury, his dark waves an unkempt mess around his livid face.

  In that moment, he wasn’t sure what he was capable of.

  “Who the fuck is this? Who are you sending pics of yourself half-naked to from my fucking bathroom?”

  She rose abruptly, her eyes flashing with indignation as she snatched the cell out of his hand.

  “I’m leaving,” she hissed. “Fuck this. Fuck all of this.”

  There was something in her face, a look which told him that she had reached a breaking point he hadn’t noticed her approaching before.

  “Mara! Get your ass back here!” he roared, chasing after her but she was gone, the door to the condo reverberating as she slammed it in her wake.

  And no one had seen her again.

  Rumors flew through their acquaintances, of people who had seen her in Fort Lauderdale or down in Homestead.

  Someone had claimed she had run off with Sammy Gallo while another said she was a federal agent. Marco had even heard whispers that he had been “responsible” for her disappearance. At least he knew that one was untrue.

  All Marco knew was that she had deceived him and the lack of closure still burned at him.

  I don’t miss her at all, but I would like to know if she’s still alive or not.

  And for the first time in years, he was looking forward to a future.

  One with Sofia.

  Except suddenly, Sofia was nowhere to be found, not answering her phone – exactly like it had started with Mara.

  They are not the same person and you don’t need to be a possessive asshole. She doesn’t need to answer to you.

  It didn’t matter how he tried to placate himself, his disquiet only grew.

  What the fuck is she doing? She knew I would be here when she got off work.

  He rose from the sofa, pacing restlessly through the space.

  She’ll be home eventually. She has to be.

  As he pulled open the fridge door, restless habits taking over, he heard a rustling in the hallway beyond the entranceway.

  “Fucking finally,” he grumbled, stalking into the front hallway to throw open the door.

  As he did, a piece of paper slid underneath and a man jumped up in shock to see Marco standing there angry and shirtless.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Marco growled, advancing on the man.

  “I’m the super,” he squeaked, his face turning ashen. “I’m just leaving a note for Ms. Morano.”

  Marco’s mouth twisted into a sneer.

  “It’s two o’clock in the morning!”

  “I work late,” the man insisted, backing away and Marco was struck by the cagey look of the man.

  Immediately his suspicions skyrocketed.

  “What do you want?” he demanded, barely holding himself back from grabbing the man’s shirt and shaking the answer out of him.

  “I’m just telling her I’m coming to fix the toilet tomorrow! It’s in the note!”

  Marco’s blazing eyes became slits of suspicion.

  “The toilet?” he said skeptically, his mind whirling.

  “Yeah. Can I go?”

  Without waiting for a response, the nervous man turned and bolted, shooting past the elevator to duck into the stairwell.

  The super. At two o’clock in the morning. Fixing the toilet. Again.

  Marco retreated into Sofia’s apartment, his pulse racing as he leaned down to retrieve the note on a piece of scrap paper.

  Fixing the toilet tomorrow. D.

  He shut the door slowly, remembering that he was half naked, but at least his erection had completely vanished.

  His sixth sense was screaming at him.

  The toilet was supposed to have been fixed last week.

  Marco made his way into the bathroom, flicking on the light in his wake.

  There did not appear to be anything wrong with the unit as he flushed it experimentally, his eyes scanning the porcelain for cracks or leaks.

  He lifted the lid of the tank to be sure, eyeing the almost pristine parts inside.

  The toilet was brand new.

  There’s nothing wrong with this toilet. What the hell is going on?

  There was only one explanation that Marco could think of.

  The same reason that Sofia would not be home two hours after her shift was over.

  Why do I keep picking such fucking bitches? He thought furiously, slamming out of the bathroom to grab his shirt.

  He would have to catch her in the act or else she would deny it, just as Mara had.

  Marco paused for a moment, trying to get a grip on his anger.

  She’s not Mara, a small voice whispered in his head but he silenced it.


  He was not about to make the same mistake twice, not when he had finally let his guard down with someone else.

  Never again, he vowed, clenching his even, white teeth. I can’t trust anyone, not even myself, apparently.

  Slowly, he put on his shoes, recognizing that he was deliberately taking his time as he went through the motions, hoping Sofia would come home before he left.

  He didn’t want to storm out of the apartment with unanswered questions. He wanted to demand she tell him where she had been and why her superintendent visited her apartment in the middle of the night.

  I want to fight with her, goddammit! And have a loud, rip-roaring argument so I can rip off her clothes and bend her over the sofa’s arm until she pleads for forgiveness for upsetting me.

  Once more, his shaft began to tighten in his pants and Marco found himself wracked by conflicting emotions.

  He didn’t want to walk away from Sofia, her stunningly beautiful face etched in his mind, the way her lips parted into a breathless “O” of surprise when he draped her legs over his shoulders and tasted her dripping center.

  Marco began questioning his own doubts and it filled him with consternation. But then that little voice of reason chimed in.

  I’m overreacting to circumstantial evidence, he told himself, the words somehow calming his incensed mind. You don’t own her. If she wants to go out after work, she can. And she has no control over when her idiotic super comes calling.

  He flopped back on the sofa, trying to sort out his thoughts.

  It had been such a long day, a long week, a long fucking life.

  I’m so tired of all the shit, he thought suddenly. My life is full of incessant doubt and suspicion. I can’t fucking enjoy anything anymore. This is no way to live.

  His pulse was regaining normalcy and he decided to remain in the apartment and talk to Sofia – if she ever decided to come home.

  I can’t make assumptions. I need to talk to –

  His thoughts were cut short as he heard a distant chiming, unmistakably that of a cell phone.

  He bolted upright, his ears perking toward the sound coming from the bedroom.

  Is her phone here?

  Marco was certain he had not heard it ringing when he had tried to call her several times earlier, but he was just as sure that the noise he had heard was a cell phone.