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

by Chloe Fischer

  Cara nodded and lowered her eyes in contrition.

  “You’re right,” she relented. “I’m sorry.”

  His frame slowly backed off and he leaned away from her as she had known he would.

  “If you’d just do as you’re told, Cara, you wouldn’t piss off me and Papa so much,” he continued, apparently on his lecture tirade. “And then you wouldn’t find yourself crying that life is unfair to you.”

  Cara bit her tongue and nodded.

  “You’re right,” she said again, hoping he would finish his soliloquy before she threw something at his head.

  He eyed her and nodded curtly.

  “Okay,” he said but there was an uncertainty in his voice. Salvatore turned to leave the room and he glanced at Ginny on the way out the door.

  “Maybe you don’t need to sit in the same room as her all the time,” he muttered to the maid. “Just keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”

  Cara exhaled as Ginny scrambled to her feet looking confused.

  “I can leave?” the girl asked with more eagerness than was good for Cara’s ego. Both women looked expectantly at Salvatore who nodded curtly.

  “Yes, but don’t venture far,” he grumbled. Cara had never seen someone move as fast as Ginny made for the door. She tried to ignore the pang of regret she felt watching the maid flee and focus on the positive.

  Score one for me, Cara thought.

  Chapter 4

  “I love these parties!” Florentina gushed, twisting to stare at herself in the full-length mirror. “I don’t know why Giovanni doesn’t have them more often.”

  Tomas and Matteo exchanged a wordless glance —the Don had parties far too frequently for their taste. But neither man would discount Florentina’s almost infectious excitement. They relished every happy moment she found, the memory of her illness still fresh on their minds.

  Anyway, the purpose of the party that evening was a welcome to the Vinuccis and Matteo would have rather eaten glass than attend the event at Il Toro, but he was hardly in a position to argue. He knew if he didn’t show, he might very well be eating glass as punishment.

  For three days, he had thought of almost nothing besides the day he would inevitably run into Cara Vinucci again. The battle waged back and forth in his mind.

  Punish her, or ignore her.

  That was a lifetime ago. We were kids, the logical side of him said, but the deeply scarred boy who still lived inside him knew that it was not that simple, that Cara Vinucci needed to be taught a lesson. And he wasn’t the only child she had tormented either.

  She should pay for that. Even children know the difference between right and wrong. There is no excuse for how she treated the younger or smaller kids then.

  And it wasn’t like she lifted a finger against any one of them. No, she had gotten the big boys to do her dirty work for her. The younger children like Matteo couldn’t possibly have fought back against a group of boys twice their size.

  “Come on, Tina,” Tomas said. “We’re going to be late for dinner if you keep gawking at yourself.”

  “I can’t help it!” she replied. “I just look so damned good. Come on, Tomas, you have to admit that your sister is beautiful.”

  “I would never admit something like that,” he grouched teasingly, and they both laughed.

  “You look beautiful, Mama,” Matteo interjected and Florentina patted his face with her palm.

  “You’re a good boy, Matteo. I am proud of the man you’ve become,” she told him earnestly.

  “We’re going to dinner, not his graduation,” Tomas groaned, interrupting the moment between mother and son. “And I’m starving. Can we go?”

  The family shuffled out the door toward Matteo’s BMW. He held the passenger door open for his mother while his uncle claimed the backseat, and as he walked around the front of the car, he realized his fists were clenched.

  I need to decide what I’m going to do with her fast, he realized. Before I do something I’ll…regret in public.

  “Are you going to put the car in reverse?” Tomas asked from the backseat, jarring him back to reality.

  Here we go.

  ~ ~ ~

  They were late as Tomas predicted and parking was a nightmare, but it gave Matteo a fission of hope when he saw how many people had turned out for Giovanni’s dinner.

  Anything for free food and wine, Matteo couldn’t help but think wryly, but the crowd of people made him feel much better. The chances of seeing Cara there seemed slim in the horde of people. He still had no way of knowing what his physical reaction would be to seeing her face-to-face. Matteo liked to think he was mature enough to walk away but something inside him told a different story.

  He recognized Carlo Suzzi and his oversexed wife, Angela standing by like a couple of awkward stuffed pigs on a spit. As his mother and Tomas drifted away to make their rounds, Matteo’s eyes rested on Ariano near the bar with Freddy and another soldier, Frank Massuto.

  “There he is!” Ariano cried, holding up his beer in toast. Matteo could see that he was feeling no pain in the moment and he wondered what time Ariano had started drinking. He wished he’d had the forethought to start at home.

  “I need a drink,” Matteo heard himself say and the men whooped.

  “That can be arranged. Leila, a beer for this stronzo, por favore.” Ariano waved at the bartender and sighed, staring after her wistfully. “I miss Tracey.”

  Matteo had already turned back to stare into the crowd, lively Italian folk music increasing as the volume of the people did also.

  “Here, paesano. Drink it. If we’re going to be stuck toasting this leccaculo, I want to be good and drunk.”

  Matteo cast him a sidelong look and took the beer from his hand.

  “What do you have against him?” he asked. “He didn’t say anything to you.”

  Ariano seemed surprised by the question.

  “He was insulting you,” he replied. “For no good reason but to be a punk. It shows the fucker has a distinct lack of character and respect. I don’t want to roll out the red carpet for a man like that.”

  “Don’t say that,” Freddy groaned. “I have to work under him.”

  “Hey,” Matteo said, remembering suddenly. “What happened with that puttana, Brandy? Have you found her yet?”

  “We’re still looking for her, boss, but Bucky hasn’t been in touch with her. That I know for sure.”

  “Hey! Not your problem anymore,” Ariano reminded him in a singsong voice. “Let Salvatore work for his fucking paycheck.”

  Matteo grinned at the ice in Arian’s voice. The solidarity was heartwarming, even if Arian was drunk.

  “Where’s Celine? Don’t tell me she got out of this bullshit on some technicality.”

  “No, she’s here. She’s…” He looked around and Matteo’s eyes followed through the throng until Celine’s blonde head came into view.

  “Ah. She’s befriending the new girl,” Ariano confirmed, pointing. Matteo’s breath caught in his chest as Celine adjusted her long frame to the side slightly.

  There, lounging against the far bar, was Cara.

  Fuck! I knew the little brat would be gorgeous, he scowled to himself. She had blossomed into a stunningly beautiful woman.

  Even from the distance between them, he could see the full curve of her mouth, full lips that would make a man imagine them wrapped around his cock, and waves upon waves of fiery silken hair. Perfect for wrapping his fist around, he thought. The hair accented her clinging, low-cut dress, which displayed a slew of curves in precisely the right places.

  She was small and almost fairy like. Next to Celine’s tall, lithe frame, she seemed almost fragile, but with those stunning curves, it was impossible to deny that she was one hundred percent woman.

  But the flood of negative emotions which rocked his body was so intense, it was difficult to deny that the Carolina Vinucci on the other side of the room was the same girl who had made his life miserable.


  “You okay, paesano? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Matteo took a deep breath and tried to reign in the blast of fury that almost overtook him, suddenly aware that he had forgotten to breathe.

  “You should keep Celine away from that bitch,” he muttered, unable to take his eyes off the sultry Cara. “She destroys everything and everyone.”

  “I’ll let her know but I think we both know my girl can take care of herself,” Ariano said with pride.

  Why does she have to be so fucking sexy? I thought karma ensured that women like her became ugly and sprouted warts all over their faces. Fuck me!

  He was loath to admit it, but it was impossible to deny that every single man in the room, married and single, was going out of their way to ogle her.

  Abruptly, Cara’s head turned like she could feel his eyes fixed on her. Her mouth parted into an “O” of surprise and her eyes widened with recognition.

  There’s no way she could guess who I am. I look nothing like that fat little boy.

  Her lips twitched nervously as if deciding whether or not to smile, but her mouth didn’t fully curve upward. With her eyes still firmly on him, she spoke intently to Celine who also spun. To his chagrin, Celine’s face exploded into a wide smile and she waved him over.

  “Excuse me, boys. Celine is summoning me,” Ariano said, mistaking his girlfriend’s gestures as a call for him, but Matteo didn’t bother to correct him.

  He turned instead and signalled for Leila’s attention as his friend sauntered away.

  “He’s such a lucky prick to have Celine,” Freddy sighed. “I would love to tap a piece of ass like—”

  An open-handed smack on the side of his head stopped Freddy from finishing his sentence.

  “Have a little fucking respect!” Matteo snarled. “That is the Don’s daughter, and a lady, testa di cazzo! Don’t ever let me hear you talk about her like that again!”

  Freddy rubbed his ear, humiliation burning his face as Frank howled with laughter.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I was just paying her a compliment. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Shut up,” Matteo instructed and downed the shot Leila placed before him. He tapped the bar, indicating he wanted another one. “Just keep bringing them.”

  Matteo remained staring straight ahead, the alcohol bottles his only focus. He tried to get a grip on the fury roiling inside him, but the combination of the liquor and past memories was overwhelming him. He was finding it hard to think clearly.

  Pushing himself off the bar, he moved toward the nearest exit for air, pushing his way outside. He desperately wanted a cigarette but he’d quit two months before.

  That bitch has ruined enough for me. I’m not about to start smoking again because of her, he thought with resolve.

  “Matteo.”

  Aw, Fuck! he groaned inside his head.

  He didn’t need to turn to know who stood at his back. Of course her voice was different, softer and lilting, no trace of the shrill banshee he’d once dreaded.

  “Hello?” he turned around, forcing a confused smile on his lips. “Do I know you?”

  It wasn’t necessarily what he’d meant to say, but it was what came out. Her eyes widened, nearly popping from their sockets.

  Up close, her face was even more flawless than porcelain. He didn’t want to stare but he couldn’t seem to pull his gaze away from the delicate line of her cheekbone.

  She’s a walking piece of art. Oh, how I loathe her.

  But the stirring in his pants told him there was a fine line between loathing and lusting, although he seemed to be experiencing them both.

  “It’s me—Carolina.”

  He maintained the blank expression on his face, even though his heart pounded dangerously. Matteo wondered if she could hear it.

  “Hello, Carolina.”

  Her mouth pursed together and a flash of something indiscernible crossed through her eyes.

  Is she upset?

  The thought filled him with happiness.

  “We went to school together in Siena,” she reminded him and he released a short laugh.

  “Oh…I’m sorry, signorina. I don’t remember a lot about my life before coming here. I think of myself as an American now. I barely recall Italy at all,” he lied, willing her to believe his nonchalant words. He needed her to believe that she had not plagued his nightmares for years, even when there were oceans between them.

  “Really?” she gasped. “You don’t remember me at all?”

  He shrugged and shook his head. Relief touched her face and Matteo wanted to shout at her.

  You think you’re getting off that easily? Think again, puttana. I’ll make you rue the day you met me.

  “Nice to see you again,” he offered in a way of dismissal and she blushed slightly, shooting her eyes downward. She stepped back.

  “You too,” she murmured, turning away. As an afterthought, she glanced over her shoulder and gave him an almost shy smile.

  “You look good, Matteo. Really good.”

  She was gone before he could think of a cold response.

  If she thinks she’s going to win me over with those luscious breasts and flattery, she’s got another thing coming.

  Matteo only wished his engorged shaft was on his side.

  Chapter 5

  The encounter with Matteo left Cara feeling slightly uncomfortable, although she couldn’t say why exactly.

  He doesn’t seem to remember me, she thought but something in his eyes told her that he was lying.

  She stood outside the second-floor balcony, looking into the parking lot. Just beyond the cars below, she could barely make out the sound of Biscayne Bay lapping at a shoreline she couldn’t see. It was the only place to breathe in Il Toro but the sound of the party below still wafted up to meet her ears.

  A bunch of drunk stronzos looking at my ass, she thought with some bitterness. It’s all the same in any country, on any continent. They all want a piece of you in mind, body or soul.

  Cara didn’t want to be there and if she could have, she would have stayed in the mansion with Ginny spying on her every move. At the party, she felt like there were a hundred sets of prying eyes. Ginny didn’t seem so intrusive suddenly.

  At least Celine DiMarco is being kind to me.

  Although Cara sensed that there were ulterior motives to the Don’s daughter approaching her, she didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Still, she couldn’t help her inherent suspicion of everyone.

  She’s probably a spy too.

  It didn’t really matter—it had been so long since Cara had any tangible companionship, she welcomed the conversation with the attractive blonde woman. Cara probably still would have been clinging to her side if Celine hadn’t been called away by her boyfriend.

  “Dammit.”

  The sound of a man’s voice caused her to whirl around.

  “I didn’t know anyone was up here,” Matteo muttered, turning back to re-enter the second floor of the restaurant but Cara called out to stop him, unable to stop her eyes from raking over his broad, muscled torso. She could easily make out the definition of the abs beneath the crisp white of the button-down he wore.

  God, he looks nothing like he did before. Who would have ever thought he would grow up to be so hot?

  More shame coursed through her and she shook her head as he stared at her curiously.

  “You should stay. My brother is probably looking for me,” she lied. Salvatore was too busy enjoying his fifteen minutes of fame to give a rat’s ass as to her whereabouts. There were far too many members of the familia present for her to get into trouble.

  Or so he thinks.

  Inexplicably, Cara felt a surge of heat through her body and she stepped closer to Matteo as if to brush by him. The combination of his masculinity and her inherent desire to be wicked were overcoming her.

  How long has it been since I’ve let a man touch me? She thought, inhaling the scent of Matteo’s
cologne. He smelled spicy but woodsy, like someone cooking an exotic dish over a campfire. Her pheromones reacted to him instantly.

  He is not Carmelo. He’s decidedly the opposite of Carmelo.

  The realization only fuelled her newfound desire and she moved closer to him, wanting just a touch, just a feel, to carry her into her dreams tonight.

  “What are you doing?”

  His voice was gruff as he realized how close she stood to him but he didn’t move away. It gave Cara the confidence to lean forward, into him, her fingers rising to touch his jawline delicately. With light strokes, she moved her eyes upward to stare into his face.

  “I can’t believe it’s you,” she murmured in English, her accent softening the words to a purr. The ridge of her fingertips played with the curve of his mouth and his grey eyes widened with surprise.

  A narrowed look of determination filled his eyes and without warning, he leaned forward, yanking her into his arms. Instantly, she felt the bulge of his hardness through his pants and it caused her to tremble. He had caught her off guard but Cara was already on fire, her body coming alive with heat at the feel of his body against hers.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice even but she could hear something else. There was a slight mocking to his tone but she ignored it, nodding eagerly as she cocked her head upward to meet her lips to his. His face moved toward her, his hands tightening against the material of her deep purple dress.

  “Tell me.”

  Cara inhaled shakily, their eyes locked in a silent battle of the wills.

  “Kiss me,” she murmured, half-closing her eyes. A slow, lazy smile formed on his mouth and Matteo dipped his head to touch the softness of her cheek. She felt him inhale her scent slowly and her body burned with anticipation. Her breasts tingled, the sensation shooting straight down to her core. She sighed, knowing that it was going to be every bit as good as she imagined.

  Who would have ever thought that I would be up here, entangled with Matteo?