A New Don: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Romantic Suspense)

by Rowena

  I know he’s out there and I know, deep in my soul, he’s coming for me.

  Damn, I look a wreck. My face is thin, both because of the pregnancy and the stress. I’ve barely been able to keep anything down. My eyes are sunken from lack of sleep.

  If I’m going to survive, I need to put on appearances.

  It’s not a betrayal of Donnie to do what I must to stay alive.

  The stories they’ve told me of Callum… I don’t want to be a source of displeasure to him, so I better do something about my face. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot.

  “Do what you have to do; he’ll understand,” I whisper to my reflection in the mirror. “He can’t hold it against you.”

  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then exhale slowly.

  When I open my eyes, I steel my resolve and grab my makeup kit and go to work hiding the flaws, accenting the strengths. It takes me over an hour to complete myself.

  The results are good—or at least the best I can achieve. A couple of good nights’ sleep and a week of no stress would do just as much for me.

  I purse and smack my lips to set the lipstick then walk out into my bedroom.

  “Hurry up!” someone yells through the door while pounding on it.

  “Fine!” I yell.

  I want to tell them to piss off, but that’s not the route to survival. Provoking the monsters isn’t going to help me live.

  I glance around.

  The boxes have taken over most of my room. All my things are packed and ready to go except for a handful of clothes. I’ve only got two dresses that aren’t packed, so my choice is made easier.

  I pick a simple black. It’s loose-fitting, which avoids accenting the swell of my belly.

  Dressed and ready, I sit down on the bed and wait.

  It’s not long before I hear a horn outside.

  I stand then walk to the window and look down into the front yard.

  Two black SUVs pull in, followed by a limousine and another black SUV behind that. They pull around the circular drive and stop so that the limo is at the front steps.

  My chest aches as I watch. This is it.

  The doors to the SUVs open almost at once—like it’s a coordinated dance routine. Men in dark suits with dark sunglasses climb out. Their suit jackets shift as they do, revealing the firearms under their arms.

  They take up positions around the limo and up the steps, looking all around. They look like coiled springs, or a tiger stalking its prey—ready to pounce, ready to spring into action on a second’s notice.

  Two of them walk over to the limousine and stand to either side of the rear-most door. The one to the right opens the door, and, as it swings back, he moves to stand by the rear panel, crossing his arms in front of him.

  Shocking red hair appears as the man in the limo climbs out.

  He’s tall and pale with freckles and very red hair. He seems wiry, smaller-built than my Donnie.

  He straightens his jacket, looks around as he buttons it, then walks up the steps flanked by the two men.

  That’s him—Callum. The man my father is trading me to for some business deal. That’s what I am to my father—a pawn to be used to grab more from the world.

  Someone knocks on my door, and before I can say, “come in,” I hear it open.

  “Turn around,” Father says.

  I obey even though it feels like I’m breaking inside.

  I have to survive. He’s coming. He won’t leave me here.

  “Good,” Father says, looking me over with an appraising eye. “I think he’ll like you just fine.”

  “I hate you,” slips out, the thought running through my mind given voice.

  Father smiles and his eyes light up with delight.

  “That’s fine. You almost ruined everything but you failed at that too. You’re too weak to be my daughter, but play your role in this and you’ll have been useful in the end. Come on.”

  He holds a hand out and I stand frozen, unable to move even if I wanted to.

  He frowns and anger flashes across his face, but it’s too close to closing his deal and he can’t bring violence against me now without damaging the goods.

  He crosses the room to grab my hand and jerks hard, pulling me to his side.

  My shoulder cries out in pain, but I grit my teeth and avoid making a sound.

  As we walk down the grand staircase, the guests are waiting at the bottom.

  My father places his arm around my waist to make it less obvious, I assume, that he is controlling me.

  I’m guided along by him down the steps toward the waiting men.

  I feel like a piece of meat put on display—dressed up to please those who look, and about to be sold to the highest bidder. The redheaded man stares at me as we approach with open admiration.

  In different circumstances, I might consider him attractive, but now I just see the monster before me.

  “Callum,” Father says, holding out a hand that Callum takes.

  “Don Baldini,” Callum says.

  “How was the trip from Boston?”

  “Pleasant enough,” he replies. “I’m sure it will be an even nicer return home once we complete our deal and I have time to get to know my new… bride.”

  He leers at me when he says the word and my stomach lurches. I take shallow breaths trying to calm it.

  “Ah yes, my apologies. This is my daughter, Isabella,” Father says, motioning his hands to me like he’s a model on a game show.

  They both stare at me and I meet Callum’s blue-green eyes. I feel like a bird caught in a snake’s gaze. I know I should respond, do something—anything—but I’m frozen.

  “Well, you are quite beautiful, aren’t you?” he says. “You didn’t lie about that, Emilio.”

  He chuckles and my cheeks burn.

  “No, no lies among friends. Right, Callum?” Father says, chuckling.

  “No way to conduct business, I agree,” Callum says. “Well, I brought a gift for you and my new bride. Would you mind going with my guard here to retrieve it from the car, luv?”

  He’s speaking to me.

  I frown, looking from him to my father.

  What the hell is this? I’m already being ordered around like a servant? Why would I want to…

  Shut up, Isabella. Shut up and survive.

  “Of course,” I say demurely, resisting the urge to curtsy. Callum might not appreciate my sarcasm.

  The guard next to him takes a step back and holds his arm out toward the car, motioning for me to walk ahead of him. I walk but my legs feel like they’re going to collapse at any moment.

  I focus on each step, taking them one at a time, getting through each moment as it comes.

  Men still line the steps, staring straight ahead behind their dark sunglasses.

  The one beside me is close—too close for my personal comfort—but I can’t focus on that. I will survive, no matter what, because Donnie is coming.

  I finally reach the limo then turn and look at the guard beside me.

  “What now?” I ask, feeling lightheaded and nauseous.

  “Get in,” he says.

  My head is spinning and I’m about to pass out. He can’t have said what he said. The deal isn’t done yet—we’re supposed to return with a gift. It must be the bout of sickness taking over; I must have misheard.

  “What?”

  “Get in,” he repeats firmly, then opens the car door.

  “I don’t…” My words are cut off as he shifts his sunglasses away from his eyes and rips away part of his mustache.

  “Get in,” Donnie says in his regular voice, smiling.

  He has done something to his face so his facial dimensions are off, but I’d recognize those blue eyes of his anywhere.

  “Donnie!” I cry, almost throwing my arms around him and kissing him, but I remember where we are and restrain myself with superhuman control.

  We might be some distance away from my father at the moment, but eyes are always watch
ing, and I don’t want to bring unwelcome attention.

  But not kissing him right now is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do.

  It’s really him! He came for me just like I knew he would.

  “I have to get you out of here,” he says. “Don’t worry about anything; I’ve got this.”

  I can’t believe he’s here, and now that he is, I’m scared to let him walk back in there; I can’t bear the idea of anything happening to him.

  “You can’t go in there. Come with me—let’s get out of here now!”

  “Bella, stay calm. Get in the car and stay down. Trust me.”

  He smiles with an easy, cocky confidence that I can’t help but believe.

  “You came back,” I say, my eyes filling up.

  “I told you I would,” he says. “I always keep my promises.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to end this. We can’t live a life of fear. I won’t raise our child that way.” He quickly reaches for my belly.

  “You know?” I ask.

  “Of course, I do.”

  “How?”

  “I’ve been watching, planning, working out every detail.”

  “I put a candle in my window for you every night.”

  “I know,” he says. “I’ve got to finish this now but after this, it will be over. We’ll be safe. I’ll take you away from all of this and you’ll never have to be afraid again.”

  Tears stream down my face.

  “I won’t be long, I promise. I always keep my promises, remember?”

  “How did you get in here? Callum—he’s a monster! Just like my father. You can’t go in there alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” he says, grinning. “Some monsters are facades. Callum is a friend of mine.”

  “You’re kidding me!” I exclaim.

  “No, and I have to go before your father gets suspicious. I’ve got friends on the inside, and everything is all set. Now get in the car!”

  I nod dutifully, climbing into the car. He shuts the door behind me.

  I look through the window at him he fixes his mustache and glasses back into place then blows a kiss through the window to me.

  I smile as he strides confidently back into the house.

  21

  Donnie

  The time has come.

  My heart races as I walk up the steps, ready to end this.

  Bella is safe, and now I can do what I need to do.

  I reach behind my jacket and tap the button on the walkie attached to my belt as I walk up the steps.

  I pause at the door, take a deep breath, then walk in.

  Callum and Emilio are standing where I left them.

  I return to my place.

  Emilio stops talking and looks at me.

  “Where is my daughter? What is this gift?” he asks.

  I glance at Callum then back to Emilio, who is staring at me suspiciously.

  I shake my head and grab the fake mustache, ripping it off.

  “It’s over, Emilio,” I say, throwing the glasses and mustache on the ground.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” he exhales, reaching for his gun.

  The click and rattle of a dozen guns being aimed fill the foyer.

  Emilio stops reaching and looks up and around.

  Men line the balcony around the foyer, all with their weapons trained on him.

  Max came through.

  A handful of guards draw their weapons and are shifting their aim between me and my men.

  Unfortunately, the divide between our numbers is relatively even.

  “Give up, Emilio—no one has to die here today,” I say, and I mean it.

  I hate him, and I want him out of play but I don’t have to kill him. I’m better than that. Better than him.

  “You lied to me,” he says, turning to Callum.

  “Lie is a bit strong,” Callum says. “Misled, maybe?”

  Emilio turns back to me.

  “You failed to kill me before; you’ll fail this time too. You’re weak, like your father. A pathetic excuse for a man without the stomach to do what has to be done.”

  “How many men have to die for your pride, Emilio? You’ve lost; give up. I swear we won’t kill you if you’ll stand down. I have what I want.”

  “What? My slut of a daughter? You have your whore so now you think you can convince me you’ll walk away happy? What, and raise little brats and never look back? I’m not the fool you are, Donnie.”

  Anger seethes in me as he degrades his own daughter.

  My hands ball into fists and I’m shaking with rage.

  Then someone takes a shot.

  I don’t know who fired first, but as soon as that first crack breaks the silence, it opens the gates of hell.

  Bullets fly in whistling streaks of death that whizz past and around my head.

  Callum and I drop to the floor with weapons drawn.

  I crawl to the left and he goes right.

  “Where is he?” I yell.

  “No clue, mate,” Callum says, ducking out from behind the staircase and firing at one of the guards.

  I look around and spot Emilio running toward a hallway.

  I fire at him and he ducks as the bullets miss, hitting the wall just behind his head.

  “Shit, he’s getting out!”

  “Get that son-of-a-bitch. We got this!”

  I smile grimly then climb onto the balls of my feet.

  The bullets zing around the open space as fast as dozens of men can pull the trigger, creating a hailstorm of death.

  I leap up, running as fast as I can in a zigzag pattern, heading for the hallway.

  Time seems to slow to a crawl as I move.

  Bullets zoom around me, objects explode, chunks of wood and plaster fly, glass from decorations and pictures shatter.

  I’m pelted by millions of bits of debris, but no bullets find their mark on my flesh.

  I leap up and dive into the hall, landing in a ball rolling further in and out of the line of sight of the gunmen.

  I quickly get my bearings as I come to my feet.

  The hallway is dark, but there’s a light at the end, so I head that way and find a door leading outside.

  There are a dozen cars lined up and one empty space.

  An engine revs, tires squeal, and a black Ferarri barrels toward me.

  I raise my gun and fire three shots.

  Two ricochet off of the hood, and one hits the windshield but the car speeds up.

  I dive into some bushes and the car squeals through where I just was.

  Climbing out of the bush, I take aim and fire three more shots, one of which causes the back windshield to explode.

  The car fishtails, and for a moment, I think I hit him, but then he regains control and speeds off down the driveway.

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” I yell, running for the remaining cars.

  The first one I come to is a red Porsche.

  I throw myself into the driver’s seat and quickly look for keys but no luck.

  I jump back out and climb under the dash, pulling down wires.

  I pull out a pocket knife, find the two wires I need and cut them, strip them, then touch them together and the car roars to life.

  I climb back in, trying not to think of all the precious seconds lost.

  Emilio’s getting away and I can’t let that son-of-a-bitch do it.

  I drop the car into reverse and hit the gas.

  The tires burn as they fight for traction, then the car moves.

  The engine screams as I race down the driveway.

  In the distance, at the edge of sight, I see fading taillights.

  My prey is escaping.

  I turn into the road, drop a gear, and accelerate.

  The car slides to the side and skips across the asphalt as I struggle to keep control without giving up speed.

  Once it’s under control, I’m after him, the car blazing down the road.

  With a massive burst of speed, I
close the distance between us.

  Traffic comes up fast, forcing both of us to weave in and out of it.

  Two semi-trucks are passing each other ahead, forcing Emilio to slow down.

  It gives me the chance I need to close the distance between us even more.

  I hit the button to roll my window down and lean out the side.

  “It’s over!” I scream into the roaring wind.

  I have no idea if he hears me or not.

  I can hear him revving his engine, waiting for his opportunity to get past the trucks.

  I’m on the bumper of his car but hold back on ramming him; I want him alive.

  The windshield in front of me shatters in a spiderweb and, instinctively, I yank the wheel.

  The car jerks to the side, the tires slide, and I’m in a fight for control against physics.

  The car goes into a full spin and the world outside circles as the tires lose traction.

  I jerk the wheel into the spin then against it, back and forth while alternating hitting the brakes on the in turn and the gas on the out turn.

  I don’t know how long it takes before I skid to a stop.

  Panting to catch my breath, I rev the engine and hit the gas as I drop the car back into low gear.

  The tires squeal as I turn the car back around and take off after Emilio again.

  He’s made it past the impeding trucks, but now I’m stuck behind the first one as oncoming traffic keeps me from being able to pass.

  I dodge in and out of the other lane, looking for an opportunity. Each time, I see his lights further in the distance.

  Damn it!

  Finally, I punch it, and the car leaps forward.

  I race past the semi so fast, it blurs beside me.

  Oncoming traffic is close and I have to dodge back to the other lane faster than is comfortable and hear the semi lay on its horn and brakes.

  I don’t look back. My eyes are locked on my enemy.

  An open road lies between the two of us now.

  The motor hums as my speed climbs.

  I’m over a hundred and the car’s flying along, closing the distance until I’m on his bumper again.

  I honk my horns, flash the lights, trying anything to get him to pull over and give up.

  Bullets ping off of the hood and hit the windshield again.

  I weave the car back and forth, but a car is too big of a target to do more than keep them from hitting me directly.