Cruel Daddy (Boston Mafia Doms)

by Bianca Cole

  Casually, I move my gaze across all the guests. If Lorenzo realizes that I’ve noticed him, he might act quicker. I lean toward Aida and whisper into her ear. “When we get to the door, I want you to run to James and tell him to call Antonio. Do you understand?”

  Aida meets my gaze with confusion, but it’s as if she knows from one look that I’m not messing about. “Yes.” Her throat bobs as she swallows. Aida is probably used to danger around every corner with her father. Once we make it to the church’s exit, she dashes down the steps, and I pull my gun out.

  Luckily for me, all the guests at the wedding ceremony know the true nature of my business. I level my gun at Lorenzo and shoot, missing him as he ducks behind a column.

  Piero is right with me, pulling his gun too. “How many are there?” My men rally by my side as everyone else gets out of the church fast.

  I shake my head. “All I know is that Lorenzo Ricci is here, and so was Carmella, but I don’t know where she’s gone.”

  Lorenzo suddenly shoots at me from the other side of the pillar, grazing my neck as the bullet passes a mere millimeter short. “Motherfucker,” I growl, darting behind the nearest column.

  Piero follows suit, taking cover behind the opposite column. Brando Donatello will pay for this, attacking me at my fucking wedding. Four more of my men attended the wedding, and they are all ready for a fight. Elio, Paolo, Tore, and Sergio. They will all put their lives on the line to make sure none of Donatello’s men leave this church breathing.

  The shots ring out again, bounding off of stone pillars. Lorenzo has two men with him, which means he’s outnumbered. Not to mention, he’s backed into the church with no escape.

  “Surrender now, Lorenzo, and maybe I’ll make your death quick,” I shout, glancing around the pillar.

  He pops up from the pew he’s hiding behind and shoots at me. “Never.”

  Tore fires a shot at him and misses, not noticing one of Donatello’s men to the left. I don’t have time to warn him as he’s shot in the shoulder. “Merde,” Tore shouts, clutching his arm.

  The guy was so focused on Tore. He didn’t keep an eye on me. I bring my gun up and shoot the guy in the head, killing him with one shot. “One down. You’re outnumbered and now have nowhere to go. What’s your plan?”

  Lorenzo is silent. He doesn’t have a plan as it’s already gone to shit. Lorenzo had intended to catch us all by surprise, but I saw him first. It wouldn’t surprise me if he planted a bomb in the church, which doesn’t bode well. If he thinks there’s no way out, then he might set it off anyway.

  Lorenzo fires a shot at Elio, who is trying to draw him out. “The police will be here soon,” Lorenzo shouts back. “You won’t have time to kill me and make an escape.”

  I focus my attention on the sirens in the air, cursing under my breath.

  Piero dashes across the church, shooting as cover as he does to join me behind my column. “What’s the plan, boss?” He meets my gaze with a calculating calm amid chaos. A perfect example of why this man is my second in command. He’s one of the only men I can trust to think quickly and handle the unexpected.

  Donatello’s attack was unexpected but not unbelievable. He’s wanted me dead for years. I shake my head, feeling irritated that I won’t get a chance to kill that son of a bitch, Lorenzo. Brando had always had a chip on his shoulder since I dumped his whore of a daughter when I was nineteen years old. He and my father were business partners, but that ended badly when my father crossed him.

  Carmella was my one and only girlfriend. I ended it when I walked in on her fucking my high-school friend and vowed I’d never commit to a woman again.

  Brando believed his daughter that I’d been the unfaithful one and resisted killing me only because of his deal with my father. My marriage to Aida will be different, though. If she even dared lay with another man, I’d kill him and make her watch before locking her away for the rest of her miserable life.

  “Sir?”

  I grit my teeth and listen as the sirens grow closer. If we stay too long, the police will be here before Antonio’s backup. We need to get out of here before it’s too late. “Antonio isn’t going to make it on time.” I shake my head. “We don’t have time to wait.”

  Piero nods. “They’re almost on us. We’ll make a plan to strike back at that piece of shit, Donatello.” He glances over at the rest of the men who keep firing rounds when they get a chance, whistling. He signals them out.

  I go first, backing out of the church and shooting as I do. All of us keep on guard, but as Sergio makes it to the door, one of the bullets strikes him. “Fuck,” he shouts, taking a bullet in the abdomen.

  It’s a flesh wound, but it will need to be treated. None of my men can attend a hospital considering the type of injuries they have sustained. It means they have to return to my estate for medical treatment, which isn’t ideal considering hundreds of guests are turning up for the wedding reception.

  Once outside, I issue the order fast. “Everyone back to my estate now,” I shout, rushing to Piero’s car.

  He unlocks it, and we jump inside. The engine’s roar is satisfying as Lorenzo, and his men rush out of the church, firing bullets at us.

  “Stronzo,” he curses as the bullets ricochet off his Mustang—a car he loves more than anything in this world. “I’ll have all of their heads on a fucking spike for that,” he growls as he races away from the church down the main road, taking a left to get off of it. “We’ll take the back roads. Safer that way to ensure there’s no ambush waiting for us and make sure the police don’t catch us.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I reply, loosening the tie around my neck. My wedding day would be fraught and tense, especially marrying a woman who doesn’t want to marry me, but it’s gone worse than I expected.

  Time to get this reception over with, as I’ve been looking forward to what follows ever since Aida stepped off that plane onto US soil. Tonight, the little virgin is going to become mine in every sense of the word.

  7

  Aida

  A flood of panic hits me as I wonder what’s about to happen. Milo doesn’t have to ask me twice to run away from him. I’d gladly do that anytime. His grip on my arm is firm as he leads me to the door. Once I make it there, I don’t hesitate to pick up the train of my gown and run down the steps toward James.

  James looks shocked. “What’s going on?”

  I shake my head. “Milo whispered to me as we walked down the aisle to run to James and tell him to call Antonio.”

  James looks panicked as he opens the door to the limousine. “Get in, Aida.”

  I do as he says, sliding into the back of the vehicle.

  He slams the door behind me and gets into the driver’s seat, starting the vehicle.

  After being brought up around danger, I’m no stranger to this kind of panic. It’s second nature to me, and I know not to ask questions in the middle of a tense situation.

  James drives away from the church, taking a different route back. He is on the phone in seconds, on speaker.

  “Antonio. Milo needs back up at the church right away.”

  The man on the other end has a bad signal and is a little muffled. “What happened?” he asks.

  I can see James shaking his head. “No idea. I’ve been given instructions to get his wife away and to call you.”

  “Okay, on my way.” He cancels the call.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I ask as silence falls between us.

  James clears his throat. “I know less than you. I’m sure Mr. Mazzeo and the other guests will join us back at his home for the reception.”

  I sit back in the chair and watch the concrete jungle racing past the window. Other than the journey from the airport to Milo’s home, this is my first time outside. Boston is certainly different from Sicily, with its modern buildings crammed into every inch.

  A world away from the ancient stone villas sweeping across the hills and mountains of my home country. I miss it more than I can
put into words. The danger is a part of this world, but I get the feeling that Milo is a magnet for more of it than my father was.

  I’m not surprised after my few dealings with him up to now. He’s an asshole. The kind of man that makes enemies by being himself. After the way he treated me, he’s the first person I’ve ever truly hated.

  James glances in the rearview mirror. “How are you holding up?”

  I shrug. James is the first person to ask me how I am or treat me like a human being since I landed in America, except for Olivia, Milo’s housekeeper. “I’m fine. I think it’s a blessing that I’ve got time away from my husband.”

  James meets my gaze again in the mirror, eyes wide. “Don’t let Mr. Mazzeo hear you say that.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not scared of him.”

  He clears his throat. “You should be, Aida. He’s not the kind of man you want to piss off.”

  I clench my jaw and stare out of the window, ignoring his warning. Deep down, I know he’s right. Milo is ruthless and cruel.

  When he kissed me after the priest pronounced us man and wife, he was forceful despite my reluctance. He didn’t care that I didn’t want his tongue shoved down my throat in front of about forty people. Everything I’ve learned up to now tells me that consent isn’t something he’s big on, and probably less so now we’re married.

  I dig my cell phone out of my bra and check my texts. Ever since I got here, my father hasn’t bothered to contact me. I’ve got messages from Gia and Siena wishing me luck with my wedding. It sucks that they couldn’t be here by my side.

  I swallow hard as I think about all the silly expectations I had about my wedding. For a start, I expected to be in love with the man I married. Secondly, I expected my father to walk me down the aisle. Third, I was sure my two best friends would have been with me throughout the day.

  None of my expectations came true, and I feel a deep sadness that I’ll never get my dream wedding. It’s something many girls dream of, reading fairytales that taught me my prince charming would come along. Instead, I’ve been given away to a villain.

  James pulls up the drive of Milo’s mansion. There are lots of cars in front of it. “Why so many cars?”

  “The wedding reception guests. Milo is an important man in this city, and anyone important in the city is invited.”

  I hug my arms around myself at the thought of having to meet people and be pleasant. “I assume they aren’t aware of Milo’s profession?”

  James shakes his head. “No, of course not.” He laughs. “Do you think the mayor of Boston would be here if he knew Milo runs the criminal underworld of his city?”

  Milo must be a big deal then if the mayor bothered to attend his wedding reception. It’s hard to believe that the elite are so blind to the kind of people they’re mixing with. In Sicily, the police and the government are as corrupt as my father. They know what he does. They choose to take his money and look the other way.

  “Surely they will find it strange that Milo and I had an arranged marriage.”

  James turns off the engine and glances in the mirror. “Didn’t Milo tell you what to say to people?”

  I shake my head. “He hasn’t told me anything.”

  James sighs. “He probably intended to fill you in on the journey from the church. Don’t tell people it was an arranged marriage and be vague if you get any questions about your relationship.” He pulls his cell phone out and checks it. “They’ve fled the church now and are on their way here. You won’t have long until Milo joins you.”

  I don’t know whether to be thankful for that. On the one hand, the thought of facing hundreds of important people from this city inside all by myself fills me with dread. On the other, I’m not sure having Milo by my side would put me at ease.

  James gets out of the car and opens the door to me. “Don’t look so worried. I’m sure you will do fine.” He holds his hand out to help me.

  I take it as he has been nice—nicer than anyone else up to now. “Thanks.” I smile.

  “No worries. Keep smiling, bella. It’s your wedding day.”

  My stomach sinks at his words. It’s almost impossible to keep smiling. As a little girl, I dreamed about my fairytale wedding. Fairytales certainly aren’t real, and I’m in the opposite of one. I stare up at the huge mansion.

  It’s a daunting scene as people flood through the entrance. I know no one in there, and the man I’ve married is nowhere to be seen. This should be fun. I reluctantly walk to the entrance and enter. Guests stare at me as I make my way toward the ballroom, hoping there aren’t too many people already in there.

  Somehow, I’ve got to try and avoid speaking to anyone until Milo gets here. It makes me wish more than anything that Gia and Siena were here. Instead, they’re probably enjoying themselves at our favorite beach outside Palmero or enjoying the day shopping. I long to be back in the beautiful country where I grew up.

  My eyes widen as I see how many people are in the ballroom. There must be at least three hundred people at this reception, maybe more. It’s surprising that Milo has any friends or acquaintances at all after his impression he made on me.

  I grab a drink from one of the waiters walking by before slipping toward a quiet corner of the ballroom. It’s not going to be easy to blend in wearing this stunning A-line wedding dress. Maybe I’m paranoid, but I feel like everyone’s attention is on me.

  A man locks eyes with me and smirks, approaching. “You must be the bride,” he says.

  I raise my eyebrow. “What gave me away?”

  He laughs. “I’m Michael, it’s a pleasure to meet you, beautiful.” He takes my hand forcefully and presses his lips to the back of it.

  I get the feeling he’s trying to be charming, but it’s coming off creepy. “Aida,” I reply, wishing that he hadn’t come over here, as I reclaim my hand from his grasp.

  He’s young, probably in his late twenties, and smells too strongly of overpowering men’s cologne. “You’re not originally from America, are you?”

  I swallow hard, shaking my head. “No, I’m from Sicily.”

  “Exotic and attractive. I can see why Milo picked you.”

  My brow furrows at the chauvinistic comment. “Excuse me?”

  He shrugs. “It’s a compliment, beautiful.”

  I can hardly believe the nerve on this guy. He’s hitting on me at my wedding. “You do realize that I’ve just got married, right?”

  He leans closer to me, touching my arm gently. “I love married women. They’re always kinkier.”

  I jolt away from him, shocked by the way he shamelessly flirts with a bride at her wedding. “In your dreams.”

  He looks irritated by my comment, but then his attention goes elsewhere, and he steps away from me. I’m thankful for the distance until I see why he stepped away.

  Milo approaches us with a possessive rage in his gaze.

  Michael addresses him, “Milo, I was getting to know your new wife.”

  I notice Milo’s jaw clench as he slips an arm around my waist without looking at me. He pulls me possessively against the side of him, holding me tightly.

  All his attention is fixed on the creep that propositioned me at the start of my wedding reception. I still can’t believe that he was serious. The look on Milo’s face could kill, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he wanted to kill Michael for touching his wife.

  My husband is a dangerous man but from the cocky glint in Michael’s eyes, he has no idea who he’s fucking with.

  8

  Milo

  I’m angrier than I’ve been for a long time. Brando Donatello has made me look weak with his stupid attack on my wedding. I’ll make sure he regrets it, but unfortunately, I can’t do anything right now.

  The wedding reception is underway at my home, and a lot more guests are attending the reception. People would notice if I were absent, but he will pay for attacking me.

  Piero pulls through the gates to my home. The driveway is packed full of cars and people
as my guests arrive—guests that I’d rather not have invited. Ironically, I’m attending my wedding reception with politicians and Boston society’s elite after being involved in a shoot-out.

  No one knew where the wedding was taking place, other than my men, some business associates, and my family. It begs the question of how Brando Donatello found out where it was. A traitor for sure, one that will need to be weeded out.

  For now, I have to socialize and act like I give a shit about the charities Patricia, the mayor’s wife is touting. As one of the richest men in Boston, I am forced to associate with politicians and socialites. If I were to marry without inviting the city’s elite, there would have been a lot of chatter—chatter I’ve made it my mission to avoid.

  I glance over at Piero. “Antonio is meeting us here, isn’t he?”

  Piero nods in response. “Yes, he’ll deal with Tore’s and Sergio’s injuries in the guest house.”

  “Good. We can’t have the word of this getting around the guests. Make sure it all goes smoothly.”

  Piero parks in front of the house, keeping the engine running. “Of course, sir. Have a good time.”

  I roll my eyes. “You know I’d rather be doing anything than mixing with these people.”

  “Yes, but you have to act like you’re having a good time, at least.”

  I clench my jaw, knowing that, unfortunately, Piero is right. “See you later.” I get out of the car, and he drives toward the guest house.

  Piero will ensure my men are dealt with, and no one sees them. A fact I’m confident of. I adjust my jacket and walk through the entrance into my home.

  Jackson, a city council member, spots me first. “Milo, congratulations on the wedding.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t even know you were dating.”

  I clear my throat, drawing in a deep breath. “It was a whirlwind romance,” I lie. The fact I’ve never entered society with my now wife would have already caused quite a stir amongst the city’s gossip.