Russo Saga
The Complete Set
Nicolina Martin
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2020
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Martin, Nicolina
Russo Saga
The Complete Set
eBook ISBN: 978-1-64563-264-1
v1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Contents
Heat
Ruin
Shame
Redemption
Absolution
Capo
Nicolina Martin
Blushing Books
Blushing Books Newsletter
Heat
Russo Saga - Book One
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2019
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Martin, Nicolina
Heat
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-996-1
Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-998-5
v3
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
To my daughters, for sharing Mom with her passion for the words.
Chapter 1
Nathan
Leaning against the railing, I watch the Cubans as they toy with the kidnapped woman. She’s in her fifties, a dark-haired beauty, dressed in a classy suit, torn now, the expensive high-heeled shoes long gone.
Swinging her between them, they dangle her over the water, just long enough to get high off her terror, then yank her back to the illusion of safety with empty promises in her ear. Then they do it all over again.
Growing tired of the game, I pull out my Colt and put a bullet between her eyes. She’s dead anyway, it’s a mercy kill. The sound of the shot is deafening, the screaming stops, and I have four AR-15s pointed at me, the faces of the owners varying from shocked to enraged.
“Russo! What the fuck?”
I tuck away the gun and shrug.
“Stop fucking around. Let’s get to work.”
The four brutes, barrels still aimed in my direction, but gradually sinking, glance at each other and finally come to a decision. Tossing the body overboard, they disappear into the depths of the boat. I sigh as I light a cigarette and watch the final moments before the woman vanishes beneath the surface. The ocean glitters cheerfully in the sun, seagulls shriek high above us. Nature, as always, uncaring about human struggles. I close my eyes, fight down my frustration, and take a few more deep pulls. Enjoying the warm gusts of wind and the absence of the screams and hoots, I flip the butt over the railing, turn, and walk down the stairs into the cabin.
I never toy with my targets. Death is a serious matter, personal, the last moments of a human life. It is to be met with some amount of respect.
Sydney
I take a quick sip of my cooling coffee, sneaking in a tiny break in our hectic work schedule, shifting my weight from one aching foot to the other. Six hours of standing in high-heeled shoes takes its toll, and I still have three more to go.
“Syd!” The panic in Jayna’s voice makes me spin around. “There’s a couple here. They say they’ve booked a room, but there’s no booking in their name. And we’re full. There are no rooms. I don’t know how to solve it. I feel terrible. You’re so good with this. Can you help me? Pretty please!” She all but kneels before me.
I put down the cup and tilt my head from side to side, trying to stretch tense muscles. “Of course. Always. But you’ll owe me a neck massage.”
Jayna’s face splits into a smile. “For sure, babes. I’m yours to use.” She steers me to a young couple, looking more like backpackers than the usual clientele of Derrick by Miami Beach. Desperation shines on their faces. The man clutches a wrinkled paper in his hand.
“Good afternoon. How may I help you?”
The woman opens her mouth to speak, but her male companion takes the lead, shoving the paper toward me on the marble counter.
“We have reservations. Here. We booked.” There’s a dejection in his whole appearance, like he’s already beaten. He smooths out the piece of paper and points at it. “But apparently we’re not in the system.” They are both drenched in sweat. He drops the large backpack to the floor, exhaling and then leans over the counter. “Please.”
I glance at Jayna who mouths a ‘thank you’, then I flip the paper so I can read it. It’s a booking all right, and for our hotel.
“This is for next month.” I point at the date on the sheet, then I tap into the system, and sure enough, there it is.
It’s as if he deflates. The woman stares at him and slaps a hand over her mouth.
“But you… you said…” she stutters as tears well up in her eyes.
He turns to me. “Please. Isn’t there anything you can do? It’s our honeymoon. We came from Oregon. It’s…” He shakes his head and puts his hands over his face.
I wince. Normally, no, there’s nothing I can do, but I recently got a tiny promotion. I’ve got a few new responsibilities, as well as access to the whole booking system, and their situation breaks my heart. We always have spare rooms for VIPs, or for emergencies such as the plumbing goes to shit, or someone vomits all over the carpet. This is not one of those occasions, and if it comes to my boss’ attention I’ll have a small hell to pay, but screw that. They’ll remember Miami with joy in their hearts. They’ll remember Derrick didn’t turn its back on them on their honeymoon.
“We might have a late cancellation. I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t the two of you sit on the couches over there? There’s water, and some fresh fruit. Coffee, if you’d like. I’m sure we’ll solve this.”
I follow them with my eyes as they make their way to the lounge area, and then I get to work.
Jayna sneaks up next to me. “You do this so well, Syd!”
I lean my head on her shoulder as I look around the lobby. I always thought this was my kind of place, but it’s cold and harsh. I’m dipping my toes into upper management, and I’m not sure I’m liking it. My elbows just aren’t sharp enough. “We should get our own hotel, you and me. We’d kick ass. Just a small place, forty beds, some cute little coastal town.”
“You’d really go for that, wouldn’t you?”
My fingers fly over the keyboard, finishing up their booking. “I do. I’m gonna do it one day. I want you with me.”
“Syd, you grew up with financial stability. I’m trailer trash. I’
m so lucky to be here at all and not with nine kids around my feet in a trailer of my own. I don’t know if I’d dare to do anything like that.”
I print out a copy of their new reservation, and code a key card. “Sweetie, you are the most resourceful woman I have ever met. I have some money; you have everything else. Together we’ll slay it.”
“You think?” The twinkle in her eyes is unmistakable. She loves the idea.
I round the counter, taking aim for the exhausted honeymoon couple as I give my friend a wink. “Jayna, I don’t think. I know.”
I call my dad in the car between work and the gym. My heart is light and I smile. The relief that couple showed after I found a ‘late cancellation’ for them was palpable. I hope they’ll have a wonderful honeymoon.
“Sydney!” He greets me enthusiastically, and I feel guilty for not having called in a while.
“Hi, Dad,” I say, matching his tone. “How are you? I’m in a bit of a rush, but I’m in the car, I can chat a little.”
“Aren’t you always?”
I suppress a sigh. “Dad, you know this is what I want.”
This is why I don’t call him enough. I love my dad and wish we could have a closer relationship, but he’s constantly on me about working too much and not taking care of myself. He doesn’t understand that this is me taking care. I’m building the foundation for my future, for my security. My parents don’t understand why I can’t live off their money until I find a good husband. We have a very different view on life.
He sighs. “Yes, yes. I just think you should live a little. Take a vacation. Meet with friends. Find a nice young man. In fact—”
“Are we still set for the weekend?”
“Of course. You’re always welcome to bring a friend—”
“Dad!” Having parents desperate for me to breed is a bit much at times. Thank God, Mom lives out of state. “Gotta go. I’ll call you later. Love you.”
He mumbles something and then speaks up louder. “I’m happy for you, Sydney. I… I just worry.”
“I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. Talk later.”
I work out for a long time, run on the treadmill for miles and miles. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be anyway. I live alone. I have no plans for tonight. It’s me, Netflix, and a glass of wine.
Tourist season is crazy. Work exhausts me, but it’s the wrong kind of exhaustion. I have no control. Management pushes us beyond our limits, and all the while we have to smile for the customers.
“SyYYDNEY…”
Hearing my name sing-songed makes me spin around, and can tell within seconds Jayna has something going on. She looks very secretive.
“Don’t give me that look, hon.” She throws her arm around my shoulders and adjusts her long legs to my pace when I keep walking, eager to be anywhere but here. When she has that look, she’s up to no good. “Table’s set for tonight. We’ve got your favorite restaurant and a surprise.”
“Jayna. No!”
The tall redhead grins mischievously at me, her dark green eyes twinkling. Her mirth is contagious. I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lips despite the annoyance of probably being forced into something I don’t want to do.
“Sydney, yes. We’ve got to celebrate your promotion, sweetie. You’ve got to come with. You never go out. Frankie and Maya are coming too.”
I glance back at the lobby and, sure enough, the doorman and the newest girl at the front desk waves and winks.
“Look… No, I’ve made plans.”
She stops and puts a hand on her hip. “Really. What plans?”
“I’m… gonna watch a movie.”
“Alone?” She narrows her eyes.
“Mmnooo… With Ben. And Jerry.”
She slaps my arm. “Silly girl. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
I budge. Of course, I budge. No one can say no to Jayna. She’s like a force of nature.
Beautiful, street-smart, charming. I love her. Everybody does.
My three friends hoot and laugh at me. I’m sitting with my arms crossed and my head bent awkwardly to the side to avoid getting my nose rubbed against the crotch of an, admittedly very hot, guy. The surprise was Hunk-O-Mania. And, of course, we have front row seats.
When the embarrassment finally ends, we hit the bar, trying to get the attention of the bartender, but so are fifty other women. Jayna looks for an open spot while the others admit temporary defeat and head for the restroom. I sigh and slump on an empty stool next to my friend.
“This is so not me, Jayna!” I yell to be heard over the music.
“Girl, you’ve gotta get your shit together. You’re a warm blooded, flaming hot, twenty-six-year-old, single woman, living in the sexiest city on earth. Look at all these prospects. They’d kill for a night between your legs and show up with flowers the next day. I’ll get one for you, chica.” She lifts her arm and beckons for a guy a few feet away from us.
I jump on her and hang on her arm, giggling, shaking my head at the confused guy.
“Jayna, I love you, but I’m good.”
“You’re not. You’re lonely as all hell. We had to drag you here, screaming and kicking.”
I spend the rest of the night, getting shit-faced while trying to convince my friend I’m perfectly happy where I am right now. I have to promise her I’ll date. Some day. When I have time.
In another life, I guess.
Nathan
The Manhattan skyline grows in the distance, partially obscured by the morning fog. Only the top of the Chrysler building glitters in the first rays of the sun. It’s a promise of home, of getting some well-deserved rest. I like the anonymity of New York, the melting pot, how easy it is to meet and discard a person. There are all kinds here. Good people, bad people, lost people, broken people. Very few normal people. I fit right in.
I’m also happy for the distance to San Francisco and my uncle Salvatore. Working for him is my plight. I was born into it, but I don’t have to be reminded of it every minute of my life.
My phone buzzes. I jolt and pull it out of my pocket.
“Nate.” Christian Russo, my larger-than-life brother, greets me cheerily. Too cheerily. Never trust a happy mobster.
“Chris. What’s up?”
“You in the big apple?”
I glance out the window at the already heavy traffic, the oncoming lane jammed. “Yup. My favorite island is cowering beneath a blanket of fog right before me. Just left JFK. Why?” I already know what he’s going to ask, but this is a game we always play.
“I’m passing through. Need a place to crash.”
“What’s wrong with hotels, dude?”
“Brother—”
“I’m just kidding. Wanna go out?”
“Definitely.”
“A’right. Gimme a call when you get to town. I’m not picking you up. I’m fucking beat. Cuba was Hell on earth.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“You’re funny. I don’t talk. Let’s go out for a drink instead.”
Christian barks out a laugh. “See you later.”
The taxi dives into Queens Midtown Tunnel as I disconnect and pocket the phone. When we resurface, dark turns to light, and the well-known streets surround us. It makes me breathe easier. Even early in the day, it’s noisy and buzzing with cars and people. I roll down my window and inhale the scents of freshly baked bread, garbage, and car exhaust.
Tribeca is waking up, a few are on their way to work, not much going on yet.
After paying the driver, I grab my bag and hop out. The air is chilly and white fog comes out of my mouth with every breath.
I jerk off in a scorching shower. It doesn’t help one fucking bit. I’m still edgy, still frustrated. Cuba was technically a success, but I’m not feeling it. I need to go out, I need to vent. As I unpack and wake up my loft again after a few weeks of hibernation, I ponder where to go tonight. I’ll see what mood Christi
an is in, but me, I don’t want to think; I just want to blow my mind clear from all the shit that’s gathered there.
A call announces the arrival of my big brother, my friend, protector, and partner in crime. Quite literally.
I pick up and tell the door man to let him up and a few moments later come three signature loud bangs on the door, making me jump.
“Fuck’s sake.” I stride over and turn the lock. Christian fills the whole doorway, managing to look casual despite donning a hand tailored dark gray suit. He gives me a slap on the back and looks around the large bright space that is my loft, pushing his hand through his jaw-long dark hair.
“Still no woman’s hand, I see.”
I scoff. “A woman is fine in my bed, but not in my life. Want a beer?”
He grins. “Sounds good to me.” He trails behind me to the kitchen. The contents in my fridge are pathetically meager, old takeaway cartons, a packet of juice, and beer. I hand him an ice-cold Corona and push the door closed. I’m out of here tomorrow anyway, no need to worry about it.
Grabbing it in his large paw, he regards it. “Still with these Mexican beers, Nate? Got anything more to my taste?”
I pop one open for myself and sink down on a stool by the bar. “Nope. I love all things Mexican. Now what brings New York the honor of your presence?”
“Salvatore wants me to deliver something personally.”
Russo Saga Collection Page 1