Seduced by the Mafia Boss

by Shayla Black

  “Yes, but it’s not as if you ever returned any of my calls, so why would I think you give a shit?”

  “Never mistake me being up to my eyeballs in criminals with me not giving a shit.” I curse. “When did you find out?”

  “Three days ago.”

  “Were you going to tell me?”

  Kristi hesitates such a long time, I worry she’s going to say no. Finally, she closes the toilet lid and flushes. It’s a miracle, but there’s a bar of soap on the basin. She unwraps it and soaps up in silence.

  “Well?” I prompt.

  “Probably. I was still undecided, but I think, at some point, I would have swallowed my pride and asked Rand to reach out to you so we could talk.”

  Yeah, I can see why that might not have been something she was eager to do. “He doesn’t know?”

  “No one does.”

  “Not even Sophie. Wow.” I don’t ask. If she knew, Rand would, too.

  Kristi forces a smile. “I should look on the bright side. We’ll be pregnant at the same time and our kids can grow up playing together.”

  Since they’ll be cousins. “Sure. This accelerates my timetable, but I’ll make it work.”

  “What timetable?”

  “Our first kid. I was thinking we’d work on that this fall. Winter at the latest, but—”

  “What? You assumed after spending a handful of hours in bed with me that I’d just let you knock me up?”

  I had a whole plan. Guess I should have filled her in. “Well, I figured if we’re going to spend fifty years together, we’ll have kids. I’d like four. Since I grew up with three older brothers, I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but if you want more, I’m open to that.”

  “More?” She huffs. “You’re crazy, you know that? And that’s the second time you’ve said something about us spending fifty years together. How is that going to work? Someday, I’m going to want to get married.”

  “Well, yeah. I figured we’d do that as soon as I got the hell out of here. I didn’t expect you to follow me into this shithole. But it’s good that we’re getting all this out in the open now.”

  “You assumed I would marry you? Before we’ve even had a date? Without you even asking me?” She rinses the soap, flushes her mouth with water, then turns off the faucet and shakes her hands dry.

  I lean against the doorway and watch her. It’s probably the wrong time to notice, but Kristi is adorable when she’s flustered. And she looks hot as fuck half naked. “If it will make you feel better, once we get out of here, I’ll take you out a few times, then ask you again.”

  “No.”

  Shrugging, I come closer. “You’re right. Why beat around the bush? I love you. I think you love me. That’s what your body says, anyway. Why don’t you marry me, Little Red? I’ll show you a good time…”

  Her mouth purses tightly, but she’s fighting the urge to smile as she pushes past me and into the bedroom. “You already did, which is why I’m pregnant.”

  “Another reason to get married.”

  “Not in this day and age. We can share custody.”

  “Nope. Ransom fathered a son as a teenager with his high school girlfriend. He and Lydia never got married. Probably better for Ethan, who lives with Ransom now, even though he recently turned eighteen. But my mother…”

  Kristi catches on and winces. “Charlene was upset?”

  “That’s one word for it. She hated Lydia, but she loves Ethan. She’s thrilled that Rand and Soph are having a baby so soon after their wedding. So all we have to do to make my mom really happy is get married and tell her we’re already expecting.”

  She blinks at me like I’m certifiably insane. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

  Right. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me get us the fuck out of here. I’m going to have to take some chances and pull some strings, but…I think I might have an idea.”

  “Sammie—”

  “She’s next on my list. Now, listen to me. I keep a Glock in my suit coat pocket. I’m going to come in here and shut the door. Pee, wash my hands, loiter long enough for you to rifle around and find it. Hide it under your pillow—carefully. There’s no safety. Act nervous for the camera. Then I’ll come out, get dressed, behave like a dismissive asshole, and leave. While I’m gone, keep the gun there, but stay close to it. The first person who comes through that door who isn’t me? Blow them away. Got it?”

  I shut the bathroom door between us and take care of business, in no rush. Finally, I emerge, look Kristi up and down again because she really is fucking beautiful, and I have to thank Mother Nature for making her fertile at the right moment and the condom manufacturer for failing spectacularly.

  The thought makes me smile as I shrug back into my dress shirt.

  “Ridge, I don’t know how to use a gun.”

  “Point in the general direction and pull the trigger a few times. You’re bound to hit someone. And bonus: that has an extended mag so you have more chances.”

  Kristi shivers. Yeah, violence probably isn’t for her. That will certainly make our life together interesting.

  “Don’t be afraid, Red.”

  “Why can’t you just leave me my phone and let me call 9-1-1?” she asks.

  As ideas go, it’s cute…if naive. “Do you really think something like this operates under law enforcement’s nose if they aren’t turning a blind eye to it?”

  “They’re in on this?” She’s clearly horrified by that notion.

  I hate to burst her bubble. “Absolutely, and they aren’t the only ones. I’ve been gathering evidence for a while now.”

  And I shouldn’t say any more, in case Sal or Rudy decide to pay her a visit. If they do, I’ll kill them. Hell, I probably will anyway, but I don’t want them to torture her for anything she might know.

  “Oh, my god.” Her voice trembles.

  I finish with my dress shirt and lift my coat, which feels substantially lighter. At least she followed orders. “Try not to panic.”

  “I wasn’t really scared until now. You’re really the only one keeping me and Sammie from sex slavery?”

  “Yep. But I’ll get you two out, I promise.” I slide into my coat and shoes, caressing her with a tender voice—something I don’t dare do with my eyes. “We’ve got a wedding to plan and a baby to raise, so let me get to it.”

  “I didn’t say I would marry you,” Kristi calls after me.

  “You will.” I toss over my shoulder. “You know I have ways of persuading you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  I fucking hate to leave Kristi here alone, but I’ve done what I can so she can protect herself. I’ve got to do the rest of the heavy lifting ASAP. The question is, how the fuck can I end Donzelli and his organization tonight? I didn’t exactly plan for this.

  First things first, find Sammie. Then I’ll get to Paulie’s “command center.”

  In the hall, I see that Jimmy and the rest of his crew have vacated the floor. In their place are the two guards I saw in the third-level basement. They have to be a lot happier up here, not sweltering in air that smells like laundry and unwashed bodies.

  I saunter up with a cocky grin. “Gentlemen.”

  They snap to attention. The big one on the right with gleaming skin and incredibly white teeth nods. “Sir?”

  “Did Donzelli tell you boys who’s in charge now?”

  “Yes. You’re responsible for this operation.”

  “I am. And I’m looking for a specific…piece of merchandise.” I lean in with a whisper. “Antsy customer. She’s barely legal, five feet tall, pretty brunette? Came in last night.”

  The puny one nods like he’s eager to be helpful. “832.”

  “Key?” I hold out my hand.

  The bigger one slaps a sharp bit of metal in my palm. “This is the universal. It will open any of the doors. Ingram and I are here until six a.m. After that—”

  “Got it.” If I need to know more then, I’ll find out. “I’m preparing to take
832 to the client. In the meantime, avoid 810.” I pull my shirt aside to show them a long, red scratch Kristi left on my shoulder in the heat of passion. “She needs to be taught some manners. Leave that to me.”

  “Yes, sir,” they both say.

  With a smile, I tip my head and make for Sammie’s room like I don’t have a care in the world. Unfortunately, I’ve got a shitload of them. I just have to figure out how to minimize and work around them. The clock is ticking. It works to my advantage that Sal and Rudy will have pissed off somewhere for a while to sulk after I humiliated them. Paulie isn’t a night owl. He’s probably gone home for the evening. And Donzelli? I’m betting he found a “temporary companion” for the evening and retired to his room with her, poor girl.

  Once around the corner and out of the not-so-dynamic duo’s eyesight, I sprint down the hall to the stairs, rushing all the way to the bottom floor. Panting like a motherfucker, I trek near the kitchen, slipping into where the food and bar staff store everything. Thankfully, I know the passcode, so when no one is looking, I sneak inside.

  The boxes holding the bottles of booze are organized and marked. I grab one of the priciest bottles of scotch. Yeah, someone will notice it’s missing, but hopefully not until anyone who will give a shit is either dead or in jail. Then I let myself out, hit up the small-time drug dealer who thinks he’s flying under Donzelli’s radar hanging out near the quarter slot machines, buy a few “relaxation” supplements, then slip them into the bottle with a smile.

  It doesn’t take long to find Sal and Rudy. Every Saturday night they’re able, they plant at a table close to the stage where a barely average lounge singer warbles through a few sets. She might not be the most talented singer, but she gets those two drooling, especially when she wears her spangly blue dress the size of a postage stamp that barely covers her tits and almost flashes cooch. When I round the corner, sure enough. They’re fixated on her as she belts out a rendition of “New York, New York.”

  “Hey, guys.” I slide into the booth beside Rudy.

  I don’t trust Sal not to stab me in the ribs now and apologize to Donzelli about it later.

  “What the fuck do you want?” Sal demands.

  “I’m sorry about earlier. You had the redhead under control, and I was just eager to prove to Marco that I could handle the situation, so I took her out of your hands. Sorry.”

  Rudy scowls. “You took her to bed, too. But that seemed like a whole lot of talking beforehand…”

  So he saw. Damn it. Clearly, he needs to die first. Not that I actually intended to spare him. “She amused me for a minute. Then I got bored listening and just fucked her.”

  That makes Rudy chortle. “Good and hard, too. She didn’t fight too much.”

  Yep. He’s definitely dying first.

  “Nice tits,” Sal says in passing.

  And he’ll be next. Yes, Kristi has a great pair, but anyone else who remembers them won’t be walking this earth for long.

  “Figured I was giving you two a show.” I shrug like it’s funny and I don’t give a shit that anyone saw me violate the woman I plan to spend my life with.

  “A good one until she ran from the bed and puked. Then we had to turn off the monitor.” He grimaces. “But before then? Man, you gave it to her good. Paulie tried to horn in on the show, too. We told him to get lost.”

  “Yeah?”

  Rudy nods. “He got pissed and went home.”

  Excellent. That means, unless Donzelli is done banging whoever he’s tied to his bed tonight, no one is minding the candy store.

  Like I suspected, now is my best chance to take this fucking place down.

  Sal whirls on me. “In case you haven’t figured it out, we’re really the brains and heart of this organization.”

  Oh, legends in their own minds, for sure. “I didn’t see it until tonight, but I got it now. That’s why I came to say I’m sorry.” I plunk the bottle of pricy scotch in the middle of the table and motion to a cocktail waitress for two glasses. “This is my way of saying it.”

  Rudy’s beady eyes go wide. “This is a fucking expensive bottle of booze.”

  I nod. “On me.”

  Sal is more cynical. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. Tomorrow afternoon, the three of us should sit down and discuss the side-hustle operation. Paulie got it off the ground, but it needs more finesse. You’re smart enough to know that, and I think you can help me.”

  Sal cocks his head. “What’s in it for us?”

  “Cash and pussy. What else is there in life?”

  Rudy laughs again, sounding an awful lot like Beavis and Butt-Head. “Exactly.”

  The other mobster scowls.

  Damn, I hate a guy with short man’s disease.

  “Upward mobility,” Sal finally says. “That’s what we want.”

  “Absolutely. I totally get that. Someday, Donzelli is going to retire, you know?” If I don’t plant a bullet in him first. “Paulie…he’s been around a long time, but he’s not young. What this organization needs is someone with new ideas. Vision, right? Along with the brawn”—I gesture to Rudy—“and the balls”—I nod Sal’s way—“to implement them. You’ve been hitching your wagon to Paulie’s. I know you three go back a long way. But Donzelli has basically picked me to run the show after he’s gone. It would be smarter if you hitched your wagon to mine.”

  The cocktail waitress sets down the empty glasses with a wink and a smile. I peel her off a twenty and wink back. Then I pour for the two nimrods.

  “Think about it,” I murmur, then scoot out of the booth.

  “Where you going?” Sal demands.

  “You’re not drinking with us?” Rudy sounds almost sad.

  “Nah.” I slap him on the back. “I’m going to give you two time to talk over that bottle while you listen to what’s-her-name with the tits. I’ll hold down the fort. No one left upstairs?”

  Rudy shakes his head. “Getting late now. You know how it is.”

  “Yep.” Donzelli and his cohorts are getting comfortable and cocky. That works in my favor. “Drink up.”

  I loiter long enough to see them each down a glass and pour another. I’m tired as fuck, and I’m dying to go upstairs and curl up with Kristi for a few hours, maybe reenact her getting pregnant…

  Holy shit. We’re having a baby. That’s a lot to wrap my head around, but that’s a really fucking important reason to focus. Sammie, then Paulie’s command center in the basement. Hopefully, Red and I will be alive to reminisce later.

  Suddenly, the cell in my pocket buzzes. I pull it free to find a text from the guards on the eighth floor.

  Donzelli just called. Wants you to take the merch to that client.

  Fuck. The boss not thinking with his dick puts a kink in my plans.

  Tell him I’m on it, I type back, then jog my way back upstairs, my thoughts racing. I’ve got to be smart about this since my operational window of opportunity is pretty much now.

  On the eighth floor, I make my way to 832 and let myself in. The brunette I saw in the cage in the third-level basement earlier huddles in the corner now, rocking back and forth, eyes dilated and enormous.

  It hurts me to see how fucking terrified she is.

  When she catches sight of me, she scrambles to her feet and raises her fists like she intends to fight me. It would be funny…if it weren’t so damn heartbreaking.

  Shutting the door behind me, I approach her slowly. “Sammie?”

  She scowls. “H-how do you know my name?”

  “Listen to me. I’m on your side.”

  She shakes her head, her long hair swaying around her waist. “No. I saw you with that guy, the one who bosses everyone around. He controls the guy who t-took me when I walked by the back door coming out of the ladies’ room.”

  “I know. I have to gain his trust, but I’m here to free you. I’ve talked to your cousin Kristi.”

  “When? How?” She gapes as a horrible possibility occurs to her. “Is she he
re?”

  “Down the hall. I was with her an hour ago. Your mom called her to help find you, but now Kristi is in trouble, too. So you’ve got to listen to me.”

  Sammie raises a trembling hand over her lips. “She’s in danger because of me? Oh, no…”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her with a calm I don’t feel, holding out my hands. “We’re going to get out of here.”

  “How?”

  I don’t dare tell her I’m still working on that. “Let’s get you out of this room first.”

  Because if I don’t, Donzelli won’t lose himself in pussy again tonight, and I won’t get a chance to fix this.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  Why does she have to ask the hard questions? I sift through all my possibilities and realize my options are really fucking limited.

  I sigh. “Someplace I’d rather not, but you’re going to get out of here, I promise.”

  Her fists come back up. Does she think that will ward me off if I seriously wanted to do her harm? “Why should I trust you?”

  “Honestly? I’m going to shorthand this because we’re out of time. I’m not who you think I am. I’m going to marry your cousin. Kristi is already pregnant, so I have a vested interest in making sure you’re both safe.”

  “She is not!”

  “Wanna bet?” But it’s not like Sammie can verify with my girl. “Let me put it this way: What happens if you go with the boss?”

  “I’m afraid to find out. I saw what the tall, fat guy did to that other girl. She’s bruised everywhere.”

  “Yeah, Paulie is a peach. But you know neither of them is going to be good for your long-term health, right?”

  “Yeah,” she answers hesitantly.

  “I’m the unknown; I get it. But if I was as bad or worse, do you really think I’d be standing here, trying to reason with you?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly,” I assure her. “Let me check one thing…”

  I whip out my phone and call down to the bar where Rudy and Sal were drinking. After a quick parlay, the guy slinging drinks assures me that Tweedledum and Tweedledee are passed out at their table. Even better, the bottle is only half empty.

  That gives me another idea. And it better work or we’re all dead.