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Becoming the Street Boss: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel

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by Faiman, Hayley




  Becoming the Street Boss

  A Zanetti Famiglia Novel

  Hayley Faiman

  Hayley Faiman Books, LLC

  Becoming the Street Boss

  Copyright © 2020 by Hayley Faiman

  All rights reserved.

  Editor: My Brother’s Editor. Ellie McLove. http://www.mybrotherseditor.net

  Proofreading: My Brother’s Editor. Rosa Sharon. http://www.mybrotherseditor.net

  Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs. Cassy Roop. https://www.pinkinkdesigns.com

  No part of this 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 the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit my website at http://hayleyfaiman.com

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Also by Hayley Faiman

  Stay Connected

  Italian — American Mafia Structure

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Stay Connected

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Hayley Faiman

  Men of Baseball Series—

  Pitching for Amalie

  Catching Maggie

  Forced Play for Libby

  Sweet Spot for Victoria

  Russian Bratva Series —

  Owned by the Badman

  Seducing the Badman

  Dancing for the Badman

  Living for the Badman

  Tempting the Badman

  Protected by the Badman

  Forever my Badman

  Betrothed to the Badman

  Chosen by the Badman

  Bought by the Badman

  Collared by the Badman

  Notorious Devils MC —

  Rough & Rowdy

  Rough & Raw

  Rough & Rugged

  Rough & Ruthless

  Rough & Ready

  Rough & Rich

  Rough & Real

  Cash Bar Series —

  Laced with Fear

  Chased with Strength

  Flamed with Courage

  Blended with Pain

  Twisted with Chaos

  Mixed with trouble

  Forbidden Love Series —

  Personal Foul

  Kinetic Energy

  SAVAGE BEAST MC —

  UnScrew Me

  UnBreak Me

  UnChain Me

  UnLeash Me

  UnTouch Me

  Unfit Hero Series —

  CONVICT

  HERO

  FRAUD

  KILLER

  COWBOY

  Zanetti Famiglia Series —

  Becoming the Boss

  Becoming his Mistress

  Becoming his Possession

  Becoming the Street Boss

  The Prophecy of Sisters —

  Bride of the Traitor

  Bride of the Sea - Coming Soon

  Esquire Black Duet Series –

  DISCOVERY

  APPEAL

  Standalone Titles

  Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale

  Stay Connected

  Follow me on social media to stay current

  Website: http://hayleyfaiman.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorhayleyfaiman

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  Italian — American Mafia Structure

  Boss – The head of the family. Usually referred to as Don or “Godfather.”

  Underboss – The second in command usually appointed by the Boss.

  Consigliere – Advisor to the family. Low profile and can be trusted. Used as a mediator for disputes or representatives in meetings with other families. Usually stockbrokers or lawyers.

  Family Messenger – Passes messages between family members and the Boss.

  Street Boss – Buffer position between the Boss and Capos. Head of the Caporegimes. Runs the day-to-day operations.

  Caporegime (Capo) – Sometimes called Captain. In charge of a crew. There are up to nine crews in each family each with around ten soldiers.

  Soldier – Members of the family, can only be of Italian background. They are associates who have proven themselves.

  Associate – Not a member of the mafia, but instead, an errand boy.

  Prologue

  PIPPA

  TWO YEARS EARLIER

  Looking back over my shoulder, I try to take in one last fleeting gaze at my big sister. She’s beautiful. Just as I’d remembered. A perfect mix of our mother and father. I’m not so self-absorbed that I think we could be twins, but with our matching black hair and blue eyes, it’s obvious we’re related.

  The visit my little sister, Rosana, and I had with her wasn’t long, but it’s clear to me that she misses us. It’s also clear to me that she’d had no clue where we’d been, or that our mother had vanished moments after she did, three years ago.

  As the suited men usher me and Rosana past the rugged bikers, all dressed in jeans and leather, I wonder exactly how my sister, Bellarosa, fits in here. She’s obviously respected and well protected. She isn’t just here—she is one of them. She is somebody here.

  I’m practically thrown into the back seat of the large black SUV that I arrived in, Rosana curls against my side immediately. She presses her face to my shoulder, her arms wrapping around my middle, holding me, attempting to practically become part of me.

  It doesn’t surprise me. Rosana is young and innocent, not only in age but in spirit as well. It’s beautiful and I can’t deny that I’m a bit envious.

  My sister and I were never awarded that luxury. Bellarosa was taken young from us, and I slipped into her spot as being the one in charge, growing up in a split second.

  The passenger door opens, my body jerks from my thoughts as I watch a man slip into the passenger seat. I expect to recognize him as the one from earlier, instead of the man who sat there on the way, another has taken his place.

  He’s almost an exact replica, dressed in a beautiful black suit, he has black as night cropped hair, a bit overly long on top but it works for him, his complexion olive much
like the others and my own.

  He’s a cliché just like the rest of them—all of them.

  Clearing my throat, he slowly turns to look at me. His eyes are black, not just dark brown, but solid black. They are a bit unnerving, but still intriguing and dare I say, beautiful as the rest of his face.

  My breath hitches at the sight of him. I’ve never seen a man so handsome before. He has dark hair that is a little too long on top, and the sides could use a cleanup, but it works for him. He also should have shaved his face about two weeks ago, but again, can’t be bothered.

  “What happens now?” I ask softly.

  He arches a brow, his lips twitching as his gaze roams over my torso then flicks back up to meet mine.

  “Now you go back to your auntie and you act as though none of this has happened,” he says.

  “How?”

  He shrugs a shoulder, his tongue peeking out to taste his bottom lip. “Don’t know, cara, but if you don’t, then you’ll have a much bigger problem on your hands.”

  Pressing my lips together, I lower my eyes to my lap. The man chuckles and I immediately flick my gaze up to meet his. He’s smirking at me, his eyes search mine for a moment before he shakes his head once.

  “Just be a good girl, yeah?”

  Licking my lips, I tilt my head to the side. “What happens if I’m not… good, that is?” I ask.

  He smirks and leans over the seat. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’ll say. No doubt, judging by the gleam in his eyes, it’s going to be something wicked.

  I can’t even pretend that I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I have a feeling he’s got a lot of naughty thoughts rolling around in his handsome head.

  The driver’s side door opens and his words are cut short. My breath hitches as the man in charge, the Boss, sinks down in the driver’s seat.

  Pressing my lips together, my body instantly jerks and a shiver rolls throughout my entire being. I don’t know him well, but the Boss being here, it’s unnerving.

  Gavino Santoro is definitely not as scary as the boss before him, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not scared shitless of him, I am. Not just of the man himself, but also of his position and power. He’s terrifying, the power that he holds is just as terrifying.

  Everything about him, about all of these men and their capabilities, scare me.

  When my father died, my sister was taken, as many girls in our neighborhood were, all of them never seen or heard from again, I decided then and there that I would never be with a Made Man.

  Made Men are nothing but handsome robots in fancy suits who cause irrevocable damage and heartache. They have no hearts, no souls, you can see it in their eyes.

  They are a cliché.

  They cause nothing but pain until the day that they die. They take everything and give nothing back, except maybe money for your time.

  Money isn’t shit.

  It doesn’t keep you warm, it doesn’t love you, it doesn’t feed your soul. They cheat, lie, steal, and never have to answer for their actions.

  The only person they answer to is their Boss and maybe the Devil when they die, and that’s a big maybe, they don’t give a fuck about the women in their lives, they don’t give a fuck about anyone but themselves.

  “You girls were never here,” Gavino begins as he guides the car out of the dusty, rocky parking lot.

  “Where?” I ask, arching a brow.

  The man in the passenger seat snorts. “Exactly,” Gavino says with a nod.

  “You’ll be going back to Irene Mazzilli, back to school and live a life you choose. No longer are you bound by the decisions of your father since he is no longer of this life,” Gavino explains.

  My gaze shifts from him to the window. “What about Bellarosa?”

  “What about her?” he asks.

  “I assume she was one of your girls?” I ask.

  He clears his throat as the other man shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I don’t bother making them verbally answer that question. Instead, I move on.

  “What is she now?”

  “She is free, she freely chooses to be with Dragon, the man back there,” he explains.

  Nodding, I press my lips together as he approaches the waiting airplane. The same one that brought us here. Clearing my throat, I lift my eyes to meet his as he shifts the SUV into park and turns the engine off.

  “Does this mean we’re free as well?” I ask.

  Gavino doesn’t say anything immediately. He waits for a moment, unmoving, as he faces the windshield. Then, he turns around, his green eyes finding mine and he smirks.

  “None of us is ever truly free, Pippa. Bellarosa has her freedom from me, from the famiglia, but not from her man. I’m free from Rossi, but not of my duties, in fact, they’ve grown. And the list goes on. If you want to know if you’re free of the famiglia, you are if you choose to be. That’s the answer that I can give you. However, remember you were born into this life and your loyalty to the famiglia is always required, free or otherwise.”

  “I understand,” I whisper.

  He clears his throat then dips his chin before he turns and pushes the door open. Without another word, our conversation is now over.

  The man in the passenger seat turns to look at me. I can’t stop myself from shifting my gaze over to him. He’s so damn beautiful. It sucks that he’s a piece of shit like the rest of them. Because if there was a Made Man that I could ever find attractive, it would assuredly be him.

  His dark eyes are focused on me, his gaze burning into my own as he watches me. “You let me know if you need anything, Pippa. Hopefully, you’ll never contact me.”

  The conversation over, he opens the door, then another man opens our back door and I don’t see the stranger or Gavino again. They disappear somewhere in the airplane while Rosana and I stay near the front where we’re guided.

  I’m glad that I don’t see them again, both of them unnerve me in completely different ways. The stranger makes me feel things that I’ve never experienced before. Things that I want to understand further, but I know that it would be dangerous to want him, to want any part of the man that he is.

  ONE YEAR LATER

  MASSIMO

  I watch her.

  I’ve been busy, my new duties taking over my life. They even took me away for a while as I guarded the most important woman in the famiglia. Luciana Santoro, the Boss’ wife. I’m back now, and it feels as though it’s been a lifetime since I last laid eyes on the girl in front of me.

  Pippa Mazzilli.

  Blowing on my coffee, I keep my mirrored glasses in place and my gaze focused on her as I sit in the dark corner of the café. She doesn’t sense me, doesn’t even know that I’m here. She doesn’t know that I watch her. That I’ve been watching her.

  She throws back her head with a loud laugh, it fills the space of the room. A few men glance in her direction, I’m sure their eyes appreciatively roaming over her smiling face and slightly bared cleavage.

  Her friend leans forward and touches her hand as she shakes her head in laughter. All of her smiles, every inch of her face lights up as the laughter rolls through her body.

  Taking her in, I’m not sure that I’ve ever been so freely happy before. At her age, I had already been through extreme heartache. My mother was shot down, a girlfriend of mine had died a tragic death as well. A kind touch was one that I don’t even remember.

  I was raised by a woman who despised me, a woman who was only mildly kind to me when my father was around, which wasn’t often. His wife. My mother was my father’s comaré, his whore, and his wife was forced to raise me, his bastard, as her only child.

  My life was never happy, I don’t think I’ve ever truly laughed, not since my mother was taken from me. Seeing Pippa’s happiness, I wonder if I could ever be like her. If I could ever laugh again? Doubtful. I’ve seen too much death and destruction, caused too much of it myself to ever truly smile. I don’t deserve to anyway.

  I don’t stay much
longer, it’s obvious they are settling in for a long day as they both take their laptops out and begin to work on their studies. As a senior in high school, Pippa is over the age of eighteen, but she’s still finishing up her schooling. Not that it matters, it doesn’t.

  I’ll never have her.

  I’ll always be on the outside looking in, like a fucking creep, lying to myself when it comes to her. I tell myself that I watch her to make sure that she’s staying quiet about what happened a year ago, but I know that I watch her because just the sight of her makes my cock hard.

  Pippa should be free to live the life that she desires. The famiglia will always have her back, but she is not required to marry within the ranks. Maybe at one time, she would have been up for grabs to a Made Man as a reward, but Gavino has given her the freedoms that Bellarosa has earned for her and little Rosana. They will never be beholden to the whims of the famiglia or Made Men.

  Leaving them, I walk out of the café as my phone begins to ring in my pocket. “Ferrucci,” I bark as soon as I am out of earshot of Pippa and her friend.

 

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