Becoming the Street Boss: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel

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Becoming the Street Boss: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 5

by Faiman, Hayley


  Slipping inside of the hall, I tug the door closed, making sure that it latches before I turn toward my bags and gather them in each of my hands. Walking down the long hall, each step that I take, I wish that I wouldn’t have bought heavy jeans and boxes of shoes.

  When I reach the door of the small apartment where I’m staying, I turn the knob, kind of surprised to find it unlocked. Slipping inside, I hear it click closed. I reach for a deadbolt, but I don’t find one.

  Biting the corner of my bottom lip, I wonder how I was locked in here last night and if I’ll be locked in again tonight. I wish that I had Mia’s number to call and ask her, but I don’t.

  Taking all of my clothes into the small bedroom, I close the door behind me and let out a sigh of relief to find that the door has a lock. Flipping the lock, I feel all of my anxiety leave my body, knowing that I’ll at least be locked inside of the bedroom when I’m asleep tonight.

  Slipping my hand into my back pocket, I take out my phone and walk over to the bed. Sinking down on the edge of the mattress, I scroll through the numbers on my phone until I find Rosana’s.

  It only rings twice and then I hear her voice. “Where are you?” she practically screams.

  “I’m safe,” I say.

  “Where?”

  Closing my eyes, I decide that I can’t lie to her, but I also cannot tell her the truth. “I’m going to get married,” I whisper.

  I hear her scream, then she asks me a million questions at hyper-speed. I don’t lie about any of them, I also don’t go into detail or tell her the entire truth of the matter.

  “So, will you meet me in the East Village tomorrow at the shop?” I ask.

  “We’ll be there,” she says.

  I want to tell her not to bring Aunt Irene, but I know that she doesn’t have a choice. If she wants to go at all, Irene has to take her. Before I can say anything else, I hear fabric and rustling around.

  “What the hell is going on?” Irene snaps.

  Clearing my throat, I pinch my eyes closed. “I’m getting married in two weeks. Tomorrow, I’m going dress shopping and I would love to have my sister with me.” My last words are said on a whisper.

  Irene lets out a bark of laughter. “Oh, we’ll be there. I can’t wait to hear the rest of this story.”

  Before I can say anything else, she ends the call. I text my sister the address of the dress store before I forget. I spend the rest of the evening unpacking my bags, organizing everything in the empty dresser drawers and closet, then I take a long hot bath before I climb into the bed before I promptly pass out cold.

  MASSIMO

  Pippa Mazzilli.

  Just hearing her name makes my cock twitch. Thinking about her makes my cock hard. The thought of having her as my wife, well that fucking hurts as my dick presses against the zipper of my slacks.

  “Are you fucking with me?” I ask Gavino.

  I watch as my boss throws back his head in laughter. “Not even I could ever be that fucking cruel, cugino,” he says between his laughs.

  “Explain,” I demand.

  Arlo snorts. Gavino shifts his gaze from mine, turning his head slightly to look up at Arlo. “Go ahead, Arlo. Tell him what happened.”

  I watch as Arlo presses his lips together, then he shrugs a shoulder. “She came to me last night. She came with nothing but the clothes on her back and a proposition. Apparently, Irene kicked her out.”

  “What was her proposition?” I grind out.

  “One that you would beat the shit out of me for had I accepted, judging by your reaction.”

  Arching my brow, I grind my teeth together and wait for him to answer. I can’t speak, a million different scenarios are running through my head and none of them I like. In fact, they all make me completely fucking homicidal.

  “She wanted me to auction off her virginity,” he says.

  Immediately, I stand to my feet and my body lurches forward. Gavino stands. He slams his fist down on the desk and my body jerks. “Sit,” he growls.

  My body does what Gavino demands. I flop down in the chair, my hands balled into fists.

  “Do you think that I would let Pippa Mazzilli be auctioned off that way? Do you think that I don’t know the connection you have with her? The way you’ve kept tabs on her? Watched her over the years?”

  “How?” I grind out.

  He shakes his head once. “I keep all the men in my inner circle close, Massimo. I know all of your movements, just like I know all of Arlo’s, Benicio’s, and Salvatore’s. It’s just fucking smart business,” Gavino snorts. “Plus, I saw the way you looked at her when we took her to see Bellarosa.”

  “Yes. Fine. I have always had a thing for her. She was given her freedom. She’s too young, and she deserves to be happy. So, I’ve always stayed away.”

  Arlo dips his chin in a nod. My eyes flick back and forth between the men. “What now?” I ask.

  “You must decide. Do you want to marry her? She doesn’t know that it’s you, just that I’ve offered her up for marriage to a Made Man. I gave her three options, knowing that she would choose this one.”

  Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I bite until I taste the tang of blood. “Two weeks,” I grunt.

  “What?” Gavino asks.

  Finding his eyes with my own, I release my lip and jut my chin forward. “Two weeks. That’s when the wedding will take place. I’m not going to allow anyone else to have her. She’s mine and this just proves that she’s meant for me.”

  Gavino’s lips twitch. “So it does, my cugino.”

  Jerking my chin, I stand to my feet. Arlo takes a step forward, his lips slowly curving into a smile. But it is Gavino who speaks to me.

  “You deserve to have her, Massimo. You’ve been a good soldier, a better Street Boss. She is who you desire. She is untouched, pure, saved just for you. A true prize to be had by a man who has sacrificed and lost so much in life for the famiglia.”

  His words make me choke up. Dipping my chin, I wonder if Pippa will feel the same or if she’ll be disappointed that I am the man who she’ll spend the rest of her life with. I decide that I don’t give a damn. I’m taking her. In two weeks, she’ll have my last name and I’ll own her body.

  Chapter Five

  PIPPA

  Smiling down at the cooing baby, I wonder if there is hope in my future of having my own child. I have no clue who this man is that I’m marrying, so I don’t know if he’ll want children with me or not. I want them though. If I can’t have love with a husband, I want that love with children.

  I almost ask Lenora, but decide against it. Not only does it not matter, it is not my decision and it will change nothing about my circumstances. Besides, I have more of a chance of becoming a mother if I am married, than if I work for Arlo and Gavino. I know that I am making the right decision.

  The door of the bridal store opens and the opportunity to ask is taken from me, I’m glad for it. Lifting my eyes, I smile at the lady on the other side of the door. Her gaze flicks from me to Lenora. She gives her a tentative smile as she stands to the side to allow us entrance.

  I hear my name being called and my steps falter. Turning around, I see Rosana and Aunt Irene making their way toward me. Rosana is waving her hand like a crazy girl and I can feel Irene’s anger even from a distance.

  “That’s your aunt?” Chloe asks on a whisper.

  “Yeah.” I nod.

  “Today is going to be a fucking joy, isn’t it?”

  I snort, my eyes flicking to Chloe’s. “That is an understatement,” I admit.

  Her lips twitch and she shakes her head once before she speaks. “We got your back, girl.”

  Pressing my lips together, I nod my head once and follow behind Lenora and her baby. Chloe is behind me, I hear my aunt and Rosana approach as well. The shop door closes and the lock clicks into place.

  Turning around, I frown when Chloe smiles. “Private shopping experience. Get used to the red-carpet treatment babe, these men spare no expense.�
� She grins.

  “They don’t?” I breathe.

  Chloe’s lips twitch and she jerks her chin. “Not a penny.” Then she leans forward, her face just an inch from mine. “And if you’re lucky, other parts of them are just as fat as their wallets.”

  My eyes widen and I gasp at her innuendo, which makes her break out into a fit of giggles.

  “My name is Zeta. I’ll be helping you today. I manage this bridal boutique, my mother is the owner.”

  Zeta is beautiful. She’s tall and lean with dark curly hair and dark eyes. Her full lips turn up into a smirk as her eyes roam over all of us. She stops at Chloe, then tilts her head to the side.

  “So, are you the bride?” she asks.

  Chloe snorts. “No, thank God. I already did that shit.” Chloe lifts her hand and waves her fingers at me. “This is your bride, her name is Pippa and she has zero budget. Her dude is loaded as shit, so please, show us your most expensive dresses,” she says, then she snaps her fingers.

  My eyes widen, my lips part and I stare at Chloe, at the same time I hear Irene suck in an audible breath. I press my lips together, trying my hardest not to burst out laughing, especially since my aunt’s whole reason for kicking me out was money-driven, I’m sure it’s eating her up to hear Chloe talk about finances like that.

  Chloe has no idea that Irene is my father’s sister. She was never married, but my father made sure to take care of her while he was alive, and then she’s reaped from the famiglias generosity since his death and the sale of my sister.

  Zeta’s gaze drifts down the entire length of my body before she brings her eyes back up to meet mine. “You’re what? A size zero in women’s?” she asks.

  Irene snorts behind me. “All skin and bones. Are you sure someone is going to marry her? Italian men like curves.”

  I don’t look at my aunt behind me, I refuse. She’s a bitch, always has been, to me at least. Zeta ignores her, then tilts her head to the side. I watch as she opens her mouth but snaps her lips closed when there is a loud knock on the door.

  Turning our heads, we all look behind us. There is a woman with deep honey-blonde hair standing on the other side of the glass, a tall, suited man beside her.

  Lenora laughs softly. “It seems that her guard isn’t going to stay in the car while we shop,” she murmurs.

  “Zeta can you please let Mrs. Martinelli inside, she’ll be joining us, apparently.”

  Zeta jerks her chin, then without hesitation, her feet carry her over to the door. The woman, the hulking man, and another woman make their way inside of the boutique. Zeta locks the door behind them, then follows as they approach our group.

  “Your guard is joining us?” Lenora asks.

  “Dante loves shopping,” she says with a grin. She turns to me, taking a step forward as she extends her hand. “I’m Nicola Ricci Martinelli,” she says, introducing herself to me.

  The name Ricci sounds familiar, but I don’t know exactly how to place her. Taking her hand, I introduce myself, then also my sister and begrudgingly my aunt. My aunt is her rude ass self, but Rosana is in awe of all these beautiful people we’re surrounded by. I don’t blame her, it’s like being around a room full of models.

  Zeta takes another step toward me, opening her mouth to speak when Lenora’s phone interrupts us. “Sorry,” she apologizes as she reaches for the device. She says ‘okay,’ ‘yes,’ and then ‘hurry’ before she ends the call. “Luciana will be here any minute, that was her,” she says with a smile.

  “Oh shit, you got the queen bee herself coming to help you pick out a dress?” Chloe giggles.

  Irene snorts. “More like she’s coming to see if you’re worthy of being in her famiglia. Hope you don’t fail the test, much like you’ve failed everything else in life.”

  “Auntie Irene,” Rosana hisses.

  “Why don’t you ladies all come with me while we wait for the last of our party. I have some hors d'oeuvres and champagne all set up in the seating area,” Zeta offers, breaking the tension.

  All but Lenora walk away and follow behind her, including the hulking Dante. Lenora looks down at her baby, then lifts her gaze to meet mine.

  “I’m not going to say anything about that woman. All I’m going to tell you is that I think you made the right choice by going to Arlo. And I think Arlo made the right choice by putting the man that he did with you.”

  My eyes water at her words. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  She shakes her head once, then takes a step toward me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, giving me a small squeeze. “Don’t thank me. Just be happy, and I think you will be, tremendously so.”

  There’s a knock on the window and we both jump. I turn around and see the woman who must be Luciana Santoro standing on the other side. She’s dressed much like Lenora, Nicola, and Chloe. They’re all wearing dresses and high heels, their hair styled and their makeup flawless, I feel completely out of place.

  Ignoring my complete awe of the woman on the other side of the door, Lenora hurries toward her and unlocks the door, then locks it behind her. “Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t get the baby to sleep. He was being fussy,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “You brought Simonetta?” she asks.

  Lenora nods. “Pippa insisted,” she says.

  Luciana turns to me, her face expressionless as her eyes roam over my body. “God, you look so much like her,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, I have to remember that you are not Bellarosa.”

  The way she says my sister’s name, it’s as though she’s tasted something bad. Her top lip curls, then she shakes her head and the look of disgust disappears. I realize now what must have happened. Her husband had been with Bellarosa, maybe even after they were married.

  I feel guilty, even though it wasn’t me. I feel terrible that Bellarosa was put in the position at all. I feel consumed because I was too young and Bella suffered alone.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  Luciana’s heels click as she approaches me. She takes my hand in hers and squeezes my fingers. “Never,” she snaps. “We are not responsible for the sins of our relatives. You are not guilty because of the sins of your sister. Just as I am not guilty because of the sins of my father. Now, I’m Luciana and you are Pippa. You’re going to be marrying someone that I hold very near and dear to my heart, let’s make sure you blow him away on the big day.” She smiles.

  She turns and walks toward the waiting room. Lenora follows her and I just stay planted exactly where I am.

  Zeta approaches with a smile on her face. I can’t tell if it’s fake or not, but I feel like a deer caught in headlights as she begins to talk about shapes of dresses and styles. Shaking my head, I bring myself back into focusing on this moment.

  “I just need something appropriate for the church,” I say.

  “No other limits?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “You’re gorgeous, your shape is beautiful. Would you like to be sexy or demure and sweet?”

  Thinking about the question, my gaze flicks over to my aunt. She’s got her back turned to me, but she’s sitting ramrod straight. I know that she doesn’t want to be here, that she’s trying to figure out who I’m going to marry and how I got to where I am.

  “Sexy,” I whisper. “I think my groom would like me sexy,” I say.

  At least, I hope that he does. I’ve never worn anything sexy before, not until Lenora and Chloe took me shopping. They forced me to try on dozens of curve-hugging, low-cut, dresses and paired them with sky-high heels yesterday.

  Her lips twitch. “I was hoping you would say sexy. I have the perfect dress for you. I doubt you’ll try on any of the others once you see yourself in this one.”

  She guides me over to a rack of dresses. There are only three hanging on the bar, and they’re highlighted by spotlights.

  “This is from a couture line. It’s a Lazaro. It’s appropriate for a Catholic ceremony but so sexy that your man will not want to wait until the honeymoon to have you.” She giggles.


  I stare at her, not only surprised by her words but more so by her giggle. Zeta doesn’t seem like a giggler. Licking my lips, I blink then give her a smile of my own. She shakes her head, lifting her gaze, shifting it over my shoulder and I watch as her cheeks turn pink.

  Turning my head, I try to see what she’s looking at. It’s Dante. His eyes are focused on her and nowhere else. Shifting my gaze back to Zeta’s, I can’t help but smile. She looks flustered, but it’s obvious that she wants his attention.

  “Should we try the dresses on now?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

  Her entire body jerks and she clears her throat. “Yes, yes, right this way,” she quickly rambles, taking the light blush dress off of the hanger and begins to walk toward the back of the store where I assume the dressing rooms are located.

  MASSIMO

  My phone alerts me to a new text. It’s Dante. I don’t know why he’s texting me. He’s not one of my men any longer, he’s now the private guard for Nicola Ricci herself. It’s a good gig, I had it for a while when I was Luciana Santoro’s guard.

  DANTE: YOUR WOMAN IS YOUNG. BUT SHE’S HOT.

  My response is short and sweet. I almost throw my phone across the room in a fit of jealousy. Dante has his eyes on her and I’m keeping away, too afraid that I’ll ruin everything.

  KEEP YOUR EYES TO YOUR FUCKING SELF.

  I don’t know why, but I feel like this should stay a secret. It’s not as if her finding out about me will change anything. The wedding is in two weeks, she’s as good as mine without saying a single word of her vows. I just don’t want any of this to get fucked up.

  At least not yet. Not while she can possibly change her mind. Though, I know that she won’t. Her options are fucked, but it’s that underlying uncertainty that has me staying away until she is officially mine.

 

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