Savage Ruler: A Dark Italian - Irish Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Sinfully Savage)

by Kristen Luciani

  “What’s the situation?” I ask as we get closer to the destination. It’s located in the Ravine, a heavily forested area in the park. Conor explains the setup as he winds around the roads in the park. According to the guy stuffed in the trunk, there’s a nondescript building hidden in the depths of the foliage where Dominguez’s crew transports boatloads of young women every month where some will be sold into slavery, and some will work for Dominguez himself. They’re lured into the clutches of the cartel from various places in Latin America, brainwashed into thinking that a new and better life awaits them in New York City, only to find out that they’re about to be sold into lives of prostitution and drug addiction.

  I swallow hard, anger festering like an infection deep in my gut.

  Just like Molly.

  If she even survived.

  Girls who put up too much of a fight are ‘handled’ by their captors.

  The money isn’t worth the headaches as far as they’re concerned.

  Too many times, I’ve heard nightmare stories of these poor girls being shot up with so many drugs that they end up overdosing before they can be sold to the highest bidder.

  And their lives come to a tragic halt.

  I blink fast, a sharp pain shooting down my neck because my jaw is clenched so damn tight. Molly suffered the same end as far as any of us know. What they do to these girls, what’s become of so many others in the past…the mere thought makes my heart physically ache.

  My ears roar with the imagined sounds of torture, torment, and realization when these girls figure out what their lives had been reduced to, that they will never see their friends and families again, that the futures they planned for themselves will never come to fruition.

  So help me, I need to silence those sounds.

  This isn’t just about my vengeance, about my need for retaliation.

  This is about speaking for those who can’t any longer.

  Dominguez should have killed me when he had the chance.

  Because now I’m coming for him and escape won’t an option.

  It’ll be a pipe dream.

  We take a final turn and stop about fifty feet from the building.

  Conor turns off the car and looks at us. “It’s broad fucking daylight in this shithole section of the city. I think this is a bad idea.”

  “Don’t think, Conor. Save the last few brain cells for once we get inside,” I snap.

  “You know, you’re pretty fucking mouthy for someone who’s being hunted by a drug lord,” Conor growls. “You need me, so show some fucking respect.”

  I narrow my eyes, seething my next words. “Respect? You put me here, Conor. You put us all on the defensive when you took on the cartel. So now you’re going to make things right. I don’t have to respect you. I just have to work with you.” I turn to look at Sergio. “You’re armed?”

  “Always,” he says.

  “I’m going for Dominguez,” I say.

  “You’re not gonna get far with a knife,” Conor scoffs.

  “Watch me,” I hiss. “Now here’s how this is going to work. You two will take me to the entrance, pretending that you’re part of the delivery. You tell them you have more in the car. As soon as they let you pass, it’s showtime.”

  “Are you fucking insane?” Conor asks. “They won’t buy it!”

  “It’s actually not a bad idea,” Sergio says.

  I smirk at him. “Suck up.”

  Sergio snickers. “I admire the self-sacrifice. It’s hot.”

  “It’s also necessary.” I glare at Conor. “It’s the only way inside. We need to get in before we can find Dominguez. Now come around and pull me out of the car in case anyone is watching.”

  Conor presses his lips together, but for once, does what I ask. He opens the car door, bending down to scoop me out of the front seat. I allow my body to go limp against his, my eyes floating closed. He walks toward the building, and pent-up fury gurgles in my veins as my feet drag along the patchy grass.

  He stops at what I can make out through my cracked eyelids is a door.

  My heart thumps and hammers. This plan is sketchy at best. I may have sounded super confident, but the reality is we have no idea what we’re going to find inside.

  If we even get inside.

  I just hope that we acted fast enough to prevent any news from getting to Dominguez.

  An ache in my chest reminds me of everything I have on the line because of that asshole.

  It’s up to me to make it all right.

  I hear the heavy metal door creak open and my breath hitches.

  “We’re here with a delivery,” Conor grunts. “Got more in the car. Fresh virgin pussy, straight from Dublin.”

  Oh my God, I want to hurl right now.

  A thick Mexican accent mutters a response. “Take her inside. How many others?”

  “Two,” Sergio pipes in.

  He makes a clicking sound with his teeth as he tilts my chin backward. I let my head fall as his fingers travel down the front of my shirt.

  I’m so close to pulling out my knife and slicing off those damn sausages, but it turns out I don’t have to after all.

  “Bring her inside. And get the others,” he grunts to Sergio, who gives a quick nod, backing away. I let my head fall over Conor’s shoulder as he pulls me through the door. I open my eyes the slightest bit to take in the scene but it’s quiet, save for the other guy just inside.

  Security, I guess. I’ll bet there are pockets of guards set up all over this building.

  Bend the fuck over and kiss your asses goodbye, punks.

  We’re coming…

  I push away from Conor, spinning around and jamming my blade into the side of the guy who just let me pass over the threshold. Conor plugs two bullets into the chest of the other guy who was too stunned and stupid to act first.

  Thank God for silencers.

  Sergio appears next to me, holding the barrel of his gun to the guy’s temple as he winces and weeps like a bitch.

  I could have gutted him, but I want to find his boss and I don’t really feel like knocking on every door throughout this place.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Sergio mutters and I twist the knife as a guttural yell bubbles in his chest.

  “Hold it together,” I whisper to the guy. “Swallow the screams. The only words I want to hear from your disgusting mouth are the ones that tell me where to find your boss.”

  “I…d-don’t…k-know,” the guy sputters, spittle flying into the air.

  I recoil and dig the knife in deeper. “Bullshit. Tell me now or I will slice your goddamn throat!”

  His eyes water, his chest heaving as Sergio curses in Italian.

  “Kill him,” he mutters. “We can’t waste any more time.”

  I pull the blade from his side, and just as I’m about to impale his heart, he begs for mercy. “Please, stop! He’s in the playroom, all the way at the back of the building. It’s where he evaluates all the girls and picks out his own.”

  My stomach churns, bile rising in the back of my throat.

  Just like Molly.

  Just like Molly.

  A sudden pounding between my temples makes me grasp the wall. I press my hand against it to steady myself, gritting my teeth because I cannot let him get to me.

  I refuse!

  I couldn’t save her.

  The enemy stole her life away from us.

  But I will be goddamned if I let that happen again.

  I will not lose anyone else.

  I will fight.

  I will defend.

  And I will fucking win!

  These assholes will not crush another human life ever again.

  And Dominguez will pay the very hefty price for all of the lives he’s already compromised.

  “Who would be in there with him?” I hiss, the tip of the knife hovering over his carotid artery.

  “Just one other guy. The handler. The one who takes care of Dominguez’s girls.”

  A nasty smile
tugs at my lips. “Thank you for being so cooperative,” I say.

  “Please just let me go,” he begs. “Please ju—”

  I slice at his jugular and he clutches his throat as he crumbles to the floor.

  Fifteen seconds can feel like a lifetime in a situation like this.

  I drop to my knees, making sure he can see my lips move.

  “This is me letting you go,” I say with a little wave. “Bye-bye now.”

  “You sure you’re not Russian? You remind me a lot of my good friend Katarina. She’s a brutal bitch, too,” Sergio says.

  “I’m not Russian,” I say flatly. “I’m just fucking pissed off.” I square my shoulders, ignoring the knot in my stomach, the one that not so gently reminds me that we haven’t heard a word from Roman about Matteo’s condition. I know if I let myself dwell on that for a second too long, dizziness will assault my mind and panic will paralyze my plan. I can’t think about what might be. I can only focus on what I can stop.

  “Playroom, here we come,” I mutter.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Matteo

  The deep glow of late afternoon sunlight illuminates the bright white stoneface of the church. The large structure is surrounded on all sides by lush greenery, the scent of the air so fresh and clean. I take a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs as I squint up at the sky.

  My gut clenches for some unknown reason, but I instinctively know it’s time.

  The ‘what’ remains to be seen.

  I slowly walk up the steps of the church, wondering if what I am looking for…what I know I need to find…will lay beyond the heavy mahogany doors. My palm grips the brass handle, pulling it open. I expect to see the inside of an ornate church, but instead, the doors open to an expansive meadow that is surrounded by a large lake. I step through the doorway and into the grassy knoll, my feet sinking into the soft earth as I trek toward a group of people congregated by the water’s edge. They are standing in circular formation, whispering in hushed tones. I pick up my pace, my walk morphing into a run, a sense of impending dread crashing over me as I get closer and closer to what they surround.

  I open my mouth to call out to them — any of them — but nobody can hear me.

  They never once look back at me, and I realize it’s because my lips move but no sounds emerge. My throat tightens as the voices in my head get louder.

  I’m the only one who can hear me.

  Finally, the crowd separates, creating a small space for me to peek through. I creep toward the opening, finally catching a glimpse of bright white.

  A flowy material billows in the light breeze, and a peal of laughter breaks the stillness in the air, washing away the fear that gripped me only seconds earlier.

  I release the breath I’d been holding.

  It’s my Heaven.

  I no longer have to search.

  She’s right there in front of me.

  But the panic doesn’t dissipate entirely.

  It still lingers like an ominous shadow eclipsing the happiness that everyone else seems to share in this moment, including Heaven herself.

  Why can’t I feel that same happiness?

  Why am I waiting for darkness to emerge…to swallow us whole?

  Deep red curls cascade down her creamy back, covered by a thin layer of tulle. She spins around, a tight bunch of pink calla lilies clutched in her hand. Her ruby lips stretch wide across her face when she sees me, the rhinestone tiara on her head glittering like a crown.

  How apropos, since she’s my queen.

  She holds out her hand to me and I reach for it, interlacing my fingers with hers. I smile, pushing my way through the crowd toward her, except the ground is no longer solid. It’s thick, wet quicksand, pulling me into the abyss with each step I take toward her.

  My pulse spikes, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickling as her smile fades. Her lips part and a scream erupts into the air. I push through the quagmire, my legs sinking deeper and deeper the more that I fight the seemingly inevitable.

  The crowd fills in around me, watching as I struggle, staring blankly as I yell for their help.

  I can’t save Heaven if I can’t save myself.

  She runs toward me, the bottom of her gown disappearing into the murk. It swirls around her ankles and I yell for her to back away. I try to lunge for her, to push her out of this deadly snare, but the more effort I expend, the faster I sink. The quicksand rises around my chest, constricting my lungs.

  The people surrounding us disappear one by one until we are the only two left in the meadow.

  My chest heaves as I draw in labored breaths.

  She’s all by herself. I have to protect her!

  But escape seems impossible.

  My fate is set.

  Heaven’s eyes flood with tears as she calls to me, trying desperately to pull me from the quicksand. But the more she pulls, the harder it drags me under.

  A loud explosion erupts around us. I can’t twist my body in the direction of the chilling sound. I can only watch Heaven clutch at her chest, blood-red stains spreading over the starch white fabric of her wedding gown as her body bucks and jerks.

  Assailants flank her on all sides, but they’re invisible. I can’t see them, I can’t shout to her, but worst of all, I can’t absorb the deadly blows.

  That was my only job.

  I failed.

  Again.

  She falls to her knees as I scream her name, a final tear slipping from her eye before she collapses backward into the tall grass.

  Every shriek, every wail, every bellow drags me further into the depths of my own personal hell, the one where I am forced to live a life without Heaven Mulligan.

  But instead of darkness, bright white lights flash behind my eyes, sickles of sharp pain slicing at my insides. Heaven’s crumpled form ripples like a stone skimming across the slick surface of a lake, fading away as tormented thoughts pop between my ears like bullets, the sounds growing louder with each passing second.

  I lost my control. I didn’t stop the horrors from consuming her, the ones coming from all directions.

  And now she’s gone forever…because I couldn’t save her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Heaven

  “You can’t just barge in there, Heaven,” Conor mutters as we hover inside of the doorway to an empty room.

  “I think I just proved that I can and I will do just that,” I retort, my lips curling into a sneer. “Cover me or don’t. Either way, I’ll gut the bastard before I leave this place.”

  Sergio holds out his fist and I bump it with mine. “I’ve got your back, Natasha Romanoff.” He winks at me. “Same red hair and everything. I’m telling ya. Russian.”

  I manage a smile through my rage.

  Sergio jumps and grabs his vibrating cell phone. I can see Roman’s name flash across the screen and he stabs to accept the call. “Romo?” he whispers into the phone. “Romo!”

  He holds it to his ear, eyebrows furrowing for a few seconds before he rolls his eyes and ends the call. “I fucking lost him. Service in here sucks. Let’s hurry this up and get back to the hospital, yeah?”

  “Let’s use the same game as we did to get in here,” I say, looking at Sergio. “Drag me down the hallway and if anyone asks, you’re taking me to the boss.”

  “And if they challenge it?” Conor snips.

  “Then you plug them,” I say, letting my body fall against Sergio. He grabs me with a low whoof! before I go down like a sack of cement. “Let’s go before anyone finds those two dead clowns and comes for us.”

  We start down the hallway. It’s quiet up front. I guess most of the activity is happening behind closed doors. And there are a lot of them. Because I’m trying to act comatose, I can’t see much clearly other than the dark gray walls surrounding us. The place is a shit hole. It must be a distribution site. Once the girls are listed wherever online for buyers…I guess on the Dark Web…they must be transported to the auction sites. I can’t imag
ine anyone with money coming here to claim their purchases.

  Not unless they had a death wish for themselves.

  But that’s good for us.

  Less expensive security to battle.

  As we move toward the playroom, other girls are being shuttled into different rooms. They look clean and somewhat put together for what must be their photo shoots.

  My stomach clenches as tear-stained faces pass us by.

  Killing Dominguez is the only way to help them.

  It’s the only way to right all of the wrongs he’s committed.

  A guy with thick dark hair and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth approaches us, and he drags his hands over my ass and up my thigh. I try desperately not to tense up but God, I want to cut him.

  I can feel Sergio’s arm tighten around me, and I silently beg him to relax.

  If he gives us away now—

  “Take your fucking hands off of her!” Conor hisses, sticking his gun into the guy’s side. “She’s for the boss!”

  The guy’s eyes widen and I hold my breath until he backs away, hands over his head. “Sure thing, ese. He’s in the back.”

  “We know,” Conor seethes. “Move the fuck out of our way.”

  I let out the breath. “Don’t do that again,” I whisper to Conor. “You could have given us away.”

  “But I didn’t,” he says. “Because maybe I’m not the complete fuck-up you thought.”

  “Let’s slap a TBD on that one, yes?” I mumble.

  The doorway is in front of us. All I have to do is reach out and grab the handle—

  “Diaz and Alvarez have been hit!” A loud voice bellows, and my hand freezes on the knob. “Lock this place down now!”

  Doors on both sides open, dark-skinned men emerging with guns in their hands, rushing past as we loiter outside of the playroom.