Stolen Wife

by Carina Blake

  Stolen Wife

  Carina Blake

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Stolen Wife

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Copyrighted © 2020

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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

  Cover design: Carina Blake

  Cover Image: Deposit Photo

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  I’ll do whatever it takes to get her in my arms—even kill my brother.

  I’ll do everything in my power to destroy all who come between us.

  The second I held the wedding photo of Giada with my brother, my revenge became tainted with possessiveness so profound that I grew colder. Calculating. Obsessed.

  I’ll do anything to get my desire. To taste her.

  Giada is mine, and it doesn’t matter the how or why, because she just is. I'll play her name in my head—my siren’s song—as I remove her from my brother’s grasp and take her for my own.

  One by one, I’ll get my revenge on those who sent me away while claiming what was never theirs.

  Chapter One

  Santino

  I grip the folder tightly in my hands, breathing in the fresh ink on the papers that my lawyer sent me.

  Tomorrow, I’ll be a free man.

  I’ve waited two fucking years to get back to my life outside of this cell. Seven hundred and thirty-four days, to be exact, for a murder I didn’t commit. I used those two years wisely, though. When I seek out my revenge, every single person who had a hand in my incarceration will pay with their lives.

  The son of a bitch who actually confessed to the murder they convicted me of worked for the Avanti crime family. Luckily, he made his dying declaration two weeks ago before finding his way outside of a twenty-story building, taking the quickest way down.

  The judge who banged that motherfucking gavel down on my life had to backpedal and let me out based on the new information my lawyer sent him. It’s taken a long time due to the bureaucratic red tape to get to this day, and it feels like an eternity.

  They knew they never really had a case against me, but they would have done anything to bring down the Marchetti crime family, even if it meant getting to someone in the family. I was convicted on flimsy evidence, planted there by none other than someone in the Marchetti family. What the stupid prosecutors couldn’t or wouldn’t understand was that I had no interest in helping the family at all. Blood or not, I want nothing to do with those bastards especially after they set me up so easily.

  Every dollar I’ve ever earned has been clean from day one. I worked my whole life to get away from the family business, and now it has swallowed me up and spit me out.

  I sit on my thin, worn-out mattress inside my cell to look over the documents. For two years, my team has been out finding evidence to free me and dirt on those who might have put me in here. The packet has more evidence that will get me my company back without a fight and a little something extra to sweeten the deal against any opposition.

  According to several of the informants my lawyer wrangled up, my accident at seventeen that forced me off the football team hadn’t been an accident at all. My brother had orchestrated the entire thing.

  The more I learn about my little brother, the more I know he had something to do with my current situation. Not that I didn’t think that from the start. In fact, I knew the evidence had to come from someone on the inside.

  When I’d been arrested, it took Rafael two days to visit me with the promise to get me out. I could see through him like a brand-new picture window. The motherfucker has had it out for me since he was able to walk.

  As I flip through the file, I come across two sealed envelopes. I open the first one, and it’s my DNA test that they used against me in court with another report attached. Since I was a boy, I’ve been treated differently, and now I know why. I read the letter attached to the file—I wasn’t a Marchetti at all.

  I hated to think that my mom could cheat on my father, but he deserved it more than she knew. His resentment toward me finally makes sense. He used to do everything in his power to torment me as a child. I never let it get me down because I always had my mother’s love. Her soothing words and soft voice eased the abuse and neglect from my father.

  My brother Rafael and I never got along because our father groomed him to hate me. I remember when I was ten years old, we had a pair of vicious Dobermans that were meant to be guard dogs for the family compound. I loved them both and played with them the second I got home from school. One day my father noticed the way they never barked at me and often stood guard over me. He took me out back and then tied my wrists and feet to a chair while giving Rafael a gun to shoot each dog as they growled at them from inside their kennel.

  I’ve wanted dogs for years, but I worked like a madman, traveling around the world too much. I’d just settled down in my new home when the police came with a warrant. I’d love to get a pair now and watch them tear off his flesh. That memory cemented my will to never be like either of them. For the next ten years, I never spoke a word to them unless I was asked a question. I had nothing and wanted nothing more than the basics to survive. My mother, on the other hand, gave me the love I needed to keep me human. Her love for me made me the better man and allowed me to grow up semi-norm
al.

  I can’t say that my mother loves him, but she’s stayed all these years. I’m betting that she stayed to protect me. I’m sure if she would have tried to leave him, they would have taken the first opportunity to end my life.

  Needing to read all the information in the files, I move on to the next envelope, which is about my brother’s illegitimate son, Fabrizio. As I read on, I learn something valuable that I can hang over their heads as I take my time destroying them before they die. I move on through the file and see the report taken by the police from the real killer, and how I’d been set up. There are no names of the conspirators, but the fact that they knew where I was and when made it obvious it was the family.

  I reach the end, and one person I don’t see anything on is the new Mrs. Marchetti. There’s nothing in here about Rafael’s wife. They’ve kept her existence practically non-existent. There’s not even a wedding photo. My people haven’t even gotten a picture of her coming and going. She didn’t have an online presence, and apparently she’d been homeschooled. She’s either a total troll or insanely beautiful. Knowing Rafael, she had to be stunning because anything less would be unacceptable. I find it strange that there’s not a picture of her anywhere, though. Maybe she’s a bigger target than I know, but I doubt it. My guy says it’s rumored he won’t let her out because he’s afraid she’ll hoe around on him.

  I can’t see him letting her fuck around despite the fact he’s with his mistress more than he’s at home. I’ve seen his side piece several times over the years before I was locked up. Marie’s only twenty-five with a two-year-old and has been mixed up with Rafael since she was seventeen.

  I set the documents down with the rest of my things because it’s time for my daily exercise. I start with fifty push-ups and then move on to bench-pressing my bed before finishing within an hour with a bit of yoga. I’ve done everything I can inside my cell when the bell rings.

  It’s time for lunch, so I’m let out of my cage. Since I’ve been locked up, I put on thirty pounds full of muscle—most won’t even look at me. At first, they believed I was a killer. In the last twenty-four hours, they learned that although I might not have killed anyone, I sent four people to the hospital for fucking with me and mine. You make friends and enemies in this place, even when you keep to yourself.

  “Hey, fellas, it’s the innocent man in the house!” one of the inmates shouts. They all cheer because respect is respect.

  “Thanks. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here,” I muttered, walking over to my table. I’m not hungry, but I do snag an apple from the pile. My mind hasn’t stopped turning since I got the news. There’s so much to do that I’m not sure what needs my attention first.

  As I take a bite of my apple, I can feel someone sit next to me. “So, how much did the family pay that guy to take the blame?” Diego, the toughest fucker in this place, says. He’s under the impression that I’m a fucking killer at heart. As a part of a mob family, everyone thought I was a murderer no matter who confessed in my place.

  “Nothing. I guess the guilt was eating at that motherfucker.” I know that he doesn’t believe me, but that’s not my problem. I take another bite, wondering if he’s going to get the point.

  “Yeah, so much guilt the fucker took a swan dive off a building. Ha!” He looks around and laughs. Trouble—I can feel it in my bones. “Bullshit. This son of a bitch here got the connects. So do I.” His words are laced with bravado. Diego lunges at me, nearly taking me out with a blade. A real knife, but my ass was ready. He only nicks my skin before I slam his head onto the table while my other hand breaks the knife-wielding hand.

  “You’re a stupid motherfucker,” I whisper in his ear through a clenched jaw. “Who paid you?” He doesn’t answer, which I expect. Instead, he fights to break the hold even more aggressively, so I break his arm. The guards watch, but don’t say shit. I shouldn’t even be in this place. “Ready to talk?” I keep my voice down because I’m only concerned about the answer. People do a lot of fucked things to their friends if it gets them a ticket out of here.

  “Your brother,” he grunts out. I take the knife and stab it into my apple, standing straight up. “You should have that looked at.” Kicking his feet out and sending him to hit his head on the bench of the table, I walk away, dropping the apple with the little present into the guard’s hand. For everyone to hear, I say, “I’m going to be in my cell because I’m not trying to catch a case in this bitch. Too many cameras.”

  The hooting and hollering starts as I make my way out of the main eating area. My name is chanted as I make my way back to my little cement box.

  I spend the rest of the night in my cell waiting for my release in the morning. I refuse dinner because at this point I don’t trust anyone, guards especially. So many motherfuckers are on the take for everything, from just a little nose candy to underage pussy. Some of these guards belong behind bars just like the rest of these guys. I have my lists; I’ll have these bastards buried so fast if they try anything.

  AFTER A BIG “FUCK YOU” smile on my face as I pass Diego’s cell, I exit the prison in cuffs and two guards. I’m being transported to the courthouse today to be officially freed. My lawyer’s ready to file suit for wrongful imprisonment as soon as they bang that gavel.

  My friend and personal assistant, Martin Giuseppe, and my lawyer, Dimitri Stanislav, stand at the entrance of the courthouse as I’m escorted out of the prison van. There’s a small crowd of reporters looking for a scoop, but I don’t have shit to say to them. The officers lead me inside the building and away from the press before they undo the cuffs. After all, the motion is a formality and then I can finally go home.

  There’s so much to do that I’m anxious to get started. As I make my way inside the courtroom, I notice that my family is nowhere to be seen. They should have come to make themselves look less suspicious in my eyes, but then again, perhaps they don’t care, or they expected me to be dead. “Where are my parents?” I ask out of curiosity rather than actual disappointment.

  “Your father claims that the families are at war and they’d be a target, or so he said when I called to see if he’d be attending,” Dimitri says.

  “Yep, I’m betting.” We take our seats and wait for our case to be presented. It’s insane how I’m not at the front of the line so I can gain my freedom. Every hour I wait, I’m telling Dimitri to add ten grand to the suit. It’s not the money. It’s the principle.

  “The state against Mr. Santino Marchetti.” It’s my turn, and I’m brought to the front as they quickly read the statements my lawyer and the prosecutor prepared.

  The case is over in less than five minutes, making me annoyed. “What the fuck? I waited hours for that shit. Adding insult to injury.” My men lead me out of the courtroom before I lose my fucking mind. There wasn’t a single apology, as if I deserved what had happened to me.

  My friend that I’d met in prison comes up to us when we enter the hallway. We hug and then I say, “Joey, thanks for showing. Martin, Dimitri, this is my personal guard. He’s going to need the clearance like you and Dimitri, if you understand my meaning. Now, who’s outside?”

  “The D’Angelos and the Avantis,” Dimitri says, knowing them all because although he’s got nothing to do with the mob, he’s been around it his entire life.

  “Why? I thought that Rafael’s married to the Avanti daughter.” That’s how I knew my brother was in on it. He’s now tied to their family.

  “He is, but they don’t trust any of the families.”

  “Is there a contract on my head?” I question, knowing they would have that answer.

  “No, but I’m betting they’re waiting for your father.”

  “Or he made a deal with them to off me.”

  Joey leans in and says, “Everything is prepared.” He pulls out two envelopes and hands them to me. I’ve gathered some interesting info about each family. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to warn them that I’m serious.

  “Pass the envelopes to b
oth of them when we head out,” I tell Martin.

  We exit the courthouse with Martin and Dimitri walking in front of me while Joey crowds me. I look right at D’Angelo’s man and say, “I’m not a mobster. Leave me alone or I’ll show the world what I have learned about your family.” I repeat that shit straight to the Avanti family and then look at both families and say, “Excuse me, fuckers. I have a legal business to run.”

  I say goodbye to Dimitri who came in with Martin, but Martin will be riding back with me. Joey pulls out and we begin the eight-hour drive with the current traffic back to my home outside NYC. After two minutes we know that we’re not being followed, which makes me relax. The ride to my house takes longer as the traffic picks up. The release process took almost five hours, and it’s already two. By the time I get home, it’s going to be late at night, so I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to pay my family a visit.

  “I need some food. I haven’t eaten much since you gave me the news.”

  “What do you want to eat?” Joey asks.

  “Let’s pop into a fast-food burger place. I’m not too picky about it, but I could really use something with fucking flavor.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll do the drive-thru.”

  “Okay.” Five minutes later we pull off on an exit and hit a burger drive-thru, and that shit’s no joke. It’s been so damn long since I’ve had a great burger. We eat in the parking lot away from all the other parked vehicles.

  “So, I’ve managed to get my hands on the supplies you needed. They’re all at the estate already so we can test them out and go from there,” Martin says. He knows where to get high-tech, untraceable devices just in case. I played fair before, but those days are over.

  “Sounds good. Now, how about we head back before it gets any later?” Joey nods and then continues the long drive.

  It’s late by the time we pull through the gates. “Thank you all for what you have done.”

  Stepping into my house, I release a sigh of pure contentment. “I’ll address the staff in the morning. Right now, I just want my bed,” I say to Martin. “Please give Joey a room.”