Mafia Darling (The Kings of Italy Book 2)

Enzo jerked me closer and started moving backward. “I’ve lost nothing. I still have your puttanella. I’ll kill her.”

Fausto prowled forward, his gun remaining trained on Enzo. “You die either way.”

“Put down your gun or I’ll shoot her. Right fucking now!” Enzo shook me, his arm coming around my throat, and I gasped.

Something flashed on Fausto’s face at the sound, but he didn’t take his gun off Enzo. “I don’t think so. You are going to let her go.”

“Wrong, I’m going to keep her. I think I will let her watch as I kill you.”

“Marco!” Fausto shouted, his voice echoing in the large space.

Marco stepped into the doorway, but he wasn’t alone. He had a woman and two small children with him. Their mouths were covered with duct tape, hands bound, eyes wide with fear. It looked as if they’d all been pulled out of their beds, with the kids still in pajamas. Marco’s gun was aimed at the children.

Enzo went perfectly still behind me. His voice was low and angry as he slowly said, “You dare to kidnap my family?”

My stomach sank. Wives and children were supposed to be off limits. What had Fausto been thinking? Was he trying to get me killed?

“Drop your weapon and let her go,” Fausto growled. “I won’t ask you again. If you don’t, you know what will happen. I won’t hesitate, D’Agostino.”

The cool metal left my temple and I saw Enzo lower the gun out of my peripheral vision. Then his arm loosened and he stepped back. I wasn’t certain what to do, so I stood there, waiting. Was this it? Was I really free?

Giulio and two other soldiers hurried forward and quickly restrained Enzo. The D’Agostino children leaned into their mother, who tried to curl her body around them, protecting them. My heart went out to her. Soon I would be that mother, protecting her child at the expense of her own safety.

Fausto never took his eyes off Enzo. “Francesca, the car. Now.”

He thought he could order me around? Had he lost his mind in the last month?

“Francesca,” my baby daddy snapped when I didn’t move.

I lifted my chin and stared him down. “I’m not leaving until I know what you are planning.”

“That is not your concern. Go. Now.”

“What are you going to do, Fausto?”

“Cazzo,” he hissed. “Do as you are told. Get inside the car waiting out front.”

“If you are planning on killing this man in front of his children, I will not allow it. Also, if you are planning on harming these children, I will not allow it.”

His lips thinned as he stepped over to me, right into my personal space. Broad shoulders and a wide chest filled my vision.

Leaning close, he said quietly into my ear, “You think to tell me what to do, dolcezza? That is not how this works, if you recall.”

My mouth dried out as the familiar tug between us roared to life, but I stood firm. He’d lost the right to call me dolcezza when he kicked me out. “This doesn’t work at all, if you recall. We’re done. So yes, I will tell you exactly what to do.”

Shockingly, the edge of his mouth lifted slightly. “I am glad to see being kidnapped has not crushed your spirit.”

“Maybe you Italians just suck at kidnapping.”

He dragged the back of a knuckle across my cheek. “Dio, I have missed you.”

I shoved his hand away. “Don’t.”

His eyes lost their warmth, and it seemed the temperature in the room dropped by forty degrees. Stepping back, he said, “We will discuss this later. Get in the fucking car.”

I didn’t move, except to cross my arms over my chest.

Enzo chuckled, which probably didn’t help matters. Fausto stormed over to the other don and punched him in the face. Enzo’s head snapped sideways, but Giulio and the other soldiers kept him on his feet.

“Fausto, his family,” I hissed. No child should witness such brutality, even if their father deserved it. “Think about what you are doing for one goddamn minute.”

Fausto’s gaze cut to me and we stared at each other for several beats. I didn’t flinch. Women and children were off limits, period. Just because Enzo broke that rule with me didn’t mean Fausto should, too. He was a controlling asshole, but he respected tradition and rules. He knew Enzo’s wife and children were innocent. If the roles were reversed, how would Fausto want his own wife and children treated?

Cursing, Fausto grabbed Enzo’s hair and tilted his head back. Blood poured from Enzo’s mouth but his eyes remained defiant. Moving in, Fausto spoke quietly, not loud enough for Enzo’s family to hear, but I caught every word. “I am going to gut you like a fish and feed your entrails to the pigs on my estate.”

Enzo spat on the ground at Fausto’s feet.

Giulio shook his head, like he knew this would only make things worse. Fausto lifted his chin toward his son. “Get him on the boat.”

Enzo was dragged out of the beach house by Giulio and the two soldiers. I went to the D’Agostino family and knelt in front of the children first. “I know you’re scared,” I whispered in my best Italian. “But your mamma is here to protect you. Always.”

They didn’t respond, just huddled closer to their mother, so I stood to face Enzo’s wife. Reaching for the duct tape, I told her, “This will hurt. I’m sorry.”

She nodded and I ripped the heavy tape off her mouth as quickly as possible. Surprisingly, she didn’t make a sound, though I knew from experience it hurt like holy hell. “Grazie,” she said. Somehow I knew she meant for not forcing her children to watch their father being brutally murdered.

I squeezed her bound hands. “Prego.”

Fausto ordered Marco to take the D’Agostino family outside, which left me alone with him. He tucked his pistol into his waistband at the small of his back and crossed his arms over his chest. “You are angry with me.”

I wanted to rail at him for asking such a stupid question, but honestly I was tired. “Actually, I’m over it. Just like I’m over you. Put me on a plane and send me back to Toronto. Now.”

“Never. I will not let you go.”

“Again, you mean. You will not let me go again. Because you did let me go, Fausto, and you can’t decide you want your toy back just because someone else now has it. You gave your toy away, you selfish asshole.”

The lines of his face sharpened, his cheekbones harsh slashes in the dim lighting. “You are the mother of my child and my mantenuta, therefore I can decide whatever the fuck I want when it comes to you. I know you are angry but you will forgive me in time.”

He said this with such confidence, such arrogance, that I barked a laugh. “You are unbelievable. I’m not your mantenuta any more, and you lost all rights to this child when you kicked me out!”

“I apologize for my temper. I should not have reacted so harshly when we argued. If I could go back, I would handle things differently.”

“That is what you said about the previous two times you sent me away. No more, Fausto. I’m done with you.”

His right eye twitched. “I waged a war to rescue you, Francesca. I made a deal with the Cosa Nostra to help me extricate you from D’Agostino.”

As flattering as he made it sound, I knew the real story. “Bullshit. You hated Enzo from that meeting on the yacht. He insulted you by refusing to allow you in on his computer fraud scheme.” I hadn’t picked up all the details, but my limited Italian had let me glean at least that much. Surprise flashed in his expression, so I gave him a smug smile. “I’m very good at eavesdropping. You should remember that.”

Out of the depths of the house, a soldier appeared, a petrified Mariella at his side. “Don Ravazzani, what should we do with her?”

Mariella’s gaze met mine and I could see her begging for help. Bitch, please. She had helped Enzo at every turn. “Leave her,” I told Fausto. “Without his money she’ll wither and die like an old prune.”

Fausto turned to the soldier. “You heard my woman. Leave her.”

My woman. I rolled my eyes. What a joke.

“Now,” he said, giving me his full attention. “Let’s return to the castello. The plane is waiting.”

“Fuck off, Fausto. I’m not your woman and I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Oh, he didn’t like that one bit. His body seemed to swell, anger coming off him waves. “I cannot drug you this time because of the child, but I can tie you up, Francesca. I can force you to come with me.”

“Why would you bother? I’ll never sleep with you again and I’ll try to escape at every turn. It’s a waste of your time.”

“Never is a long time, dolcezza. Would you care to bet on that?”

Based on the way my heart was pounding right now, absolutely not. “If you don’t let me go, I will do everything I can to make your life a living hell.”

He closed the distance between us and wrapped a large hand around my arm. “No need because I am already there. I have been since the moment I ordered you to leave.”

While I was trying to make sense of that statement, he procured a pair of handcuffs from the pocket of his pants. Too late I realized what he was doing. In a flash he had a metal bracelet locked around my wrist, and he clapped the other around his own.

Great. Handcuffed to Fausto. Again.

Fausto

I watched her pretend to sleep next to me on the plane. Did she think I wouldn’t notice the pulse racing at the base of her throat? Clearly she was awake, but I let her have this. She was pissed enough. It would take time to win her over once again.

But I would. What she and I had together was too strong, too wild to deny.

Had Enzo hurt her? I had no idea how she’d suffered at my enemy’s hands, except for the photo of her on her knees, a goddamn gun in her mouth. D’Agostino would pay for that a thousand-fold before I was done with him. Was there anything else? I needed to find out what happened during her captivity—not only to exact retribution on Enzo, but to offer her support and comfort.

I examined her as best I could, but saw no bruises or cuts. No welts or broken bones. Perhaps the damage is where I cannot see. My blood ran cold at the thought. Had Enzo raped her? Or harmed my child in some way?

“Stop staring at me,” she muttered. “It’s creepy. And stop fidgeting. I’m trying to sleep.”

“Cazzata. You cannot sleep any easier than I can.” My adrenaline was still high from the attack, and worries over her clouded my brain. “Besides, the flight is only a little over an hour. By the time you fall asleep I will need to force you awake.”

“God, I hate you.”

I smothered a smile. If she hated me, she still felt something and I could work with that. Before then, there were practicalities to be dealt with, like the man who had dared to take her from me. “Did Enzo hurt you?”

“Worried that your toy is broken?”

“Francesca,” I snapped. “This is serious. Did he touch you or hurt you? Or hurt our child in any way?”

“Other than brushing a hand over my boob, he didn’t touch me. No, don’t worry. He didn’t hurt me nearly as badly as you did.”

I winced, unable to help myself. I didn’t like the idea of hurting her. I hadn’t cared about a mantenuta’s feelings before, but for some reason Francesca’s mattered to me. It was strange.

When Lucia and I were married, I hadn’t cared much for her feelings, either. She was there to oversee my home and care for my children, a part she had been raised to perform. There hadn’t been any discord or arguments. She wouldn’t have dared. My wife had bowed to my every whim, my every demand. The news about her death hadn’t sent me into a tailspin.

So why had Francesca’s kidnapping affected me so dramatically?

I didn’t want to think about it. I had her back and that was what mattered. She would forgive me and everything would return to the way it was before, with fucking and laughter and our naughty games.

I cleared my throat. “Still, I will have the doctor examine you when we return home.”

“Home,” she sneered. “It’s not my home.”

“Lamborghini and Vincenzo have missed you. Zia, Giulio. Even Marco.”

“Now I know you are lying. Marco hates me.”

My cousin did not like Francesca, true. He thought she made me vulnerable. That she distracted me from ’ndrina business. Perhaps it was the case, which was why I needed our relationship to return to what it had been before as quickly as possible. “I missed you.”

That got her to open her eyes, but there was no fire in them. No spark, just flat loathing. Even when I kidnapped her in Toronto there had been a flash in her gaze, a heat between us. “You missed a warm hole to shove your cock into.”

I heard murmuring, which reminded me we weren’t alone on the plane. A dozen or so soldiers were on board for protection. “Lower your voice,” I told her.

“Why? I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not the one who knocked up his mistress, then sent her away and put her under house arrest, alone. You didn’t give a shit about what happened to me or our child.”

“Is that what you think? I had guards and cameras on you every second. My son brought you food and gave you books to read. Ginger candies for nausea.”

Her brows shot up. “You spied on me.”

“My men sent me reports each day. I knew exactly what you were doing at every second.”

“Except for when I was being kidnapped.”

I ground my back teeth together. “Yes, that unfortunate oversight has been dealt with.”

“Unfortunate oversight.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

“Careful,” I leaned in to say. “I like when you show spirit, dolcezza.”

She edged as far away from me as the handcuffs allowed and closed her eyes. “Noted. I won’t do it again.”

I decided not to push it. Not until the doctor examined her and declared that she and the baby were unharmed. Only then could I bring Francesca around. In the end, I would win this battle of wills.

She looked good. Even better than I remember. No baby bump yet, but her tits were bigger, her skin glowing. I wanted her so badly that my teeth ached with it.

I shifted in my seat and tried to concentrate on tonight. I needed to deal with Enzo. Marco and Giulio were on the yacht, bringing him to the castello dungeon, where I planned to keep him for a long time. No easy death awaited Enzo. He had dared to kidnap my woman and blackmail me. I had a feeling La Provencia would have something to say about this retribution against another clan, but I didn’t care. The other ’ndrina bosses hadn’t seen their woman on her knees, tied up with a gun shoved in her mouth. No, Enzo would remain my prisoner until I tired of torturing him.

When we finally touched down in Siderno, I led her to the waiting Range Rover and helped her up. She didn’t speak, her movements sluggish. The car drove away from the landing strip and I pulled out my phone. After ordering the doctor to the castello, I called Marco.

“Where are you?” I asked, anxious to get started.

“We should arrive by early morning,” my cousin said.

I tapped my fingers on my knee. I should have brought Enzo on the plane with me. It would have been faster. But I’d wanted to protect Francesca from him. “Keep me updated throughout the night. I’ll be awake.”

I hung up before he could chastise me about sleeping. I didn’t want to hear it.

The castello’s front door opened as soon as we pulled into the drive. Zia stood there, watching as the SUV rolled to a stop. I helped Francesca to the ground and took her hand like we weren’t still cuffed together. We climbed the steps and Zia barely stepped back to allow us inside.

My aunt placed both hands on Francesca’s face and began speaking rapidly in Italian. “Thank God that He has spared you a terrible fate. And the baby! You must rest, beautiful girl.”

“Okay, I caught most of that, I think,” Francesca said with a weary laugh. “Ciao, Zia.”

Zia kissed both her cheeks. “Do not put Fausto through such agony again, please.” Holding up Francesca’s wrist, she snapped at me, “Unlock her, you pig.”

I retrieved the key and removed the handcuffs. Zia took Francesca’s hand and began leading her toward the kitchen. “The doctor is coming to check her,” I called out to my aunt.

“He will have to wait. She is too thin and the baby needs food to stay healthy.”

I followed. Though I needed to shower, I didn’t trust Francesca not to bolt out the back door. She’d done it once before. I would need to put guards on her at all times. Until Marco returned and could organize security for her, I had to stay close.

When I entered the kitchen, Zia was placing a plate of chicken, roasted potatoes and asparagus in front of Francesca. There was a bottle of sparkling water on the counter. I reached for it and Zia smacked my hand. “That is not for you.”

“Dai, old woman. I am the one who rescued her.”

“And you are also the one who drove her away.”

“I love when Zia yells at you,” Francesca said. “Because you deserve it.”

I dropped onto the stool next to Francesca and suppressed a groan. My back hurt and I think there were deep scrapes across my ribs. “May I also have a plate?” I asked Zia.

She ignored me. Instead she cut a slice of walnut cake and put it beside Francesca’s dinner. Sighing, I rose and fixed a plate of food for myself. When I returned to my seat, I scowled at Zia. “You are forgetting who helped you when Zio Dario passed.”

“Your father, as I recall. You were busy with your women and rising through the ranks.”

Not true. My father planned to pawn Zia off on Marco’s father until I intervened. I’d always liked her best growing up, constantly clinging to her as a small boy after my mother died. If not for me, Zia would be living in a tiny house fifteen miles away in the middle of nowhere.

Now ravenous, I started eating. After a few bites, I noticed that Francesca was picking at her food. Zia was at the stove, stirring soup, so I leaned over and asked quietly, “Do you not like it?”

“I feel sick to my stomach, but I don’t want to hurt Zia’s feelings.”

“Eat what you can. I will make sure Zia understands.”

She lifted a piece of chicken to her mouth, but quickly recoiled, her face turning white. I took the fork out of her hand and set it down. “So you don’t feel up to eating chicken. Is it the taste?”

“The taste, the smell. The look of it. In fact, the only thing I want to eat right now is the cake.”

Standing, I took our two dinner plates and moved them to the sink. Then I handed the cake platter to Francesca and stuck a fork in the top. Her brows knitted in confusion. “You’re giving me the whole cake?”

Instead of answering, I lifted her off the stool and into my arms, cake and all. “Send the doctor to my room,” I told Zia. “Francesca doesn’t feel well.”