Antonello (Mob Men Book 1) Read online

  "Please," I begin to beg. "Let me go. Please don't kill me. I'll do anything." I begin to sob and I feel Nello's weight lift off me. My wrist hurts like a motherfucker and I have to try keeping it still so it stops bleeding.

  The men don't show any signs of sympathy.

  What kind of people are these??

  Gian's phone rings and he answers it by saying "Gianmarco" and he backs out of the room and shuts the door.

  Gianmarco.

  Antonello.

  Bianchi.

  These names all seem to have something in common.

  "Are you in the mafia?" I blurt out like the blubbering idiot I am.

  Nello's strides are fast as he quickly appears on top of me.

  His hand goes right to my throat and my heart drops into my stomach.

  He applies pressure but it doesn't hurt.

  "What did you just say to me?" He growls into my ear.

  I swallow with difficulty under his grasp and notice that while he's holding me by my throat his thumb is gently caressing my jaw.

  Something in me flicks on and suddenly I feel flutters in my belly.

  "I'm sorry," I manage to get out.

  His face is close to mine and I am suddenly aware of how his body is pressed up to mine.

  My breathing quickens and I try to remind myself just how dangerous this man is.

  He eases himself off of me and I instantly miss his presence.

  This is all kinds of fucked up.

  Gian reenters and I overhear him speak in low tones to Nello. "We've got a problem."

  They both leave the room and leave me tied to the bed. It’s when they’re gone that I realize how scared I am to be alone in here.

  I roll to my side the best I can and let the tears I've been holding back fall.

  Chapter 2

  Antonello

  Two hundred fucking shipments. I cannot believe this. I slam my fist into the wall and I feel it break beneath my knuckles.

  "Is he sure?" I ask Gian.

  I am in disbelief.

  My cousin Tony called and said someone intercepted our shipments at the port. Over two hundred are missing. That's over a million dollars.

  "He says possibly the Crisanti family."

  "I knew it. I said a year ago we should've worked out a deal with that family. Uncle Sal didn't want to hear it and now we are absolutely fucked. Lorenzo never stops until he gets what he wants, that bastard."

  Lorenzo is the Crisanti’s Don. He’s also a huge pain in the ass.

  I have too much on my plate right now. Between doing my hits, helping out at the ports, and now trying to figure out what to do with my little witness upstairs, I need a break.

  I walk over to my bar and pour a glass of whiskey. I down it in three gulps.

  "There has to be a way we can resolve this. We do not need to be at war right now," I tell him.

  He shakes his head. "Listen, I am going to head over to Uncle Sal's. We are going to need to sort this out and make a plan. You're on your own with that little minx upstairs."

  I notice how quickly he changes his tune about her. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I tend to get a little possessive over what’s mine.

  And since she's in my bed right now, I'd say she’s mine.

  He heads out and I decide I better bring Violet something to eat. I look in the fridge and I realize this is a lot harder when I have no idea what she likes. She's going to have to eat what I give her.

  I make a quick turkey sandwich and head upstairs with it. When I enter the room she has her back to me. Her arm is twisted at an odd angle and I see some of the blood has dried in streaks down her arm.

  I set a bottle of water and the sandwich on the nightstand.

  I turn to leave the room and I notice she rolls over.

  "I brought you something to eat," I say as I continue to head out the door.

  "Fuck you!" she yells back at me. I turn to look at her and see she is shooting daggers my way. She is a feisty little thing. I will give her that.

  She holds my gaze as she reaches over, grabs the plate, and throws the entire thing across the room.

  Within an instant I'm back at the bed and I'm on top of her. She looks scared but I also see a bit of excitement dancing in her eyes. It's like she's pushing me on purpose.

  She's testing my fucking limits.

  I am a dangerous man. She certainly does not want to fuck with me.

  "Let me go!" She yells. "You can't just kidnap me! People will know I’m missing! You'll be caught real soon!" There she goes with that accent again.

  She starts thrashing again underneath me and keeps yelling nonsense.

  I give her my most deathly glare. The glare that makes grown men piss themselves.

  I see a mix of fear and a smart-ass smirk on her face.

  "You better watch yourself, dolcezza. I’ll make you regret that smart mouth very soon."

  I climb off her and walk out of the room. Let her endure the smell of a sandwich she knows she can't reach.

  An hour goes by and I haven't been in to check on Violet. I’m sure at this point she may need to use the bathroom. I can't risk having her get away so I'm going to have to take her to the toilet.

  My phone goes off before I can make it upstairs. I see it’s Gian calling me.

  "I hope you have some good news for me," I say into the phone.

  "Actually, it depends on how you want to look at it."

  I give him silence. I know he’s about to talk in code.

  "Uncle Sal wants to make a truce with you know who."

  "Okay, that sounds like a good start for me. What does he have in mind?"

  There's a long pause.

  "Lorenzo wants to marry his daughter off to you."

  I nearly drop my phone.

  "He what? That's his truce? Why me?"

  "He offered up his daughter and Uncle Sal picked you. I don't fuckin' know. I’m just relaying what I heard."

  "Gian, I cannot marry an eighteen-year-old."

  "What's so wrong with that? I wish Uncle Sal would've chosen me. Seems pretty hot. You get some smoking eighteen-year-old gifted to you. Who complains about that?"

  "Yeah, well maybe that’s your wet dream, cazzo. It’s not so bad when your stupid ass is twenty-five. But I am thirty fucking years old!"

  I feel my body growing hot with anger. I go over to pour more whiskey and see if that can help calm my nerves.

  Caterina is knocking at the door so I put my glass down and go over to let her in. She's holding about a dozen bags from all different stores. Victoria's Secret, SAKS 5th Avenue, Sephora, Lord and Taylor.

  I point to the phone and tell my sister it's Gian on the line.

  She settles all the bags down on the floor and I am getting ready to shoo her out the door. I distractedly tell her thanks but she's not going without a fight. "Nello, you can't order me to bring over all these things and not tell me who they're for! You have a girlfriend, don't you? You better tell me what's going on! Who is she?" She's jumping up and down while I am trying to finish my conversation with Gian.

  He's still talking through the phone so I try to zone out Caterina.

  "I don't think this is really something you can say no to. I don't think you really have a choice. What can you possibly say to Uncle Sal to change his mind? It's not like you're engaged. Hell, you don't even have a fucking girlfriend."

  Caterina is practically jumping on me now. "Did Gian say you have a girlfriend? I knew it! I freaking knew it!"

  "Caterina, goddammit, I do not have a girlfri-"

  I stop myself mid-sentence.

  "Caterina. Go. I'll text you later." I kiss my sister on the cheek and practically kick her out the door.

  Gian's been silent on the line. "She left," I tell him.

  "I think you just solved two problems, brother."

  Violet

  I am ready to pee myself. I should’ve never thrown the sandwich. But I had to at least try and fight. I just had to. I feel
like now he’s punishing me.

  My stomach growls as I eye the sandwich in a heap on the floor.

  If I pee on this bed, I am going to be mortified. As I look around the room I conclude it’s definitely not a guest room. I cannot pee on some random mobsters bed.

  The door opens and I don’t even want to make eye contact with Nello.

  “I have to use the bathroom,” I say looking at the floor. “It’s an emergency.”

  “Well, thanks for not going in my bed,” he attempts to joke. I don’t laugh. If anything my heart rate picks up at knowing all this time I was lying in his bed.

  He reaches in his pocket and quickly whips out a knife. I immediately whimper.

  “Wait, wait! I’m sorry about the sandwich. I’m sorry about being a witness,” I double back, “I mean, I’m not a witness. I didn’t see anything!”

  I watch as the knife doesn’t go to my neck like I thought but to the zip tie around my wrist.

  Before he brings the knife to the zip tie he looks me in the eye.

  “Dolcezza, I am going to tell you this only once.” His eyes look lethal. “You run, I will do whatever I have to in order to catch you.”

  He looks so dangerous especially holding a knife that I wouldn’t dare run.

  The zip tie breaks under his knife and I immediately grab my wrist. My shoulder kills and my wrist feels like it’s sprained. Nello sits on the bed and takes my wrist in his hands. He examines it and I study his face while he’s so close to me. He has striking features. The edges are sharp and chiseled. His expressions are not soft in the least. It looks like he’s stressed to no end.

  I can’t imagine what kind of stress a mobster must be under, but I can see it on Nello’s stunning face.

  “Let’s go.” He helps me off the bed and walks me to an adjoining bathroom. It’s all white marble and much brighter than I was expecting. He rinses my wrist off under warm water and he’s much more gentle than I would’ve thought. I’m afraid to talk so I just keep observing him.

  He gets a first aid kit from under the sink and pours something on my wrist that makes it sting.

  “Ahh,” I wince.

  He wraps my wrist up in a bandage and I notice a little bit of blood starting to seep through already.

  “Okay, go to the bathroom,” he instructs but still stands in the room.

  “I can’t go to the bathroom with you in here,” I talk back.

  “Then you can hold it. I am not walking out of this room so you can try and stab me with a shard of glass, which by the way will never work because I will take you down so quickly you won’t even have a minute to scream,” he threatens.

  I huff and pull my pants down the slightest bit to get on the toilet while still shielding myself. I feel like I can’t even pee with him standing there.

  I glare at him the whole time.

  After I wash my hands I assume he is going to take me back to the bed so I’m surprised when he leads me out of the bedroom.

  I try to take in all of my surroundings so I can figure out how to escape. I look for anything to hit him with. I have to at least make an effort to run away.

  I keep telling myself this could all be a trick and he’s still planning to kill me.

  He leads me downstairs and I find his house is much larger than I originally thought. Also, I’m surprised to see lots of pictures around. We reach the bottom of the stairs and I find myself peeking at what looks like family photos. I see Gian in most of them. I walk passed a large one on the wall of Nello embracing a beautiful girl. I assume it’s his girlfriend and I roll my eyes as we pass it.

  Of course he’d have a girlfriend. I don’t know why I’d think he wouldn’t.

  He leads me to the kitchen and I stop in my tracks.

  The table is set neatly and I see a bottle of wine on the table. I also smell Italian cooking.

  “Expecting your girlfriend over tonight? Don’t let me interrupt. I can just go if you’d let me.”

  He gives me an icy glare.

  “Sit,” he orders and points to the chair. “Don’t try anything you may regret later.” I assume he’s insinuating stabbing him with a fork or throwing a plate at him. Those are great ideas actually.

  He starts putting lasagna in my plate and I eye him suspiciously.

  “Why are you being so nice to me? Is this because it’s my last meal?”

  He doesn’t answer me.

  Wow, he really is Mr. Personality.

  He sits down across from me and pours wine for us both.

  “Eat,” he orders me.

  “Hell no! How do I know this isn’t poisoned?”

  He huffs and grabs my plate and switches it with his and takes his seat again.

  I eye up both plates.

  “Can I have my plate back?”

  “I thought you said it was poisoned?” He is losing patience with me.

  “Yes, but I bet you knew I’d ask you to switch so you gave yourself the poisoned one which is now mine.” I cross my arms.

  He leans forward and digs his fork into my lasagna and eats it. Then he takes his fork and takes a bite from his plate.

  “I’m still alive so clearly it’s fine. Now eat.”

  I shut my mouth and I start to eat.

  Did he make this? Wow, it’s good. The only lasagna I’ve had usually came in a box. I don’t compliment him, though. He’s already got a big enough head.

  I put my fork down.

  “Why are you being nice to me?”

  He stares back at me. Somebody needs to teach this guy how to converse.

  I prod. “Why are you feeding me a fancy dinner? Why not just make me another sandwich?”

  Okay, now he looks pissed. My heart drops.

  “If you want a fucking sandwich I’ll make you a fucking sandwich and then I’ll tie you back to the fucking bed. Is that what you want?”

  “No, no. Please. I’m sorry.” I look down into my dish and will myself not to cry. I never seem to say the right thing.

  We’re both quiet for a beat.

  “Eat,” he orders me again.

  I fork a tiny amount and shove it into my mouth and chew.

  “I thought I’d make you a nice dinner because I’d like to make a deal with you.”

  I light up. A deal! Yes, a deal is good.

  “Yes! Anything! You’re letting me go, right?” I sound a little over-excited.

  He downs half his glass of wine before continuing.

  “The deal is you are going to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

  I stare back at him. This is a joke and I am certainly not laughing.

  “Real funny. What’s the real deal? You’re letting me go but you’re banishing me across the country? Because really, I could live with that--”

  He cuts me off.

  “No. I’m serious. You will pretend to be my girlfriend.”

  “And if I don’t agree?”

  “Then I kill you.” He says it so nonchalantly. What the fuck?

  “What?! You can’t tell me to either be your girlfriend or you’ll kill me!”

  “I didn’t. I said you will pretend to be my girlfriend. And you will comply and if you do not I will kill you like I should have earlier.” His voice is clipped. I feel like he’s leaving no room for argument. Although I must be asking for an early death if I want to argue with a mobster.

  Which apparently I do, as I continue with my smart mouth.

  “What’s the matter? Can’t find a girlfriend in real life that you need to stoop so low to force me to be yours? Or did that girl in the picture over there dump your sorry ass?”

  Suddenly, he’s standing and his chair is on its side.

  I’m shaking as he picks me up. I scream and thrash and I try anything to get out of his hold. He starts taking me out of the room and I somehow manage to grab something off the hall table and hit him with it. I don’t know what it is but I hear glass break as it falls to the ground.

  “Let me go!” I scream. “I hate you, you stu
pid fucking gangster!”