Dark Blood: A Mafia Hitman Romance (12 page)

W
e wake up together
, entwined in each other’s arms. I relish the moment when she’s still asleep, breathing deeply in my arms. My fingers trace her cheekbones gently as I remember the night we just spent together.

Bianca is fucking perfect, right down to the parts of her that make me want to scream. And now I know I’ll never be able to let go of her.

She wakes up moments after I do, and I watch as realization dawns on her as she opens her eyes. First she remembers her father passing and I see the tears gathering in her eyes. Then, she recalls our lovemaking, and this puts a spark in her eyes, and I fucking love it. I’m going to enjoy looking for that spark in her eyes every morning for the rest of my goddamned life.

“Are you okay?” I ask her softly. She nods, cuddling up closer to me. I feel so fucking relieved. Part of me honestly believed she would push me away again…but after last night, how could she possibly do that? We belong to one another now. Always.

I wrap her up in a blanket and pull her into my lap. She straddles me and her hair envelops us in a silky curtain as we kiss. Her pussy is warm against me, but I know she’s sore, so I don’t push for more. My arms wrap around her waist and I kiss her long and deep.

“Thank you,” she whispers in my ear. “For last night....”

I have my own doubts about what happened. Yes, it was beautiful, but the timing wasn’t right, or so I thought. Now that she sits in my lap though, I understand how badly she needed to have me inside her. And I understand. I’m grateful she shared that part of herself with me at a time when she was the most vulnerable.

“Do you want to get some breakfast?” I ask her, and she nods. I leave her in the bed after placing a fleeting kiss on her lips, and get dressed. I head out of the room and order the cook to bring her breakfast in bed. Then, I head to the garden to catch a breath of fresh air. As desperate as I am to be back with her, I need to clear my head.

I’ve never felt like this. Never, with all the women I’ve been with, have I felt such a desperate need to be with a woman. I’m realizing she’s it for me – the end point, the one. She’s the one whom I’ve been searching for my entire life, and was afraid of finding for as long as I can remember.

Except letting go has never felt this beautiful. I was wrong about love. I thought it was the sign of a weak man. Now I understand it is the sign of a strong one.

On my way back to the house, I cut a perfect pink rose from a bush in the garden using my pocket knife. I hand it to her once I’m back in her bedroom, and her pretty blue eyes light up. “For my princess,” I tell her. “Though it doesn’t match your beauty.”

She smiles and kisses me. From now on, I will live for the moments when her lips connect with mine.

A knock sounds at the door signaling the arrival of breakfast. We sit next to one another on the bed surrounded by croissants, pastry, eggs and freshly squeezed orange juice. Bianca giggles as I feed it to her bite by bite, and I am grateful for being able to provide her with a small distraction from the reality of our current situation.

Once we have finished eating, the female assistant from last night comes into the room. She blushes when she sees how comfortable we are, but she doesn’t comment. Smart woman.

She explains what will happen with the funeral, and we both console Bianca as she cries. She has my girl sign some papers before expressing her condolences and finally leaving the room so we can be alone. I hold Bianca, stroking her hair, until she stops crying.

“I’m sorry about your father,” I tell her, and I mean it. In the past few weeks, I’d grown to like Da Costa. No, we never became particularly close, but we understood and respected each other’s roles as important figures in Bianca’s life.. “I will make sure his memory is never forgotten.”

“Thank you,” she says. She looks up into my eyes and I see a silent question there. But she’s too afraid to ask it.

“What is it, Bianca?” I stoke her hair, my thumb rubbing her reddened cheeks. “You can tell me anything, princess. Just go ahead.”

“I….” She bites her bottom lip, a sight to fucking behold. “I need to find my brother.”

I consider her request. Of course, she’s talking about the little boy I was supposed to kill. In the past few weeks, I think my father and Da Costa resolved their grudge. I’m pretty certain the boy is safe now. “I know where he is,” I confide reluctantly.

Her eyes widen, and I half expect her to start hitting me again, just like she did last night.

“Why?” she asks instead. “Why didn’t you tell my father?”

Time for the moment of truth. “I spoke to his doctors, Bianca,” I say with a heavy heart. “That trip would’ve killed him. It was too dangerous…. I wanted you to have as much time with your father as possible. I knew you wouldn’t get that had I told him where your brother was.”

She stares at me for a long time. It seems as if she’s deciding how to react to what I’ve just told her. Finally, she nods, and I see she understands. For that, I am thankful.

“I want to go see him,” she says, sounding determined. I nod right away – this is what I’ve been expecting all along. My plan was never to keep their family apart, but instead ensure Da Costa stayed alive as long as possible.

Being his only daughter, I understand Bianca will become heir to a vast mafia family. And I know it will be difficult for her. But I will stand by her side and give her everything and anything she wants and needs.

“We can go,” I promise her. “I’ll plan everything. Get packed. Summer clothes.”

“Where do they live?” she asks me curiously. I can tell there’s a million other questions she wants to ask me, but she’s holding back.

I smile at her. “Palermo.”

“Palermo?” Bianca looks confused. “I haven’t heard of that place,” she admits, making me grin like a fool. “Where is it? Arizona?”

“Sicily, princess.”

* * *

T
he flight is long
, but at least it’s comfortable. My father lets us borrow his private jet for the journey, and we leave the Da Costa’s in the capable hands of the assistant, Carole, with whom Bianca has become quite close.

It’s always been a dream of mine to visit Sicily. My father and Da Costa both grew up here, and I know seeing the island in person means a lot to Bianca, as well.

She sleeps with her head on my shoulder for most of the plane ride, and I carry her off the plane once we land. We’re staying in a luxury hotel, so every need of ours will be met. My father organized the entire trip. I am still wary of him trying to make amends, but so far, Bianca has been gracious and accepting of his efforts.

As soon as we disembark the plane, we’re hit by the hot weather, the sun beating down on our skin. I take Bianca’s arm and guide her to the car waiting for us. She looks beautiful in a floral dress with a corset top and a flared skirt. And she’s finally all mine.

The drive to the hotel is but mere minutes, and I can tell by Bianca’s posture and behavior that she’s anxious to go see the boy right away. I have a crumpled piece of paper with the address in my hand, and her fingers shake as I hand it to her.

“Do you know what’s there?” she asks, and I shrug.

“Not sure. But we can use the car GPS to get there. Just put in the address.” I squeeze her hand gently, trying to reassure her. “Don’t worry, princess. I’m sure it’s all going to be all right.”

She nods and I lead her to the car as soon as we’ve unpacked our bags. We input the address, and a guard takes over at the wheel. I sit with Bianca in the back seat, and we admire the beautiful city through the tinted windows of the car.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she says.

“First time?” I ask her, and she nods. “Me, too. We should come back.”

“Maybe for our honeymoon,” Bianca suggests with a wicked grin, but as soon as she looks at me, she flushes deeply. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean it like that….”

In a split second, I’m on top of her. “Didn’t mean it like what?” I want to know, breathing down her neck. She moans under my touch. “I will marry you, Bianca Da Costa.”

Her body responds to me in ways her mouth never will. I am so fucking tempted to strip that damned dress off her, but before I can start working the buttons, the car’s already come to a stop in front of a large brick building.

We slide out of the car along with the guards, who keep a respectful distance from us. I put my hand on the small of Bianca’s back and lead her into the house. There are children everywhere, and a big sign that reads ‘L’Orfanotrofio’. I think I realize what it means before Bianca does.

A screaming middle-aged woman in a nun’s habit shoos some children out of her way and approaches us with a tired expression on her face. “Si?” she asks.

“We are here to see a little boy,” Bianca speaks to her in Italian. I’m not sure the woman speaks English. I can feel Bianca’s body trembling lightly under my fingertips.

“Who?” the nun wants to know.

“I…I don’t know his name.” Bianca looks at me with defeat. I smile at her reassuringly and grin at the nun. She mellows as soon as she sees me.

“His last name might be Da Costa,” I tell her in Italian. “But his mother’s last name was something else. Is this an orphanage?”

“Yes,” she nods, crossing herself and saying the Lord’s name. “We have children from throughout Palermo here. They attend school and live here until they are eighteen. How old is the boy you are looking for?”

Bianca looks at me for help, and I reply smoothly. “Nine, give or take a few years.”

I pull up his pictures on my phone and show the nun. Her friendly expression changes in a second, and she says a quick prayer again.

“Cristiano,” she says softly. “That is Cristiano.”

“Yes,” Bianca replies enthusiastically. “Can we see him?”

The nun looks at us for a long time before nodding. She turns around and walks in a different direction, and we both fall into step behind her. I must admit, curiosity is getting the better of me, too.

We walk through playroom upon playroom, all in this beautiful house, but there is no denying that the place has seen better days. The paint is peeling off the walls, and I’d rather not imagine how cold it gets here during the winter, as it’s chilly and damp even now in the heat of summer. I don’t express my worries to Bianca. She’s too excited, and I don’t want to worry her.

Finally, we ascend a rickety wooden staircase until we’ve arrived in a tiny bedroom. It’s not even a room, really, more of a spare closet with a bed stuck in it. A small boy is sitting on the edge of the bed, drawing in a notebook. He’s the boy from the pictures, and I feel Bianca’s hand tighten around mine.

“We had to move him up here,” the nun explains with no regard for the child, who is now watching us curiously. “Troublemaker, this one. Always fought with the other children.” She gives Bianca and me a curious look. “Who are you, anyway?”

Bianca’s eyes are glued to the little boy as she speaks. “I’m his older sister.”

The boy gets up from the bed and comes to stand in front of us. He is a handsome child with deep, dark and troubled eyes. I wonder how he ended up here, and how difficult his life has been compared to Bianca’s and mine.

“You are American?” he asks in shaky English, and Bianca kneels down next to him.

“Yes.” She opens up his palm and puts a photograph there. It’s a picture of her father when he was younger. “This is my dad. Yours, too. Have you seen him before?”

The boy looks at the photo curiously, concentrating on the image before his eyes. “This man,” he says, pointing at Da Costa. “He is…Daddy?”

“Yes.” Bianca has tears in her eyes as she looks up at me with a blissful smile. I already know she’s made up her mind. Whatever it takes, she’ll want to take her little brother home with us. “Have you seen him before?”

The boy shakes his head no. “Mama die,” he says. “I live here now mama is gone.”

“Would you like to come live with me?” Bianca asks him. The boy looks at her for a long moment before nodding solemnly. The tears start to fall freely from Bianca’s eyes as she embraces the boy. So easy, this whole thing. Almost too easy.

As my girl engages in conversation with the nun, I steal glances at the boy. There’s something in him, darkness that’s threatening to take him over. I only hope we’ve come early enough to stop that from happening. I know Bianca would never forgive herself if something happened to this boy.

The nun seems eager to speak to us about taking the boy away. I assume it’s because the orphanage is overcrowded, and I let Bianca talk to her to make arrangements while I study at the boy.

When he thinks no one is looking, he tears up the picture of his father, and I can see hatred in his eyes. He lets the pieces of the photograph float to the floor from his hand, and when he’s absolutely certain no one’s looking, he spits on the torn-up image.

T
he boy
, Cristiano, will move into the house with Matteo and me. On the plane ride home, I admire his handsome little face as he sleeps, and squeeze my man’s hand lovingly.

“Thank you,” I tell him honestly. “For taking me to him. God knows what would’ve happened if we hadn’t gotten him.”

Matteo seems a little hesitant about the whole thing, but I’m too afraid to ask why. I’m too worried he’ll confess he thinks the whole idea is a mistake, because his opinion means a lot to me. But at the same time, I’m going to do what I want. And I want Cristiano to grow up with a real family, not some Sicilian nuns in an orphanage.

“Why are you acting so hesitantly about this?” The words escape my mouth before I can stop myself, and I look at Matteo pleadingly. “Please, help me understand…. You don’t seem thrilled about this whole arrangement.”

“I just…,” he sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know anything about the boy, and it makes me uneasy.”

“Matteo, he is ten years old!” I exclaim, quickly looking in Cristiano’s direction to ensure he didn’t overhear me. But he’s still asleep, safe and sound in the big overstuffed chair of Abbate’s private jet. “How does he make you uneasy? Did he do something?”

Matteo looks at me for a long time before answering. “No.”

I can tell he’s lying and it pisses me off. I’m about to object when Cristiano yawns out loud and asks us how long we have left in the journey. I smile and answer him. He’s been such a good boy this whole trip, mesmerized by his first airplane trip. He looked out of the window for most of the trip and even visited the pilot in the cockpit. Finally, he dozed off after exploring the plane with the flight attendant.

He comes to sit in my lap and I smile victoriously at Matteo. He gives me a sad smile in return, and it makes my insides hurt. I don’t understand his reservations, but I know I’ll do my damnedest to make sure the two most important men in my life get along.

We land a few hours later. Cristian’s eyes are wide as he disembarks the plane. I have papers already waiting for him, and he lands on the ground as a U.S. citizen. It doesn’t matter how we arranged to get the papers for him. All that matters is that he’s here now and he’s legally a citizen.

Carole is waiting for us in the airport, and I smile as soon as I see her. I’d grown to trust my father’s former right hand assistant over the past few weeks. As far as I’m concerned, she’s family now. But she looks worried, and as I get closer and embrace her, my smile slowly dissipates.

“Something the matter?” I ask her once we break apart.

“Miss Bianca….” She’s her usual nervous self, but there’s something else present in her demeanor today. She has something to tell me, and I’m not going to like it. “Can we go sit down somewhere?”

“What’s this about?” Matteo’s arm wraps around my shoulders protectively, and I give Carole a long, searching look. “You may ride in the car with us and explain what is happening.”

“Thank you,” Carole says simply, her face lighting up when she sees Cristiano hiding behind me shyly. “And who might this be?”

I nudge him forward and introduce her to him as Auntie Carole. I’d like them to be close – it doesn’t matter to me that she’s part of the staff. In the past few weeks, she’s proven to be like family to me.

With the help of our two guards, we get all of our luggage and the tiny backpack Cristiano brought with him, and load it into the car sent to take us home. Cristiano sits in the front seat with the driver this time, so he can see our surroundings, and because I can’t deny his excitement. Plus, Matteo and I need some alone time with Carole to find out what’s bothering her.

As soon as the car starts moving, Carole begins to speak.

“You were gone a few days,” she starts. “And I did my best to keep things in order. But news of your father’s death came out, Miss Bianca. I knew it would, and I knew what would happen…. But I was too afraid to warn you.” She clutches my hand and gives me a desperate look. We’ve had quite a few heart-to-hearts over the past few weeks, Carole and I.

“What happened, Carole?” I ask. I’m worried. Surely nothing that big could’ve happened while we were gone. Daddy’s funeral hasn’t even taken place yet. I’m sure people respect that.

“I….” She swallows a lump in her throat, and Matteo and I exchange worried glances. Finally, she starts speaking, and it’s as if a dam has broken. “I tried my best to stop them, Miss Bianca. I tried so hard, but they raided your father’s house, the one he lived in with Lorenzo…. They live there now.”

“Who, Carole?” Matteo asks coldly. His touch against mine is hard and unrelenting. I can tell he’s pissed off – he always gets this way when someone disobeys him.

“Romeo and Leonardo. Do you remember them, Bianca?” Carole asks me desperately.

I furrow my brows. Yes, I remember the names – how could I not? They are my cousins, my father’s sister’s children. But they only have minor roles in the family business. My father never liked them. They were too young and too impulsive, he said. They’re my age, though I haven’t see them in years since I was at school, and even when I was still at home, we only saw each other at family functions.

“What did they do?” I ask harshly.

Carole sighs before speaking again. “They found out your father had passed away. News of that spread like wildfire…. They arrived in the mansion and claimed the family business couldn’t have a female successor. They took everything, and the staff was too afraid to fight them on it.”

“So let me get this straight,” Matteo spits out through gritted teeth. “Two men basically broke into the Da Costa mansion and are now living there without Bianca’s permission. Fuck that.” He looks like an angry beast, and I squeeze his hand gently to encourage him to calm down.

“They say it’s for the best if they take over,” Carole stutters. “They say you never wanted any part of the famiglia, anyway.”

It’s true. I’ve expressed my opinion about the mob several times, even to my cousins. I’m sure they were aware of my decision of not wanting to be involved. But that doesn’t give them the right to barge into my father’s house only days after he passed away.

“Your father,” Carole nods at Matteo. “He tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen. They are still there now, and the guards have pledged their allegiance to them as the new Da Costa heirs.”

Well, fuck.

“That’s going to be a problem,” Matteo says candidly.

“But let’s deal with it once we get to the house,” I say, trying to placate him. He gives me an empty look, one I’ve come to recognize when he’s already made up his mind about something. I sigh softly and sink into my seat, wondering what will happen upon our arrival home.

* * *

“
A
nd you’ve shacked
up with this cazzo? Disgusting.”

“Shut the fuck up before I break your teeth.”

“Don’t threaten my brother, you son of a bitch.”

“Get off him! Call help!”

The last few hours have been a whirlwind. My cousins and Matteo are at each other’s throats and I don’t see it stopping any time soon. As soon as we arrived at my house, they greeted us with looks of steely determination. They’d even made some of my own guards pledge allegiance to them, and even I’m pissed as hell. But mostly I’m…thankful, and relieved.

I never wanted the burden of the famiglia to fall on my shoulders. All I’ve wanted all along was to be a normal girl, not a pawn in one of my father’s – or now, cousins’ – games. I want to live a normal life with Matteo and stop fucking worrying about my obligation to the mafia.

But I’m too afraid to speak up and talk about it. I’m worried because Matteo is so intent on me being the sole heir, and I don’t want to disappoint him by telling him it’s the last thing I want. Instead of saying it out loud, I stare helplessly at my lover fighting my cousins. I don’t know what to do, and Carole and I exchange uncomfortable glances as the men have a go at it.

Romeo and Leo have changed since the last time I saw them. They used to be surly teenagers, but now they’re all grown up. They’re identical twins with bulky bodies, handsome as hell and determined to dethrone me. They treat me in a patronizing way that gets on my nerves, since we’re practically the same age. I don’t know how many times I’ve been told I don’t deserve to be heir today, and how stupid my father was to not come directly to them.

I’m sure my father had his reasons for keeping the two boys out of this world. In fact, I remember him telling me on more than one occasion that my cousins were reckless and irresponsible, and given the way they’re acting today, I can’t help but agree.

I can’t take it anymore, and when no one is looking, I slip out of the room. My father’s funeral is tomorrow. The last thing I need is to watch the man I love fighting with my remaining family.

Carole rushes out after me and hugs me tightly. “I’m sorry, Miss Bianca,” she says sweetly. “I’ll do my best to keep things peaceful.”

“Good luck with that,” I sigh with a small smile. “I need to get away for a bit, Carole. Tell Matteo I’m safe – I’ll take a guard with me. Just make sure I have some space to breathe. We’ll sort everything once I get back, okay?”

She nods, always understanding. I kiss her on the cheek before heading for the car, my guard in tow. “Where to, Miss Bianca?” he asks me, taking his place behind the wheel.

“Take me to the cemetery, please,” I say. I haven’t visited my brother’s grave yet, and I’d like to put some flowers on my mother’s grave.

The drive passes quickly, and we stop by my favorite flower shop en route. I pick out a bouquet of white roses for my mother, her favorite. My guard drives to the small family cemetery, and follows me at a polite distance as I head for my mother’s grave. I am thankful for that.

I think about all the things that have changed in the past month or so. Matteo, finding love in the most unexpected place. Suffering at the hands of my kidnapper, Antonio. And now Cristiano, who is asleep, safe and sound in his brand new room in my house. I haven’t told my cousins about him just yet. That’s a story for another day, because I won’t let them take him away from me – and I’m fairly certain they’ll want to do just that.

I approach my mother’s grave, and my guard steps into the shadow of a tall oak tree, his eyes always on me. I appreciate his discretion, and I set down the flowers on her gravestone with tears in my eyes. It’s always difficult coming here, even after all this time.

“I see someone else knows what her favorite flowers were.”

I turn around sharply, half expecting my kidnapper to be standing behind me. But instead, it is only an older gentleman, one I’ve come to know over the past few weeks. “Hello, Sir Abbate,” I say with a small smile.

He approaches me, and I give my guard a sign letting him know it’s all right and that I’m safe. Abbate crosses his hands behind his back and I notice there is another single white rose on my mother’s grave. In fact, I can remember there always being one here. I always assumed it was from my father, but thinking back, he always gave my mother red roses, not white ones.

“Is that from you?” I ask softly, pointing at the rose. Abbate simply nods, and my heart softens a little for this man whom I know almost nothing about.

“Have you been bringing them all along?” I ask again, and he nods. “Thank you.” My hand finds his and he squeezes it gently.

“You look like her,” he says. I look up and see tears in the older man’s eyes. He looks tired now, and worn out. I wonder what happened between my mother, him and my father. It mustn’t have been pretty. Someday, I make a promise to myself, I’ll find out the story.

“Thank you,” I reply. On an afterthought, I add something else. “I love your son.”

“I know,” he says with a heavy voice. “He loves you, too. It was apparent to me ever since the first moment he laid eyes on you. And it’s going to bring a lot of trouble for all of us.”

“I think we’ll be okay.” I give him a brave smile. We’re still holding hands, and it feels…nice, albeit a little weird. He is my lover’s father, after all.

“We went to get the boy,” I add on impulse. “His name is Cristiano.”

Abbate looks at me, eyes wide. “Da Costa’s son?”

I nod, and he smiles slowly. “I should like to meet him someday,” he admits, giving me a hopeful look. I’m shocked time and time again by the soft spots harbored by this tough, rough and relentlessly evil ma. . “Would that be possible?”

“Yes,” I nod, already deciding I won’t keep Abbate out of Cristiano’s life. After all, the man played such a big part in finding my little brother, he doesn’t deserve to be kept out of the child’s life. “We’ll arrange it. You have my word– I promise.”

A silence falls upon us as we gaze at the gravestone, but it’s not uncomfortable. My heart is beating steadily now, and I’m happy I came here to get some peace of mind. It has been helpful.

“I heard about your cousins,” Abbate finally speaks up again. “Those two are going to give you trouble, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t understand why.” I don’t try to hide my anger. I’m pissed as hell that two teenage boys are trying to run my house instead of me. “They have no right to do that. I know how to take care of things myself, and I don’t need anyone telling me how to do things.”