Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance (6 page)

I
left
.

I walked out of the house and to the six-car garage, a building separate from the main house. Taking the keys from the locked box by the door, I chose the Bugatti and climbed inside. I turned the key, the engine crisp and sharp in the early morning quiet. The gates opened, and the tires squealed as I left the property and drove onto the lonely single-lane road. I opened it up then, enjoying the rush as my body pressed back into the seat, the car’s powerful engine roaring, taking the turns tightly, my foot pressing harder and harder on the accelerator.

Who the fuck was I? What in hell had I just done, humiliating Lucia like that? Hurting her. Christ. Fuck.

I was a monster.

I inhaled and exhaled short, audible breaths, my stomach tight, the muscles of my arms clenched as I fisted the steering wheel hard.

She got under my skin. This barely twenty-one-year-old woman whom
I fucking owned
got under my fucking skin every single fucking time. I needed to control her for so many reasons. But I couldn’t do it this way. Fuck. I’d scared the piss out of her, literally. Her eyes—they hadn’t accused me. No. They’d been terrified of me.

“Fuck!” I punched the side of my fist against the steering wheel.

A car turned a blind corner, surprising me, his horn honking, waking me from wherever the fuck I was. I jerked the steering wheel, and the Bugatti swerved onto the side of the road, missing the car by inches.

“Shit!”

The man in the other vehicle flipped me off.

“Fuck you!” Not that he heard me. My windows were up. My cell phone vibrated in my pocket as I slowed to a full stop. The display on the Bluetooth said it was Roman. I got out, rubbed my face with both hands, and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. The phone stopped, then started again. I dug into my pocket and fished it out.

“Roman,” I said after sliding the Talk button. I walked a few steps away to look over the deserted road, the dewy grass sparkling in the sun, the morning quiet apart from the birds chirping in the trees.

“Morning, Salvatore.”

“You’re calling early.”

“I wanted to talk to you. I tried to call last night but couldn’t catch you.”

“What is it, Roman?” Was this about the meeting? Luke DeMarco?

“Your father wants to be sure you’ll be attending his birthday dinner.”

“You’re calling me about that?” It was at the end of the following week, and of course I’d be there. There was no way for me not to be. Unless I wanted to give Dominic ammunition.

“He wanted to invite you and Lucia to spend the night.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’ll drive home.”

“He insists.”

I took a deep breath. The party was going to be held at the house in the Adirondacks, but I’d have driven four hours each way rather than spend more time in that house with him.

“Of course,” I said, understanding.

“Listen, there’s one more thing.”

I waited.

“Your brother.”

He paused, and I could hear him measuring his words.

“I just thought you should know he met with your father late last night.”

My father had gone back to the house in Calabria after I’d left for New Jersey. “So?” I asked, not surprised. He’d been pissed to have been left out of our meeting.

“He’s stirring the pot, Salvatore.”

“What’s new with that?” I’d known my uncle all my life. He was an intelligent man. He was also a businessman. He knew what would happen if Dominic, rather than I, took over the family. And he somehow had a calming effect on my father. Sergio had trusted him. And I trusted Sergio.

“Nothing is new, but now that you’re…distracted…with your houseguest, he’s suggesting he take care of the DeMarco problem.”

“Take care of it how?”

“Take out Luke DeMarco. Make an example.”

I shook my head, although Roman couldn’t see. “Fucking typical. This is my problem to deal with. Not his.”

“He’s got your father’s ear.”

“That’s not news.”

“It’s different this time, Salvatore,” he said heavily.

“When are they flying home?”

“Late afternoon. I’m flying with them.”

Silence again, but I could tell he had something to say.

“Franco won’t give the word just yet, but you need to know what’s going on.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

I hung up and pocketed my phone. I didn’t want to deal with Dominic’s jealous aggressions right now. I had other things on my mind. I needed to get back. Talk to her. Explain that I wasn’t a fucking monster.

She’d said she had no friends and refused to see her family. Well, we had more in common than she knew. She’d learned to hate my family over the last five years. Learned to hate everyone, maybe. I just, stupidly enough, didn’t want her to hate me.

I got back into the car, started the engine, and drove an hour to the cemetery. I came here more often than I probably should. Parking close to the family plot, I got out. The heat and humidity seemed to want to suffocate me after the air-conditioned drive. I stopped and picked up a dozen white Calla lilies from the flower store a block away, my mom’s favorite, and headed up the small hill. The ground beneath my feet felt soft here, damp and covered in moss. A small gate surrounded the plot of land housing many of the Benedetti family. I walked my usual path, reading off the names of the dead in my head, noting the number of years each had lived. Too many damn lives cut short.

But this was what we did. We killed. We died. And for what?

I reached the spot where my mother’s and brother’s headstones stood side by side. I tossed the dying flowers, the ones I’d brought the last time I’d come, and replaced them with fresh ones. I pulled out some weeds and scraped dirt off the inscriptions on both their tombstones, noting the year of birth and death on Sergio’s grave. He’d been a year older than I was now. Married. His wife pregnant when he died. It wasn’t fucking fair.

When it had happened, I’d been broken. He was my one ally, my friend. He’d known how to become boss. Our father loved him and yet, Sergio wasn’t like him. Not at all. He’d been gunned down at a gas station. A stupid, cowardly drive-by. He’d deserved a better death than that. And he’d deserved a life first.

My father had retaliated, but something didn’t sit right with me. In fact, the whole thing stank. They’d blamed a smaller family from Philadelphia, one that was supposed to have been loyal to us. Somehow, evidence had turned up incriminating them. But it didn’t make sense, not then, not now. My father had been crazed, though. He’d loved Sergio, and he’d simply reacted, killed off the boss’s sons. Effectively ending the family.

I was supposed to have been with Sergio at the meeting he was coming home from, but I’d been sick. In a way, it felt like I’d cheated death, but then, if I had been there, maybe Sergio wouldn’t have died. Maybe things would have gone differently.

I never said much when I came to the cemetery and never stayed long. Just showed up. Wanted them to know I hadn’t forgotten them. I got back in the car and headed toward Natalie’s house. Natalie was Sergio’s wife. Apart from her friendship with me, she’d cut off ties with the family after his and my mother’s deaths. She hated my father and brother. She hated the life. But she had loved my brother, knowing the cost of that love.

My father hadn’t really allowed her to walk away, though. Not with her bringing his first grandchild into the world. Jacob Sergio Benedetti was born six months after Sergio’s murder. Natalie had purposely not given him an Italian first name, which had pissed off my father. Jacob was one and a half years old now. I knew she worried about what demands my father would put on her as Jacob grew older, but she kept those mostly to herself. My father supported them financially. As much as I knew Natalie hated it, she needed the money. And as long as she took it, Franco gave her the space she wanted. I guess he figured he owned her anyway.

I dialed Natalie’s number on my cell phone. She answered after the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Natalie, it’s me, Salvatore.”

“Hey, Salvatore. How are you?”

“Okay.” Not really. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Just playing with Jacob.”

“Can I drop by?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, then added, “you know.” Natalie was the one person who knew me for who I really was. I trusted Marco, my bodyguard, but he didn’t know this side of me. I didn’t trust anyone enough to share this vulnerability. Too many people ready and waiting for weakness.

“Come on over.”

“Thanks. See you in twenty minutes.”

I drove to her house, a two-story brick home about forty-five minutes from mine. Her parents lived nearby, and she’d moved here specifically to be close to them. When I rang the doorbell, Natalie answered with Jacob perched on her hip. He still wore his pajamas and held the stuffed animal I’d given him on his first birthday. He gave me a huge gummy smile. He only had three teeth, although I could see the fourth one was working its way in.

“Wow, haven’t you grown.” I took Jacob from Natalie’s arms. He wrapped his arms around my neck and planted a wet kiss on my face.

“Nice,” Natalie said. “You look…not so good.”

She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek after wiping off the mark Jacob had left.

“Come in.”

I put Jacob down on the floor among his toys, which seemed to be everywhere.

“Espresso?”

“Please.” I took a seat on the couch and watched Jacob play while Natalie made espresso and then joined me in the living room.

“How was the funeral?”

“Shitty.” I took a sip of the espresso she handed me, dark and rich and bitter as hell, just the way I liked it. “He’s got Sergio’s eyes,” I said, taking the toy Jacob held out to me.

Natalie stroked the little boy’s hair. “And his stubborn streak.”

“I don’t know. I think you may both be responsible for that one.”

She smiled. “You could be right on that. What’s up, Salvatore?”

“Lucia’s home with me.”

Natalie nodded, knowing the situation. “How’s that going?”

“Well, she’s been there less than twenty-four hours, and I think I’ve fucked it up pretty well.” I drank the last sip of espresso.

“Want to talk about it?”

What could I tell her? What could I tell her that wouldn’t make me sound like a monster? Like my father. Hell, he would have been proud of me this morning.

“She hates me, as expected. She is battling me at every turn. Stubborn as hell.”

“She’s only been with you since the funeral?”

I nodded.

“Then you must really be pissing her off.” She winked. “Just give her some space. It’s a huge change for her, and her father just died. Suicide, right?”

“Looked that way.”

“You don’t believe it?”

“I don’t believe anything unless I see it with my own two eyes.”

She studied me but dropped it. “What’s she like?”

“Pretty. Young. Scared. She spit on my father at the funeral. Or tried to but missed.” I chuckled.

“Tough too, then. I like her already.”

“And full of hate for us. Rightfully so. I guess that’s where I’m torn. She can’t get out of this. Neither of us can.” I paused. “Until death do us part.”

“That’s not too creepy.” Natalie looked away for a moment.

“That’s the wording in the contract. Like a marriage contract, but different. And if I die before her, Dominic inherits her. Like she’s a fucking thing. My father has a sick sense of humor, as you know.”

Her lip curled at the mention of his name. “Do you want to get out of it?”

Her question startled me. I answered without hesitation. “No.”

“You like her.”

I studied Natalie and felt the need to correct what she said. Whether that correction was for my benefit or hers, I wasn’t sure. “I feel some obligation to her.”

She snorted.

“Besides, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t get out of it. And she certainly couldn’t. I don’t want her to hate me.”

“Give her some space and some time, Salvatore,” Natalie said, touching my hand. “She just needs to really see you, like I do. She only sees the Benedetti name right now. The Benedetti family, the one that destroyed hers.”

She was right.

“Maybe you could…”

Natalie shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I can’t be a part of that anymore.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“I understand. It’s okay. I just think she needs some friends or something.”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

I touched her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

An awkward silence hung between us.

“Do you need anything?” I finally asked.

She shook her head. “No, we’re fine. We’re good.”

“You’ll call me if you do, right?”

“I promise.”

“I miss Sergio.” My eyes felt hot.

“Me too.” Natalie wiped hers before leaning against my chest. I hugged her, rubbing her back.

“Hey, I’m going to take Jacob to the beach a little later. Why don’t you come with us?”

I nodded, not really having to think about it. I didn’t want to go home. I’d bury my head in the sand for a little bit longer. “I’d like that.”

“Good.”

Jacob stood then, holding out two of the farm animals he was playing with. Both were a little wet from drool, but I took them. He stood leaning against my legs, babbling.

“That so?” I asked, not really understanding a word he said.

Natalie chuckled and stood. “More coffee?”

“Sure.”

“Hey, Jacob, Uncle Salvatore’s going to come with us to the beach. What do you think of that, honey?

Jacob leaned his face into my leg and smiled, still “talking.” I made out the word beach then something sounding like uncle in there before he gave me a cuddle. I cuddled him back.

I’d spend the day here. It would be good for me. And I’d think about what Natalie said about giving Lucia time and space. I could do that. It would help me get my thoughts figured out.

I
was a prisoner here
.

I spent the day in my bedroom. I slept a little, then read and slept some more. Rainey brought me a tray at lunchtime when I told her I wasn’t feeling well, and then another at dinnertime. I didn’t ask where Salvatore was or what he was doing. Didn’t know if he’d just come barging in here and demand things from me. Punish me. Humiliate me. But he never did. When Rainey came to clear my dinner tray, I finally got up the nerve to ask.

“Is Salvatore home?”

“No, ma’am. He called a little while ago to say he wouldn’t be home tonight.”

So was he spending the night somewhere else? Where? With whom? And why did I care? At least he wouldn’t hurt me, not if he wasn’t here.

But Salvatore didn’t come home the next night either. Unable to hide in my room any longer, I finally left it late the following morning and gave myself a tour of the house, looking around in the corners, behind plants, for cameras. I wouldn’t be surprised to find them. He’d said I had free rein of the house apart from his study and bedroom. Of course, the first thing I did was try his study door but found it locked. The bedroom, too, was locked, but when I saw the maid slip out of the room, I tried the door. She’d forgotten to lock it behind her.

I looked around to make sure no one was watching and slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind me. I spent a long moment with my back against it, trying to calm my breathing, knowing if he found out I was in here, that I’d disobeyed, he’d punish me. And yet I felt like a triumphant, defiant kid who’d taken the piece of candy she wasn’t allowed to have.

I pushed away from the door and looked around. The room was about twice as large as mine, and the furnishings were all dark wood or metal, the carpet and drapes shades of blue to match his eyes in all his moods. Leather panels covered the whole of the wall behind the four steel frames of the bed, which was perfectly made, all corners tucked neatly in, since he’d not slept here for two nights now.

The connecting door to my room had a key in the lock. Figured it’d be on his side. Another door led to a bathroom similar to mine, just larger, this one containing black towels and bath accessories, nothing feminine about the space.

The final door opened to a closet. I stepped into it, chuckling at the inch of space between each of the black velvet hangers that contained suits, jackets, and pants on one side, dress shirts sorted by color along another wall, and more casual wear, again, grouped by color and perfectly spaced along the final one. Three dozen pairs of shoes filled the neat little show racks, and two shelves contained belts. Ties were rolled on their own cushions, the color coding continuing even there. The drawers held underwear and socks. Everyday items. Things I for some reason could not associate with the man who owned the house.

I ran a hand over the suits, then dragged them a little, messing up the OCD spacing, thinking it funny for a moment. But then I found myself inhaling deeply. I shook my head and walked back into the bedroom.

It smelled like him in here.

I tentatively touched one of the cool steel posts of the bed as I thought about what I was doing, not feeling quite good about it. I perched myself on the edge of the bed and told myself I needed to do this. To break his rules and invade his privacy like he had mine. To take back some of the power he’d taken from me when he’d made me do what he did.

The surface of the nightstand had just been dusted. I ran a finger over it before opening the drawer and peeking inside. It was empty.

I walked to the other side of the bed. The book lying beside the lamp told me this was the side he slept on. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the drawer open less cautiously this time. This one wasn’t empty. I reached in and took out a bottle of what I thought was hand cream, but when I read the label, I quickly set it back down. It was a half-empty container of lubricant. Digging deeper, I found a row of condoms and behind that, a set of handcuffs.

Voices outside the door had me quickly shoving the things back inside the drawer, and when the door opened, I dropped to the floor and slid underneath the bed.

The women spoke, and I saw the one come inside to pick up the bucket she’d left in the bathroom before walking back out the door. This time, she didn’t forget to lock it behind her.

“Shit!”

I made my way out from under the bed. That was when I saw the leather restraint that hung off the post. Curious, I sat up and pulled it out from behind the cover. I then walked over to the post at the foot and found a similar one, and two more on the other posts.

I grinned. This was a side of Salvatore I hadn’t considered, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. I had a bigger problem. I had to get out of his bedroom.

* * *

I
t took
me thirty-five minutes to finally pick the lock and get into my own bedroom. Feeling like some sort of thief, I picked up my cell phone, which I’d been charging since it had run down completely. It showed six missed calls. All from Isabella. No texts, but voice mails after each one.

“
Hey, Luce. Call me when you get this.
”

“
Checking in, Luce. You there?
”

“
Um, I’m feeling like a stalker. You can’t still be mad at me. Hell, you can be whatever you want. Shit, I’d be pissed. Okay, please don’t be mad at me.
”

“
Fuck.
” Effie’s voice in the background, then my sister again. “
No, honey, mommy didn’t say a bad word.
”

I smiled.

“
Lucia, if you don’t call me back right now, I’m getting in my car and driving over there!
”

“
Fuck. I’m on my way!
”

I checked the time of the messages. The last one was from about an hour and a half ago. Which meant she’d be here any minute.

I pocketed the phone and ran out the door. On my way down the stairs, I heard a voice I recognized as Marco’s. I paused on the stairs, listening.

“She’s got a visitor.”

He must have been talking into a phone because I didn’t hear another voice. He mumbled, “Okay, boss,” and hung up.

When I heard his footsteps, I headed down the stairs, noting the room he’d come from. He looked up at me.

“Good afternoon.”

Marco was always around, but at least he stayed out of my way. “Afternoon.”

I heard a car door close and turned toward the front door. From the side window, I spotted my sister taking in the mansion before opening the back door to help Effie out.

“Your sister’s here,” Marco said, reaching the front door ahead of me.

“I can see that.”

“Mr. Benedetti has given his permission for you to see her.” He opened the door, but his comment made me stop and turn to him.

“Really? He’s given his permission?” Asshole.

Marco faced me and was about to say something, but Isabella spoke first.

“Well, it is remote and it is protected,” she said. “I wasn’t sure they were going to open the gates for a minute there.” She came right to me, looked me over from head to toe, and pulled me in for a hug.

I yielded right away, her warmth something I’d missed, something I cherished. It made me feel protected.

“Izzy.” I used the name I used to call her when I was little and couldn’t say her full name. It had stuck. I was the only person who called her that.

She pulled back and looked at me. I wiped at my eyes but apparently not quickly enough because I saw the concern in hers. She glanced at Marco, who stood stupidly watching us.

I hated him.

“Mommy.” Effie tugged on her mom’s skirt. “The gift.”

Her high-pitched voice made me smile. She held up a box. I could see from the torn wrapping that it contained chocolates.

“Why don’t you give it to Aunt Lucia, and explain why the wrapping’s been torn.”

Effie turned to me and offered up the box. “I started to open it for you to help you.”

“Is that really why?” Izzy asked.

I gave Izzy a look. So did Effie.

I bent down to take the box from her, trying to keep a straight face. “Is this what I think it is? My favorite chocolates?” I asked, picking up an end of the wrapping and peeking inside the torn paper. “Maybe you can help me get the rest of the wrapping off.” She happily took the box and tore off the gift wrap.

“Yep. They’re my favorite too.” She reluctantly held the box out to me.

“You hold on to it. We should probably eat some, though. What do you think?”

“I definitely think we should eat some!”

I straightened and looked around, noticing how Marco hovered. “Let’s go into the living room.”

With a hand on the top of Effie’s head, I followed him to the spacious room adjoining the dining room. The sun shone bright, and the swimming pool glistened blue just beyond the large patio.

“God, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Izzy asked.

“It is.”

“Did you bring my swimsuit, Mommy?” Effie asked, her attention focused on the pool.

I looked at my sister, who rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t know they had a pool, so no.”

Effie gave her a look, which made me cover my mouth to hide the chuckle.

“How would I know? It’s my first time here,” Izzy protested.

“How about something to drink,” I asked just as Rainey walked in. She smiled warmly, and I introduced everyone.

“What would you like? I have some homemade lemonade maybe for the little one?”

“Actually, for me too,” Izzy said.

“Homemade?”

Izzy nodded.

“Make it three then, please,” I said. Rainey had been my only point of contact over the last couple of days. My world had always been small, but now, it had become miniscule.

Rainey nodded and returned to the kitchen. Marco remained in the room with us. Izzy and I both eyed him while Effie worked on getting the plastic off the box of chocolates.

“Are you just going to stand there?” I asked him.

He looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“I want to have a visit with my sister. Surely you don’t have to monitor every word I say. I promise, it won’t be that interesting.”

Before he could answer, footsteps echoed on the marble floors. We all turned as Salvatore entered the room. He wore a T-shirt and jeans, the V-neck clinging to his sculpted body. His cobalt-blue eyes locked on mine, and my heartbeat quickened, my body suddenly tingling, nipples tightening, every hair standing on end.

A moment later, he released me from his gaze, his posture relaxing as he nodded to my sister and smiled at Effie struggling with the plastic.

“Thanks, Marco. You can go,” he said.

Marco nodded and left the room. Salvatore walked over to Izzy.

“I don’t think I’ve met Lucia’s sister officially. I’m Salvatore Benedetti.”

She took his hand. “Isabella DeMarco.”

“Good to meet you. And this is?”

Effie looked up. “Got it!” She held up the plastic triumphantly, then checked out Salvatore. “I’m Effie,” she said, rising to her feet from the floor and holding out her hand.

Salvatore took it. “Nice to meet you, Effie.”

Rainey walked in with a tray and set the glasses of lemonade down on the coffee table. We stood awkwardly.

“I’ll let you and your sister have some privacy,” Salvatore finally said, his tone casual, his gaze wavering. “I’m going to take a shower.”

He waited. My body still did that vibrating, tingling thing as the air crackled between us.

“Thank you,” I finally said.

He nodded and left the room. We watched him go. Only when he was out of the room did either of us breathe. My thoughts wandered to what I’d found in his room. I wondered if he’d think he’d forgotten to lock the door between our bedrooms, or if he’d know I’d broken in.

“Wow. He’s intense.”

I exhaled. “Yeah.” I couldn’t tell Izzy about what he’d done. What I’d done. Hell, I wasn’t sure myself what it all meant or how I felt about it.

“Effie, it’s polite to offer chocolates to others first before you dig in.”

My sister tried to sound strict, but I saw the proud smile she worked to hide.

Effie turned her big, pale blue eyes to her mom, her mouth working on a second piece of chocolate. She rose to her feet and walked over to us.

“Would you like a chocolate?” she asked, turning to me first.

“I’d love one.” I chose a dark chocolate and thanked her. Izzy declined, and Effie shrugged a shoulder and helped herself to a third.

“How are you doing? You didn’t answer any of my messages. I thought he wasn’t letting you use the phone!”

I shook my head with a weak smile. “No, it was just drained. I only checked the messages a few minutes before you got here, actually.”

“Well, you’re going to have to answer next time. I got worried.”

I nodded.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t want to cry.” As I said it, the first tears wet my lashes.

“Shh.” Izzy dug for a tissue in her bag.

Rainey walked out of the kitchen and toward us just then. I turned my face away.

“I’m getting ready to bake cookies in the kitchen. Maybe Effie would like to help?” she asked Izzy.