Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance (9 page)

Salvatore came toward me. He took my hands and made me look at him. “I won’t take them away.”

“Promise it,” I said after a long moment.

“I promise.”

That was the second promise he’d made me.

Without another word, I led the way up to my bedroom, where Salvatore helped me pack up the things I wanted to keep, mostly books and old diaries I’d hidden. My bed stood where it had always been, just beneath one of the two windows. My father used to ask me how I could sleep there in the summer months—didn’t the light wake me up too early?—but I loved it. I looked out onto the backyard, where he’d put up a second swing like the one in the front yard.

I sat down while Salvatore taped up the last box. It was when I picked up the pillow that I found it. A letter addressed to me, the envelope sealed, the handwriting familiar.

My father’s.

I picked it up and stared at it in. My father’s suicide note had been brief. He’d said he was sorry. He’d said he’d failed everyone he loved.

I ran the pad of my finger over the blue ink before sliding my finger beneath the flap and tearing it. The sound stood out, almost as if it blocked out every other sound, every other person or thing. My heart pounded, and my hand trembled as I pulled out the folded sheet of paper.

A hand on my shoulder startled me, and I glanced up.

“You okay?”

It was Salvatore. I quickly crumpled the letter and threw it into the trash can, then wiped my face with the backs of my hands.

“I want to go.” I said, looking around for something, what I had no idea. “I need… I can’t.”

“Shh.”

He wrapped an arm around me and, without another word, pulled me into his chest and held me there, one hand rubbing my back, the other holding tight.

“Shh,” he said again.

I choked on a sob and pressed my face into him, for one moment letting his strength support me, lift the weight of all of this from me. But when in response to my surrender he hugged me back, I shook my head and wiped my face before breaking away from him. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t take comfort from him. He was the enemy. And I was betraying my family with every tender moment I shared with him.

I couldn’t do this.

“Please…” I started.

With a nod, he ushered me out to the car. “Stay here.”

Salvatore went back into the house and a few moments later returned, loaded the two boxes I’d packed into the trunk, and climbed behind the steering wheel. He glanced at me, the look in his eyes strange, cautious, measuring. Then, without a word, he turned the key and started the engine, taking us back to his house, back to my new home.

I
knew
it wasn’t right, but I did what any man would do in my situation. I fished out the letter Lucia had thrown into the trash and read it.

If I hadn’t been sure before, I was now. The fucking bastard of a father was too weak to stay alive. Too weak to take responsibility even in this, his final letter to the daughter he betrayed. Did he even know what his letter would do to her? Did he know it would only add to the guilt she already felt with his loss?

Fucking bastard.

I paced my study, phone to my ear, when, finally, Roman picked up on the fifth ring. “I need you to do something for me, Uncle.” I rarely called Roman that. Only when I needed to trust him absolutely. “Just for me.”

“What is it?” he asked. He was too smart to agree to something without knowing the details.

“I know we have Luke DeMarco under surveillance, but I want more. I want to know where he spends his nights. I want to know exactly how much time he spends with Isabella DeMarco. And,” was I really going to do this? “I want a paternity test run on the little girl, Effie. I want to know if he’s her father.”

“We share the same suspicions.”

“And my father? What does he think?”

“He doesn’t think she’s a threat, so he hasn’t looked into it.”

“Isabella?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Never underestimate your enemy, Salvatore. It will get you killed.”

“No one knows that better than me, Uncle.”

“I’ll keep this between us for now.”

“For now. I will go to my father once I have solid information.”

“I’ll work on it right away.”

“Thank you.”

I hung up the phone, that last part a lie. If my suspicions were correct, I couldn’t go to my father with the details. My father did not need any more ammunition against Luke DeMarco, and something about what Lucia had said, asking me not to take them away, I felt it.

Luke was collecting supporters, that I knew, but was Lucia’s sister involved? If so, how deeply? Just how close were she and Luke? And what would I need to do if I what I believed was confirmed?

On top of everything else, I needed to gain Lucia’s trust. I needed to be sure she’d do as I said and not act out during the birthday dinner. I needed to make sure my father knew I had control of her.

* * *

T
he next afternoon
, I pulled into Nordstrom’s parking lot.

“I don’t want to go to your father’s party.”

We climbed out of the car and went into the department store. She sounded defiant, but I heard the panic behind her words.

“I’m not going.”

I touched her back to lead her inside. “Yes, you are. And you’re going to behave while you’re there.”

“Why? Why can’t you just go on your own?”

“Because he’s expecting both of us.” We stepped onto the escalator, Marco and another man following nearby. A piano played on the second floor. Before we reached it, I saw the salesgirl waiting for us.

“Why?” Lucia asked again.

Once off the escalator, I took her arms, rubbed them, and turned her toward me. There would be no discussion. She would go. Period. Even if it was the last place I wanted to take Lucia, we would both go. “Because I said so. Now be good.” I leaned in, and to anyone who watched, it looked like I was planting a kiss on her temple, but instead, I whispered in her ear. “Or else I’ll have to get creative again.”

Her eyes searched mine when I pulled back, questioning, perhaps trying to gauge how far I’d go. Honestly, I didn’t mind if she did push me.

“Mr. Benedetti,” the salesgirl said, her high heels clicking toward us.

I turned to her. She couldn’t be more than twenty.

“I’m Carla, and I’ll help your…” She searched our ring fingers and modified, “I understand you’re looking for an evening dress.”

I chuckled and kept one hand at Lucia’s back. “For Lucia. I’d look rather silly in an evening dress.”

The girl laughed nervously and looked Lucia over. “Size four?”

Lucia nodded.

“Any preference as to length or cut?” We followed her as she led the way to the designer dresses.

My phone rang. When I saw Natalie’s name displayed on the screen, I excused myself. Lucia raised her eyebrows but didn’t question. Marco followed me, and the other guard kept close to Lucia.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Salvatore. It’s Natalie. Is this a good time?”

“Yes, of course. Is everything all right?” She sounded tense.

“Dominic came by. He was here when I got home from work.”

Natalie didn’t trust Dominic. She had never liked him, and I’d seen Sergio have words with him. I never knew the details but suspected it had something to do with Natalie.

“What did he want?”

“He said he wanted to see his nephew. See how he’s doing, since I won’t take him to the house for visits.”

Why in hell did Dominic care about a baby? He never had before.

“Salvatore?”

“I’m listening. How long was he there?”

“Just ten minutes. I wouldn’t let him in. Talked to him on the front steps. What does he want, Salvatore?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll see him at my father’s birthday dinner. I’ll talk to him then. Do you feel safe? Do you want me to send someone over?”

“No, it’s okay. I just…seeing him again…it brought back so much.”

“I know.” I heard her sniffle. “I’m sorry, Natalie.” I heard Jacob fuss near the phone.

“It’s okay, it’ll be fine. He just surprised me. I’d better go get Jacob’s dinner.”

“I can come by myself if you want me to.”

“You have your hands full. Really, I’ll be fine. I feel better already, now that I’ve talked to you. It’s fine.”

“Let me at least send someone to keep an eye on the house.”

“No. I don’t want that for myself, and I don’t want it for Jacob. We’re out of this life. It’s what Sergio would have wanted for us.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see. The salesgirl came around the corner, looking frazzled until she spotted me. I turned my back to wrap up my call.

“Okay, but if you feel unsafe or need anything, you call me, understand?”

“Yes. I will, Salvatore. Thank you.”

We hung up, and I walked toward the girl, my mind going a thousand miles a minute, wondering what the hell Dominic was up to.

“She’s ready with the first one.” The girl sang out and pointed to the dressing room.

I followed her. It was a private room with a sofa and a long mirror with a curtain to separate the changing area. Once inside, the girl closed the door and disappeared behind the curtain.

“It’s too low,” Lucia complained.

“It looks amazing,” the girl retorted.

A moment later, she pulled the curtain aside, and my eyes about popped out of my head. There stood Lucia, her expression annoyed, her long dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, a cream-colored dress wrapped around her petite frame. The material fell heavy to her feet, which I could see were wrapped in silver-and-gold, high-heeled sandals. They added three inches to her height. The dress was cut low so that the V dipped all the way down to the high belt around her waist. Gemstones circled her waistline and edged the V between her breasts, clinging to her, displaying their small, round mounds beautifully.

“I think the hair should go up,” the girl said, piling Lucia’s hair on top of her head and forcing her farther out so that she stood before the mirror, her back to me. “To display this gorgeous back.” The V of the neckline repeated on the back. “We’ll need to alter it slightly here,” she pointed out the pins at Lucia’s shoulders. “But it’ll be ready by tomorrow.”

“You look beautiful,” I said to Lucia.

Lucia’s eyes found mine in the mirror. She looked at herself once more as if not quite believing it was her. I wondered if this was her first time in a dress like this.

“It’s too…” she started, looking down at the V between her breasts.

“It’s perfect.” I stood and went to her, standing close behind her. Our eyes locked in the mirror. I took the clip out of her hair and let the mass tumble down her back. Lucia bit her lip and shuddered.

“Find us something more casual for tonight,” I said to the girl without taking my eyes off Lucia. “Take your time.”

“Yes, sir.” The girl walked out, closing the door behind her.

I turned Lucia to face me. “I want you.”

Her hands came up to my chest, and I brushed her hair off her shoulders. The light overhead flickered on and off, then settled for on. Without another word, I leaned in to kiss her. I loved kissing her. I’d seen her naked. I’d tasted her pussy, but this was our most intimate act yet, and I took my time, tasting her, her mouth soft, her tongue shy at first, submissive to mine, then bolder, curious in its exploration as the kiss deepened, drawing a moan from deep inside my chest.

A quick knock and the door opened. Lucia gasped, but the girl remained oblivious. She carried in an armful of dresses and spoke without giving us a glance as she hung them all up.

“And, what do you think?”

I looked Lucia over again, my gaze hovering on the exposed mounds of her breasts, my cock pressing against the crotch of my jeans.

“We’ll take this one.” My voice came out hoarse, and I cleared my throat. “You’ll be able to deliver it altered tomorrow?”

“Yes, sir.”

The girl beamed, and when I checked the price tag, I understood why. She’d probably made more tonight on commission than a month on the floor.

“Let’s get that one off and try another,” she said, ushering Lucia behind the curtain.

“Out here. I want to see.”

She stopped, confused, tilting her head to one side, but then glanced at Lucia who only stared back at me, her swollen lips slightly parted, her eyes a darker burnt caramel as opposed to their usual whiskey-brown.

“Here,” I said, pointing to a spot before the mirror, where I could see her front and back.

“Yes, sir.” The girl moved Lucia, who only watched me.

I leaned back in my seat as the salesgirl unhooked the belt and slowly slid the dress off Lucia, leaving her standing in panties, a pair of boyshorts like the ones she’d packed to Italy. That seemed so long ago now.

I abandoned looking at Lucia’s eyes as I studied her nearly naked body, each time seeming like the first. Narrow shoulders; small, high, round breasts with nipples that tightened beneath my gaze; a flat belly; and long, slender, muscular legs. She was beautiful. Perfect. And my cock twitched in appreciation.

I had her, she was mine. But I wanted her to want it. To want me.

I swallowed as she raised her arms for the girl to slide a short black dress over her head. This one hung loose to the low waist and had long sleeves with slits all the way through.

“Best part,” the girl said, turning Lucia so she had her back to me. The back was cut out to the hips, accenting the silhouette of her figure seductively.

I nodded. “I want to see that one.” I pointed to another, and the girl quietly obeyed, undressing Lucia and dressing her again. Turning her this way and that, all while my cock grew harder, Lucia’s submission turning me on as much as having her naked did.

Once she’d gone through the rest of the dresses, the girl left us.

“What are we doing?” Lucia asked as she stood before me in just her panties and those sandals, her hands over her breasts, the spell broken.

“We’re shopping. Don’t cover your breasts.”

For a moment, she resisted, her eyes questioning. But then, she obeyed and dropped her arms to her sides.

“Turn around.”

She did, presenting me with her ass still clad in lace. I stood. She glanced over her shoulder but then faced the wall again.

“Hands up on the wall.” I stood close enough to make sure she felt my breath on her shoulder, the heat of my body pulsing against hers. Leaning down, I inhaled the clean scent of her hair, watched her nipples harden and goose bumps rise along the flesh of her arms. “I like looking at you, Lucia.” I pressed my erection against her hip. “You don’t know how badly I want you.”

She swallowed as I ran the knuckles of one hand along her hip, then slid two fingers along the edge of her panties. “I like these.” With both hands now, I traced the outline of lace on the soft swell of her ass. I then dragged them upward, exposing more of her cheeks as I set the material in the split between them, then tugged upward.

Lucia gasped.

“I like your ass.” I wrapped one hand around to pinch her nipple. “I like your breasts.” I slid it down over her belly and into her panties to cup the wet mound of her sex. “And I like your pussy.” I rubbed her clit as she leaned against me, softening, a small moan escaping her lips. Wrapping my free hand around her neck, I drew her against me, still playing with the slick folds of her sex as I ground my cock against her back. “I want to bury my cock inside your pussy, Lucia. I want to bend you over here and fuck you so hard, everyone in this damn place knows it. Knows you’re getting fucked. Knows you’re mine.”

She stiffened at my words, resisting, but her body jerked as she neared orgasm.

“Stop.” Her voice was weak. A half-hearted plea.

“Give it to me.”

“I…”

I pinched her clit, and she fisted her hands, leaning her forehead into the wall.