Shane: A Mafia Love Story: Dark Erotic Romance (2 page)

“You’re aware of your father’s…profession?”

Mia sighed deeply. “I know he’s the
Avtoritet
under the
Pakhan
of the Varnakov
bratva
, which makes him about number-three in their hierarchy, but I don’t know specifics. If you’ve brought me here to gain some kind of advantage, or obtain information, you’re out of luck. I want nothing to do with him or the
russkaya mafiya
.”

“Hmm.” Shane gestured to a wet bar. “Drink?”

She shook her head. As the silence lengthened, she asked, “What is your profession, Mr. O’Mara?”

“Shane will do.” He made her wait as he walked to the wet bar to pour a glass of something amber. “Your father and I are in the same line of work, but for different companies, I guess you could say.”

She didn’t bother to hide her disdain. “You’re a violent thug too?”

He took a sip of his drink, seeming unbothered by her appraisal. “I wouldn’t call myself a thug, honey. That denotes a different lifestyle from mine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you really think you’re any different from the typical gun-toting, drug-selling pimp in the gutter?”

His lips tightened. “I have something most of them would kill for.”

“What?” When would this posturing end, so she could go home? Her cat needed to be fed, and she was losing the precious opportunity to have the apartment all to herself.

“Power. I can have anything I want.”

“Good for you.” She gritted her teeth. “Now, tell me why the hell I’m here.”

He finished his drink, but didn’t pour another one as he returned to his perch against the desk, though nearer to her this time. “That requires a bit of background explanation. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit?”

She shook her head, aware of strands of dark hair spilling from her knot and falling around her shoulders in an irritating fashion. “Just get this over with so I can go home.”

“Indeed.” His expression sharpened. “What do you know of the mafia, Mia?”

“As little as possible.” When she had first realized exactly what her father did, Mia had made a deliberate choice to avoid it at all costs. Her stepmother had helped shield her the best she could, and she had remained mostly ignorant toward the evil her father committed.

“There are varying groups who oversee criminal activity in our fair city, but the three most powerful are the Irish, Italians, and Russians.” He lifted a brow. “The Russians were a bit late to the party, but they’ve debuted with a splash.”

She shrugged. “Why should I care?”

He ignored the question. “As you can imagine, there was a great deal of violence as each group protected its territory and sought to expand. About ten years ago, things got particularly violent. Even the feds in our pockets couldn’t turn a blind eye, so the heads of each family decided a truce was in order.”

She shifted again, resisting the urge to sit down in the comfy-looking chair just a few feet to her left. Ten years ago was about the time her father had started dating her stepmother, and she wondered if it was a coincidence that a Russian
Avtoritet
had married the daughter of an Italian don.

“They each carved out their territories and divvied up various lucrative markets.”

She didn’t really want to know the answer, but felt compelled to ask, “What does my father oversee?”

“Drugs. Particularly heroin, which is making a comeback among yuppies.”

She shuddered, hating the idea of her father putting drugs onto the streets, especially since that same poison had stolen her mother’s life. “And your group?”

He smiled, and it was a chilling sight. “The Irish have always had a special affinity with weapons, honey. That’s our main business.”

She scowled. “You’re the one to thank for that thirteen-year-old who murdered the convenience store clerk last week?”

He blinked. “Not personally, but it’s possible he got the weapon from one of our distributors.” That fact didn’t seem to bother him.

“And the Italians?”

“Sex trade, forgery, money laundering…they’re a multitasking sort.” He smiled slightly, and she refused to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome that made him. “Our little experiment is working quite well. Other branches of our families are starting to emulate our model of cooperation.”

“Isn’t that terrific?” She glanced pointedly at her watch. “You still haven’t told me why I’m here.” If he thought she could be some kind of leverage with her father, he was mistaken. Vadim cared as little for her as she did for him.

“You can imagine how disastrous it would be if our truce fell apart. There is a lot of pressure from others higher up in our families to maintain this peace, so when something goes wrong, we have incentive to fix it.”

“I don’t care,” she bit out.

He shrugged. “We’ll see. Last month, a group of thugs stole a major shipment from your father. My people intercepted it before Varnakov found out Kasilli had a problem. Your father owes me a debt.”

She closed her eyes for a second. With a deep breath, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “My father owes you, so why am I here?”

“You’re the price he’s paid, my sweet.” He made no attempt to disguise the blaze of desire in his gaze. “And I’m going to get full value.”

Mia’s blood went cold at his words and expression, but she refused to betray her fear. “You’re out of your mind. Whatever he owes you, take it up with him.”

Shane stood up suddenly, making her very aware of how much taller he was, and the way he loomed over her. “Let me clarify something for you, Mia. I went to a great deal of trouble to make sure your father owed me.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because I want you, and I have since the first time I saw you at that restaurant. If it weren’t for your family connections, I would have just taken you.” He trailed the back of his fingers down her forearm.

Mia jerked away, glaring at him. “I want nothing to do with you.”

He acted like she hadn’t spoken. “With you being a daughter of one of my frenemies, I couldn’t just make you disappear. If it came back to me, there could be a resurgence of aggression. Instead, it had to be neat and tidy. I did your father a favor, and he was eager to settle it. No one wants to owe another something, especially in our line of work.”

“My father was insane for suggesting I would just settle his debt.” She crossed her arms. “Have one of your goons drive me home now.”

He shook his head. “You are going to be fun to tame, aren’t you?”

Mia’s stomach curled with dread, and something less tangible, when he grasped a strand of her hair to let it spill between his fingers. “You aren’t doing anything to me. I don’t care what crooked deal you have with my father.”

His eyes narrowed. “Make no mistake, Mia. I will go to war if I have to. I will destroy your family and burn down the city to have you.”

She shivered at the threat, but shrugged. “I don’t give a damn what you do to Vadim.”

“And your stepbrother?”

Mia couldn’t hide her distaste. “I’d love to watch you rip him apart.”

Shane blinked, clearly not expecting that. “I see. Let me try a different approach then.” With the suddenness of a striking snake, he jerked her against him. “You are mine. You won’t be leaving until I release you. I’m going to fuck you a thousand ways, starting tonight.”

She had been frozen with fear for a second, but the paralysis broke when he said fuck. Mia flinched and tried to struggle free of his grip. It tightened painfully on her arms, and she knew she would have a bruise. “Let go of me, you animal.”

“I can be.” He grasped the strands of hair that had fallen free to jerk her head backward. Shane licked her neck, ignoring her squawk of protest and attempts to wriggle free. “I can also be tender. You’ll get whichever side you nurture, baby.”

She cried out with shock when he savagely bit her at the bend of her neck. Liquid oozed from the spot, and her eyes widened at the sight of her blood on his lips when he lifted his head. At least he wiped it away instead of licking it off, she thought with a sharp edge of hysteria.

“Now, if you’ll be a good girl and go get ready, I’ll release you.” His nose wrinkled. “I’d much rather you smell sweet than of grease and sweat.”

Mia wanted to tell him to fuck off and admit she’d never capitulate, but she maintained silence. If she could get away from him, she had a better chance of escaping this house. He didn’t have to know yet that she had no plans to cooperate.

He smiled, looking satisfied as he let go of her. With a nonchalant motion, he took a tissue from the box on his desk and dabbed the bleeding spot on her neck. After tossing it in the trash without even looking at the can, he pressed a button on the panel at his desk. “Bruno, come escort Miss Kasilli to her room.” He let go of the button to examine her from head to toe. “You are a delicious little peach, Mia, and I’m looking forward to the first taste. I’ll join you in an hour or so.”

She didn’t speak, both because she had no idea what to say and because the nausea churning in her stomach made it impossible to converse. Anger was also rendering her speechless. How dare he think he could just take her, and she would fall in line with whatever he wanted? There was no way in hell she was going to cooperate with him.

When Bruno came a moment later, she walked behind him still without speaking. This time, Mia paid better attention to her surroundings, making an attempt to memorize all possible escape routes as she followed Bruno up the grand staircase to the third floor. They bypassed the second level, so she ignored it, knowing it wouldn’t offer any likely flight options if she couldn’t preview it.

He stopped before a pair of French doors painted a light yellow. “The boss will be up in a while, miss.”

She sneered. “I can hardly wait.”

He folded his bulk against the wall, making it clear he was standing guard.

Mia glared at him. “Do you have any idea what he has planned for me?” The blond giant didn’t reply. “You’re okay aiding him?” His only response was the slight twitch of his body, but he didn’t look at her. She sighed. “Yeah, I figured you were. You’re just like the
byki
my father always has around.”

***

Shane let go of a tiny bit of the tension he’d been carrying for months, ever since he’d first laid eyes on the sweet brunette waitress. The need to possess her had driven him for too long, and he was so tired of behaving irrationally when it came to Mia.

If only she hadn’t been Vadim Kasilli’s daughter, things would have been much simpler. He could have wooed and wowed her, and she would have been at his side—and in his bed—months ago. It had taken a five-minute conversation with Arvin Lovelle to disabuse him of the notion it would be an easy conquest. After he’d discovered her lineage and learned she loathed all things related to the
russkaya mafiya
, he’d known it was going to be a drawn-out campaign, and the smartest thing to do would be to walk away. If only he’d been able to do so.

It was unlikely she would feel different about mafia men with Irish roots, and he’d vowed he would forget the little brunette who had sparked such an insistent hard-on that he’d had to jerk off in the bathroom like a callow teenager between courses. And he’d still been raring to go after the dinner had concluded, frantically taking the blonde who had been his date in the alley behind the restaurant as they’d waited for the driver to maneuver the car through the packed parking lot.

Yet he’d found himself returning within two weeks, a different blonde in tow. That one had ended up sucking him off in the car as he’d moaned Mia’s name while coming in her throat. Understandably, she hadn’t been amenable to gracing his bed after that. It hadn’t mattered, because he had soon lost interest in all women except Mia.

When had he started following her? Not just having her spied on discreetly, with occasional security reports. No, he had started personally following her, like some obsessed stalker. Shane had known the behavior couldn’t continue, so he had taken steps to ensure Kasilli owed him, and he could freely collect Mia without inciting a war that would tear apart the three families in the city and bring the authorities down hard on their illegal, though lucrative, activities.

It had been a surprisingly easy maneuver to steal Kasilli’s shipment, and he’d even managed not to kill anyone. He assumed Kasilli had dealt harshly with the members of his crew who’d allowed the shipment to go missing, but that was on the Russian, not him. It had been even easier to “rescue” Kasilli by recovering the drugs, since they’d been in his warehouse the entire time.

The hardest part had been convincing Kasilli to part with Mia as a way to settle his debt.

“Why?” he had asked coldly.

“I have my reasons.” Shane had kept his response cryptic, not about to pour out his soul-destroying obsession for the other man’s daughter. It made him too vulnerable, and it might scare Kasilli away from letting him have her.

“There are certain considerations, O’Mara. She has obligations.”

Shane had firmed his mouth. “Too bad. You have obligations too, Mr. Kasilli. I’m sure we can find another way to settle our debt, if you wish to protect your little girl. Perhaps a cut of your profits?” He’d had no interest in the money, but he’d seen the greed in Kasilli’s eyes and had known money was the old fool’s weak spot.

After a long hesitation, Kasilli had nodded and waved his hand, as though it meant nothing. “Take the girl.”

“Have her come to you.”

Kasilli had lifted a shoulder, again seeming unbothered by handing over his daughter when compared to losing part of his fortune. “Very well. I shall arrange for her to come here, and then you can transport her wherever you intend to hold her.”

Shane remembered feeling nonplussed at the other man’s apathy. He hadn’t seemed to care what Shane’s intentions were toward Mia. Kasilli’s callousness had fallen in with his plans, but he’d still felt a hint of outrage on her behalf.

He tightened his mouth as the phantom emotion haunted him again. He didn’t have to be Dr. Phil to know there was a dysfunctional family vibe there, but it was a good thing for him. It suited his purposes to have Kasilli uninvolved in his daughter’s life. It would make it easier to separate her from her old life and force her to accept her new life more quickly.

She belonged to him, and she would soon acknowledge that.

If not, he would keep her anyway. He couldn’t be without Mia until this paralyzing obsession eased.

***

She entered the suite, finding it had a feminine air that suggested Shane didn’t sleep here as well. How nice of him, to allow her a private sleeping space where he could consign her out of his sight, except when he wanted to come visit her for a fuck.

Despite her aching feet, Mia methodically searched every inch of the suite, hoping for a weapon. The chairs were solidly built, and she didn’t think she could disassemble them without some kind of tool, which wasn’t available. Slamming them against the wall would bring Bruno, so that was out. Whoever had prepared “her” room must have been told to take anything that could be a weapon.

The only scissors she found were a pair meant for cuticles in the vanity table drawer. There was a letter opener on the desk, but she actually laughed out loud when she lifted the flimsy plastic stick. It would slip under a flap and rip through paper, but wouldn’t do anything to flesh.

There was a large window, and she seriously considered hurling herself through it until she discovered the wrought iron bars blocking the way. While ornate, they were still designed to keep her imprisoned. A similar set adorned the window in the bathroom.

She rummaged through the bathroom drawers, disgusted to find not even a razor. Unless he liked his women on the Sasquatch side, he was going to have to give her one eventually. Mia shuddered at the thought that he might plan to shave her himself. It was purely disgust that made her shiver, and not a hint of…anything else.

Yes, he was attractive. Okay, sinfully hot, and in other circumstances, she might have been flattered by his attention. His kidnapping had thwarted that, and she refused to be so shallow that she would let herself be distracted by his looks when contemplating his actions and what he still planned to do.

At first, she thought the bathroom was as weaponless as the rest of the suite. She sank onto the porcelain toilet in defeat, trying to brace herself for the possibility she was going to be taken tonight. Her gaze darted around the room before returning to the implement rack by the sink. A hairdryer and curling iron rested there. The hairdryer wouldn’t offer much help, but a hot metal rod had possibilities.

It was a weak weapon, but better than nothing. Mia got to her feet and took the rod from the shelf to switch it on. It was a brand she recognized and remembered was fast-heating. It seemed to take forever for the indicator light to turn from red to green despite its speed claims.

Mia left it on even after it had gone green, not sure when he would come for her. She wanted the curling iron to be as hot as possible. She also wanted to be able to maneuver, so she dared slip from the bathroom long enough to kick off her shoes. Biting her lip, she cast a glance at the closed French doors before going to the nearest dresser. Myriad feminine clothes filled the drawers, but they were all impractical and lacey, frilly things. Apparently, he planned to keep her as his Victoria’s Secret dress-up doll.

She had no time to check the closet when she heard feet in the hallway. Mia ran back to the bathroom and scooped up the curling rod, wrapping the cord around the handle as she hurried back into the bedroom. She stood near the door as he slipped inside, shielding the curling iron with her body as she held it at an angle to avoid burning herself. Mia waited until he closed the door and started to turn before she moved toward him.

He faced her as she reached him, looking at her with a scowl. “You didn’t prepare yourself.”

Mia didn’t speak. As he reached for her, she thrust the curling iron upward, pressing the barrel against his neck as fully as possible.

His eyes widened, and he jerked. Shane’s hand was tight around her neck when he grabbed her, lifting her off her feet with a little shake. The curling iron fell to the floor, and she knew it had been a stupid weapon.

While trying to suck in air through her obstructed windpipe, she also admitted to herself she had known it wouldn’t be effective, but it made a statement. She wasn’t going to surrender easily, no matter what threats or persuasion he used.

“You little bitch.” He shook her again before lowering her so that her toes brushed the floor. His hand loosened a bit, allowing her oxygen, but he didn’t release her as he thrust her before him. Her toes skimmed the hardwood floor as he shoved her into the bathroom.