Dark Betrayal (Famiglia Book 2)

by A. J. Daniels

  “Yes! God, yes!” I claw at his back, trying to hold on to something, anything to keep me anchored in this moment.

  “Let go, Angel.”

  I try to swallow past his grip on my throat and shake my head. I don’t want this to end. If I let go and allow my body to give in the orgasm threatening to wash over me then I’ll be forced back into reality. I’m not ready for that yet. I want to stay in this moment with him a little longer.

  “Fucking stop thinking and let go, Jessika,” he grunts in my ear, frustration simmering just below the surface.

  “No,” I pant.

  Alessandro growls, the hand gripping my hip skimming down between our bodies. His thumb finding the nub that’s sure to send me over the edge. I whimper when he applies a little pressure, trying desperately to hold on, but when he pinches my clit I know it’s no use. And then I’m coming. My orgasm crashing down over me and bringing with it a new onslaught of tears.

  I’ve barely come down from my orgasm when Alessandro lowers my legs back down, instantly pulling away from me when my feet are planted firmly on the ground.

  “Get out.” He turns his back on me, gathering up his shirt and slipping his arms through the sleeves.

  “No,” I sigh, my shoulders deflating while I struggle to pull my skirt back into place.

  It happens so fast I barely have time to react. My breath hitches when the cold metal of his gun presses against the sweat-slicked flesh of my forehead. I look up and straight into the barrel of his 9mm.

  There’s this moment when death is staring you in the face when realization dawns that the amount of money in your bank account, how much beer is in your fridge, what trending product you did or did not buy, social media… none of it matters. What matters is not telling the people in your life that you love them. What matters is that you were too scared to take a chance on something new.

  And right now, my one biggest regret is not telling my father to go fuck himself when I realized that my last job was this man standing in front of me. So what if that meant my death. At least then I wouldn’t have to look in the eyes of the man I love and see nothing but hurt and betrayal. Another regret is not telling Alessandro sooner. He said he knew all along that I was sent to kill him, but at least if I had come clean then maybe, just maybe, I would’ve had a chance with him.

  “Get. Out.”

  My lip quivers at the coldness of his voice. Gone is the strong, badass daughter of the Russian boss. In her place is a woman who’s about to lose the love of her life for good. Ignoring the gun pointed at my head, I swipe at my tears with the back of my hand. I could try to fight him, get the gun out of his hand and turn the stakes on him but I’ve already hurt him enough to last a lifetime so I don’t. I’ve already told him the truth, except for one.

  “I lov –”

  “Don’t fucking say shit you don’t mean. One last chance, Jessika. Get the fuck out of my house and don’t come back. I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head next time. A Romanov is not welcome in this house.”

  I should heed his threat and leave because the way his body is drawn tight, his finger hovering over the trigger there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll follow through on his threat. Call me stupid but I would much rather prefer it coming from him than my father.

  “No,” I choke out, staring him down as I move forward an inch, the barrel pressing further into my skin. “Do it, Alessandro. Pull the trigger. Put me out of my misery because I would much rather my death be at your hands than my father’s.”

  Alessandro stares at me, slack-jawed. No doubt taken by surprise from my admission.

  “Do it,” I taunt him, refusing to break eye contact.

  “Jessika, don’t fucking tempt me right now.”

  “Alessandro, please,” I beg, not caring how fucked up we must look right now.

  Me standing in front of him in nothing but my wrinkled skirt, him with jeans slung slow on his hips, the button still undone and pointing a gun to my head while I beg him to pull the fucking trigger.

  We were two fucked up, broken people who found each other at the worst possible time. He wanted to save me by forcing me to live a life without him. I wanted him to kill me because I couldn’t imagine living without him.

  “Goddammit, Jessika!” he roars, the barrel pressing harder into my skull, but that wasn’t what caused me to wince. No, the sight of his finger pressing down on the trigger did that.

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out through my parted lips, I take a second to gather myself and steel my chin.

  “I love you,” I whisper a split second before the sound of a gunshot sounds through the room and I jump.

  Why the fuck did I jump? I’m supposed to be dead. Dead people don’t jump. I slowly will my eyes to open not realizing that I had shut them at the last minute. My head is spinning and there’s a ringing in my ears. When my vision clears enough, Alessandro is on his knees a few feet in front of me, the gun still clenched in a fist resting on his thigh, his head bent, shoulders heaving.

  Slowly, I twist to the side to see a hole in the wall, not even two inches from where my head just was. Fuck that was close. I take a tentative step towards him and then another before I’m kneeling in front of him.

  “You missed. Why?”

  The one thing I know about Alessandro from the countless research my father had on him, is that he never misses a shot. His head is still bent, but his entire body stills.

  “For the same reason why you couldn’t kill me.” He clears his throat and discreetly wipes at his cheeks.

  “We make quite the pair, huh?”

  There’s a small grin on his face when he finally concedes and lifts those amazing grey eyes to look at me. God, I love his eyes. They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before. But there’s something unsettling about the way they’re trained on me right now. I try not to squirm and grab at my tank top, pulling it over my head in hopes that it hides some of the trembling in my hands.

  Alessandro grips my wrist when I stand and move to start cleaning the mess around us, my body turning to stone at his touch. His eyes roam over my face and neck. I’m assuming the makeup I used to cover up the bruises has wiped away and he’s seeing the still slightly purple and blue-tinged skin. Thankfully, he doesn’t grill me about how I got them.

  “It’s time to come clean about everything, Jessika. I’m calling Braxton.”

  “I’m not your Angel anymore, am I?” Translation: I’m not yours anymore, am I?

  He doesn’t answer me, but the lingering hurt and betrayal in his eyes is answer enough. I’ll never be his again, and that’s the worst kind of torture. Knowing I had everything in the palm of my hands, and just lost it.

  “Call Braxton,” I choke out past the lump in my throat. “Tell him to bring Klara. I have a lot of apologizing to do,” I say and then go in search of the broom and dustpan I know he keeps in the pantry, to clean up the debris caused from the bullet hitting the wall.

  ALESSANDRO

  JESSIKA SHIFTS NERVOUSLY from her seat on the sofa when I get up to answer the door and let Braxton and Klara in. Nobody speaks while I pour us each a drink and take a seat on the chair across from Jess. Braxton and Klara exchange confused glances, but Jess refuses to look away from a spot on the wall she’s found fascinating since they arrived.

  When I called to invited them over I never said why. Just that it was important for him to bring Klara. I thought I’d give Jessika the responsibility of explaining this whole fucked up situation to them.

  “What’s all this about Alex?” Braxton questions after a long drawn out silence.

  When I first called and told him that Jessika wanted to explain everything to him, he was outraged that I hadn’t taken care of the threat like I said I would. The only reason that she’s alive and sitting on the sofa in my living room at this very moment is that Braxton understood that my feelings for her went deeper than I ever cared to admit but not even I could save her if he didn’t like what she had to
say.

  I clear my throat and take a healthy sip of the amber liquid in my glass. “Jessika,” I prompt.

  Her shoulders round as she straightens up and looks Braxton in the eyes before her gaze swings over to Klara. “First, I want you to know that I never intended to go through with any of it…” she starts and I scoff but she continues like she never heard me. “And I never meant to put you in danger or… or to betray you.”

  “The only reason you’re still breathing is that Alessandro asked me to hear you out, but make no mistake I will not hesitate to do what he couldn’t.” Braxton leans forward, elbows braced on his knees.

  If I didn’t hate her, I would almost admire her strength at this moment. The way she steals her chin and refuses to back down. Jessika inhales deeply, letting it out through her parted lips. “I grew up as the odd one out in my family. I never understood the things they did and the measures they went to achieve something. No child should grow up afraid of their own family, their blood. When I was twelve I made a vow to myself that I would never allow them to make me into one of them. I vowed that when I was old enough I would leave and not look back, that I would start over where nobody knew me. Where nobody knew the name of my family. And I did.

  The night before my eighteenth birthday, I left and I didn’t look back. When nothing happened a couple months later, I enrolled in my first year of college under a different surname, I applied for a student loan and was approved before classes started. Everything was great for that year, I was finally starting to relax into a routine, thinking that they must’ve given up on me or something.”

  Her eyes squeeze shut and I can see that she’s struggling with the memories but I refuse to comfort her. My fingers grip the arm of the chair a little harder.

  “The morning of my nineteenth birthday they came for me. Ripped me out of my bed at four in the morning. The reason I know the exact time is because my alarm clock reflected the numbers on the ceiling and I remember it being the first thing I saw when that hand clamped down on my mouth.”

  While Jessika keeps telling them what happened next, my eyes stay glued to Klara, watching her every reaction and the moment she realizes what’s happening. Why I asked them to come over.

  “Your… Your family’s the reason you were in that building?”

  Jess swallows hard and nods, slipping her hands out of Klara’s when Klara goes to take Jessika’s hands in hers.

  “I realized what was happening when I caught a glimpse of Dante and Gio in that first week. Dante was always kissing up to my father, ready to do whatever he asked because he was certain that father would be agreeable to join the two families when the time came for him to take over as Don. I don’t think he ever thought you’d come back and claim your birthright after your father died, Braxton. But when you did, I think it enraged him to the point that he pledged his full allegiance to my father-”

  “Wait,” Klara interrupts turning to her fiancé. “You never wanted to be the Don?”

  Braxton reaches Klara’s hand, kissing the top of hers before leaning back in his seat. “I rebelled against the family a lot in my teenage years. I had been groomed to take over for as long as I can remember but that doesn’t mean that I always wanted to. I spent several years doing everything I could to distance myself from La Famiglia. When my father died I knew I needed to become the man he groomed me to be,” he explains then turns his attention back to Jessika. “What about Giovanni?”

  “Gio was always a dirty rat who only cared about which family could pay him the most money. I-I didn’t know about you, Klara. I didn’t know that part of my father’s business until…” Her voice trails off.

  I’m half impressed that Braxton has managed to keep his cool - barely - through hearing this and half impressed that Jessika keeps talking. I didn’t think she would actually tell them everything.

  “My father was sending me a message by handing me over to those men. No matter how far I run, he’ll always drag me back and won’t hesitate to put me in my place. No matter how hard I fight, he’ll always beat me down. When I left the hospital, he was waiting for me outside, said he had a proposition for me. If I do things for him, he’ll let me have my freedom. He’ll let me walk away from the family.”

  “What things?” Braxton questions, his jaw ticking. He already knows she was meant to kill me, but he’s testing her. Wanting to know if he can really trust the words coming from her mouth.

  “Do you know what a black widow is?”

  “Like the spider?” Klara cocks her head to the side, but Jessika shakes her head no.

  “He made you use your body to lure men before killing them.”

  Jessika looks over to Braxton and gives him a clipped nod before turning her gaze back to the hands in her lap.

  “Jessika…” Klara gasps, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand.

  “How many?”

  I gulp down the rest of my drink and go to the kitchen to pour another. The first part of her story is fucked up on so many levels. I still don’t understand how her father could care so less about his daughter to pay someone to rape her repeatedly.

  “Four.” I hear her answer as I round the corner back into the living room and take my seat again. “I-I have one more.” She glances up at me, her emerald eyes still pleading with me. “But I refuse to do it. I won’t do it.”

  “Who is it? Who does he want you to kill?” Braxton sits up straighter.

  “Me,” I supply for her and the room goes silent.

  “Like I said, I refuse to do it. I will not do it.”

  “What happens if you don’t?” Klara asks the question we’re all thinking.

  “He’ll kill me,” Jessika’s voice is low, defeated when she answers. “It was supposed to be done by this morning. By now my father has realized that I was serious when I told him I refused to go through with it and he’ll be sending someone to take me out.”

  “But why?” Klara questions, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Why would your own father want to kill you? Because you refused to kill Alessandro?”

  Jessika nods. “Because he can no longer control me. He trained me, broke me down and built me back up so that I would take orders from him without question. I know the ins and outs of his business. I know how his mind works and exactly where to hit to hurt him. I can single-handedly bring him down. I’m a bigger threat to him now that I have severed any loyalty I had to my family.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “Look, Braxton, you don’t have to believe me. Hell, I don’t think I expect you to, but I’m not a threat to you or the Famiglia.”

  Braxton studies her for several minutes. The air in the room growing thicker with each tick of the clock that goes by in silence. I can tell Klara wants to say something but she wisely chooses to keep her mouth shut.

  Eventually, he stands pulling Klara up with him. “You’re right, Jessika, you are no threat to the Famiglia, but I don’t trust you.”

  Klara looks from Braxton to Jessika and back again. Her eyes widening in the realization of what Braxton is about to do. “Brax, no…” she starts but the slight shake of his head brokers no room for argument.

  “You made your bed now you must lie in it, Jessika.”

  Braxton grabs Klara by the hand as he turns to leave. I should’ve known that she would not go willingly. Klara is a spitfire when she wants to be. She’ll go to bat for people if she feels they’ve been wronged, even people she barely knows, and she most definitely isn’t afraid to put Braxton in his place. Kind of like she’s about to do now.

  “Klara,” he warns.

  She pulls her hand out of his, cocking her hip and crossing her arms over her chest. “No, Braxton. I know you’re not that completely heartless-”

  “It has nothing to do with heart, Mia Bella, and everything to do with protecting this family.”

  “Jessika is part of that family, Braxton, whether you want to admit it or not. She became part of this family the minute Alessandro invited her for dinner.”<
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  I choke and sputter on the gulp of liquor I just took. Ignoring the way it burns as it fights its way up my nose. Klara turns to me, fire in her eyes and I wisely stop whatever protest was about to leave my mouth.

  “Don’t you deny it, Alex,” she says, pointing a finger at me. “She’s the only girl you’ve ever invited over for family dinner.”

  “It’s not like that, baby girl.” I hoped by using my nickname for her that she would be swayed to take my side. I should’ve known that women will always stick together.

  “Yeah? And how many women have you told about your brother?”

  I curse under my breath because she’s right. The only people outside of my parents that know about my brother are the people in this room. Thanks to some hot sex and pillow talk, Jessika now knows everything there is to know about me. That just reminds me that while she knows everything about me, I know nothing about her. The woman I’m in love with is nothing but a stranger.

  “That’s what I thought,” Klara says smirking before turning back to Braxton. “As far as I’m concerned, Jessika is family. You yourself have said that family always protects its own.”

  “Mia Bella, how can you be sure that this isn’t some trick? That once we agree to help her, she won’t turn around and twist the knife in my back?”

  “She is right here,” Jessika huffs. I can tell she’s trying to put the tough girl mask back on, and while it may work on other people, I know her too intimately to know that she’s trying and failing. I want to go to her, pull her into my arms and tell her that I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she lives to see another day. That we’ll both live to see another day, but my anger is still too close to the surface and if I get my hands on her, I can’t guarantee that I won’t follow through on my previous promise of killing her.

  “Braxton De Luca!” Klara’s hands fly to her hips as she narrows her eyes. “You saw her in that room next to mine. You saw what they did to her. Family does not do that. Family does not treat each other as if they are expendable. Her father is no more her family than Dante was yours.”