Taken for his Captive: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Torenti Family Book 4)

by Mae Doyle

  taken for His Captive

  A Dark Mafia Romance

  The Torenti Family 4

  Mae Doyle

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  This is a work of art/fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, or places is purely coincidental. Any persons appearing on the cover image for this book are models and do not have any connection to the contents of this story.

  All characters depicted in this work are unrelated consenting adults. This author assumes no responsibility for the use/misuse of this material.

  © 2020 Mae Doyle

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  Chapter 1

  Isabella

  I stretched, enjoying the way my silk sheets slipped down my body. One thing that I loved about my bedroom was that the bed was huge. Sure, I’d traveled when I was younger with my parents, but it didn’t matter how nice the resort or the hotel was. There wasn’t any place like my own room.

  Even if I reached my arms and legs all the way out, I couldn’t hit the wall, or reach the edge of the bed. It was bigger than a King size – I thought that my dad had told me that it was a California King, but I didn’t know and I didn’t care.

  All I cared about was being able to get the sleep I wanted, and my silk sheets, my down comforter, and my memory foam pillow were all perfect for that.

  Except something wasn’t right. I punched my pillow, trying to make it puff up in the middle a little more so that I had something more comfortable to rest on, but it honestly felt like it just flattened back out again.

  “What in the world?” I knew that that pillow should hold its shape better. It was probably the most expensive one in the store, but again, my dad didn’t blink once when I asked him to get it for me. I was his princess, his perfect doll, the one thing that he would dote over after my mom died, and sometimes I definitely took advantage of that.

  But the pillow I was sleeping on? Definitely not my memory foam. I sat up, the sheets and covers falling off of me, and stretched out in the dark to reach for the lamp by my bed. I knew that I’d have to roll over to reach it, but when I did, I didn’t feel anything.

  And the bed was much too small.

  My heart started to pound in my chest as I stretched both of my arms and legs out. My wrists flopped uselessly over the edges of the bed. Unless I was having an Alice in Wonderland moment, it wasn’t my pillow.

  Wasn’t my room.

  I was really starting to panic, and I shoved my hand under my pillow, feeling around for my phone. I always kept it under there just in case I had to do some late-night texting. Not that my dad would have cared if I was on the phone until the wee hours of the night, but that way I didn’t have to worry about rolling over to get it from my nightstand.

  Nothing.

  It wasn’t there.

  I pulled the covers up to my chest and turned my head, staring around the room. Usually I could see the faint glow from my laptop or a strip of light under the door if my dad was up working late. He was doing that more and more, the family business requiring more of his time than ever.

  “Dad?” My voice sounded small and scared in the dark, but I didn’t think that I could call out any louder. If I wasn’t at home – which was ridiculous, really – then that meant that someone had brought me here. And that someone may be listening for me

  And that someone probably wasn’t my dad.

  I turned on the bed and slipped my feet to the floor. It was cold and felt like concrete, not like the fluffy white faux fur rug in my bedroom. Standing up, I pulled a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around me. I liked to sleep in a tank top and undies, but I didn’t want to go exploring dressed like that.

  The blanket was scratchy on my bare skin but I just pulled it closer for warmth and protection. What I needed protection from, I didn’t know, but I had a sinking feeling that something was really wrong.

  “Dad?” I tried again, raising my voice just a little.

  Nothing. He didn’t respond, but then again, nobody else did, either. That should have given me a little burst of hope, but all it did was make my heart sink in my chest.

  Even though I’d thought that it was pitch black in the room, when I let my eyes adjust, I could see a soft glow from the crack around a door. I walked towards it, carefully feeling around with my foot before putting it on the floor so that I didn’t accidentally step on anything.

  Just six paces to the door, and there wasn’t anything in my way. I turned and looked around the space, hoping that my eyes had adjusted enough for me to be able to see anything. Furniture, windows, hell, even a vase of fucking flowers might give me a clue as to where I really was, but it was all so dark that even trying to see something was useless.

  It was useless, but I wasn’t.

  That was one thing that my dad had made sure of. Even though he pampered me in every way possible, he also made sure that I’d be able to take care of myself if something bad ever happened. I didn’t have any weapon to protect myself, but I didn’t need one.

  I was a weapon.

  A weapon in skimpy clothing and bare feet, sure, but that was something that I’d have to figure out later.

  Reaching down, I found the cool metal handle easily and I gave it a gentle twist. Surprisingly, it turned to the side and the door swung open under a little bit of pressure. My heart started to pound harder, the sound in my ears making it difficult for me to listen for anything.

  Or anyone.

  I paused and took some deep breaths, focusing on the way the oxygen flowed through my arteries, focusing on the way my head cleared.

  Three breaths in, Isabella, three breaths out. Feel every cell come alive. When you focus, you can really feel it. If you can calm yourself, then you can keep yourself from making poor and rash decisions. But you are the only one who can.

  It worked, just as my dad had always told me that it would. I felt my heartbeat slow back down, felt my thinking clear, which meant that I wasn’t going to do something stupid.

  One thought struck me as I opened the door again to peek out into the hall.

  All of my training? All of the times my dad woke me up to spar in the middle of the night? The mantras and bruises, the training with and without weapons?

  It was almost like he already knew that something like this would happen one day.

  Chapter 2

  Nicolo

  “Are you sure that this is the building?” I asked, glancing over at the driver. Freddy sat puffing on a cigarette even though I’d told him a million times that those fucking things would kill him and nodded, but there was a slight pause before he confirmed.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” He sounded confident, but I knew better than to just take him at
face value. I wanted to know for sure that he wasn’t going to make us royally fuck this up. What was waiting on us wasn’t a normal job.

  I knew it. He knew it.

  “Your intel is good? Double check.” We didn’t have a lot of time, but we had enough for me to make sure that things were being done correctly. Freddy knew better than to sigh and argue.

  He pulled a phone from his pocket and fired off a quick text before rolling down the window and shaking off his ash. He had long hair that he needed to cut because it kept getting into his eyes when he ran. He must have caught me staring, because he snubbed his cigarette out on the side of the car and dropped the butt into the cupholder.

  “Sorry. Bad habit when I’m stressed.” For a moment, he looked mollified, but the expression on his face changed just a moment later. Freddy was taught to never show emotion. Never let people know how you really feel. He needed the love of a good woman, but that was another thing that he refused to listen to me on.

  “You must be stressed a lot.” I remarked, taking a long sip of the water I held in my lap. Me? No smoking. Minimal drinking, and especially not on the job. I had to set a good example for the rest of the guys, and showing up sloppy drunk wasn’t the best way to do it.

  He glanced at me from the corner of his eye and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  “You need to get laid.”

  At that, he barked out a laugh. “You got that one right.” Before he could say anything else, the phone in his lap buzzed and he grabbed it to look at it before turning it to show me the screen.

  She’s in there. Not alone.

  “Ricky’s a man of few words,” I remarked, unbuckling and tossing my water onto the floor of the car. Freddy and I got out of the truck, carefully shutting the doors so that they wouldn’t slam. It wasn’t like the assholes inside would hear us. I knew from experience that they’d be drinking and partying to celebrate their recent raid.

  But they weren’t going to be celebrating for long.

  Freddy and I were dressed in black, not because it was scary, but because it made it easier for us to blend in. I had a knife strapped to my outer thigh and my favorite piece tucked into the back of my jeans. On second thought, I stripped from my jacket and threw it onto the side mirror of the truck.

  We had no real way of knowing what exactly we were going to get into in there, and I wanted to be able to move. The goal was simple: get the girl and get out, but I also wanted to take out as many of those assholes as possible. There wasn’t anything better than clearing out some scum while doing a job, and those assholes? Pure scum.

  “Ready?” Freddy kept his voice down, but he still sounded like he was shouting in the quiet street. I nodded, glancing around us for any traffic.

  Nobody was out. The night was shit cold, and I could see my breath in front of me. Freddy zipped his jacket up tighter to his chin to stay warm, but I knew that soon the blood pumping through my veins would be more than enough to warm me up. We weren’t going to stay cold for long.

  “Third door on the left,” he said, walking over to me so that he could keep his voice low. There’s a long hallway on the right side and she’ll be in one of the rooms. Back of the building has the kitchen and their workspace, but the front is a setup to look like a normal home. Don’t be fooled.”

  That made me glance at him and raise an eyebrow. Sometimes Freddy forgot that I was ten years older than the rest of them. it would take a hell of a lot of shit to fool me. I’d seen it all, and most of it before he was even walking.

  “Just keep your fucking mouth shut when we get there. Our goal is the girl and everyone else is dispensable. Don’t get shot,” I added.

  He grinned at me and threw me a salute with his gun, then the two of us walked across the empty street. Ricky had eyes on us from above, but he wasn’t going to be in there with us. If shit hit the fan then all we had to do was get these motherfuckers outside and he’d pick them off one by one.

  There were two lights above the front door, but one of them was out, so the stoop was lit with a pale light. I slipped tools from my back pocket and had the lock picked in under thirty seconds. Sure, kicking down the door would have made a bigger impact, but there wasn’t any reason to clue them in to us coming.

  The door swung open without a sound, but I knew that it was probably connected to an alarm, so Freddy and I moved quickly. I took the lead, slipping my piece from my back and holding it with one hand while I reached around the door with the other to open it with me as a shield.

  Nothing. Fucking nothing.

  A burst of fear broke through me as I wondered for just a second if we had the wrong house. It was so damn still. So quiet.

  Pictures hung on the walls; their frames filled with the perfect American family. Both parents, two kids, a dog. They all hunched around each other for the shot, arms linked together, huge fucking smiles on their faces.

  A giant TV was suspended over the fireplace and there was a worn rug on the floor. It looked like any family’s home. My gun never wavered though, even when I had these thoughts. I knew that these motherfuckers were tricky.

  Just because this looked like the perfect family’s house didn’t mean that it was. It just meant that they’d spent a little extra time making sure that anyone walking by wouldn’t suspect a thing.

  Freddy shut the door behind us and I gestured with my gun to the hall. In a room down the hall Isabella would be waiting for us to come save her. I hadn’t seen her since she was a kid, but the picture that had been sent over showed a gorgeous woman.

  Well, recently 18. Old enough to be legal, but I’d already warned the boys to keep their hands off of her. I didn’t want them even looking at her, even though I didn’t have any claim over her. It just wasn’t respectful.

  Freddy nodded and followed me, his gun held slightly out from the side of his body so that if he fucked up and pulled the trigger he wouldn’t immediately put me on the floor. We stepped carefully, taking the path across the rug to avoid any squeaky parts in the wood floor.

  Nothing. No stains, no creaks. It was like the house was a perfect shell for the family who lived there, but I knew better than to think that the house never saw evil.

  The bastards who took Isabella were known for being ruthless. The fact that they hadn’t just shot her in the head when they took her from her room last night was strange, but they probably had bigger plans for her. The last time someone had gone missing, they’d strung up their guts across the main street stop lights to make a point to city council.

  Their point was made.

  This felt different, somehow. It felt less drastic, more cunning. It was personal, because everyone knew that the Marino family had beef with her father. They could have beef all they wanted, but her dad was smart enough to call in the big guns to get his daughter back. Nothing like helping out a family friend.

  I always laughed when people said that different mafia families couldn’t be friends. We could, and Isabella’s family was proof of that. We just usually chose not to. But when the shit hit the fan and his daughter when missing, Dante Esposito reached out to me.

  That’s why I was standing there in the doorway, carefully peeking around it and listening for footsteps instead of stretching out in bed. Nobody wants to be raiding a house at one in the morning, but when Dante Esposito calls you to handle his shit, you get the fuck out of bed and handle his shit.

  “Good?” Freddy’s voice was so quiet that it was almost a whisper, and I nodded without glancing back at him. We were a good pair, always working hard to make sure that shit got handled in a timely fashion, and while I was older than him, we got along for the most part.

  Turning the corner, I kept my gun out in front of me as I walked down the hall. There had to be half a dozen doors scattered down its length, and all of them were shut. Keeping my eyes down at the end of the hall, I reached out and tried the first handle, even though we were pretty sure that she was held in the third room.
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  I didn’t want any surprises sneaking up behind me when we weren’t watching our backs.

  Locked.

  Fuck.

  The second door, then. Freddy was so close behind me he was my shadow, and even though I wanted to be able to see if something came at us from the hall, I knew from experience that he had my back. Anything that turned the corner and came at us wouldn’t be moving for much longer.

  The second was locked too, but before we could move on, there was a loud slam and a scream from the back room. Without looking back at Freddy, I ran, pumping my arms to hurry down the hall even though it wasn’t that long. Before I fucked up and turned the corner without looking where I was going, I skidded to a stop and peered around the hall into the main room.

  What in the actual fuck was going on in there?

  Chapter 3

  Isabella

  I’d never been kidnapped before, but it wasn’t for lack of trying on some mafia asshole’s parts. I’d known what was going on since I woke up in a strange bed, but I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself. Walking down the hall and hearing men laughing and talking kinda clued me in.

  “Can you believe how easy it was?” The asshole speaking sounded like he smoked a pack a day. If he didn’t already have emphysema then it was definitely on its way. I halfway hoped that he had an oxygen tank that I could use to bash his brains in.

  “Shouldn’t have been that easy. Old Dante must be losing his touch.” That voice was younger, and I bristled when I heard him speak of my dad like that. My dad wasn’t old, or I didn’t think so, but I knew that his line of work was harder on him recently than it had been in the past.

  Probably because he didn’t have mom there anymore to help keep him sane.

  Sadness threatened to squeeze at my heart, but I set my jaw and pushed it back down.

  Never let your emotions get the better of you when you’re about to go into battle. Dwelling in them can make the difference in who gets to walk away alive.