Dark Desire (Famiglia Book 1)

by A. J. Daniels

  Footsteps sound behind me and I assume that they belong to Gio or Alessandro going to deliver my instructions, the other staying behind in case I needed them.

  “What do you want to do with them, Boss?” Gio asks meaning Amanda and the kid.

  “Let the kid go.”

  I wait until the sound of shuffling feet disappears, my eyes still trained on the bitch in front of me.

  “You can’t…kill…me. Deep down… you still… love me.” She’s growing weak from the lack of oxygen, struggling to get words out.

  It would bring me immense pleasure to end her life right here, right now. To see the life leave her eyes. To hit my cousin where it hurts the most. Apparently, my rule about women and children did not extend to her.

  “Ah, see that’s where you’re wrong, Puttana.” Her eyes widen at the use of that name directed at her. I grin enjoying watching her squirm, watching her reactions to this darker side of me that I kept hidden around her. “I don’t love you. In fact, I’m trying real hard not to kill you. Do you want to die, Amanda?”

  Her hands ball into fists against my chest and she tries to shove me away, but her attempts are laughable.

  “Let me go, Braxton.” Tears pool in the depths of her eyes, and I’m the sick bastard who takes great joy in making her cry.

  “Do you want to die, Amanda?” I repeat my question, lips brushing her ear, voice cold. “Do you want to feel my blade slice through this throat like butter? Do you want to feel the life slowly leave your body? Hmm?”

  “No,” she sobs. “Please…” she begs.

  I slam her back further into the wall. “Good. Tell my fucking cousin I’m looking for him and not to leave town. If he does, Amanda, I’ll be back, and you’ll be paying with your life,” I growl in front of her face. “Don’t make me come back here, yeah?”

  I feel her throat working to swallow beneath my fingers as she nods frantically, promising that she’ll do whatever I say. I leave her to slide down the wall in a crying mess as I nod toward Gio who had come back not too long ago and casually slide my hands into the pockets of my dress pants making my way out the club and back to my car.

  Usually I would wait out my prey. Wait for them to emerge from their hiding place, but not this time. Waiting could cost Klara her life. My chest aches with the thought of never seeing her again. Never hearing the bite of her tongue when she calls me out on my bullshit. No, I would not be waiting. This time I was going to smoke out my prey, and when he finally emerged from his hole, I would be in the shadows… waiting, ready to strike.

  I’M GOING CRAZY. Losing my shit.

  It’s been a week since Klara was taken and my damn cousin is still in hiding, nobody has seen or heard from him since he got word that I was on my way to his club to track him down. Loosening the tie around my neck, I gulp down the rest of the bourbon in the crystal tumbler between my fingers and immediately pour a refill. Not caring in the least that bourbon fucks with my head more than any other liquor.

  One week. Seven days. One-hundred-sixty-eight hours. Over ten-thousand minutes.

  My fingers tighten around the glass until my knuckles turn white and then it’s hurdling through the air until the sound of glass shattering sounds against the far wall of my office. I run my hands through my hair, gripping the ends, wanting to tear it out. I haven’t slept in seven days. Refused to eat more than the minimum to just keep me alive, spending hours upon hours at the office gym downstairs or the one I’d had built in my house.

  I can’t even walk into my fucking house without seeing her face. So trusting. So full of life. And I fucked it up by bringing her into this life. She wasn’t supposed to be anything other than a one-night fuck in the back office of the club. But she turned my life upside down. Made me crave her in ways I didn’t know was possible.

  “Boss,” Alessandro knocks, pushing open the heavy wood door to my office. I don’t bother looking up, knowing that what he will see will be a man, made weak by the woman he loves.

  Loves? The fuck?

  I don’t do love. I can’t do love in my line of work because shit like this happens and fucks with my head. I’ve already put important matters on the back burner so that I can focus all my attention on getting this girl back.

  Guilt.

  I feel guilt for bringing her into this mess, that’s all. I’m going to fix it by bringing her home and then I’ll wash my hands of the situation after making sure she’s safe. Braxton De Luca does not do love. Fuck that shit. Love is for the weak.

  “Got one of Dante’s associates in the basement. Got a tip he may know where Dante is.”

  Carefully schooling my features and taking a deep breath, I look up at Alessandro and nod. I follow him out a moment later, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt and getting ready to do business.

  ***

  I’m hidden by the shadows in the basement watching as Gio takes jumper cables to the guy’s fingers. I’m not one of those men who runs an empire but refuse to get dirty. I still thrive on the blood… the death that comes with this life, but Alessandro sensed that my mind wasn’t in the game and suggested I watch from the shadows for now. On a normal day, he would’ve gotten my blade for making such a suggestion. I never asked my men to do what I was not prepared to do myself. But nothing about this week has been normal. Reluctantly, I agreed which shocked the shit out of not just him but myself too.

  So here I stand. Leaning a shoulder against the far wall basked in shadows. Hands casually resting in my dress pants. The picture of cool, calm, and collected while I watch my two best men torture my cousin’s whereabouts out of this man. Meanwhile, there’s a war raging inside me. A beast rattling its cage, looking for that one weak spot so it can finally break free of its chains.

  There are times when I wonder if the roles were reversed, if I were the one strapped to that chair getting the ever-loving shit beat out of me, would I talk as easily as everyone who has ever sat there has? Or would I welcome death? Would I embrace my fate? Laugh in its face? Would I struggle against my restraints and my captors? Would I fight, the way I hope Klara has, to stay alive?

  The simple answer? No, I wouldn’t fight. I’d welcome the end with open arms. I’ve done enough, seen enough in this life. I scrub a hand down my face. If I ever had the choice, I would walk away from it all.

  I scoff. Yeah, thirty-three fucking years of this shit and given half a chance I would walk away with no regrets. I would leave it all behind without a backward glance.

  But a choice, there is not. I was born into this life and the only way I was leaving it was by death.

  Gio looks to me in silent approval to up the ante on the man strapped to the chair, and I nod, not giving a shit what lengths he has to go to get the information we need. Fuck, start chopping off limbs for all I care. I just need him alive long enough to give me what I want.

  Savage? Sure.

  Ruthless? Maybe.

  Necessity? Fuck yeah. Anything to bring Klara home.

  “You’re wasting your time. I don’t know where Dante is, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” He spits blood at Gio’s feet and I see the moment Gio shuts down, the moment his demons come to the surface to play, but I have to shut that shit down before he kills the little fuck.

  Wielding the gator machete over one shoulder, I make my way out of the shadows keeping my head down until I’m standing in front of the man strapped to the chair and slowly, menacingly I lift my eyes to his, smirking when the first real sign of fear flashes behind his eyes.

  Gio and Alessandro eye the knife over my shoulder and wisely take a step back without another word or protest. I’ve had enough of this amateur shit. It was time to let the beast out to play.

  “Tell me, how much do you think your life is worth?”

  He squirms in his seat, trying to move as far back from me as he physically can while his hands and feet are strapped to the frame of the chair, and I let him. There’s nowhere for him to go. Nowhere for him to hide. Eventually, everyone’s d
arkest nightmare catches up with them.

  “Do you value your life?” I ask stalking toward him like a predator to its prey.

  Fear is a funny thing. Wield it right and it can be the best motivator. But wield it wrong, and it can be the worst paralyzer. I can practically smell the fear emanating from his pores, can hear the blood rushing through his veins, see his pulse rapidly beating in his neck.

  “Answer the question,” I bark.

  “Go to hell.” He breathes out hard. Steeling his chin and forcing himself to not retreat again when I step closer.

  I hold my hands out to the side in a look-around-you gesture. “I’m already here.” I bring the fifteen-inch fine-edge side of the blade down the side and across, slicing through both shins.

  “Ah, fuuuck!”

  My smirk turns into a full grin when his screams reach my ears and as I watch the blood flow down his legs. Yes, I’m a sick bastard, but he should know not to get between me and what I want.

  I spend the next hour delivering little slices with my blade and watching as his blood pools beneath the chair and runs toward the drain in the middle of the concrete floor. He’s fading in and out of consciousness now so I kick his chair hard enough to jostle him.

  “Give me what I want and all this stops.”

  His head falls forward, chin resting against his chest, his eyes fighting to stay open. “You’ll just kill me anyway.” His voice is weak, barely audible in the cold basement. Alessandro walks behind him, gripping his hair and pulling his head up so that I can see his face.

  “Tell me what I want to know and I may spare you.”

  “And waste my last breath trying to appeal to the De Luca humanity that doesn’t exist? I’d rather choose death.”

  I look over my shoulder at Gio and nod, turning back to the fucker strapped to my chair as Gio hands me a used leather wallet. I hoped that he would’ve told me what I want to hear before it ever came down to this but this little fuck is like a stone wall. I pull out the wrinkled paper, eyeing the smiling family in the picture.

  “If you don’t value your own life, what of that of your wife? Your kids?”

  New life sparks behind his eyes, adrenaline fueled raged causing the fight back in him. “You sonuva bitch! Leave my family alone,” he snarls.

  “Alessandro, where’s the wife now?”

  “Just finishing up her weekly yoga class, Boss. Bitch looked good enough to eat in those damn yoga pants.” He grins, tightening his hold around the fucker’s hair.

  “You sick fuck!” He spits, struggling against Alessandro’s hold and his binds.

  “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll make sure Alessandro here doesn’t go near your precious wife.”

  His shoulders hunch forward, all fight leaving his tired and weak body. “She’s supposed to be in a shipping container bound for Cuba tonight. Dante is scheduled to be there, too.”

  I look to Alessandro and Gio in a silent command to clean this shit up before making my way toward the basement stairs. “Dump his body where they’ll find it in the morning.” Stopping before I reach the door I add, “Leave the wife alone…for now.” Then push open the door and step out of hell.

  ***

  (Klara)

  I wake up in a daze. I’m freezing, goosebumps litter my arms and legs, but I can’t cover them because my hands are still bound behind me back. My shoulder ache from being stretched behind me for hours. I need to pee, but unless I want to embarrass myself I know I have to hold it. I just don’t know for how long.

  Muffled voices sound outside the metal container and I shift a little to try and get closer to the crack in the door so that I can hear them better.

  “Rueben’s dead. They found his body this morning. Blade wounds.”

  “He’s getting closer.”

  “Should we move the girl?”

  Muffled curses and then silence.

  “Did he tell them what we said to?”

  “He held his own until De Luca threatened the wife. Told him she was being shipped to Cuba.”

  That voice. I know that voice.

  “Just like we planned.”

  “Excellent. Dante will be pleased.”

  My breathing stills. No. I recognize both those voices, but it can’t be. They were my friends. Why would they do this to me? Who was Dante? And where was Braxton?

  Please, Braxton. Find me. I send up a silent plea, praying that he’s close, and then the metal doors open and my worst fear comes to life.

  “SHOULD WE CHECK the port?” Antonio paces in front of my desk.

  I called a meeting back in my office for the three men I trust in this famiglia the most. Gio has yet to show up, but I’ll take that up with him later. I’m assuming he’s out tracking down more leads on Klara’s whereabouts.

  “My cousin’s not stupid. He never planned to send her to Cuba in a fucking shipping container. He knows what Klara means to me. He’d never take eyes off her.”

  “What does she mean to you, Boss?” Alessandro questions, taking a seat across from me.

  I glance down at the glass in my fist, watching the way the liquid swirls with a flick of my wrist. I know the answer I should give as the Don of the mafia. Then there’s the answer I want to give. The De Luca family started this famiglia. My great grandfather was the first Don, my grandfather taking over after him, then my father, before the title passed down to me. The title is in my blood, it’s what I was groomed for since birth so the answer should be fucking easy. Nothing. She means nothing to me. Say it, De Luca. ‘She means nothing to me.’ But fuck if nothing comes out when I open my mouth to say those words, because it’s the furthest thing from the truth.

  I never knew how much was missing in my life until Klara Blouin and that fucking red dress.

  If I’m going to do what I’m about to then I need these men with me. There was supposed to be no secrets within the famiglia. They may look at me differently after this but I was still their Don and unless they wanted to be buried six feet under they will still carry out my orders.

  “How long have we known each other, Alessandro?”

  He shrugs, leaning back in his chair, hooking an ankle over his knee. “Since we were teenagers.”

  “Do you like being in this famiglia?”

  “Braxton…” Antonio cautions, but I hold up a finger, needing to hear Alessandro’s answer.

  “It’s the only family I know, Boss.”

  I nod and take a sip from the bourbon. “When I’m gone, the title will pass to you.”

  “Boss?” he questions, sitting up straighter in his seat and glancing between me and Antonio.

  “You’re my Capo. My second-in-command. No one else I trust more in this famiglia than you, Alessandro.”

  “Shouldn’t that honor go to your first-born son?”

  “There will be no son,” I reply, finishing my drink and getting up to pour another. “I’ll be trading myself for the girl.”

  “Boss?”

  “The fuck?”

  They both say in unison.

  “Dante has always been a jealous son of a bitch. Always wanting what doesn’t belong to him, what he can’t have. He wants to take me down, destroy the De Luca name, and at the expense of Klara’s life.” I turn around, my back toward my two best friends and confidants. “I will not allow that to happen. I’ll wager with him. My life for hers.”

  Antonio sighs from his position across the room. “He gets what he wants and you get to save her life.”

  “Si. But I’ll take him down with me. Klara is not safe in this world if he still breathes. Alessandro will be the new Don.”

  The room is silent, the only sound the liquid pouring into the glass in my hand.

  “Should we tell Gio?” Alessandro asks.

  I shake my head, still refusing to turn around and face them, not wanting to see the disappointment in their gaze. When did I become such a pussy? “No, the less who know of this plan the better.”

  “She really worth all this?
To give your life for?” Antonio asks, closer now.

  “She’s worth so much more.”

  Shuffling sounds behind me, a hand clasps each of my shoulders and then my office door opens and shuts allowing me to breathe a little easier without an audience to my demise.

  I let out a heavy breath, taking a seat behind the desk again and pick up the phone to make the call that will change everything. The call that will lead to my death.

  “I’m not giving myself up that easy, Cousin.” His voice sends my blood boiling, my hands clenching and unclenching in fists, wishing it was his neck I was squeezing the life from.

  “You feel like gambling, Dante?”

  “What are the stakes?”

  My fucking cousin. Never could resist a good wager. Money or death, he was addicted to both.

  “My life for the girl. You get to be at the top for once.”

  “As tempting as that sounds, you’re a little too late, Cuz. Made a pretty penny on that piece of ass. Can see why she caught your attention.”

  “Dante, I swear to all things holy I’ll rip your fucking throat out.” I seethe.

  “You were always all bark and no bite, De Luca.”

  Click.

  ***

  (Klara)

  “You sonofabitch! You lied to him!” I try twisting in my restraints but the rope burns against the sensitive flesh of my wrists. The muscles in my arms burn from being strung up like a cow at a butcher.

  “Lie is such an ugly word, Klara.” He taps his chin with a finger. “I prefer motivate.”

  “He’ll kill you.”

  A strong fist wraps around my hair, yanking my head back and I yelp from the pain. “Si, but he’ll have to find me first.” He trails a finger around the curve of my breast and I visibly shudder in disgust. “You see, I have someone on the inside. Someone who reports to me whenever De Luca gets too close. Someone who can take him out at any moment. So, his threats… mean nothing to me.”

  Dante’s fingers curl under the neckline of my thin tank top and pull until the material rips down the middle, leaving me completely naked from the waist up. My sleep shorts are the next to go, joining my tank top in a pile on the floor. His hand covering my mouth to keep my screams from being heard.