Taken by the Mafia Boss

by Chloe Fischer

  Yeah, coffee. Definitely.

  He made his way to the Keurig and managed to get a pod inside before leaning against the kitchen island and waiting for it to brew.

  Again, he was teased by the scent of Cara, and he frowned slightly.

  I should probably take a shower before I go.

  He made no move, his mind slowly clearing. Showering would have to wait. Tomas was on his way and whatever mess Nick was in needed attending.

  He had just savored his first sip of coffee when he heard the garage door open as Tomas let himself in. His godfather was still in his pajamas.

  “You could have put on pants,” Matteo grunted. “Even I’m wearing pants.”

  “And somehow you still look worse than me,” Tomas commented dryly. “What happened?”

  Matteo shrugged.

  “I have no idea. We need to get to—”

  He didn’t finish his sentence as the cell rang again.

  “Fucking Nick,” Matt grumbled. “What now?”

  “Are you coming?”

  There was no hiding the near panic in his voice, no illusion that the soldier was trying to keep it together.

  “I fucking said I was!” Matteo snapped. “I don’t need a reminder.”

  “You better hurry. The big boss heard what happened.”

  A prickle of uncertainty pierced Matteo’s body.

  “How the fuck can that be when I don’t know what happened?”

  “Matt, you need to—”

  “I’m on my way.”

  He ended the call and turned back to his coffee wistfully. It would have to go with them.

  “Come on,” he grumbled, although his pulse had quickened. “The kids need a babysitter.”

  The men started back through the garage and out to the driveway where Tomas had left Matteo’s BMW.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Coconut Grove.”

  Tomas eyed him questioningly.

  “The warehouse?”

  Matteo stifled a yawn and nodded.

  “Is someone dead?”

  Again, Matteo raised his shoulders although his gut told him the answer was a resounding “yes”. What else could it be? But the more important question was why Giovanni would know about it. Was the Don involved somehow?

  They were all questions which would have to wait until he arrived. They could not speak freely on the open airways. Matteo could never be certain when an overzealous DA would set his sights on the crime family, but it usually happened without warning, the wire taps and rats flowing from the woodwork.

  It took twenty minutes to reach their destination, a trip made in silence, each man lost in their own thoughts. But when the building loomed before them, they subconsciously straightened in their seats.

  “Can’t wait to see what shitshow is in there,” Matteo muttered and Tomas grunted.

  “Should I wait here?”

  Matteo thought quickly. Normally, he wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing his godfather along but if Giovanni was involved, he didn’t want to bring his godfather in unnecessarily.

  It has nothing to do with Tomas. He wouldn’t even be here if I could have avoided it.

  “I’ll stay here,” Tomas decided for him, and Matteo cast him a grateful look.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  He didn’t wait for a response as he slammed the passenger door behind him. Long strides took him to the door and he let himself inside where Nick was pacing back and forth, his swarthy face taut.

  “Holy shit!” he muttered. “You’re here!”

  “I said I was coming, didn’t I?”

  It was rhetorical but Nick managed to look abashed.

  “Who got popped?” The question was blunt and Matteo had prepared himself for the worst. The expression on Nick’s face told him his guess had been right.

  “Vito.”

  Cazzo! Not Vito!

  “How? Where is he?”

  Nick gestured for him to follow and Matteo wandered after the soldier, wracking his brain for what could have happened.

  “There was a video, sent anonymously. He was in the south end, picking up a small delivery and someone shot him. I went back to the docks but he was gone. I have no idea where he is now.”

  “Someone shot him? A video sent anonymously?” Matteo echoed, “What the fuck!” he cursed as Nick pulled up his laptop and showed the email he had received. None of it made sense. There was no reason for Vito to be on the south side. It wasn’t their territory to run. Could he have been there for a personal matter?

  Yet as he watched, there was something distinctly business-like about the way the soldier moved and the boat which approached the dock was unmistakably that of one of their runners.

  “What is this video?” Matteo asked in confusion. “Is this the CCV cam near the docks?”

  Nick nodded.

  “I think so.”

  Matteo moved his face closer to the picture, his mind racing. Vito stood on the pier and the speedboat neared but before it could dock, another figure appeared in the frame.

  “It ain’t pretty,” Nick muttered, turning his head away. “I ain’t gonna watch this again.”

  But Matteo continued to watch in sick fascination as the man approached his unsuspecting soldier.

  “How do you know Giovanni knows about this?”

  “He called me,” Nick muttered. “Asking if Vito was with me. He never calls me.”

  “He never called me,” Matteo commented, wondering if it had only been a coincidence. “Are you sure he knows?”

  “I think he knows something, Matt. Why else would he call at this hour?”

  Matteo had no answer but his attention was diverted back to the screen and he watched as the scene unfolded, his pulse quickening.

  The boat stopped in the water, feet away from its destination. Then, as if in slow motion, the anonymous figure’s hand rose, firing one shot to the back of Vito’s head. Even Matteo’s hardened stomach churned at the sight, as Vito’s lifeless body dropped to the pier

  The vessel whirled and disappeared from the screen, leaving the scene as quickly as it could. The assassin stood over Vito’s body for a moment, his face turned away from the camera. A wave of hot and cold washed over Matteo simultaneously as he realized he knew exactly who the killer was.

  With baited breath, Matteo waited for him to turn and face the camera, but he didn’t, instead slipping back out of the shot without ever showing his face. But Matteo didn’t need the confirmation of what he already knew.

  The shooter was undoubtedly Salvatore Vinucci.

  The question was why?

  Chapter Seven

  The dream was dreadful enough, but then the sound of loud voices roused her from sleep. Cara sat up with a start and looked around the bedroom, half-expecting to see men arguing at the foot of her bed.

  It didn’t take her long to realize that it was her brother’s gravelly voice reverberating through the walls of the house.

  Slowly, she moved her bare feet over the edge of the bed, her shapely calves exposed against the cooling air of the fall night. All the windows of her bedroom were open and the breeze was almost cold against her face when she rose, but Cara barely noticed.

  It was almost five a.m. but the sun hadn’t quite struggled over the horizon and Cara wondered what the hell was happening on the main floor at that hour of the morning.

  As she padded into the hall, Ginny appeared, looking as perplexed as she felt. Instantly, Cara tensed. She had no way of knowing exactly how much the maid knew about the business but she felt inherently protective of her brother in that moment.

  “What’s going on?” Ginny asked, rubbing her wide eyes.

  “Go back to bed,” Cara snapped. “There’s nothing that concerns you here.”

  Warily, Ginny eyed her but whatever she saw in Cara’s eye seemed to convince her that arguing wasn’t in her best interest and she returned to her bedroom at the end of the hall.

  It
was only when the door closed that Cara continued down the steps toward the main floor where the voices grew louder. They were speaking in Italian and it only took Cara another few seconds to recognize the voice of the other man.

  Oh my God. What is Matteo doing here?

  She crept along the steps, careful not to attract attention to herself and stood at the base of the stairs.

  “…get the fuck out of my house,” Salvatore shouted and Cara didn’t need to see his face to know it would be beet red with fury.

  “It’s not your house,” Matteo retorted evenly. “I think you better remember your fucking place here. It may have been different in Siena, Salvatore. You’re not a big fish here.”

  “It seems to me that you’re the one who needs to keep an eye on your shit.”

  Gooseflesh exploded on Cara’s arms. There was something sinister in his tone, something that sounded like a threat. She recognized the tone as dangerous, and hoped Matteo knew what he was dealing with.

  Wait a second – why would I care if Sal hurt Matteo? The bastard used me and then humiliated me tonight!

  “When Giovanni finds out what you did—”

  “Stronzo, you won’t tell him anything because it will make you look bad. Keep your boys off my territory and you won’t have any more problems,” Salvatore interjected. “Am I clear?”

  There was a long, heavy pause.

  “You’ll regret this,” Matteo swore. “Mark my words, you son of a bitch. This is war between us.”

  “Bring it on,” Salvatore scoffed. “You’re still the same little bitch I remember. What are you going to do? Go cry to your padrino like you did back home?”

  The cruel mockery in her brother’s voice sent chills of apprehension through Cara and she closed her eyes, not knowing what to expect next.

  She should have realized that Matteo wouldn’t take an insult like that and not retaliate. At least not the new Matteo, she thought mirthlessly. He seemed out for their blood, didn’t he?

  The crack of fists on flesh reverberated through the house, and she heard her brother’s swiftly indrawn breath, then the whispered sound of assumedly, her brother’s body sliding to the floor.

  The sound of footfalls made her realize that Matteo was headed toward her but there was nowhere to hide before he appeared in the foyer. Cara sank back against the wall and waited, holding her breath. His back was to her and he strode deliberately toward the door but abruptly stopped as if he could feel her eyes watching him.

  Slowly, he turned, his smouldering eyes boring into hers. They gazed at one another for a long moment and Cara would have given anything to know what he was thinking. His face betrayed none of the emotion she’d heard a minute earlier. In its place was a flat, stoic expression. It was clear his mind was racing behind those guarded irises, but with what thoughts, Cara couldn’t guess.

  “What happened?” she heard herself ask. She didn’t know why she’d bothered—he wasn’t going to sit around and discuss the matter with her, and certainly not when her brother was so close by. An indolent smile formed on his lips and Matteo shook his head.

  “Nothing, amore,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “Go back to sleep.”

  There was a strange tenderness in his tone which took her aback but also filled her with a strange warmth. He had a magnetic hold on her, one she didn’t quite understand but Cara didn’t want to question it. It was the closest feeling she’d had to safety in months. And wasn’t that just crazy, considering what happened between us earlier? she wondered, but before she could gather the courage to just ask him, Salvatore appeared.

  “Are you still here?” he growled, holding his ribs as he slowly moved closer. Just as the words left his lips, he noticed his sister lurking by the stairs. He spun to snarl at her, his teeth bared like he was some feral animal.

  “Go back to your room!” He barked. Cara could see the fury in her brother’s eyes and she glanced at Matteo nervously. He had refocussed his gaze on his new nemesis. She didn’t argue with Salvatore and slipped away from them, leaving them in a silent battle of wills.

  What the hell did Salvatore do? She wondered, climbing the stairs slowly. She hoped to hear more of what had transpired but a second later, the door opened and a breeze flitted up toward her, indicating that Matteo had left.

  At the top landing, she turned and looked down at her brother.

  “What did you do?” she demanded, no longer keeping her voice low. “Why is he here in the middle of the night?”

  “Not to fuck you again if that’s what you’re thinking,” Salvatore growled at her, and Cara’s face flushed.

  “Why was he here?” she insisted, ignoring his jibe. “What did you do, Salvatore?”

  “Carolina, this is not your business. You have one job and that’s staying the fuck out of trouble, something you’ve already managed to screw up. Go back to your room and keep your nose clean, you hear me? I haven’t told Papa what you did but when I do…”

  Cara’s mouth parted to protest but she knew there was no purpose in fighting with Salvatore. Moreover, she didn’t think he would make good on his threat to rat her out to their father. But if he did, God only knew where she would end up next.

  All because of a stupid misunderstanding. Even if what they thought happened, happened, we’re Italians! Why does the woman always have to suffer for the idiocies of the man?

  “Carolina! Go back to sleep!”

  She hadn’t realized she had drifted off in the memory. Without another word, she turned back and shut herself back in the bedroom, lost in thought.

  Clearly something had transpired between her brother and Matteo, something business related and deep. Cara knew it was none of her concern but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it had a lot more to do with her than she would like.

  Did Salvatore do something stupid in retaliation for Matteo’s punch earlier? Because it sure wasn’t to avenge her honor.

  The idea almost made her laugh. Salvatore would never believe that his sister had any honor. Not after what had happened in Italy.

  What they had called “The Affair” had lasted six months. In hindsight, Cara knew that she had only latched onto a friendship with Carmelo Rossi to irritate her father and brother. She had no romantic designs on the man.

  Theirs had become a relationship based purely on friendship, particularly when the underboss had developed a brain tumor which he wanted to keep hidden from everyone, lest his illness show weakness among his family and the familia.

  Everyone but me, Cara corrected herself bitterly, walking toward the window.

  Unwittingly, Cara had become Carmelo’s confident, his constant companion and the only one who knew about the man’s fate. It wasn’t only Carmelo that benefitted from the friendship. Cara was finally able to talk to someone about her frustrations with her father and brother, about the unfairness of life as a woman in their lifestyle. Carmelo listened to it all, and sympathized with her too.

  But the friendship was doomed from the start. It didn’t take long for rumors to start circulating, causing massive problems not only for Carolina but for the underboss also.

  There was a terrible scandal, one which Carmelo could have easily silenced, but his pride did not permit him to tell the truth. Someone of his standing, an older underboss in a powerful regime, would have lost face if people found out he valued Carolina as a friend. Everyone assumed there was an affair happening, and Carmelo didn’t deny it. So instead, Cara was painted as some homewrecking harlot even though she and the older man had never so much as held hands. In the end, Carmelo didn’t lose face at all. He didn’t lose anything, actually. But Cara lost everything.

  There was a deep and bitter loneliness which followed losing her companion, but that was nothing compared to what happened afterward, the blame and shaming in their small community all falling directly on her head.

  As if I would ever sleep with a married man! Idiots!

  But not one person asked her side of it. Not e
ven her father and brother. Especially her father and brother.

  To her knowledge, after the incident, Carmelo was regarded as a Casanova, scoring the young, hot daughter of one of his capos. She was the slut, the morally-depraved Jezebel. No one cared about the truth, and Cara did not push to tell it. It would be her word against the underboss’ and she had already seen how that worked. She could only keep her mouth shut, and accept her fate.

  Her brother and father kept her under house arrest and out of the public eye until the day that the call came from America and Salvatore was promoted from soldieri to capo—in another country.

  Of course, it was damage control, but it was far too late for that. Cara’s reputation had been sullied beyond repair. She was given no choice but to go with her brother to Miami and start anew. It didn’t matter what she wanted.

  I’m just a lowly woman, unworthy to make decisions but apparently capable of casting a spell on men and causing them to stray from their wives. What a bunch of horseshit. Nice double standard. I’m either powerful or I’m worthless. They can’t have it both ways.

  The glass overlooked the circular drive and she leaned forward as she saw Matteo pausing at his BMW. Even from this distance, she could see the tension in his shoulders, the fury on his face. The desire to know what had happened overwhelmed her.

  Once more, he seemed to sense her eyes upon him and his head moved up to meet her gaze at the window.

  The feeling of electricity which seemed to accompany his penetrating looks was becoming familiar and for a moment, Cara permitted the fusion of energy and arousal to wash through her.

  The light of dawn broke slowly, turning the grey night into a sooty morning but Cara was too entranced in the charcoal of his eyes to notice much else.

  A shiver of excitement slithered down her spine and she offered him a timid smile, raising her hand to wave at him.

  Would he come back in here if I asked him? She wondered, biting on her lower lip. He raised his hand in a mocking salute and Cara felt her breaths quicken, a splash of heat gracing her crotch.

  My God! What is it about him that gets me so wet? Even from here?