Coveted: Men of Mayhem: Book Two

by Luciani, Kristen

  Nobody ever sees it coming, though.

  And I really hope that’s the guy who came to play tonight. I need that version of my brother.

  Tommy is ahead of me, poking his head around the back of the house. I pick up the pace and jog toward him when I see one single car parked next to the house. That’s the only sign that someone might be inside.

  Or at least, someone wants us to think they’re inside.

  My throat tightens, ears struggling to hear any far-off sounds. I pull out one of my guns, gripping the handle tight.

  Tommy quirks an eyebrow at you. “Relax, Ant. You’re wound so fucking tight right now, you’re gonna start crapping diamonds.”

  “I don’t like this, Tommy.”

  “No kidding,” he replies, his own gun in hand. “But we made the drive, so we may as well go inside, you know? Shoot up some shit? Take what we came for? Maybe grab a beer while we’re at it?”

  “I’m gonna need a case after we’re done here,” I grumble. “I hate running these jobs when we’re not the ones with the intel. I’m not a fucking errand boy anymore.” I say these words, but the ones that are stalled on my lips are the ones about how I just pray Julia is alive and safe.

  Because even if she decided she didn’t want me, the world needs her.

  “Nah, you’re a serious businessman now,” Tommy quips with a roll of his eyes. “With clubs and pussy and guns.” He pulls out a gun and cocks it, pointing it up to the sky. “But tonight we’re here to do a favor. So don’t choke on your panties, okay? We’ll be in and out and you’ll be back to your ‘business’ soon enough.”

  He makes jokes about it, but the longer I’m away, the more I wonder about what the hell is going on back in Palermo. With us here and Alek and Cristian in Monaco, that leaves Diego and Vince in Sicily.

  Vince, my oldest brother, is still trying to pick up the pieces of our family businesses since Pop was killed. He’s the head, the boss, the one who gives the orders and rarely carries them out. Vince has always been more of the negotiator, the guy who makes the plans…not the one to execute, but always the one to hammer you into the ground for not doing it the way he intended.

  And Diego…he’s got his hands full with his growing event planning company and with his girlfriend, Serena. Although I’m damn sure if he thought there was even the slightest chance he could take an ice pick to Nic Fortunato’s head, he’d come faster than a teenaged boy having sex for the first time.

  I don’t have a lot of confidence that either one of my brothers gives a damn about what’s happening at my nightclub, even though they’ve got guys there, watching over things. Hell, I’ve got my own guys handling the small stuff, but it’s the big shit that has me on edge.

  The shit that represents a lot of money to my organization and the people who’ll do anything to get their hands on it.

  Without me as the gatekeeper, who the hell is gonna stick their neck out to protect the goddamn kingdom?

  Tommy picks a lock on the back door and manages to get it open within seconds. He pushes open the door quietly and I hold my breath, praying that it doesn’t creak, alerting whoever is in here that they have unexpected guests. We creep into a darkened space and I swallow a groan, the stench is so powerful. Bile rises to my throat as we walk farther into the house.

  “Jesus Christ,” Tommy whisper-moans. “What the fuck died down here?”

  I shine the light from my phone on the floor so we can step around the dead rats that litter the floor.

  I suspect it’s not just rats that are rotting, but I don’t really want to take time out to do a body count. This place has been abandoned for years, and God only knows how many times it’s been used for a dumping ground in between. “Just keep moving,” I say, covering my nose as I talk. There is a staircase at the far end of the space and we walk quickly in its direction, trying like hell to escape the above-ground cemetery scattered around our feet. We sidestep large, darkened forms, gagging all the way.

  “This is a new suit,” Tommy grumbles. “If I’d known we were gonna be swimming in fucking body rot, I’d have worn a different one. You can’t get this stink out of fabric.”

  I roll my eyes, not answering because I don’t even want to open my mouth, much less breathe deeper than the shallow breaths I’m taking.

  We take the stairs one at a time, just to make sure there are no telltale creaks alerting whomever that we’ve invaded.

  Still to be determined.

  Tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickle and goosebumps pop up along my arms. The only chill I feel stems from the unknown that awaits us at the top of the stairs.

  “Take it slow,” I mumble.

  “Hey, Mr. I Need To Be In Control Of Every Fucking Thing In My Life, I’ve got it.”

  “You’re gonna get it if you’re not careful.”

  We reach the top of the staircase and step into a dimly lit foyer. It’s dark, foreboding, and eerie as hell. Like some serious shit went down here at some point. I can actually feel the negative energy swirling around us, and I don’t usually believe in that garbage. But it’s hard to ignore.

  Like the stench of death in the basement.

  My heart clenches.

  Don’t let it be Julia. Don’t let her be a victim of whatever the hell war these motherfuckers are fighting.

  We each take a corner and creep into different rooms. I head left, sliding my back around a corner wall, pointing my gun into the darkness. The air is cool and damp and an icy sensation slithers through me as I inch forward, holding my breath.

  My hand finds a light switch and I flick it on, poised to pounce.

  Empty.

  There are no bodies.

  There is no blood.

  There’s only silence.

  And in this case, it sure as fuck ain’t golden.

  A sudden and haunting melody pierces the air, and I jump, holding my gun toward the door. Tommy pokes his head inside of the room.

  “You hear that?” he whispers.

  I nod toward another staircase leading upstairs. “Let’s go.”

  I lead the way this time, legitimately afraid Tommy’ll get clipped because he runs into things like a fucking bat outta hell, and I don’t want to be the ones caught by surprise. For all I know, the music started once we broke in.

  It may be a warning.

  It may be an invitation.

  Either way, my controlling ass is taking the lead.

  The music continues, heavy and depressed notes becoming faster and more powerful as they float through the air, likened to a melodic plea of desperation.

  It’s her. Julia. The emotion and energy that captivated me while we were together in the airport…it’s almost like she’s channeling every bit of it through her fingers as she pulls the bow over the violin strings.

  “She’s here,” I croak, my heart thudding with each step we take. “She’s alive!”

  “Are you just gonna stand here, or are we gonna get her the hell out of this place?” Tommy grunts in a loud whisper, pushing me aside.

  A loud groan travels from the upstairs landing, and Tommy and I exchange a look. It’s not an I’m in pain kind of groan. It’s more a Fuck, that’s good groan.

  Either way, I don’t like it.

  We reach the top of the stairs, low to the ground. We inch toward a partially open doorway and the groan morphs into a series of short, sharp pants.

  The music intensifies as Julia’s fingers work the bow, reaching the crescendo of whatever classical piece she’s playing. And right across from her is Elia Fortunato, holding a gun pointed right at her head, buck naked and rubbing one out as she plays.

  “Jesus Christ, that sick fuck,” I mutter.

  Julia’s shoulders tremble, her cheeks streaked with tears. But her hand never wavers. She plays as if she’s on stage in a standing-room-only crowd, not like she has a psycho bastard pervert threatening her life as he jerks himself off.

  I swallow hard, my pulse throbbing forcefully in my throat
.

  Labored breaths slice through my lungs and in my red-tinged view, I imagine taking my knife to Elia’s cock, slashing his balls and then his throat for laying a finger on Julia.

  I’d heard Elia was on the verge of snapping.

  The only kind of snapping I’m interested in right now is of the neck variety.

  Tommy mumbles something to me as I creep closer to the room. My focus is on Elia and thoughts of all else fade to the background. I straighten up, my gun clenched in my clammy hand.

  We get one shot at this.

  We miss, and Julia dies.

  I line up my shot, pointing it at Elia’s temple, but I’m not close enough. The bastard is on the opposite side of the room, and I need to get farther in if I have a shot.

  No pun intended.

  “Fuck, Julia,” Elia moans. “Oh fuck, I’m so close…”

  She continues to play, the sound echoing in the space and making Elia stroke himself harder and faster.

  I take a deep breath and charge at him.

  Squeak, squeak, squeak!

  “Ahh!” Tommy yells from the hallway. A loud thud rumbles the scuffed floorboards as Tommy crashes into a wall.

  Dammit!

  Elia’s eyes fly open as he leaps off the couch, his gun now pointed at me as I stumble forward on a corner of the area rug. I dove to the floor as Tommy spews expletives at the large rat that decided to join our impromptu party. Gunshots explode into the air as I roll out of his aim and against a thick column. I fire off a couple of shots, plugging holes into the wall and not Elia’s chest as I’d planned.

  “Ant! Get Julia!” Tommy yells, back on his feet and barreling into the room, firing both of his guns in Elia’s direction. He dodges shots, diving to the floor and aiming upward.

  I rush toward Julia, barely acknowledging the fact that, she too, is naked. I pull her against me and push her out of the room.

  She shivers, covering as much of herself as possible with her arms. “Antonio?” she whispers, her eyes disbelieving. “Oh my God, h-how did you find me?” she weeps, her teeth chattering. “How could you possibly know…?” She crumbles to the floor, gasping for air, the sobs wracking her body.

  I shrug off my jacket and drape it around her. “Look, I know you’re scared but there’s no time for me to explain right now. You’re safe, okay? Just get downstairs while we take care of Elia.” I give her a gentle shove when she remains rooted to the spot. “I promise, it’s going to be fine.”

  Her choked cries shatter my heart, but there’s no time to comfort her when my brother is on his own holding off that crackpot. More gunfire erupts and Tommy taunts Elia as he fires.

  “What’s the matter, Fortunato? You can’t find a woman who wants to put her hands on your shriveled-up pencil dick so you gotta kidnap one to get the job done?”

  “Fuck you!” Elia thunders, throwing a lamp at my brother’s head. He ducks behind a long couch and picks up a different gun with a full clip. He takes a few more shots as Tommy takes off full-speed in his direction.

  “Goddammit, Tommy! You’re blocking my shot!” I yell.

  Tommy jumps into the air and kicks out his feet, sending Elia flying into a back wall with a resounding thud.

  “Take it now!” he screams as more bullets crack into the air.

  I empty my clip as Tommy lands on the floor.

  And stays there.

  Not moving.

  “Tommy!” I scream, tossing my gun aside at the same time as Elia.

  Tommy’s gun lays a few feet away from him and the pool of blood spreading underneath him, seeping into the carpet. I launch myself at Elia, my hands clenched around his neck as I pound him with my fists. “You sick motherfucker! You’re fucking dead!”

  Elia smiles, a drizzle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. “No. But he definitely is,” he hisses. “I’ve been waiting for you, Antonio. I knew you’d come. I smelled your cheap cologne the second you entered this house. And I vowed to make you pay for your sins when you did. You killed my sister.”

  “She was as much of a crazy fucking bitch as you are and she deserved to die!” I scream. I claw at his face, grabbing a nearby lamp and smashing it on top of him, my voice shaking with a combination of panic, rage, and fear.

  He uses his weight to push against me, his face scratched up and bleeding from the shards of porcelain slicing into his skin. But he barely flinches.

  True crazy really doesn’t feel pain.

  I roll off of him, yanking him back by the hair and slamming his head repeatedly into a table leg, my eyes darting in all directions for some other weapon to pummel him with, but other than Tommy’s gun, I can’t come up with anything besides my fists.

  I smash one right into the side of Elia’s jaw and he launches at me, throwing his whole weight against me as we tumble over the back of a couch, fists flying, legs flailing. But I can’t get leverage enough to grab my knife. He’s too close and my arms are fighting like hell to keep my skull intact.

  I need Tommy’s gun!

  We struggle for a few more seconds, my fingers finding the violin bow.

  I pull back my arm and stab him in the eye with the tip.

  With every bit of strength I have.

  He screams like a bitch, staggering around the room, his hand gripping the makeshift weapon. Blood pours from his eye, streaming down his face and drizzling down the front of his bare chest.

  Then he turns to look at me with his one working eye and smiles, yanking the bow out of the other one.

  In that second, he looks every bit like the goddamn lunatic that he is, closing the space between us and flinging the bow to the floor. “You think I can’t beat you with only one eye, Antonio?” he seethes. “You think you came here to claim another prize?” He lumbers toward me and I close my fingers around the knife in my back pocket only to find out it must have slipped out during the firefight.

  “She’s not your prize,” I hiss, lunging toward Elia, tackling him to the floor. I grab a nearby vase and smash it against the side of his head. His body goes limp, his arms falling to his sides.

  Thank fuck.

  And then, “Antonio!”

  A piercing shriek jolts me and I twist to see Julia bent over Tommy, trying to find a pulse. “He’s alive,” she weeps, her hand over his heart. “But there’s so much blood. He needs a doctor.”

  Elia escapes my grip, clutching his bloody eye as I run over to my brother.

  Tommy moans and his eyes flutter open. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I can’t believe you shot me, Ant.”

  “I didn’t shoot you, dumbass. Elia did.” I check him for any other wounds, but he’s clear. I scrub a hand down the front of my face and let out a shuddering sigh. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, running in here like that.”

  “I was trying to distract Tall, Dark, and Psychotic so you could save your girl,” he mumbles, clutching a hand to the torn fabric of his suit jacket. “Jesus Christ, Ant! I told you I love this suit! You fucking shot me and ruined my favorite Armani!”

  “Are you fucking delirious? I growl. “Screw the suit! We need to get the hell out of here!”

  “Where’s Elia? Did you kill him? Tell me you sliced off his balls.”

  “I poked out his eye and then knocked him out with a vase. Come on, we need to get the hell out of here before he wakes up!” I slip my arms under Tommy’s back and try to lift him. “Does that hurt?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Like trying to shove a pencil in my dick.”

  Julia gasps and shudders against me. “Jesus,” she mutters.

  I smirk at her. “Sorry. There really aren’t words for this guy.”

  Her lips quiver like she’s trying to smile. “Hey,” I whisper. “You’re safe. We’ve got you, okay?”

  She nods, her green eyes pooling with tears. They’re dull and lifeless, nothing like the sparkling ones I saw at the airport.

  All because of the Fortunato family.

  As if they haven’t taken enough
, they stole her spirit, too.

  I grab a sheet from the bed and drape it around Julia’s quivering shoulders to keep her warm. My eyes fall to the violin on the floor and without a second thought, I grab that, too. “I told you to stay downstairs.”

  “I know, but I was scared.”

  “Isn’t scared better than potentially dead?”

  “Um, I hate to interrupt, but are you gonna get me up or do I need to do that myself, too?” Tommy grunts.

  “Well, since you got yourself shot in the first place…”

  He flips me off. “Get me to the Doc.”

  I shoot off a text to Doc Milo, an old family friend not far from here. The one person I can trust here in Rome.

  I pull Tommy off of the floor, careful not to jostle his shoulder. He makes a mock gagging sound once he’s on his feet. “Ant, what the fuck did you eat tonight? Rotten eggs?”

  I furrow my brow. “I haven’t eaten any—” I take in a sharp breath before the words are out of my mouth.

  “Guys?” Julia asks. “Do you smell something weird?”

  Shit.

  “Goddammit!” I yell, slinging an arm around Tommy’s waist and hoisting him onto my hip. “We need to get out of here now!”

  “What about—?” Tommy turns his head toward the now-empty spot where I gouged out Elia’s eye.

  “Fuck!” he exclaims. “Ant, what the hell? You let him get away! Why weren’t you watching him?”

  “Because I was busy making sure you were alive, jerkoff!” I struggle to get him down the stairs with Julia on my other side. “Whatever you do, just don’t make a ca—”

  Too goddamn late.

  Tommy hits the green call button before I can finish my warning and the noxious smell intensifies throughout the house. I rush them both out the front door which thankfully was unlocked. “We have to run, guys! Just go and don’t stop for a single sec—”