King's Captive: A Dark Mafia Romance

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King's Captive: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 4

by Piper Stone


  There was a hint of surprise in the Russian’s single ragged breath. The truth was, Ricardo could prove to be useful in the future, but only if he reestablished his alliance with the King family.

  “Whatever you say,” Dimitri grunted.

  As the driver rolled into the city limits, I allowed the luminous lights of the city to power my increasing desire.

  One of power.

  One of anger.

  And more important, one of possession.

  I rubbed my index finger back and forth across my lips, still able to savor the few minutes with Emily. She had no idea what was in store for her, the dark hungers that would be fulfilled. She would learn soon enough what kind of man had captured her.

  Only minutes later, the driver pulled the vehicle to the curb, as usual, keeping the engine idling.

  There was no need for instruction. All the soldiers were aware of what was required of them. As I exited the vehicle, I adjusted my jacket, drinking in the sights of the beloved city I’d missed so much. Even the stench of Italian food invigorated my senses, igniting another level of fire. This was a very good day.

  Dimitri trailed behind me as I took long strides, moving into the restaurant. As soon as I entered, the terrified looks of the employees’ faces gave me a smile. At least I hadn’t been forgotten. There was no need to brandish a weapon, no desire to destroy the location. They were merely unwitting citizens who’d worked alongside a worthless pig.

  I slapped my hand against the set of double steel doors, moving into the kitchen. Within seconds, the majority of the cooks scuttled away like rats, their faces highlighting the terror in their minds. Only the asshole in question didn’t run away. He was smart enough to realize there was nowhere on this planet where he could hide from me.

  The steam from various pots still burning on the stove added an interesting atmosphere, the heat in the kitchen oppressive. I scanned the area as Dimitri flanked my side, noticing the fascinating looking knife sharpener attached to one of the steel tables, a large butcher knife remaining in place. I took two additional steps into the room, finally turning my attention toward Ricardo.

  He’d eased against another counter, his face completely devoid of any expression, yet drained of all color.

  “Mr. King,” he said, with a cough afterwards.

  “I assume you didn’t expect to see me any time soon,” I said quietly, moving closer to the knife-sharpening implement.

  “I… Well, I heard the news,” he said, darting his eyes from Dimitri then back to me, terror riding his face. “It’s good you’re out of prison, Mr. King.”

  Dimitri chuckled behind me, shifting closer.

  “Ah, you watch the news. Good for you. It’s necessary to be informed as to the events occurring in our beautiful city. Don’t you think so?” I asked casually as I studied the instrument, smiling before lifting the arm holding the sharpening stone, sliding it across the edge of the blade. When he said nothing, I lifted my head, locking eyes with his.

  “Yes… Yes, sir,” Ricardo said, his entire body shaking.

  I continued sharpening the knife, savoring the sound of the stone as it sliced across the razor edge. Even in the ridiculous lighting swinging from the ceiling, I could tell the blade had already been sharpened to utter precision.

  “I knew you would think so,” I stated, taking a few additional seconds to perfect my sharpening skills before shifting my full attention in his direction for a few seconds. “I learned a long time ago that a sharp knife produces the best results while a dull knife is much more dangerous.” I continued swinging the arm back and forth, the swishing sound echoing in the room. As I concentrated on my actions, my thoughts shifted to the shank I’d sharpened on a craggy edge of the cell I’d spent the majority of my time in. The piece had come into play more than once, likely saving my life.

  Swish.

  Swish.

  Swish.

  A single extremely strangled moan pulsed from the asshole’s throat.

  After a few seconds, I released my hold, standing back to study the reflection of the smooth edge. “That’s perfect. A magnificent cutting tool. I’m certain you understand and appreciate the technique.” I couldn’t help but notice the other cooks had left the room, scuttling out the back door, likely terrified for their lives. “Answer me!”

  “Yes!” Ricardo barked. “Absolutely. Sir.”

  As I rounded the corner of the table, he bristled, his hand clinging to the edge of the counter he was standing against.

  “There’s no reason to be afraid, Ricardo. I only came here to talk. So, why don’t you relax?”

  He attempted to give me a smile, his body slumping. “I’m really sorry, Mr. King. I had no other choice.”

  “No other choice. We all have choices, Ricardo. While some decisions we make can be difficult, even gut-wrenching, it’s all about free will. Unfortunately, you made the wrong one.” I gave him one of my full smiles before brushing off whatever food debris he’d gotten on his shirt. Then I took a step away, continuing to study the cramped space. So many businesses had suffered, the majority failing after the horrific hurricane years before. It was good to see a local establishment thriving.

  I made it a point in my mind to visit the facility at some point in the future.

  “But… No, that’s not always true, Mr. King.”

  “Hmmm… How so, Ricardo? Didn’t you act alone, determined to bring down the King family? Didn’t you alert the authorities that I had certain… business to attend to that night over a year ago?”

  Ricardo swallowed hard, his eyes glazing over. “But that wasn’t my idea.”

  “Ah. We’re getting somewhere. Then whose idea was it?”

  He shook his head vigorously, panting like some unwanted dog. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Can’t or you won’t?” I eased my hand around his throat, merely holding my fingers in place. “I have faith in you, Ricardo. I think… no, I am certain you want to tell me who set me up on that wretched stormy night. Don’t you?”

  I could actually hear his teeth chattering as he struggled with providing the needed information. While I wasn’t a patient man on any level, I’d realized moments after my arrest that a pig like Ricardo hadn’t initiated the bust. He simply wasn’t intelligent enough.

  Gasping for air, he tried to stand as tall as possible, daring to keep eye contact. “I do, but…”

  Squeezing my fingers was such a joy, my heart racing from the prospects of the future. “I feel in a very generous mood tonight, Ricardo. I’m giving you one last chance to confess your sins, but I assure you that there will not be another.”

  “Okay. Yes. I will.”

  “Good boy,” I said and released my hold, patting his face.

  “Mr. Vendez. Okay?” Ricardo barely managed to get the words out before shifting into a coughing fit, his chest heaving.

  “Vendez?”

  “Enrique Vendez. I don’t know anything other than a name. I received instructions along with a threat if I didn’t do exactly what was on the piece of paper, he’d hurt my wife and kid. He just wanted me to follow you and when you showed up at the restaurant, to call the authorities.”

  The method was not something the Azzurris would do. What concerned me the most was how the mystery player had learned any of my plans in the first place.

  “Enrique Vendez,” I repeated, giving Dimitri a look, the Russian shaking his head. It was a name I wasn’t familiar with, although I certainly wasn’t going to show any weakness to the little pig who’d dared cross me. I’d known all the players over the years, the assholes who tried to slither into our world, taking what my family had worked for generations to achieve. I took a full step back, keeping the smile on my face. “Let me get this straight, Ricardo. You followed orders from a man who only has a name?”

  “Yes. Yes, sir. You don’t understand. There were pictures of my family. Where my wife works, the daycare. Billy’s school. I had no other choice.”

  “Well,
protecting our families is very important. Has he contacted you since?”

  “No. I swear to God. Nothing. I will tell you this, he’s not a good person, Mr. King. I heard that on the street.”

  Not a good person. It would seem that Ricardo had forgotten exactly what I was made of. “I understand. I really do. There are some people on this earth that allow us to see the worst in mankind. Mr. Vendez is sadly one of those people.” He said nothing as I took two steps away, but I could still hear his ragged breathing as well as his hammering heartbeat. “What else have you heard?”

  “Na… Nothing, really, Mr. King.” Ricardo was sweating profusely. “He’s like some freaking ghost.”

  No one was able to disappear that easily.

  “Okay. I believe you. So, here’s how we’re going to play this, Ricardo.”

  I gave Dimitri a look, lifting a single eyebrow. My Capo was well aware of my usual tactics in handling scum like Ricardo. Tonight, I’d take a different stance. There could be certain opportunities afforded to me by keeping the pig alive.

  “Yes… Yes, sir?” Ricardo struggled to say.

  “You’re going to resume working for me, although things are going to be entirely different.”

  “Yes. Yes, sir!” I could hear such relief in the asshole’s voice.

  “That means you will do exactly as I order you to do. Any variance and there won’t be enough of you left to find. Are you feeling me, Ricardo?” I shifted toward the knife, running my finger across the blade. Instantly, a trickle of blood appeared on the tip. I held my hand into the light, allowing the stream to flow. “You do understand that. Correct?”

  “Yes. Absolutely, sir.”

  “Excellent. I want you to find out everything you can about this Mr. Vendez. I don’t care how small it is. You’re going to answer your phone when I call and you will meet with me, providing that information. Am I clear?”

  “Yes. Without question, sir.”

  “Fantastic. Then I think we’ve concluded our business today.” I slipped my finger into my mouth, relishing the coppery taste. I could still hear the worthless fuck trying to control his breathing.

  As I moved toward the set of double doors, I exhaled then shifted toward Dimitri. “I think you know what to do from here. Ricardo needs to be taught a very valuable lesson.” I pushed open the door, thought about the man’s consequences then turned once again toward my Capo, lifting my hand and spreading two fingers.

  Dimitri nodded, a gleam in his eyes.

  “No. No! Please!” Ricardo exclaimed just as I walked out. There was barely any noise in the crowded restaurant, the customers as well as the wait staff doing their best to keep their distance. I walked toward the front door, stopping long enough to hear an anguished cry.

  The asshole was lucky I’d allowed him to live.

  Chapter 4

  Cristiano

  Dangerous.

  Merciless.

  Heartless.

  The epitome of the King family.

  We’d descended from generations of powerful men, our ancestors basic bootleggers during the prohibition. My great-grandfather had been considered a brutal man, raising his two sons to follow in his footsteps. The family’s control over the city had erupted in violence more than once, several enemies learning early on that they were no match for my great-grandfather’s influence.

  He’d learned the art of collecting allies, utilizing both threats as well as promises. Fortunately, my father and his father before him had perfected the art, passing down their lessons learned.

  Sometimes the hard way.

  With four younger brothers and one incorrigible sister, I knew my parents must have had their hands full. While my father had always been a brutal man, his love rarely shown, our beloved mother had ensured that we’d grown up as normally as possible.

  Give or take a few exceptions.

  I smirked at the thought as I headed into my father’s beautiful estate, the mansion-style house one of the most magnificent in the Garden District of New Orleans. My mother’s pride and joy were her gardens, her plants and flowers attended to on a daily basis. Teresa King had perfected the art of ignoring the violence created and often pursued by my father, attending the various neighborhood soirees even though the majority of women were terrified of her.

  That was the power of our reign over the city.

  As far as my siblings, they were products of wealth and learned class, three of my brothers accepting positions within my father’s organization without question. However, Dante was several years younger than the others, pretending that our reputation couldn’t rub off on his aspirations. He’d even joined the military in an attempt to rid himself of the stigma attached to belonging to a mafia family.

  I’d heard enough even behind the thick walls of my prison cell to know he hadn’t been successful. He’d been tormented by his superiors, as if they had no idea what kind of fury could befall them given their blatant stupidity. If my mother’s last letter held merit, he would soon reenter the family he had so blatantly left behind.

  Then there was my sister, sweet and gullible Angelique. As the baby in the family, she continued to pretend that she was the princess my mother had always referred to her as. While I adored her without question, I knew in my gut it was only a matter of time before one of our enemies attempted to use her in whatever means they believed would help them accomplish their goals.

  Destroying our kingdom.

  That would never happen.

  My thoughts drifted to Emily, the taste of blood still remaining in my mouth. She’d attempted to defy me, refusing to accept her fate. Vile thoughts of exactly what I was going to do to her entered my mind, unfurling like a very special Christmas present.

  “Is there anything I should know, Dimitri?” I asked, hesitating before walking in through the front door.

  “Nothing you can’t handle, boss.”

  He rarely called me boss, something he’d refused to do from day one of being hired. If any of the other soldiers had dared to confront me in that manner, they would have found themselves on the receiving end of my fist. However, the arrogance in the stocky Russian had been exactly what I was looking for. We’d developed a pseudo friendship after that, although the men I considered true friends I could list on a portion of one hand. He’d earned the right to call me by my first name several years before, his loyalty rewarded with the top-level position as well as the salary to go with it. I was curious as to why he’d picked this moment to use the word.

  I chuckled and smoothed down the jacket. I’d be glad to take a hot shower, one where I didn’t have to keep a shank by my side.

  “And my father?”

  When Dimitri hesitated, I cringed.

  “Just tell me his condition.”

  “He’s doing as well as can be expected. Some good days, some bad days.” Dimitri was holding back.

  “The wound?” I asked, the attempt on my father’s life something I would never forget. Revenge would be sweet, although given my circumstances, I would need to be careful how I handled that… event.

  “He’s lucky, at least that’s what the doctors told him. No lasting physical effects.”

  Lucky. Yes, I suppose remaining alive after four of our soldiers had been gunned down, their bullet-riddled bodies displayed on the front of every state newspaper, splashed across both local and national stations could be considered lucky.

  I’d grill him further later. Right now wasn’t the time and I was certainly in no mood. As far as the information about Mr. Vendez, I would wait to mention it until I had more. There was no sense in getting the entire family riled.

  Yet.

  Sighing, I thought about the difficult weeks or even months ahead. While I was fully prepared to take complete control over our businesses and our finances, it wouldn’t be the same without my father attempting to assert his authority. I would remember that in a bittersweet manner in the years to come.

  Dimitri trailed behind me as I walked into
the house. Very little if anything had changed, except for the bouquet of fresh flowers my mother insisted be maintained in her favorite crystal vase on the glass table positioned in the center of the foyer. This time, they were white roses, my mother’s favorite. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were meant as a telling statement, her attempt at begging for peace.

  I walked toward the exquisite crystal piece, taking a deep whiff, the sounds of activity floating into the room. Easily able to recognize the voices, it appeared the entire family had been convened in celebration of my release.

  Or perhaps condemnation.

  My father had expressed his anger during the few minutes we’d been able to spend together after my initial arrest, the man barely breathing from his hospital bed. I’d almost gone off the edge then, ordering full retaliation. Sadly, my arrest had complicated matters. No longer. My calculated plan would eliminate a significant chunk of our true enemy. But my father’s heart condition was just another layer of concern. If his health was failing, it was yet another excuse that could be used by the Azzurri family. Complete protection of our family unit was definitely in order.

  Family would always come first.

  I swaggered into the family room, much like I’d done the last time I was here, taking long strides toward the bar. For at least ten precious seconds, there was no sound in the room, all chatter and bickering ceasing. I even managed to pour a drink before I heard the sound of Vincenzo’s booming laughter.

  “You know how to make an entrance, brother,” Vincenzo said, still chuckling under his breath.

  After taking a sip, I turned around, grinning at the group. Only Lucian seemed displeased at my arrival, although Michelangelo appeared distanced. He loathed his given name, using Michael instead, another one of my mother’s irritants.

  “I’m so glad you’re home,” my mother said as she approached, wrapping her arms around me. Her somewhat unusual display of emotions threw me off. “How are you, son? Did they treat you badly?”

 

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