by L A Cotton
Angel of Tears
A Verona Legacy Short Story
L A Cotton
Contents
Verona Legacy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
About the Author
Published by Delesty Books
ANGEL OF TEARS
Copyright © L A Cotton 2020
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
Edited by Andrea M Long
Cover Designed by Lianne Cotton
Image Licensed from Adobe Stock and Shutterstock
Verona Legacy
Angel of Tears
Prince of Hearts
King of Souls
Villain of Secrets
Savior of Regrets
Chapter 1
Matteo
“Sorry I’m late.” I jogged over to my cousins, running a hand through my hair. Fat drops of rain sprayed everywhere. A storm was blowing in, a river of water already gushing down the street.
“Let me guess, Bella giving you shit again?” Enzo asked.
“Nah, she had some homework...”
“You’re a good brother, Matt.” Nicco clapped me on the back. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
We slipped past the two burly men guarding the door and entered the club. No one batted an eyelid except the bartender, who waved us over. DiMarco’s wasn’t the kind of place they let just anyone through the door.
“Would you get a load of that?” Enzo let out a low whistle, flicking his head to the circular stage in the center of the room. The girl flicked long, wavy dark hair off her shoulder as she shimmied around the pole, working her body into angles that should have been impossible.
“We’re not here to play.” Nicco cut Enzo with a hard look. “Keep your dick in your pants, capisci?”
“Yeah, yeah. But it doesn’t hurt to look.” He smirked.
He was right. She was hard not to look at, her body slim and toned. Legs that went on for miles. But it was her face, the way it was obscured by a filigree eye mask, that really piqued my interest. I wanted to know who she was... and what she was hiding.
Forcing myself to look away, I rolled my shoulders back. This wasn’t a guys’ night out, it was business, and I knew better than to let myself be distracted by a piece of hot ass.
I needed to keep my head in the game.
We all did.
Nicco led us across the room, pausing at the end of the bar. “Is Zander in?” he asked the bartender.
“Back there.” The guy flicked his head to the black door framed by dark purple velvet curtains. The whole place was opulent, as if guys came here with their fat wallets and seedy desires for the décor. I snorted.
Nicco pulled back the curtain and disappeared into the dark abyss. “What?” Someone grunted. “Oh, shit. Nicco, my man, I didn’t realize it was you.”
“Zander,” my cousin replied coolly. “We’re here to collect.”
Zander sat back in his leather chair and ran a hand over his jaw. “About that...”
“No excuses.” Nicco slid his hand inside his jacket. “You and I both know we’re not leaving here without what you owe...”
The temperature in the room dropped. Niccolò Marchetti might only have been nineteen like me and Enzo, but age was just a number when you were the son of the boss.
Zander stared up at him as if he were weighing up his options, which was pretty fucking ironic since he had none.
You either paid up or you paid the price.
In our business, it was that fucking simple.
“Don’t keep me waiting,” Nicco ground out. Enzo twitched at his other side, no doubt itching for a fight. He was my cousin, my brother in all the ways that counted, but he was a loose fucking cannon. Me, I preferred it when things went smoothly, and we avoided bloodshed.
My father said it was my weakness. That I was a soft touch. I guess he had a point. Being a soldier for the Marchetti family required a certain level of detachment, the ability to do whatever it took to protect and uphold the family name.
Zander let out a frustrated breath, letting us know how unwelcome we were. “You’re a real fucking piece of work, you know that, Marchetti?”
“What the fuck did you just say?” Enzo shot forward. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“Enzo,” Nicco warned, pulling him back. He stepped forward, power exuding from him. We were all bound to this life, whether we wanted it or not. But for Nicco, it was different. One day, he would be the head of the family. The boss. The guy with all the power. And I knew him well enough to know he had yet to make his peace with the legacy bestowed upon him.
“You dare to disrespect me?”
Zander stood up, meeting Nicco’s stare, defiance rolling off him.
“You moved into our territory, that was on you. You knew the deal; you knew what it meant. We let you do business here and you pay. You're. Fucking. Due.”
Zander tsked, tugging at his collar. “Yeah, yeah, Marchetti, I know the deal.” He walked over to a giant painting on the wall, ran his finger along the edge, and pulled it away, revealing a safe hidden in the brick wall. Once he had the envelope, he closed it again, repositioned the painting and stalked toward Nicco. “Nice doing business with you, kid.” He thrust the envelope at Nicco’s chest.
A low growl vibrated from Enzo, but before he could intervene, Nicco whipped out his pistol and jammed it against Zander’s forehead. “Get your dirty fucking hands off me.” Tension crackled through the air.
“Whoa, easy there, Nicco.” The blood drained from the cocky fucker’s face. “It’s all good, we’re all friends...”
“Does it look like we’re friends?” Nicco gritted out, slowly forcing Zander backward. “You pay your dues just like everyone else. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, man, of course. I was just—”
“Mouthing off like a little bitch?” Enzo said, grabbing the envelope off him.
Nicco finally withdrew his pistol, shoving it back in the holster strapped to his body. But his expression remained dark.
He didn’t like Zander DiMarco. None of us did. But business was business and his legitimate chain of strip clubs in and around Providence, Verona County, and Pawtucket made the family a good chunk of change in exchange for protection.
“Look, let’s start over. Stay. Have a drink; on the house of course.” He slicked back his hair. “And if you want a dance, something a little extra, just say the word.”
Enzo’s eyes flared. Dirty bastard couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for longer than a couple of hours. My thoughts went to the girl out front, the dancer.
What was it about her?
“See something you like out there?” Zander threw me a knowing smile.
“We didn’t come here to relax,” Nicco interjected.
“Of course. But stay for one drink. Let me reassure you that we can continue to make good business together.”
Nicco’s brow quirked up and Enzo smirked. Like this fucker had any choice in the matter. You didn’t renege on a deal with the Marchetti.
Unless you wanted to end up in a body bag.
“One drink.” Nicco gave Zander a sharp nod.
&
nbsp; We all filed out of Zander’s office and reentered the main room. There was a new girl riding the pole. All bottled-blonde and fake tits, she didn’t do a damn thing for me. But Enzo looked hungry for more than just a dance.
We each took a seat at the bar. “Shaun, see to my guys here, okay?” Zander clasped Nicco on the shoulder. “Whatever they want, on the house. Gentleman, I’ll leave you in good hands.”
“See you next month.” Nicco cut him with a hard look.
Zander gave a small nod before strolling away as if he hadn’t just come close to getting his brains blown out.
“Remind me why your old man thought it would be a good idea to bring in someone like DiMarco?” Enzo grumbled.
“His chain of clubs brings in good money, you know that.”
“The guys a complete asshole.”
“You’re not wrong there.” Nicco let out a heavy sigh, propping himself back against the bar.
“Did you see the way he almost shit himself when you pulled your piece out on him?”
“Enzo.” I shook my head discreetly.
Nicco didn’t enjoy pulling rank, and I knew things weighed heavily on his shoulders.
“Gentlemen.” The bartender slid a tray of drinks our way. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to someone calling me a gentleman. I was nineteen; we all were. Yet, we’d seen more than most kids our age.
Lived more.
Less than a year ago, before we were officially initiated into the family, things were different. Our lives were our own to some degree. Now we were nothing but puppets, slaves to the cause.
Enzo lived for it. The power and control. The violence. He took after his old man, Uncle Vincenzo, in that respect. Nicco was different though. He went through the motions, exacting his father’s orders because it was expected. But despite his misgivings about it all, he was good at his job.
We all took a glass. I swirled the contents around, watching as the amber liquid sloshed up the sides. We weren’t old enough to legally drink, but age was nothing but a number, and once a Marchetti man turned eighteen he took his role in the family. That’s always how it had been, always how it would be.
“To family,” Nicco said, catching my eye, and I knew his words held a double meaning.
The family business would always come first.
It had to.
But our families—my sister, and Nicco’s sister—were our driving force.
Everything we did was to keep them safe, to give them the life they deserved.
A life I hoped, one day, would one see Arabella far far away from Verona County.
“It’s looking bad out there,” Shaun said as we stood up and thanked him for the drinks. “Be safe guys.”
“Thanks.” I pulled out my wallet and threw down a fifty.
“Fuck, I need to get laid,” Enzo said as we passed the podium where another dancer was working the pole. “We heading to L’Anello’s?”
“Not tonight. I promised Bailey I’d hang out,” Nicco said.
“You do realize you’re not his fucking babysitter, don’t you?” Enzo grumbled as we exited the club. Shaun wasn’t wrong, the storm had arrived. Rain hammered down on the roof of the club, the wind howling like a pack of hungry wolves.
“He’s a good kid,” Nicco replied.
“Yeah, yeah. Why don’t we pick him up and take him with us? Who knows, maybe we can get him his first blow job?”
“He’s fifteen, E.”
“Like you weren’t getting your dick sucked in ninth grade.” He shot me with a knowing grin, and I rolled my eyes.
“My truck is in the next block over,” I said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Nicco nodded, while Enzo held out his hand. We bumped fists before I hiked up the collar on my jacket and jogged across the street. The place was deserted, but it was hardly surprising given how bad the storm had gotten. So when I reached my truck and heard a scream, my blood ran cold. I froze, straining to hear against the rain and wind wreaking havoc around me.
Nothing.
Shaking off the initial alarm I’d felt, I curled my hand around the door handle.
“Help! Somebody, help me.”
My spine went rigid. There was no mistaking the noise this time. Spinning around, I searched the street for any signs of trouble.
“Please, don’t—”
My boots ate up the sidewalk puddles as I tried to locate the noise. A momentary reprieve in the wind gave me a chance to listen.
“No, no!”
Bingo.
I charged down the street and cut down a darkened alley. The rain was relentless, lashing down, making it hard to see. But there was something up ahead in the shadows. My eyes narrowed, trying to understand what I was seeing.
“Fuck,” I breathed as murky image in front of me finally became clear.
And then I charged forward.
Chapter 2
Caitlin
“Don’t, please.” I tried to fight off the monstrous guy as his fingers wrapped around my arm, biting into my skin. He shoved me hard against the wall, sending the air whooshing from my lungs, pain radiating through my shoulder.
“Hold still, bitch,” he spat, his rancid breath washing over me. I fought the urge to retch.
“Help! Somebody, help me.” My cries were lost in the wind as it howled down the alley.
“I saw you tonight, riding that pole like a fucking pro. Well, I’ve got something you can ride right here.” He roughly grabbed my hand and shoved it down to his crotch.
This time I did retch, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Please, don’t—”
“Get the fuck off her,” a voice yelled.
Relief washed over me. Someone was here. Thank God.
“Fuck off, asshole.” The guy’s grip on my arm tightened. My jacket was drenched, rivulets of water running down my back and breasts.
“I said,” the guy was ripped away from me, “get the fuck off her.”
I stumbled away, watching as my savior grabbed the guy by his collar and yanked him closer. “You like beating on women?”
“Who the fuck are you?” He spat. “She’s good for it. Fucking cock tease.”
He didn’t get another word out. My savior slammed his head into the guy's nose, sending him flying backward.
“Motherfucker.” A pained groan filled the air.
“You want me to call the police on this piece of shit?” He glanced over at me, his expression murderous. But he didn’t scare me. There was a softness in his eyes that drew me in, and somehow, I knew this dark angel wouldn’t hurt me.
“N- no.” The last thing I needed was the police turning up, asking questions.
“You get the fuck out of here and don’t look back, you hear me?” He shoved the guy hard, letting him land in a big puddle.
“Okay, chill, man.” The guy held his hands up, then scrambled to his hands and knees, blood pouring from his nose, turning the rain beneath him ruby red.
We watched him clamber to his feet and then skulk away into the shadows.
“Are you okay?”
“Thank you,” I said through chattering teeth.
“Shit, you’re cold. Do you have a car around here?”
“No,” I sniffled, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I was walking home.”
“Walking...” He let out a strained breath. “I have my truck right around the corner. I can take you to wherever you want to go, or I can call you a cab and wait with you if you’d prefer that?”
I dipped my hand in my purse feeling for the can of mace and my cell phone. A crack of thunder rumbled overhead followed by a flash of lightning.
“Fuck,” the guy whistled. “It’s getting bad out here. Come on.” He held out his hand as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
In my line of work, it wasn’t.
Tentatively, I slid my palm into his. We were both soaked to the bone, the rain showing no signs of letting up. “I’m Matteo,” he said.
“Caitlin.”
>
“Nice to meet you, Caitlin. Now let’s get you home before you freeze to death.”
The truck was warm by the time Matteo pulled up outside my apartment building, but I was still like a drowned rat.
“This is me.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Is there someone you want to call? Friend? Boyfriend?” He turned off the engine. Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, startling me.
“No boyfriend,” I whispered, peering up at the sky. It had been a long time since I’d seen a storm this bad. “Jesus,” the word spilled from my lips as thunder crashed overhead.
“Not a fan of storms?”
“Something like that,” I mumbled.
Damn Gisele. She’d been my ride home, but had gotten held up. So I'd decided to walk. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as the reality of what could have happened sank into me.
“Hey, don’t cry.” Matteo touched my arm, and our eyes met. “You’re safe now.”
Nodding, I averted my eyes, trying to swallow the rest of the tears.
“Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t I walk you up to your apartment, make sure you get in okay?”
My eyes flicked to his, and he smiled. “I don’t bite, I promise.”
Matteo seemed so different to the men I encountered at the club with their wandering hands, fat wallets, and indecent morals.
“Only if you’re sure.”
His eyes lit up. “Of course. It’s really getting wild out there. Let me come around and open your door, okay?”
After battling against the force of the wind, he managed to climb out. Seconds later, my door opened. “We’ll have to make a run for it.” To my surprise, Matteo had taken off his jacket to use as a shield. I slipped out of the truck and buried myself into his side, and we took off toward the building.
