Dark Throne: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Russo Royals)

by Shanna Handel

  I let out a roar, slamming my fist against the stone wall.

  Where is she?

  Where has he taken her?

  And why wasn’t I here to protect her?

  I never, ever should have let her out of my sight. Not for a second. Wasn’t that my only job?

  To protect her?

  God damn.

  I bring my palm to the desktop so hard, it shakes the monitors, making Manny jump.

  “What have I done? What have I allowed to happen? In my own house?”

  He goes to speak but I’m already flying from the room.

  I have to find her.

  Sickness grows in my belly as anger rises in my blood.

  I’ll kill him.

  My own brother.

  I’ll break our family’s sacred vow to never hurt another Romano.

  And I’ll take his life.

  I always thought it was ridiculous, what Romeo did. How, even if Juliet was dead, Romeo should have carried on. He had people depending on him. A life to lead.

  But now, with no trace of Esme, my worst fears coming to the forefront of my mind, my first thought is: I can’t live without her.

  I don’t even want to live this life, if she’s not here with me, right beside me, living it with me.

  I feel like, for the first time, I understand that damn book I spent so many hours reading.

  I know what it means to love someone so much that without them…

  Death would bring relief.

  Esme

  “Where are you taking me?” I tug my arm, wanting to break away from his hold as he pulls me though the forest.

  I did as he demanded, leaving the castle without a sound.

  My one word glance at the camera my only hope for someone to come and stop him.

  He pulls me into the sleek black car he’s left idling on the path.

  “Get in.” He holds the passenger door open, ready to shove me inside if I don’t comply.

  Should I scream?

  Should I run?

  I remember his threat…if I fight, if I don’t do as he says…

  He’ll hurt Nonna.

  I can’t let that happen.

  I’ll go with him.

  I’ll do as he says.

  All the while, knowing Luca will find me.

  I know this like I know my lungs will demand their next breath, that my heart will beat in my chest with no instruction from me. I know he will come.

  And when he does…

  I shudder to think of what he will do to Rocco.

  I climb in the car.

  He closes the door behind me.

  I don’t want to upset him, but there has to be a way I can talk him down from—my stomach turns to ice—whatever he has planned.

  He slides in the driver’s seat, closing the door and turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life.

  I need to get him talking. “Your brother won’t like this.”

  He gives a snort, sliding the car down the dark path, the headlights cut. “He’s not even my brother. He’s only half my blood.”

  What is he talking about? His mom had four sons with his dad, Lance, Luca, Rocco, and Sergio. I keep my voice even, steady, light. “What do you mean?”

  He gives a low groan. “My mom didn’t die in childbirth. She was killed after Sergio was born.”

  Killed? Icicles form in my heart.

  “Tell me about it.” Keep him talking. Just keep him talking.

  He creeps the car away from the estate, winding along the road by the creek.

  He gives me an incredulous stare from the corner of his eyes. “Haven’t you noticed? How Sergio and I don’t look like the older two? How our skin is darker, our eyes almond-shaped? John is not our father.”

  I sneak a look at him. Dark hair, almost black. Dark skin, his olive complexion enhanced by the sun’s rays. Brown eyes, in the shape, as he says, of an almond, a thin brow resting on his browbone.

  Nothing like Luca’s light eyes and features. And Lance has chestnut hair, his skin tan but not dark like this, his eyes round like Luca’s. Each with a thick brow, a jawline cut from stone.

  Rocco’s features, while still strong, are slighter. I think of Sergio, a spitting image of Rocco, only thicker, with the broad chest of his older brothers.

  Half-brothers.

  We turn onto the main road and he flicks the headlights on, their soft glow offering at least some solace in the dark night. We’re the only vehicle on the road in our sleepy village. He’s heading east.

  Where is he taking me?

  Perspiration dots my brows and prickles beneath my arms.

  Just keep him talking.

  “How did you find out? About your mother, I mean?”

  “I didn’t. Sergio did. A few months ago, around the time of your wedding, he was going through our father’s things on his birthday—the anniversary of my mother’s death—looking for a photo of her. He found a letter…”

  His words trail off.

  I feel the need to not only keep his mind occupied, but to hear the rest of the story.

  “What did the letter say?” Now, we drive along the sea, heading further away from home.

  “It was from her lover. A man named Stefano. Written to my father. Confessing everything.

  “Where did you father find the letter?’

  His voice catches as he speaks. “Beside my mother’s dead body. Sergio in her arms.”

  Holy—fuck.

  And I thought being abandoned in a basket was a dramatic way to begin your life.

  “And your…father. Your birth father, Stefano? What became of him?”

  “My mother wouldn’t leave John, wouldn’t leave the Romano family. Before Sergio was born, she told him their fling was over. That she never wanted to see him again. That their five-year affair was a mistake. That if he didn’t leave her alone, she would tell John the truth, and John would kill him.”

  “And Stefano couldn’t bear it? To live without her?”

  He shakes his head. His voice is thick. Tight. “No. So he came the moment he heard Sergio was born. And killed her. Left the note. And went to the sea. A few fishermen watched him as he took his boots off on the shore, swimming alone, past the waves. When he didn’t reappear, they went out to find him, but he was gone.”

  A murder and a suicide.

  A dark beginning to life.

  A terrible end to a marriage.

  A bloody dissolution of an affair.

  I keep my gaze on the road. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been shocking. Confusing. Have you told your father that you know the truth?”

  He shakes his head. “No. And I never will.”

  “Why?”

  “John is a good man. Raising me and Sergio like his own. I can’t imagine the pain he must feel every time he looks at our faces. Seeing not only our mother, but the face of our mother’s lover. And the man who killed her.”

  “That’s…heavy.”

  “Yes. A weight that I will bear.” He sneaks a glance at me from the corner of his eyes. His voice softens. “I’m not going to hurt you, you know.”

  I stare at his face, reading the expression that lies there. I believe him. “I didn’t know that. But I’m glad to hear it.”

  His gaze holds steady on the road.

  Is the conversation over?

  I don’t bother asking where we’re going, or what he’s doing. “Is there any way I can…help you? With whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish?”

  He gives me a look. “You already have. Just by being Esme.”

  His words trigger the memory of Luca, that last night in my bedroom at the castle.

  I want you, as just Esme.

  My longing for Luca grows so strong, tears spring to my eyes and I blink them away. “Well, then, I’m happy to help. Whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish, you must feel strongly about and I hope you can find some relief.”

  Use me any way you want.

  A
s long as I get back to Luca.

  He gives a grumbling noise. “He won’t listen to me. I only need to get his attention. To use you—to bring you—to a place where he will come and he will have to listen.”

  Soft, easy tones. Make him comfortable. “What do you want to tell him?”

  His fingers grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles go white.

  Wrong question?

  Insert quick subject change here, Esme. “Sometimes I wonder who my own father is.” I stare out the window.

  A gruff laugh rises from his chest. “Oh, yeah—the whole baby in a basket situation—I’d almost forgotten. Any chance we share a father? Maybe he was knocking up the whole village.”

  I offer a half-laugh. “I do have dark eyes, like yours.”

  “Perla Negra. The black pearl.” He shoots his gaze to meet mine.

  We’re not so different, Rocco and I.

  Young. Impulsive. Determined.

  If he wasn’t so set on vengeance, maybe we’d even be friends.

  He’s relaxed now. I shouldn’t push it. But I need to know.

  “Are you taking me to seek some sort of revenge? For the firecrackers?”

  I expect a brooding silence, his knuckles to go white again.

  He relaxes, his voice turning soft. “No. That was just childish pranks—like you said that night—kid stuff. I knew you didn’t mean any harm. And I know Luca used to be an ass to you. Hell, he probably deserved it. I was just turning my anger toward your father and his wealth at an easier target. You.”

  “Luca can be stubborn. And hardheaded.”

  “And hard of hearing.”

  We share a quiet laugh.

  I press on, seeking resolution. “But he’s a good man. And I know he loves you. He only does what he does to protect everyone. Every decision he makes—no matter how pigheaded he is about delivering it—he makes with the thought of protecting others.”

  “How is a union with the Russos protecting us? The Romanos are the true bloodline of the village. No offense.”

  I nod. “None taken. But maybe…maybe together the Russos and Romanos can build a new family, a stronger family. Together.”

  “But now, I know I’m not even a bloodline Romano.” He gives a manic laugh. “Neither of us are part of our family’s bloodline. That was quite a shock to me. Really shook me up. At least you knew all along.”

  “Still…”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t see it happening. There will never truly be peace between our families. But none of that matters to me now.”

  His words are so final. An ending of some kind. They leave me with a heavy feeling in my belly.

  He turns down a lane, driving toward the sea. The moonlight shines on the shore, giving the sand a soft glow.

  “Midnight swim?” I give a nervous giggle to my feeble attempt at a joke.

  He pulls the car to a slow, parking a few meters from the shore in front of what looks to be an abandoned barn.

  Gazing upon the rickety wood, the darkness pouring from the broken panes of glass in the window, my hands begin to shake.

  My resolve to remain calm, to be helpful, dissolves.

  There’s no way in fuck I’m letting him take me in there.

  I try to steady my quavering voice. “Look, Rocco. I get the whole frustration thing, but—”

  His gaze grips mine. “I’m not taking you in that barn.”

  “You’re not?”

  He shakes his head. “No. I’m going, in there.” He nods his head to the sea.

  Is he going to drown himself like his father? I’ve no idea what Luca plans on doing to him, but surely it’s not worth killing himself over—

  He raises a finger, pointing to a small white sea plane, a blue stripe down its side, parked on the waters by a dock.

  “You can fly that thing?”

  “Yes. That’s where I’ve been. Learning to fly, getting my license, finding a new home for myself. Getting ready for my next adventure…” His words trail off, leaving me wondering where he’s headed. “Look, I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry I told you I’d hurt Nonna—I never would—I just didn’t know any other way to get you to come here.”

  I shake my head. “Forget about it.”

  His tone goes dark. “I won’t. And I know Luca won’t forget either.”

  The truth is heavy.

  He stares out the windshield. “Knowing I’m not a bloodline Romano, I’ve been confused. Hurt. Lost my sense of purpose. I need to be gone for a while. And I need Luca to know. Everything. About our mother, her death, why I’m leaving here. I needed to be sure he got this letter.”

  “Alright…”

  “Here.” Reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, he pulls out a piece of white paper, folded in three. “Please. Give this to my brother.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “Thank you.” His shoulders lift a little, like a weight’s been taken from them. His hand goes to the handle of the car door to leave.

  I look out over the dark night. “How will I find my way home?”

  He pulls a phone from his other pocket, putting in a code and tapping at the screen. “I turned the GPS back on. Call him. He’ll come to you. Just do me a favor?”

  Having this phone in my hand, knowing in the matter of an hour I’ll see Luca’s face…pure joy rips through my heart. “Yes. Anything.”

  “Just wait till I get the plane in the air to do it. Give me at least that much of a head start in case he follows me. My hope is, he’ll let me go.”

  “I’ll give him your letter. And tell you what, I’ll wait until you’re out of sight to call.”

  “Thanks. Esme.” He gives me a smile.

  And leaves.

  The keys are in the ignition, the engine still running. Reaching over, I turn the keys, cutting it.

  I stay in the passenger seat and watch him as he walks down to the dock.

  Ten minutes later, there’s the roar of an engine. The plane glides out into open waters. And up, up into the air.

  I watch it fly over the horizon, over the sea, until it’s gone from sight.

  15

  Luca

  I’ve got eyes and ears on alert all over the village, stretching as far as the city. Manny is watching the screens, ready to call me if there’s any movement at the estate. Russo is pacing his castle floor, sending men through the woods.

  I’ve got to find her.

  I’m alone, phone in hand. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m following my gut. My instincts led me to my car, and feeling completely out of control, I just head east.

  I don’t deserve her.

  Never did.

  The way I tormented her, irritated by her impulsiveness.

  A trait I now find endearing.

  Like last month when the skies opened up, pouring buckets of rain one afternoon. Esme pulled us out into the courtyard and we danced under the drops until we were soaked to our skin. A double rainbow appeared over the valley. I grabbed her in my arms and kissed her, so grateful for her free spirit.

  Or when Nonna was talking memories, of some coffee shop she and Grandfather used to go to in Rome. Esme called the driver, loading my grandmother into the car, laughing. The two spent the day driving to the city, all for one espresso. I swear I haven’t seen Nonna smile like that since Papa died.

  Or, when Esme tossed those firecrackers that day, knowing she could never overpower me, trying to find some other way to pay me back.

  It’s the reason we’re married today.

  My hands grip the wheel till the leather is slick from the sweat of my palms.

  I have to find her.

  Where is she?

  What has Rocco done?

  Rocco became so bitter at the time of the wedding.

  Angry that I was uniting the families, that I was marrying Esme. He went away after that.

  Sergio’s become easier to be around since Rocco left. He’s fallen under Esme’s spell, seeing how much good
she brings to our family. Out from under Rocco’s thumb, he’s happier. He gets a little distant at times, staring out over the horizon deep in thought, but I’m able to bring him back with a question about his friends.

  He’s got a good group of guy friends. They like to hunt the deer on our land, bows flung over their shoulders as they tromp through the woods in their muddy boots. When they come back, victorious, a buck in their Jeeps, I slap their backs, congratulating them.

  Sergio’s just a kid. I try to let him have what’s left of his childhood.

  I wish Rocco was still a kid, here under my watch.

  But he’s not.

  Rocco broke our sacred vow when he kidnapped Esme.

  I always thought it was Nonna who held us together after my mother’s death.

  It wasn’t.

  It was our family’s sacred vow.

  And now…it’s broken.

  I’m going to hurt him.

  If I find him.

  Where is Esme?

  My phone rings, the sound startling my thoughts.

  I pick up before the sound of the first ring stops. “Yes?”

  “Luca.”

  She breathes my name like a prayer.

  My heart wells in my chest, beating an extra hard beat.

  “Esme. My God, it’s you.” I slide the car to the side of the road. My eyes close, my hand going to my forehead. I come to, questions pouring from my mouth faster than she can answer. “Where are you? Are you hurt? What has Rocco done to you?”

  Her voice is light, easy. “Nothing. I’m fine. I promise. He gave me this phone to call you.”

  “Hold on.” I put her on speaker, pulling up the screen to trace the call with GPS. The little bright green light blinks, down by the shore, on our old farm property. “I’m coming. Stay on the phone with me.”

  I turn the wheel, hard, pulling back onto the road. “Do not hang up.”

  She gives a laugh.

  And it’s the most glorious sound in the world.

  “Luca why would I hang up? I’m right here. I’m going to stay right here until you come.”

  I heave a breath. “Thank you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  How do I know? Until I see her face, until I hold her body against mine, how do I know that she’s really okay?

  I clear my throat. “I’m coming.”

  I push my foot down on the accelerator, getting every ounce of power I can from the Alfa Romeo. I tear down the road, closing the gap between her and me as fast as I can. “Where is Rocco?”