King of Souls

by L A Cotton

“I’ll be okay. I promise.”

  Steeling myself, I spun around and made my way out of the apartment, not bothering to stop for Scott. He stumbled after me, his dark chuckle making my spine stiffen.

  “The harder you push, the sweeter it’ll be when you finally give in.” He grabbed my arm, lacing it with his. I glared up at him. Anger vibrated through me, but Luis cleared his throat, moving around us to open the door.

  “You’ll follow in the SUV,” Scott barked as if he had the power to give orders.

  “Not part of the deal. I go where Arianne goes.” Luis cut him with a hard look, but Scott didn’t relent, the two of them locked in a silent battle of wills.

  “We can always call Roberto or your father and settle this?”

  “You ride in the back,” Scott conceded, guiding me over to his sports car. It was so pretentious and full of bad memories. A shiver worked its way through me as he pulled open the door and pressed his hand to the small of my back. “Remember how much fun we had the last time we were in here?”

  I ducked around him and slipped into the car, forcing myself to breathe. The familiar smell of the leather hit me, overwhelming me.

  This was all a game to him.

  A sick twisted game in which Scott wanted me afraid and cowering. But he was forgetting one thing. When a wild animal was cornered it either surrendered or fought—and I wasn’t about to cower to Scott Fascini, regardless of how much he tried to disarm me.

  My fingers curled into the soft leather seat as I forced myself to slow my breathing. My senses were on high alert. For as much as I wanted to forget, I could remember every detail about the last time I was in this car. That fateful night had been the catalyst for a chain of events I couldn’t have imagined even in my wildest dreams. A chain of events that had flipped my world on its head in so many ways.

  The car doors slammed as Luis and Scott climbed inside.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy?” he sneered. “Maybe I should have made the reservation for three?”

  Luis smothered a snort. “Just drive,” he grumbled.

  “I think you’ll really like the restaurant I picked.” Scott’s hand landed on my knee, my body tensing. He smirked over at me. The grin of a predator tracking its prey. But I wouldn’t be his victim again.

  I refused.

  My hand slid over his, my fingers slipping into the spaces between.

  “See,” he said. “That wasn’t so difficult—”

  I wrenched his index finger back, his pained grunt filling the car. “Fucking bitch.”

  Flashing him my own smirk, I said, “Who, me?”

  “That’s really how you want to play it?” His brows furrowed, his voice a low growl. “Because you should know, my fiancée, I never lose.”

  SORRENTO’S WAS A SEAFOOD lover’s paradise. Nestled in one of the quaint streets of the city, it was a decadent fusion of Italy and America. I’d only been here once, when I was a child. But my parents had a monthly reservation. Anyone who was anyone in Verona County did. So I was hardly surprised that Scott had managed to get us a table.

  “Mr. Fascini,” the Maître D said, “we have your regular table ready and waiting.”

  “Thank you, Carlo.” Scott urged me forward, his hand pressing the small of my back in a possessive display of ownership.

  I hated it.

  I hated everything about this.

  Knowing Luis was close by gave me some sense of comfort, but did little to ease the tight knot in my stomach.

  “Wine?”

  “A bottle of champagne please, we’re celebrating.” Scott barely acknowledged the Maître D, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on my face.

  “Of course, Mr. Fascini, I’ll have someone bring it right out.” He scurried away.

  “Alone at last.” Scott relaxed back in his chair, making no attempt to hide the way his eyes lazily appraised my body. I’d opted for black pants and a chiffon blouse. It was demure yet elegant. Date worthy but safe. If I’d have had my way, I would have worn a burlap sack, but as Nora reminded me, I needed to play my part. At least until someone figured out how to get me the hell out of this nightmare.

  It would have been so easy to run; to get up and never look back. I could flee to Boston and Nicco and I could disappear across country. But he had responsibilities. He had a whole legacy weighing on his shoulders, not to mention Alessia and his cousins. I couldn’t ask that of him.

  Besides, Verona was my home. Nora was here. My mom... My life.

  Running felt like surrender, and I refused to cower. Not to Scott, not to my father, not to this game I didn’t fully understand yet.

  “Has your father talked to you about the party?”

  “Party?” Dread snaked up my spine.

  “The engagement party, of course. Well, at least it will be once they announce it.”

  Just then, the server arrived with our champagne. I wasted no time holding out my glass. “Thank you,” I muttered, downing it in one. The bubbles fizzed all the way down and I covered my mouth with a hand.

  Scott chuckled. “My fiancée just found out some exciting news.”

  “Oh, well congratulations.” The server offered to refill my glass, but I declined. I needed to keep my wits about me, not succumb to the tempting distraction of alcohol.

  “You should have another.” Scott motioned to the bottle on ice. “Loosen up a little.”

  “I think I should probably stick to water.”

  “Spoilsport,” he drawled. “I went to see Tristan today. The doctors said he could wake any day.”

  Pain coiled around my heart. Me and my cousin might not have always seen eye to eye, but he was still my family, my blood. I didn’t want him to die.

  “I hope he does.”

  “At least Marchetti is gone. He’s lucky he isn’t rotting in a cell like he deserves for what he did to Tristan.” Scott said the words as if it negated his responsibility for what happened that night. If he hadn’t provoked Nicco we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

  Oh, who was I kidding?

  I didn’t know how things would have turned out because it was abundantly clear that my life was not my own. I was but a puppet and my puppet master was a man who wore many faces.

  Father.

  Traitor.

  Sinner.

  Liar.

  Roberto Capizola was a man I could no longer trust. A man who spoke of protecting me and putting me first, but who locked me away in our house for five years to save me from the truth.

  My father was not a good man.

  My legacy was not built on the blood, sweat, and tears of an honest past. It was built on lies and secrets and a dark past he didn’t think I was strong enough to know about.

  I grabbed the bottle of champagne and refilled my glass.

  “Are you ready to order?” The server reappeared, looking a little sheepish. Scott straightened and folded his hands on the table.

  “I’d like my usual, hold the sauce with extra greens please.”

  “Very good, Mr. Fascini. And for the lady?”

  Before I could get out the first word, Scott said, “She’ll have the same, thank you.”

  The server gave him a tight nod and started walking away, but indignation burned through me. “Excuse me,” I called after him grabbing one of the leather-bound menus. “Actually, I’d like a garden salad with a side order of the shrimp.”

  “Excellent choice.” He gave me a small smile before hurrying away.

  “I’m quite capable of ordering my own meal.”

  “You want to be independent,” Scott relaxed in his chair again, “I can dig that. But you know, Arianne, you need to get used to being taken care of.”

  “I’m not looking to be somebody’s arm candy, Scott.” His name vibrated through me.

  His lip curled with amusement. “You have so much to learn about the world, Bellissima.”

  “Do not call me that,” I seethed, my fingers curling around the edge of my seat.

  “Our unio
n will make our families strong. It will make us a force to be reckoned with. The Capizola and the Fascini.” Something flickered in his eyes. “You and me, it's happening, baby. So you can either get on board with that, or you can fight me at every turn. Either way, I’m going to enjoy the ride.”

  The champagne washed in my stomach, and I swallowed the acid rushing up my throat. Scott wasn’t going to make this easy. He was going to push and taunt me at every turn.

  He picked up his glass and inspected it, his eyes catching me through the polished crystal. “I am counting down the days until I can have you again.”

  I sucked in a harsh breath. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t sit and listen to his sick and twisted words. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.” Gingerly, I stood and grabbed my purse. Luis immediately caught my eye and moved into position to follow me. I hurried toward the back of the room and slipped into the ladies’ restroom.

  There was a knock and Luis’ gruff voice followed. “Arianne? Are you okay?”

  “Just a minute.” My voice cracked, as I fought desperately to keep the tears at bay. I’d foolishly thought that if I didn’t give Scott power over me, he couldn’t hurt me.

  I was wrong.

  People like Scott—men like Scott—didn’t wait to be given power, they took it. He wouldn’t stop his tirade until he won. Until he had me broken at his feet, begging him to stop.

  “Arianne, I’m coming in.” Luis cracked the door open and ducked inside. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

  “He—” An ugly sob tore from my throat as my body trembled with frustration and pain.

  “Ssh.” My bodyguard wrapped me into his arms, holding me. “He’s just trying to get a reaction from you.”

  I eased back to look at him. “Well, it’s working.” Luis handed me a tissue and I dabbed the corner of my eyes. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “You can.” He gave me a sad smile. “You must.”

  I glanced away. In that moment, I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t want to stand tall and refuse to let the likes of Scott Fascini and my father walk all over me.

  I wanted to run.

  I wanted to beg Luis to take me far away from Verona County and never look back.

  “Arianne, look at me,” he let out a strained breath. Slowly, I lifted my tear-stained eyes to his. “You are one of the strongest people I know. You are kind and compassionate and you have such a big heart. Don’t let him take that from you. Don’t let that piece of shit win.”

  “O- okay. I’m okay.” I slipped out of his hold and went over to the mirror, drying my eyes. “Can I have a minute?”

  Luis hesitated, but after a beat, he nodded, leaving me alone.

  Digging my cell phone out of my purse, I opened my messages.

  Tell me something good.

  It pinged straightaway, making my mouth curve into a half-smile.

  I love you.

  Another message came straight through.

  Is everything okay?

  It will be. I love you too.

  Emotion clogged my throat as I awaited his reply. God, I wanted to see Nicco. To bury myself in his arms and breathe him in.

  Be strong, Bambolina. Be strong for me. For us.

  Chapter 5

  Nicco

  “Is that her?” Dane asked me as we sat out back with a beer. The flames from the fire pit licked high into the inky night’s sky, the crackle hypnotic.

  “Yeah,” I said tightly, dropping my cell on the arm of the chair.

  “What’s she like?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “I can’t ever imagine meeting a chick who knocks me on my ass, humor me.”

  “Arianne is...” I released a small breath. “She’s like no one else I’ve ever met.”

  “And you had no idea that she was... you know. The enemy.” He whispered the words as if they were forbidden.

  “None.” My chest tightened. “Do you really think I would have...?” I stopped myself. To suggest a world without Arianne seemed impossible.

  I knew what Dane thought, what all of my uncles and the guys thought. They didn’t understand how I could fall so hard and fast for a girl I barely knew. Hell, even I didn’t understand it. But I was done questioning it. Fate had entwined our paths that night, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

  Before Arianne, I had been numb; a reluctant prince wearing a crown too heavy. My only priority was the Family and fulfilling my duty. But meeting Arianne was like taking my first breath. She smiled and all the stars came out to take notice. And something inside me had come to life. I wanted to protect her. Stand by her side. I wanted to bind myself to her with permanence and loyalty and love.

  I wanted things with her I had no right to want as a nineteen-year-old mafioso. A mafioso who would one day be head of the Family.

  “It’s rough, man,” Dane let out a low whistle before taking a long pull on his beer. “The one girl you want is the only girl you can’t have.”

  My eyes cut to his, but I found no arrogance there, just mild curiosity. Dane was still green, skirting on the fringe of the Family before he turned eighteen, graduated high school, and took his role under his father’s rule.

  We were the future.

  Our fathers’ legacies.

  But it was something no one could prepare you for.

  “Maybe I’ll get to meet her one day. Show her I’m the better looking Marchetti.” He waggled his brows and I threw my bottle cap at his head. Dane batted it away, laughter rumbling in his chest.

  “Not a fucking chance.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t already have options.”

  “Options?” My brow rose. Cocky fucker.

  “Like you, Enzo, and Matteo didn’t screw around in high school. Enzo is one of the biggest players I’ve ever met. That guy is—”

  “Don’t ever let him hear you say that shit.” The vibrations of my cell phone demanded my attention and I picked it up.

  They’re at some fancy place in the city. Luis is with them.

  Good. Stay on them.

  I hit send, unsure whether to feel relieved or more anxious. I hadn’t even had to ask Bailey to keep an eye on Arianne, he’d offered. I didn’t want to drag him any deeper into the shit between me, Fascini, and Roberto, but something told me he wouldn’t listen anyway. And the truth was, I needed to have eyes on her, eyes I trusted with my life.

  “Everything okay?” Dane asked, and I nodded. “You sure don’t look like everything’s okay. You can talk to me, you know. We’re family. One day we’re going to be running everything, together.”

  I didn’t ever let myself look too far into the future, not when it was mapped out before me. But things were different now.

  I was different.

  “I’m trying to see a way through this, but I’m not going to lie, kid, it’s real fucking hard.”

  “Hey, less of the kid. You’re like two years older than me.”

  “Three.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waved me off. “You know your old man will fix it. Uncle Toni isn’t going to let some Suit piss all over him and the Family.”

  “You know the history between the Marchetti and the Capizola?”

  He gave me a half-shrug. “I know all I need to know. They went one way, we went the other, now we’re on opposite sides of the line.”

  I smirked. The kid sure had a way with words. “Something like that.” I scrubbed my jaw. “The point is, we’ve got history.” And history had a funny way of repeating itself.

  Dane grumbled to himself. He was still young. He didn’t understand the finesse required when handling certain situations. Roberto Capizola and Mike Fascini weren’t just your everyday guys. They had power, money... they had connections. If we were going to finally go up against them, we needed to have an airtight plan. Because when you went to war people got hurt.

  People died.

  “I just hate knowing that she’s there... with
him. If he hurts her again...” Pure rage exploded in my veins. My body shook, my teeth grinding violently behind my lips.

  I wanted to kill Scott Fascini.

  I would kill him.

  One day, when he was least expecting it, I would watch the life drain from his eyes and feel nothing but satisfaction.

  “Shit, Nicco, you’re a better guy than me. Some dude ever touched a girl I was seeing, I’d tear his dick off his body and feed it to him.”

  I smiled at that. I couldn’t help it. “Trust me when I say, he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

  One way or another, Scott Fascini would pay.

  Silence settled over us as we stared at the roaring fire. Boston was worlds apart from La Riva. My thoughts drifted to Enzo and Matteo and what they would be doing right now. Part of me wondered if Matt would be able to keep our hot-headed cousin out of trouble. I’d asked them both to keep an eye on Alessia. I wanted to ask them to watch over Arianne, but Enzo was still coming to terms with everything, and I knew he intimidated her. So Bailey seemed like the better option, for now. We all needed to lie low, to let the dust settle. Roberto Capizola might have double crossed me, but he’d obviously pulled some strings because I was still breathing and as far as I was aware, there had been no comeback on the Family yet.

  Everything was quiet.

  The calm before the unstoppable storm.

  I’d beaten the crap out of Scott and put Tristan Capizola in a coma. You didn’t just walk away from that.

  “What’s it like?” Dane finally broke the silence. “Being a capo? Being out there, working for the Family?”

  Dane was a tall kid. He had broad shoulders and a trim waist, and it was obvious he worked out. But right there, with the glow of the fire dancing across his face, he looked like a little kid, scared and fascinated in equal measure.

  “It is what it is.” I ran my thumb around the bottle neck. “Being Marchetti means family, it means putting the Family above all else. It means being prepared to fight... to hurt... to die for Dominion.”

  “Your initiation...” His voice was quiet, a trace of uncertainty there. “What did you have to do?”

  “You know what it entails.” All men born into the Family did.