Liar's Lullaby: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mazzeo Mafia Book 1)

by Nicole Fox

  “Somewhere beautiful,” Vanessa emphasizes. “With a beach. And an open bar. And a cute, shirtless bartender.”

  “Sure,” I say with a bittersweet smile.

  It sounds nice. White sand, golden sun, no one but my best friend by my side.

  But it’s too nice to ever come true.

  Girls like Vanessa and me never get happy endings.

  It’s something in our genetics. We’re trailer trash. Human waste.

  Why spoil a happy ending on us?

  So no, nothing about this is fair. Not to me. Not to Vanessa. Certainly not to Evie.

  And if there’s a way I can save myself without hurting that precious little girl, I’m gonna do my best to do it.

  That doesn’t change the fact that I feel awful.

  Do I feel guilty about what I’m going to do? Yes.

  Am I going to do it anyway? Yes.

  Why?

  Because I survive on fucking opportunity.

  19

  Charlotte

  Van takes my hand as we walk slowly from the pool deck back towards the mansion. I’m actually grateful for the touch.

  Whenever Lucio’s around, I feel like I’m going insane. Vanessa’s hand in mine reminds me that there’s a solid reality outside of these grounds.

  I just have to find my way back there.

  “It has to be somewhere in his office,” she says conspiratorially.

  “I agree,” I whisper back. “But I don’t know how the hell we’re going to get in there.”

  “We’ll just have to get creative,” Vanessa says with a smile I’m not sure I like.

  “Van…”

  She raises her eyebrows innocently. “Me?”

  “You’re up to something,” I accuse.

  “Um, hello—we both are.”

  I ignore that. “What are you thinking?”

  She looks past me. “I’m thinking I should do the distracting and you should do the sleuthing.”

  I frown, craning my neck back to glance at the house and see what she’s seeing.

  Enzo has disappeared, but I can see Lucio sitting on a sleek black recliner by the massive glass windows. He’s got a drink in hand and he makes no secret of the fact that he’s watching us.

  I feel heat creep up my body as his eyes meet mine.

  Before I go tumbling back down memory lane to the Rolls Royce incident—or the desk-in-his-office incident, or the cornered-in-the-jail-cell incident, or any of the other million times he’s made me feel like I’m on the verge of going insane with unnamed urges—I break the eye contact and turn back to Vanessa.

  “You’re suggesting we do this… now?”

  “Well, yeah,” Vanessa says like I’m thick in the head. “Why wait?”

  I feel fear splice through me as I consider the ramifications of what might happen if we’re caught.

  Suddenly, I’m not so brave.

  “Vanessa…”

  “We can do this, Charlotte,” she says, cutting me off. “We just need to commit.”

  “I’m committed,” I reply. But I don’t sound very convincing. Not even to myself.

  “Then what are you worried about?” she asks. “I mean, between you and me, we’re a force to be reckoned with.”

  “I’m not worried about us,” I clarify. “I’m worried about… him.”

  Vanessa follows my gaze, but her face splits into a slow smile. “Well, then you should let me worry about him.”

  “What are you gonna do?” I ask. I’m feeling a different kind of nervousness than what I expected to feel.

  “What I do best,” Vanessa tells me with a pointed wink. “Come on.”

  She starts walking towards the house.

  “Vanessa!” I hiss after her, but she ignores me.

  Left with no choice, I chase after her. My heart is thumping hard against my chest. But I swallow back the tang of fear.

  Time to commit.

  I linger by the door and watch as Vanessa slinks over to where Lucio is sitting, scotch in hand.

  I’ve seen that walk on her before.

  In nightclubs. Around rich men.

  She’s a pro at it—hair bouncing, hips swaying, this aura of invincible sexuality just radiating off of her like a nuclear reactor.

  It’s an effective way of getting attention to say the least.

  Except that Lucio isn’t actually looking at her.

  He’s looking at me.

  His gray eyes pierce right through Van and singe me with the force of his stare.

  “Hey there, big man,” Vanessa says, stepping in front of Lucio, forcing his attention away from me. “I just wanted to come over and say thank you for letting me visit with my girl.”

  As far as strategies go, I’d have been extremely confident in it as recently as a few seconds ago.

  But now, I’m not so sure.

  It doesn’t seem to be working on Lucio at all. He’s regarding Van like she’s utterly uninteresting.

  The silence is excruciating.

  “Well,” he drawls finally, “you’ve thanked me.”

  It’s a dismissal, plain and simple. I know that, Vanessa knows that—hell, even the plants in the garden know that.

  But Vanessa doesn’t flinch.

  She’s always been good at not taking “no” for an answer.

  She sashays closer to him so that her crotch is in line with his face.

  She’s wearing a denim mini that hangs low on her hips. Her yellow crop top has billowy sleeves and ends just below her boobs, revealing a generous portion of her midsection and putting her belly ring on full display.

  With her tanned curves and blonde hair, she’s every guy’s wet dream.

  Given what we’re trying to do, I should want her to be Lucio’s wet dream, too.

  But somehow, I don’t.

  “I’m really grateful,” Vanessa continues, leaning in so that her boobs are in his face. “I just wanna show you exactly how much.”

  He raises his eyebrows. I’m preparing for him to kick her ass out. In fact, I’m silently rooting for it.

  And then…

  “How exactly do you plan on doing that?”

  There’s nothing antagonistic about his tone. He doesn’t even seem annoyed anymore.

  He seems more… amused.

  Curious.

  Dare I say interested?

  I feel a strange tightening in my chest that I can’t immediately explain.

  “I’m not so sure,” Vanessa says, giving her best smile. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  One corner of his mouth turns up in a grin that’s both sinister and sexy.

  He’s about to speak…

  Until suddenly, I find myself walking forward into the room.

  “Vanessa,” I announce. “Let’s go. Lucio doesn’t like company.”

  She looks at me with surprise, her face clouding over with confusion. I can see the question in her eyes: What the fuck are you doing?

  “Charlotte,” Lucio tuts. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  I stare at him for a moment. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Your friend here was expressing her gratitude for this little visit,” he rumbles. “Perhaps you should go tend to your responsibilities?”

  Our plan is coming off without a hitch. He’s telling me to get lost.

  Which is like giftwrapping me the perfect opportunity to search for the Mazzeo cookbook.

  So why do my legs feel rooted to the spot?

  Why does the thought of walking away make me feel sick?

  “Something wrong, Charlotte?” Lucio asks, looking me right in the eye.

  I can feel my cheeks heat up under his scrutiny.

  And I can see the evil twinkle in his gaze.

  He’s playing with me.

  I’m not sure what he hopes to gain from this, but I know I can’t give him what he wants most all: my desperation.

  “Fine,” I snap.

  I turn o
n my heel and walk away from the both of them.

  And even though I desperately want to turn and glance back at them, I don’t.

  I can’t bear the thought of seeing what might happen next.

  Instead, I slip upstairs and head up to the third floor. Clearly, no one’s interested in what I’m up to, but I move fast anyway.

  When I reach the door of Lucio’s office, I take a deep breath and press down on the handle. I hiss with surprise as the door swings open easily.

  He left it unlocked?

  That surprises me, but I’m so relieved to have gotten in this easily that I don’t question it.

  The office is large, but the storage space seems to be limited. I move to his desk and start opening drawers. Three of them slide open without a problem.

  But they’re all empty.

  I move to the last drawer. Of course, that’s the one that’s locked.

  “Fuck,” I mutter.

  I turn to the empty office space and look around. There are more places to search. I know I haven’t done a thorough job of looking. But…

  I keep picturing Vanessa leaning over.

  I keep seeing Lucio glance at her boobs.

  I imagine what they’re doing right now.

  I imagine what they might do if I take any longer to get back down there.

  Why do I even care?

  It shouldn’t bother me what Lucio does, or with whom.

  And it doesn’t.

  It fucking doesn’t.

  But Vanessa… she’s my friend. And I need to protect her.

  That scanty justification is just convincing enough to get me out of Lucio’s office and back down to the ground floor.

  I’m walking faster than normal, and I try to tell myself that it’s panic. It’s worry. It’s nerves.

  But jealousy is too obvious an emotion to ignore or deny.

  Especially when I turn the corner and catch a glimpse of them through the glass wall that removes any hope of privacy.

  I feel my muscles tighten when I realize that Vanessa is sitting on Lucio’s lap.

  On his fucking lap.

  And he’s letting her.

  She’s running her fingers down his chest, pushing open his shirt to reveal the hard wall of muscle underneath.

  And he’s letting her.

  She’s whispering something to him and giggling at his answer.

  And he’s letting her.

  I can’t hear a word of it, but I know Vanessa well enough to know the kind of spiel she’s trying to sell him.

  I guess, deep down, I’d just assumed Lucio would see through it.

  “Vanessa!” I exclaim.

  She starts as I step into the room with them.

  “Charlotte!” she shrieks in surprise. “Jesus. Where’d you come from?”

  “I need to speak to you,” I tell her through lips that are starting to tremble with all kinds of emotion.

  “Now?” she asks incredulously.

  “Now.”

  Giving an audible sigh, Vanessa gets off Lucio’s lap. “Sorry, baby,” she tells him, making my skin crawl. “Guess we’ll have to continue this another time.”

  She gives him a wink that has me rolling my eyes and follows me out of the house towards the pool.

  When we’re out of earshot, Vanessa grabs my arm and spins me to a stop.

  “Did you get it?” she asks excitedly.

  “I… what?”

  “The cookbook or whatever,” Vanessa reminds me. “Did you get it?”

  “Oh. No.”

  Vanessa looks at me in surprise. Then it quickly turns to annoyance.

  “Then why the hell did you interrupt us back there?”

  That’s a good fucking question. One I don’t actually have an answer to.

  At least, not one I’m willing to admit.

  “Charlotte?”

  “Um…”

  “What the fuck is going on?” she demands.

  “Nothing,” I say defensively. “I just… I don’t think you understand how dangerous the guy is. Seducing him could end badly for you.”

  She raises her eyebrows at me. “And this didn’t occur to you before we agreed on the plan?”

  I groan. “I searched his office. There was nothing there.”

  “You were gone all of five minutes,” she snaps at me. “How could you possibly be sure there was nothing?”

  “Are you trying to say that I didn’t look?”

  “No, I’m trying to say that you were too distracted to look properly,” she slings back at me.

  I snarl, “Distracted by what, exactly?”

  The moment the words are out of my mouth, I regret them.

  I hear my mother’s voice in my head: Never ask questions you don’t want the answers to.

  “You were fucking jealous!” Vanessa gasps, her eyes growing bright with realization. “You like him!”

  “Fuck off,” I say, trying to laugh it off even as the blush surges onto my cheeks.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” she says. She’s smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  “No, the fuck you’re not.”

  “Then why did you look so pissed when you saw me on top of him?” Vanessa presses. “Why did you look like you were gonna be sick when you had to leave us alone together? And why the hell did you run back in there so fast?”

  When I stare silently back at her, she raises her eyebrows.

  “Well?”

  I’m already in a pissy mood, and her combative tone doesn’t help matters.

  “This is not a fucking game, Vanessa!” I yell. “You never take things seriously enough. We’re playing with fucking fire here and if we’re not careful, we will get burned. Don’t you get that?”

  “Whoa… Charlotte—”

  “Just go home, okay?” I say, turning away from her. “It’s been a long day.”

  She looks at me with a shocked expression, taken back by my outburst. “Is there something else going on that I don’t know about?”

  “No,” I mutter. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks. “I’m only trying to help.”

  I take a deep breath, but I still can’t bring myself to meet her eyes.

  “I know that,” I say. “It’s just… I think it’s best if you leave now.”

  Vanessa looks at me cautiously for a moment, and then shrugs. “Okay, I’m leaving,” she says. “We good, babe?”

  “We’re fine.”

  She heads for the back gate. I just stand there and watch her leave.

  I’m coming undone.

  I’ve flip-flopped so badly in the last few hours that I feel as though I have whiplash.

  My chest hurts from seizing up on me so hard when I rounded the corner and saw Van murmuring into Lucio’s ear.

  And when I look down at my stinging hands, I realize that I’d pressed my nails so hard into my palms that I’m now the proud owner of eight crescent-moon-shaped streaks of blood.

  Fuck. “Coming undone” might be an understatement.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  When security closes the gate on Vanessa, I turn and drag my feet back into the house. I mean to go straight up to my bedroom, but I catch sight of Lucio standing by the window and my progress stalls.

  He turns around and catches sight of me.

  His expression is masked. I have no idea what he’s thinking.

  And that pisses me off.

  “Had a good time with my friend?” I ask sarcastically. I shouldn’t do it—it’ll only lead to trouble—but I do it anyway.

  Why do I torture myself like this?

  He doesn’t give anything away, as per usual. Instead, he walks towards me, stopping a few feet short.

  “I was,” he answers. “Until you butted in.”

  “Please,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You don’t even like her.”

  “You know that, do you?”

  “Yes, I do,” I retort. “You couldn’t wait to get rid of her.”

  “Sur
e,” he says with a shrug. “But that was before I knew how… interesting she is.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “So the fact that she was willing to fuck you makes her interesting?”

  He smiles arrogantly.

  It’s a goad. A taunt. Designed purely to piss me off.

  To my massive disappointment, it’s working.

  “Yes,” he says. “It does.”

  “You’re a fucking pig,” I snap. I turn for the door.

  “Charlotte?”

  His voice is soft, almost gentle.

  I stop short and turn to him.

  “Did you find anything in my office?” he asks innocently.

  I feel my blood run cold. His expression is still masked and that freaks me out more than if he’d looked pissed. There’s no telling what he might do.

  I take a step back. “I… I… don’t know—”

  “Don’t. Do not ever fucking lie to me,” he warns.

  There’s no mistaking the threat in his tone.

  I swallow hard.

  “Do you really think I’d leave sensitive information lying around my office?” he continues. “Do you really think I’d let you wander around this house without eyes on you?”

  “I didn’t find anything,” I whisper, proud of the fact that my voice doesn’t shake.

  He moves so fast that my brain hardly has time to register the movement.

  The next thing I know, he’s pinned me against the glass wall, his hips pressed hard to mine.

  I can feel his abs against my stomach, shortening every breath. His hand comes up beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

  “Do you take me for a fucking fool?” he growls.

  I feel his voice as much as I hear it. A rumble in the earth. Thunder in the clouds.

  He’s not hurting me, but he’s on the cusp of violence.

  And we both know how that would end.

  “Vanessa had nothing to do with it,” I tell him.

  His eyes spark, and the gray in his irises look almost molten.

  “Like hell she didn’t,” he snaps. “Do you really think I didn’t know exactly what the two of you were doing?”

  “It was my idea,” I say desperately. “She just went along with it.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” he snarls.

  His hand is loose but still present around my neck. A lingering threat. A reminder of who is in charge.

  But then, out of nowhere, something shifts.

  And his hold becomes softer. Gentler.