Mob Princess: An Arranged Dark Mafia Romance (Cruel King Book 2)

by Callie Vincent

  Hell raining down on us wouldn’t stop until either side was dead.

  “Argh. Fuck, Bonnie. Come on,” Israel hissed.

  I glared at him. “Hold. Still.”

  “It hurts.”

  “Of course, it hurts. It’s stitches. Now, stop moving.”

  I pierced his skin with the sterilized needle and he jumped again, forcing me to start over. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and let out a hefty sigh, trying my best not to get frustrated with him. I mean, he had saved my life and all, and I wanted to respect him for that. But, this was getting a bit ridiculous. Even I tolerated pain better than he did, it seemed.

  “Damn it,” he grumbled.

  “Seriously, Israel, do I need to call the doctor again? He’ll have a numbing solution for you, I’m sure. And I’ll douse you in it if it’ll keep you fucking still.”

  He scoffed “I don’t want anyone in this house right now except you and me. Which by the way, we need to talk, so tuck in that attitude of yours.”

  I stuck his back again. “Yeah, I’m sure we do.”

  He ripped away from me. “Ah!”

  I reached for him. “Damn it, Israel. Suck it up for a second and—”

  He peered over his shoulder at me. “Now, you’re doing it on purpose.”

  “Well, if you would stop moving, it wouldn't hurt as much.”

  “And if you want to survive this, I suggest you stop hurting me intentionally. Might give me the wrong idea.”

  I snickered. “It’s your fault if you think I’m not on your side in all of this. I’ve abandoned the only family I’ve ever known because they’re trying to kill me right now.”

  “Doesn’t mean you won’t try to kill me once they stop.”

  I stood up. “Yep. I’m calling you a doctor.”

  He sighed. “Wait.”

  I paused, still holding the needle in my hand. “What?”

  He grunted as he shifted. “I’ll hold still. Just—just listen to me while you work. All right?”

  I peeked over my shoulder. “You’ll hold very still?”

  “As still as a weed in the dead of night.”

  I blinked. “Fine.”

  I made my way back to his side and knelt back down. With the needle firmly in my hands and his knees firmly planted into the hardwood flooring, he gripped the edges of the couch while I sewed the small puncture wound in his back. He was good at not moving, though his sweating had me a bit on edge.

  “Are you sure you don’t need—”

  “Just. Finish,” he growled.

  After tying off the last stitch, I surveyed my work. Not a bad job for only having done it four other times in my life. But I still wanted him to see a doctor in a few days if the stitches gave him trouble. I wiped across my work of art with an alcohol swab, and he hissed in pain. Just as he promised, though, he didn’t move.

  So, I reached for the massive band-aid. “All right. I’m going to cover the stitches. I’ll need to go out and get—”

  “I’ll get what we need so I can shower and stuff. Just finish what you’re doing so we can talk.”

  I shrugged. “Okay.”

  And after smoothing the band-aid over his skin, the two of us sat on the couch.

  “Bonnie, I want you to survive this. That’s what I need you to know,” he said.

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “But someone just came into our home and cornered you in the kitchen. And you were unable to defend yourself.”

  “If I had a gun or something—”

  He snickered. “I’m not giving you anything like that.”

  “Why? Because you’re scared I’ll kill you in the middle of the night?”

  His eyes met mine. “For starters? Yes.”

  “Some marriage we’ve got, huh?”

  He grinned, but I didn’t follow suit. Mostly, because I didn’t think it was funny. I didn’t want our marriage to be like this. I didn’t want things to be this way. I wanted us to love one another and respect one another and fight on the same team. Not fight against each other. But, apparently, Israel thought this was cute.

  And I wanted to punch him in the throat for it.

  His grin fell away from his face. “Anyway, I want you to survive this. But I also want to make sure you’re not going to turn on me. I can assume you’re intelligent enough to understand why I would feel this way.”

  I nodded curtly. “Yep.”

  “I want you to check in with me every hour on the hour.”

  I blinked, not sure I heard him right. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I need to know when you're okay and when you're not. Today we got lucky. Had I come in even moments later, I would’ve found your dead body. We need something at close intervals to trigger when I should come home, and when I’m okay to stay out. This is the only way we’re going to achieve this.”

  Is he kidding right now? “A text can be easily faked.”

  “Which is why you’re going to call.”

  If he really thought I’d do this, he was as crazy as I assumed. “Let me get this straight. You want me blowing up your phone every hour on the hour when you’re not around, which is always, by the way. You’re gone before I get up and not back until after I go to sleep. Am I supposed to run on your hours now?”

  “Bonnie, that isn’t—”

  “Am I supposed to set my alarm clock for every hour in the middle of the night?”

  “You’re taking this a bit too—”

  I shrugged. “This was your idea. Are you going to come barging in at seven in the morning because I didn’t get up to call you?”

  He stood to his feet quickly. “Enough!”

  I jumped at the intensity of his voice and knew better than to say anything. So, I waited for him to continue.

  “Enough.”

  I sighed. “This isn’t feasible.”

  He bent forward, gripping my chin with his fingers. “Are you listening?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Good. You’re going to get up at nine—every morning. And from nine in the morning until ten o’clock at night, you’ll check in with me. Every hour on the hour. I want to know who you’re with, what you’re doing, and when you’ll be done doing it.”

  “And if I don’t agree?”

  He patted my cheek. “I’ll have your phone traced every second of every day. Your choice.”

  I wanted to claw his eyes out. How dare he treat me like some common prisoner when I’d shown him nothing but loyalty and grace? Did this man really still believe I was going to slit his throat in the middle of the night? Or poison him with some sort of drink? It made me wonder if he could ever feel for me the way I knew I felt for him. It made me wonder if I’d ever win his trust, or build a strong relationship with him, or even get a glimpse into what it might be like for him to love me.

  Maybe he’ll kill you once this is all over anyway. “How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”

  He grinned. “You don’t.”

  Cheeky little asshole. “Are you going to check in with me every hour on the hour?”

  “If you call, yes.”

  I tilted my head. “So, you’re going to tell me who you’re with and what you’re doing just like I’m going to?”

  “No. I’m not.”

  I snickered. “Then, I get to hack your phone, too.”

  “Not how this works.”

  I stood, pinning him with a glare. “That’s exactly how this works. I’m in this with you, Israel. I’m betraying everyone and everything I’ve ever known, and not just to save my own hide. But yours as well. You can trust me. I’m not going to—”

  He shot up from the couch. “Says the woman who married me under a false name with a false identity, and never told me about any of it until she was backed into her own little corner.”

  He has a point. “What can I do to prove to you that I’m really on your side in all of this?”

  “You can do as I’m telling you to do or you can get o
ut. Those are your only options right now.”

  I didn’t like how overbearing he’d become. I didn’t like the controlling monster he’d turned into. But I saw it in his eyes. I saw how strung out this entire situation had made him. I saw the stress washing over his body and the anger fleeting behind his eyes and the frustration in his balled-up fists. And the longer I stared at him, the more that tough facade melted.

  Until his hands gripped my shoulders, and his stare held my gaze. “Just do this for me, Bonnie. Please.”

  And in my wildest dreams, I never thought I’d ever hear the great Israel Rossi say the word ‘please.’ Except sarcastically, perhaps.

  “Okay.”

  He sighed. “Thank you.”

  “Under one condition.”

  He rolled his eyes. “What?”

  I closed the gap between us. “You’re going to run the same schedule with me. No more being gone by the time I get up and coming back after I go to sleep. If I’m going to run this schedule, so will you. And we’ll at least enjoy coffees and dinners together. Okay?”

  His eyes danced between mine. “Is that what you want?”

  “More than anything.”

  He kissed my forehead. “Then you’ll get it.”

  “Is it always this easy to negotiate with you?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  “I’m just saying, if I proposed an alternative to this situation that didn’t inconvenience us so much, would you at least listen to it?”

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Probably not.”

  He eased himself back down onto the couch. “Fine. Let me have it.”

  I knelt in front of him and took his hands within my own. “I’m more than willing to stay under this roof for most of the time if you put more guards around this place. The two downstairs aren’t going to work. For all we know, they didn’t even know what was going on up here. We need more guards downstairs and all around this place.”

  Israel nodded. “Done. And trust me, I intend on interrogating those guards downstairs to make sure they weren’t in on this.”

  I grinned. “Well, go easy on them. Two men can only do so much, no matter how heavily they’re armed.”

  His eyebrows ticked. “I take it you have another request?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Quit the act, Israel. I know that behind all of this anger and frustration, you’re worried about me. And I’m worried about you. So, instead of taxing our phones and having to keep track of time constantly, why don’t I just accompany you whenever you leave?”

  He blinked. “I have to work.”

  “And I’ll come with you. I can sit in the waiting rooms, or help some of your workers with things.”

  “You’re not coming to work with me.”

  I snickered. “Fine. Okay. How about this, then? More guards downstairs, I come with you whenever you leave, and in exchange for going along with this particular plan, you get to have me every night.”

  His eyes darkened. “Say that again.”

  I kissed his hands. “As a prize for taking me along whenever you leave so we can both keep track of one another, you can have me every night. Any way you wish.”

  His hands slipped out of mine, and he crooked his finger beneath my chin. He raised my eyes to his level as a wild grin spread across his face.

  My toes curled, and my gut clenched. I wanted nothing more than to kiss that grin right off his face.

  “If we do it this way,” I said carefully, “you can see first-hand what I’ve got planned for this turf war. We can work together, in real-time, to make sure we come out of this on top.”

  When he spoke, his voice commanded my attention with all of its huskiness and strength I admired so much in him. “I’ll be on top, all right. I always come out on top, no matter what I’m doing.”

  I smiled. “I take it you accept my counter-offer?”

  “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

  I raised myself up to kiss him, but he turned his head. And instead of my lips falling against his own, they fell against his stubbled cheek.

  Hurt filled my stomach, and I wondered why he still didn’t want to kiss me. I had just offered my body to him every night, all night, for the chance to be closer to him and to spend more time with him. Yet, he still didn’t want to kiss me?

  It twisted my heart.

  There’s still time. You can fix this.

  Did Israel want to fix this? Because in all of the years I’d spent watching my uncle and my aunt break and mend their marriage, I learned one thing throughout all of it: Both parties had to be willing to fix things.

  “I’ve got some phone calls I have to make,” he said, pulling away. “I’ll be in my office.”

  He stood from the couch and stepped around me like I was nothing more than furniture.

  “Sounds good,” I said softly, confused.

  “You should make yourself a nice, long bath. And if you’re still in it once I’m done, I’ll come join you.”

  I whispered. “Will you really, though?”

  “What was that?”

  I thought quickly as I stood. “I said, ‘I really should, though.’”

  He nodded. “I’ll come find you once I’m done.”

  I watched him walk down the hallway and back into the kitchen. Heading, well, wherever the fuck it was that he wanted to work. I turned myself toward the stairs and tried to ignore the pounding in my head. Mostly, because I wasn’t sure if the pounding was from the fear of everything, the excitement of my deal with Israel, or the nervousness that he might actually kill me in the end.

  “Come on, Bonnie,” I murmured. “You can do this.”

  And as I moved towards the stairs, I heard Israel’s voice wafting down the hallway, already distracting himself with something else.

  4

  Israel

  I heard the whirring of the elevator and strode from the kitchen. I’d been trying for the past few days to work as much as I could from my penthouse so I wouldn’t have to take Bonnie with me anywhere. And, despite our deal, I hadn’t yet done anything with her in the evenings.

  I couldn't bring myself to do it. That woman made me weak. She made me feel as if she had my balls in a vice grip, and I didn’t need that kind of distraction in my life. Not while our lives were on the line.

  But a visit from my brother was much overdue. I greeted him the moment the doors opened. “Giovanni.”

  “Israel,” he greeted, catching me in a bear hug.

  I clapped him on the back, glad to see him. I grunted as his hand came down against my stitches and the extensive bruising that had resulted because of them. Still, it didn’t stop me from hugging the life out of my younger brother.

  I mean, I hadn’t seen him since the wedding.

  He cupped the back of my head. “How are you, brother?”

  I sighed. “Could be better. But what is our world without someone trying to kill us?”

  “You speak the truth, Iz.”

  “It’s good to have you here, Gee.” I released him. “How long are you staying?”

  Bonnie’s voice piped up behind me. “Giovanni, I didn’t know you were coming.”

  My brother shot me a look. “You didn’t tell her?”

  I snickered. “Do you tell your girlfriends anything?”

  He whispered. “She’s your wife.”

  I shook my head. “She married me under a false name. That nullifies our marriage agreement.”

  Bonnie cleared her throat. “You know I can still hear you two, right?”

  Giovanni held his arms out for her. “Come give your kind of brother-in-law a hug.”

  I chuckled, but Bonnie didn’t move. And I didn’t like that. I didn’t like the fact that this woman—who was practically a stranger in my home—wasn’t playing the part she needed to be playing.

  You’ve got one chance, Bonnie. “Come on. Give him a hug.”

  Her eyes slowly slipped over to me. “I’ll hug him when I’m
ready.”

  Giovanni looked over at me. “Well. Anyway. I’ll show myself to a room.”

  As Giovanni picked up his things, I set my sights on Bonnie. She sure as hell wasn’t ever going to be rude to a guest like that in my home ever, ever again. And if she had to learn that lesson the hard way, then so be it. Giovanni was family. That man was my brother. He had always been there for me whenever I needed him, which had been many times. Especially growing up in the kind of household we did. He was welcome here anytime, and no woman that lived with me would ever turn a cold shoulder to him. Oh no, I’d see to it myself that Bonnie’s attitude changed, and quickly.

  Otherwise, I’d toss her out into the street until she decided to drop the disrespect.

  5

  Bonnie

  I knew Israel was going to be upset with me, but he could kick rocks. I had never liked his brother, not from the moment I laid eyes on him.

  You know how, sometimes, you can just look at someone and see the sliminess dripping off them? That was Giovanni, and the number of ass pats I got from him at my own wedding while Israel had his back turned to me made me sick to my stomach. Granted, it was my fault for not telling Israel any of this was going on. But, at the time? I was just trying to keep my head above water.

  But, as Giovanni left to go get settled into his room, I felt Israel staring at me. Stalking me out, like a hunter following a blood trail to the victim of its bullet. So, I stilled the roaring seas of my stomach and looked him straight in the eyes. Because the last thing I needed to be doing right now was showing weakness.

  Israel ground his teeth together. “So. Not a fan, I take it?”

  I clicked my tongue. “No, I don’t like him. Never have.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem. And one you need to fix quickly.”

  “Well, I don’t appreciate you bringing someone into our space when—”

  Israel lunged at me. “This isn’t our space, Bonnie. It’s mine. And I’m letting you dwell in it until further notice. That man is my brother. He’s family. And you will treat him as such.”