Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance

by Natasha Knight

  “Wow. He’s intense.”

  I exhaled. “Yeah.” I couldn’t tell Izzy about what he’d done. What I’d done. Hell, I wasn’t sure myself what it all meant or how I felt about it.

  “Effie, it’s polite to offer chocolates to others first before you dig in.”

  My sister tried to sound strict, but I saw the proud smile she worked to hide.

  Effie turned her big, pale blue eyes to her mom, her mouth working on a second piece of chocolate. She rose to her feet and walked over to us.

  “Would you like a chocolate?” she asked, turning to me first.

  “I’d love one.” I chose a dark chocolate and thanked her. Izzy declined, and Effie shrugged a shoulder and helped herself to a third.

  “How are you doing? You didn’t answer any of my messages. I thought he wasn’t letting you use the phone!”

  I shook my head with a weak smile. “No, it was just drained. I only checked the messages a few minutes before you got here, actually.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to answer next time. I got worried.”

  I nodded.

  “You okay?” she asked quietly.

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t want to cry.” As I said it, the first tears wet my lashes.

  “Shh.” Izzy dug for a tissue in her bag.

  Rainey walked out of the kitchen and toward us just then. I turned my face away.

  “I’m getting ready to bake cookies in the kitchen. Maybe Effie would like to help?” she asked Izzy.

  Effie’s eyebrows rose, and she bounced up to stand. “Oh, can I, Mommy?”

  “You sure?” Izzy asked Rainey.

  After a glance and a small smile at me, she nodded.

  “Sure,” Izzy said. “Thank you.”

  Effie took Rainey’s hand easily, and they walked off.

  “That was nice,” Izzy said.

  “I haven’t yet figured her out.”

  Izzy took my hands. “Are we okay, Lucia? This is important. I know we haven’t talked about it, about me leaving. I was wrong to just take off. I know that. I’m back now, though, and I’m not abandoning you again, okay? You’re not alone, even though it may feel that way right now.”

  I smiled. More tears fell. “We’re okay, Izzy.” It felt good to say that. Felt good to have my sister back, actually.

  She hugged me tight to her, then whispered into my ear. “Are there cameras? Listening devices?”

  Her question surprised me. “I don’t know,” I whispered back. “I haven’t seen any but can’t say for sure there aren’t.”

  She pulled back and looked at me. “The pool looks amazing.”

  I knew what she wanted. “Let’s go check it out.”

  We walked outside and away from the house toward the swimming pool.

  “How is he? When no one’s around, I mean?”

  “Bossy.” I couldn’t tell her about earlier. About any of it. “And gone, mostly. He just got back from wherever he was, actually.”

  “He looks at you like he wants to eat you alive.”

  He scared me, but I didn’t want to say that out loud, and not to Izzy. “I can’t figure him out. He’s horrible one second, then nice. Almost…caring. Like he gives a shit what I feel or think.” I picked a single dandelion growing in the otherwise immaculate lawn. “But then he’s a jerk again, and then he disappears.”

  “Is he making you…” she hesitated.

  “Sleep with him?” I thought of what I’d found in his bedroom and felt my face heat up.

  She nodded.

  “Not yet.”

  “Good. Are you able to come and go?”

  “I don’t know. Not on my own, I think.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. I’ll just come get you. If he wants to send someone to follow us, we’ll deal.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Izzy. I’m stuck here.”

  “Luke and I…We’re not going to sit back and let them have everything. Let them have you.”

  “Luke?”

  “Just because we lost one war, doesn’t mean we can’t start another.”

  “Izzy.” Even in the heat of the day, a shudder ran through me. “You can’t. We lost once, and we had an army to back us.”

  “We don’t need an army. We’ve got access now.”

  “What?”

  Izzy suddenly laughed out loud as if I’d told a joke. It was then that I saw Salvatore standing in the window of his study, watching us. “By access, you mean me.”

  “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yes.” It was all I’d thought of for the last five years and for good reason. “I want my freedom. And I want Franco Benedetti to pay for what he did to us. For what he made Papa do.” I remembered the last time I’d seen my father. It was in that horrible room when I’d signed the contract. Why had I refused to talk to him all these years? He’d tried. He’d come to the college once every month. He’d call once a week. But I blamed him for my fate. And he was to blame, but I also understood he had no choice.

  I should have been more understanding of the strain he was under.

  “And what about him?” she asked, cocking her head in the direction of Salvatore, who’d turned away from the window.

  “I want my freedom.”

  “Well, that’s a start. Let’s go inside, before he gets suspicious.”

  “Cookies are ready!” Effie called out as soon as we got into the house.

  “They smell amazing,” I said.

  She watched proudly as Rainey carried a plateful of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies into the living room.

  “I’m packing up the house,” Izzy said. “Effie and I are moving in.”

  “You are?” I was surprised. Papa had still lived in the house we’d grown up in. I didn’t think she’d want the house but was glad she wasn’t talking about selling it. I wasn’t ready for that yet. The thought—it was just too final. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye to it, ending that chapter of my life so permanently.

  Izzy nodded. “I should have come back sooner than this. I should have forgiven him.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “It should have been me here in your place,” she said, her eyes downcast.

  “I don’t want to think about that.”

  “If it weren’t for me getting pregnant…”

  “Do you keep in touch with the father?” I wanted to know who he was. It didn’t matter anymore, not now that Papa was gone, and even if he had found out, it couldn’t have mattered then either.

  Salvatore chose that moment to walk into the living room. “I could smell the cookies from the study.” His eyes met mine first, his expression guarded, almost cautious.

  “I baked them. Rainey helped,” Effie proudly said.

  “Did you now? May I?”

  She smiled, nodding.

  He picked one up and took a bite. “Well, you did a good job. They’re the best cookies I’ve ever had.”

  Effie gave him a big smile. “They are?”

  “Yep. And Rainey’s a good cook, so that says something.”

  Izzy checked her watch. “We should get going.”

  “You can’t stay longer?” I didn’t want her to go. I didn’t want to be alone with him.

  “I’ve got people coming to help with the house, and we’ll be back with bathing suits soon. Maybe you can come help? I’m packing up some things and moving them to the attic, getting rid of some things. Maybe you want to do your room?

  I glanced at Salvatore, hating that I had to ask his permission. Ask him for a ride. Ask him for everything.

  “When?” he asked.

  Izzy shrugged her shoulder. “Tomorrow or the next day.”

  “I think we can manage that.”

  I felt like I went from my father’s house, to the nuns, to Salvatore Benedetti’s. I was powerless to decide anything for myself.

  “Luce?” Izzy asked.

  I nodded, adjusting my expression. “My calendar is free,” I said, gi
ving Salvatore a smirk.

  He didn’t react.

  “Great, we’ll see you then. Come on, Effie, time to go back home.”

  “Ugh. Home is so boring,” she said, her shoulders slumping.

  “No, it’s not. We’ve just got to find your box of toys. Maybe you can pack up a couple of those cookies for home.”

  I picked up a napkin, tucked the remaining cookies into it, and handed it to Effie.

  “Here you go, honey. Don’t forget your bathing suit the next time you come, by the way.”

  “I won’t, Aunt Lucia.”

  She gave me a hug. Again came the thought that I’d missed out on the first years of my niece’s life. I didn’t know her. I hardly knew Izzy anymore. Or Luke.

  Were Luke and Izzy really planning an attack on the Benedetti family? What did that mean for Salvatore?

  Salvatore walked with us to the door. Once they had driven off and were out of view, he closed it. We stood in the foyer.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

  Shit. An apology was the last thing I’d expected. If he’d locked me in a room, been a beast to me, it would make more sense. I could hate him. But an apology? Him offering to take me to my sister’s?

  “I hope we can forget it and start again,” he added.

  I think both of us found it hard to hold each other’s gaze, and the last thing I wanted to do was talk about what happened, so I nodded. “Okay.”

  He smiled a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “If you ever do something like that again, Salvatore, I will kill you.”

  His eyes narrowed, and apologetic Salvatore was instantly gone. “You don’t have to threaten me with murder. I said I was sorry.”

  He held my gaze until I blinked and nodded, looking down, my attention absorbed by an invisible piece of lint on my blouse.

  “Are you really going to take me to help my sister?”

  “You’re not a prisoner, contrary to what you think, Lucia. This contract between us, the circumstances of our families, those things bind us, and although I have expectations of you and won’t tolerate misplaced loyalty, I’m not interested in keeping a prisoner. Neither you nor I can get out of this, even if we wanted to. We have to find some way to live with it.”

  Even if we wanted to. Did that mean he didn’t want to? And what did I want?

  “I feel like a prisoner. I’m constantly watched. I couldn’t visit with my sister without Marco standing by. I have nothing to do here. You have a cook, people who clean…”

  He looked confused. “You’re neither a cook nor a cleaner.”

  “But I am your property. You said so yourself. I have a degree, I want to work, but—”

  His mouth tightened, and he looked away for a moment. “Come into my study, Lucia.”

  “Why?” I didn’t trust him. And as much as I hated to admit it, he scared me.

  “So we can talk. That’s all.”

  I didn’t move.

  “I promise.”

  After a moment, I nodded. He gestured for me to go ahead and followed close behind me, opening the door to the study once we reached it and letting me inside. Once he’d closed the door, he moved behind his large desk. I looked around the room. The walls were painted a dark shade of gray, and two windows overlooked the backyard and the forest beyond. The furnishings were made of a dark, heavy wood, and his desk, the focal point, must have been an antique. Directly before it stood a leather sofa, and the shelves along two of the walls contained floor-to-ceiling books. Set apart from the desk and sofa was an armchair, the leather well-worn, with a matching ottoman at its foot. The reading lamp behind the chair was on, and although it was sunny outside, this room remained darker. Masculine. Even the scent here was different, all man.

  “Sit down.”

  I realized he’d been watching me take it all in. I lowered myself to the couch and faced him, the desk looming between us, him sitting behind it, making me feel small. I smoothed the skirt of my sundress down, unsure what to do with my hands.

  Salvatore got up and walked around his desk. Surprising me, he joined me on the couch.

  It only made me more uncomfortable, though. If only he’d act like I expected him to…

  “What do you know about me?”

  I studied him, drawn to him, to his eyes. I remembered for a moment how the blue had turned nearly black when he’d been aroused. Remembered how he’d looked at me when I’d lain before him. How he’d taken me in. How he’d gripped his cock…

  Then the image of what I’d found in his bedroom flashed across the screen of my memory.

  I cleared my throat and focused on the firm set of his jaw instead of his eyes. The scruff along the chiseled line told me he’d probably not shaved in the two days he’d been gone, and it didn’t help my wandering mind. I lowered my gaze to his neck, to the exposed flesh there, the T-shirt hugging his powerful chest.

  Shit. This wasn’t working. I was attracted to this man I wanted to hate. In spite of what he’d done, the physical attraction was like an energy between us, a living, breathing, scorching thing.

  I closed my eyes and willed myself to focus. Opening them again, I forced myself to meet his eyes. But when I did, I saw what he saw. He knew his power over me.

  “Were you with a woman the last two nights?” I blurted out.

  He chuckled, apparently surprised. “Not like you think.”

  So that was a yes?

  “I felt ashamed of what I’d done. What I’d made you do.”

  My neck and face heated.

  “That’s why I left. I wasn’t with another woman. I wouldn’t be. We have a contract.”

  “That binds me to you.” Nothing in the contract spoke of any obligation on his part, certainly not one to be celibate or faithful. It was not a marriage contract, after all.

  “And me to you.”

  Now I was confused. Salvatore leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee.

  “Let me ask you again, Lucia. What do you know about me? Or perhaps the better question is, what do you think you know?”

  “I know you’re Franco Benedetti’s son.” I stuck my chin out. “That’s all I need to know.”

  “I think you’re smarter than that.”

  “I know your hand shook when you signed the contract.”

  He paused, his gaze faltering momentarily. “I’m not firstborn. I was never intended to be in the position I’m in.”

  “You mean, being your father’s successor?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re stuck with me? If your brother were alive, I’d be his.”

  “I mean I am obligated to do many things, which I would not choose to do and do not condone.”

  “Me, you mean. You wouldn’t choose me?”

  “Stop putting words in my mouth.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re saying?”

  “Why don’t you try listening for a change and remember not everything is about you, Lucia.”

  Too shocked to retort, I unwittingly did as he said.

  “I’m saying I wouldn’t have created that contract in the first place. But to be fair, your father agreed. Remember that.”

  “My father didn’t have a choice.”

  “He should have been willing to die…” he paused and leaned forward, anger marking his words, an anger I did not expect. “He should have been willing to die rather than see you go through what you did.”

  That last part made me stop.

  “He did die.” But Salvatore was right. And that was why I’d been so angry with my father all these years. Why I refused to see him. He’d given me up without a fight. Salvatore was right. How could he stand by and watch what they did? How could he have offered his daughter to the Benedetti beasts?

  “I don’t want to upset you, Lucia.”

  I wiped the back of my hand across my face, catching the single tear that had slipped from my eye. I shook my head, not wanting to speak for fear I would weep
. It would be easier if he were unkind. Damn him, it would be easier.

  “All I’m saying is I wouldn’t have done what my father did. I would not have required the innocent daughter of my enemy as payment.”

  Fuck.

  I swallowed back tears, knowing he saw right through me all along.

  “But we’re here now. You and I are both here, and bound to one another. I don’t want a prisoner. I don’t want someone who fears or hates me in my own house.”

  “Then I don’t understand. Why do you care what I think? I’m your enemy, and you’ve won. My presence here is proof of that. To your power over me and my family.”

  “I’m not a monster, whether you believe it or not.”

  “What do you want from me, then?”

  “I’ve already told you: your obedience. You give me that, and I’ll make this easier.”

  Obedience. I hated that fucking word. “And if I don’t, you’ll punish me like you did before.”

  “I’ll be creative in my punishments, yes,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  Goose bumps made the hairs on my arms stand on end, and my mind wandered to the restraints attached to the posts of his bed. Would he use those? Was that getting creative?

  Salvatore reached out to softly touch my knee. My mind screamed for me to pull away, but instead, I looked from his eyes to his hand. I swallowed as he stroked the inside of my knee, then my thigh, pushing the dress up as he did so.

  “I think you enjoyed at least part of your punishment.”

  I shook my head, just a small “no,” but kept my eyes on his hand, on his fingers as they drew small circles on too sensitive flesh.

  He slid toward me, making me look up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

  “And it doesn’t always have to be punishment.”

  His fingers left my thigh and touched the top button of my blouse. I watched in silence, unable to speak. He slowly undid the buttons and pulled my top open.

  “Look at me.”

  I did, my breath hitching when I met those cobalt eyes. With both hands, he slid the blouse from my shoulders, leaving it at my elbows. He then explored my exposed chest, my nipples tightening just from his gaze upon them, barely hidden behind the white lace.