Her Mafioso King (The Vitucci Mafiosos Book 4)

by Terri Anne Browning

  I pressed my thighs together, trying to fight off the sudden painful throb his nearness was causing between my legs. I pressed my hands against his chest, trying to back away, but his gaze was locked on mine, holding me captive in a way no physical restraint ever could.

  “I have missed you every day of the last five years, Annie. Every damn day. Stay. Let me show you how much I’ve missed you. How much I still need you.”

  His words were like bullets, each of them a direct hit to my heart. Internally, I flinched at the brutal connection to my most vulnerable organ. Externally, I remained completely still, glaring up at the man who still had the power to pulverize my soul with just a handful of words.

  “You’re not allowed to miss me,” I told him in my coldest tone. “You were the one who left me. To marry someone else, no less. If, as you say, you did miss me, that’s all on you. It’s no one else’s fault but your own.”

  “I agree.” He lowered his head, his breath brushing over my lips, my cheek, then my ear. “You’re right. I have no one else to blame but myself. I was an idiot. There is no other excuse. But I’m done being stupid, tesoro. I want you back.”

  “No.”

  “I’m fucking in love with you,” he groaned against my ear, his breaths coming faster as he stroked his hands down my spine and over my ass. “I love you so damn much, Anya.”

  “N-No,” I stuttered, pushing away from him, putting much-needed distance between us. “No!” My voice was stronger now that I was away from him. “Don’t ever say that to me again, Cristiano. Ever.”

  With each step I took away from him, he followed after. “I’ll say it whenever I want. Because it’s true and I’m tired of hiding how I feel. I’m tired of being without the other half of my fucking soul. I love you. I have always loved you. Come back to me, Anya. Give me another chance.”

  He was tearing me apart, each word out of his mouth like a killing blow that went deeper than my heart, straight to my soul. My eyes clenched closed as the days, weeks—the fucking months—following his leaving me replayed through my head, haunting me. Destroying me all over again. I was finally back to my old self. The me I was before I let love fill my heart and break everything inside my soul. It took me five years to get back to who I was under all the pain and shattered pieces. Five years that I almost didn’t make it through because the misery was just too much to bear.

  He knew none of my misery, though, and I wasn’t about to let him know just how low I’d fallen because of him. I felt his breath on my neck again, and my lashes snapped up as I allowed the anger blazing inside me to blast him like cannons. “Fuck you, Cristiano. Fuck you.”

  It seemed to be becoming my normal as I practically sprinted out of the house and dived into my car. My hands were shaking as I started the vehicle, my heart racing like I’d just run an entire marathon.

  I don’t know how I got back to Iron Hand, because my mind was still back there in that hall outside Ryan’s room. With Cristiano, his touch searing into me, branding me as his own all over again. Hearing him say he loved me. It was the first time he’d ever said those words. In my heart, I always knew he did. The words hadn’t been needed back then. I loved him. He loved me. It was as simple as that. Why waste our breath speaking the words aloud when every time we were in the same room with each other, our feelings surrounded us like an aura, letting the world at large know we were in love.

  But then he left. He broke things off without a word and married someone else, and I questioned all of the things I thought I knew about what he felt for me.

  If he loved me, he never would have married someone else.

  If he loved me, he wouldn’t have fucking left me in the first place.

  If that was how he thought of love—if it was so fucking dismissible—I wanted nothing to do with it.

  My mind was still on the scene with Cristiano when I walked into Iron Hand, but as soon as I was inside, all my senses were suddenly on red alert. The contractor and his crew were gone for the day. They wrapped things up by seven at the latest most days and were nearly finished with all the repairs and changes I wanted made to the place.

  A twisted feeling in my gut had my hand reaching for the lights as I walked into the first floor. Rage burned through me as I looked around at the mess. A rainbow of black, red, and neon-colored spray paints was on the walls and floor. Graffiti and hate-filled words calling me a whore, a cunt, and a few other imaginative terms that were misspelled. Chairs were broken on the floor, tables upside down and marred with the same spray paint. Behind the bar, most of the liquor bottles on the shelves were now on the floor, broken and flooding the area despite the drain that was back there. All the glasses were shattered, making it a death trap as I walked through the chaos that was once my serenity.

  From the bar, I could see the VIP level, and that area looked just as destroyed as the downstairs did. Over by the DJ booth, the speakers had giant holes in them. It too was marked with the signature of the spray-paint artist.

  Cursing violently, I rushed to my office. The door was kicked in, hanging half off the hinges as I walked into the disaster. Papers were thrown everywhere. Liquor and other supply orders littered the floor, along with employee files I kept in case my computer system ever failed. My desk was upside down, my computer across the room, the screen shattered.

  Behind where my desk once sat, there was a message for me.

  Told you you’d be srry bitch.

  Those words, tossed at me by the pissed-off waitress that first night, echoed in my head as I read them over and over again on the wall of my office. My hands balled into fists, but a manic laugh left me as I waded through the sea of papers.

  The bitch was going to pay for this.

  Chapter 9

  Cristiano

  Cursing under my breath, I watched Anya run away from me.

  Again.

  The woman was maddening, but I expected no less from her. She wasn’t going to forgive me easily, I knew that much from the get-go. Her stubbornness was unmatched. She was pissed at me, hurting. Her walls were up, and although I could see she was letting Ryan in, she refused to give me so easy a passage.

  But I knew she still wanted me. She could put on her mask all she wanted, but I knew everything about her body. She couldn’t hide the pulse at the base of her neck that thumped like a scared little rabbit’s heartbeat. Or the way her nipples hardened the moment I got too close. Her face might have been devoid of emotion, but she had no way to disguise the way her skin flushed with need, the pretty pink color crawling up her neck, turning her blue eyes into a molten inferno of lust.

  Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I swallowed another curse and went to check on Ryan.

  He was sound asleep, his mouth slightly open as he snored softly. After making sure he was tucked in the way he liked, I left his room and headed to my own room. But I was too restless to sleep. Instead of trying, I changed and texted Ciro to ask him to listen for Ryan while I was out.

  I wasn’t just going to let Anya run away from me. She wanted to make me sweat, wanted to make me chase after her, show her I wasn’t just blowing smoke up her ass with the confession that spilled out of me earlier. And I was willing to give her that. If she wanted me to chase, I would follow her to hell and back. Whatever she wanted was hers, with the exception of letting her go. That wasn’t ever going to happen.

  Stupidly, I’d let her go once. I wasn’t going to repeat my mistake.

  After another text, two of my men were already waiting for me with my blacked-out, bulletproof SUV pulled around by the time I got downstairs.

  “Where to, boss?” Vince asked as he got in the front passenger seat.

  “Iron Hand,” I muttered distractedly, my mind still on Anya and our earlier conversation.

  “Boss, don’t you know the place is closed for the next few weeks?” That had my head lifting to stare at my old friend and bodyguard. “Heard one of Victoria’s guards talking about it the last time she came for a visit.”

&n
bsp; “Why the fuck is the club closed?” Anya wouldn’t willingly close her club unless she had a good reason. Iron Hand was her baby. It had surprised the hell out of me when I found out she’d left it in the hands of a management service five years before to go back to St. Petersburg.

  He shrugged. “Maybe it’s the renovations she’s doing. Or the fact that she fired most of her staff.”

  “We still going?” Rob, my driver, asked.

  “Fuck yeah, we’re still going.”

  Outside the club was like a ghost town compared to what I was used to seeing. Other than passing traffic, there was no one else around. No bouncers. No line two blocks long of people trying to get into the club. The lights over the building weren’t on, giving it a haunted feel. If Anya’s car hadn’t been parked in its usual place, I would have thought she’d gone home.

  Rob pulled up beside her car. Vince opened my door and started to follow, but I shook my head. “This is a personal call, not business.”

  He grinned wickedly but didn’t comment as I headed toward the back entrance.

  Usually, there was a bouncer at this door as well, but the alcove was empty. I knocked, not really expecting an answer. When none came, I checked to see if it was locked. Muttering a curse when I found it was, I walked around to the front.

  I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or pissed to find the front door unlocked. Anya was the last woman in the world I needed to worry about being able to take care of herself, yet she was the one I worried about the most. Stepping inside, I already had an argument ready for her when I stopped dead in my tracks.

  The place was a disaster, and I pulled my gun from the holster under my suit jacket.

  Glass smashed on the floor, chairs overturned and destroyed, spray paint on all the walls. The smell of liquor pulled me behind the bar. Broken glass had filled the drains, blocking the flood of booze from draining.

  “Anya!” I roared her name. “Anya, where are you?”

  I heard movement from her office and sprinted toward the sound with my gun at the ready. Her head popped out of the room, and I relaxed marginally. Her beautiful face was pinched in anger as she came out of the office, her eyes on fire she was so pissed.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  Dropping the gun at my side, I pulled her against me with my free arm. “Fuck, woman. I thought something happened to you.”

  “Something did.” She tried to push me away, but I only tightened my hold. With a heavy sigh, she gave in and leaned into me. We both knew she could have gotten away from me if she really wanted to. It probably would have left me with a broken arm, but she would have done it without regret if she truly wanted me to release her. “That fucking cunt destroyed my club!”

  I pressed my lips to the top of her head, closing my eyes as I thanked God she was okay. “The club can be fixed, but I can’t replace you.”

  She let me hold her for another few seconds, soaking up the comfort I was so willing to offer. When she pulled back this time, I let her go. “I was looking at the security feed when I heard you,” she spoke over her shoulder as she went back into her office.

  This room was worse than the rest of the club. This was where the real rage had been expended. Anya’s chair had been sliced with a knife, the stuffing in the comfortable desk chair spilling out of it like entrails, and I fought back a shudder as the image of Anya sliced open just like the chair flashed through my head.

  The computer was completely destroyed. I doubted anyone would be able to get anything off it now. From the message on the wall over the desk, I knew this was personal rather than just some stupid kids fucking around in an empty building.

  “Do you know who did this?” I asked as I followed her through the office and into the hidden room where her surveillance equipment was kept. This room was untouched, but I hadn’t suspected otherwise. I doubted even the management service staff knew about this room.

  “I could take a good guess.”

  Anya sat down at the table and hit a few buttons, pulling up all the cameras that were throughout the club on the dozen screens before her. Hitting rewind, she backed the feed up until she saw a woman dressed in black leggings with a black hoodie pulled up over her face first appear. The woman had half a dozen men with her, and they left nothing untouched as they destroyed the club from top to bottom. As we watched, I called Vince.

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “There’s been some trouble here.”

  “On our way.”

  “None of these motherfuckers look familiar to me,” she groused as she hit pause on a frame and enlarged it to get a better view of some of the men.

  “Hold up.” I sat in the extra chair and took over, making the picture a little clearer. When one of the men’s faces came into view, I didn’t try to bite back the curse that left me. “Fuck.”

  “What? Who is he?”

  I heard Vince and Rob in the office and called out to them. “Get your asses in here.” When they appeared, I pointed to the screen. “Maybe I’m seeing things. Tell me if that’s Gianni Sorrentino or not.”

  Vince moved closer so he could get a better look at the screen I was pointing to. After a few seconds, he stepped back, cursing.

  “Who the fuck is Gianni Sorrentino? And where do I find him?” Anya was already on her feet, ready to go for Sorrentino’s jugular then and there.

  I had no doubt she could take him on. That wasn’t the problem. It was Sorrentino’s grandfather I was more worried about. The elder Don was one of the few who wasn’t happy I was taking Pop’s seat. He was the only one openly showing antagonism so far, however. The one who wanted me to basically kiss his ass and grovel at his feet to be allowed to take over for Pop. That would never happen. I didn’t kiss anyone’s ass. Ever.

  Fuck, I didn’t need this shit right now. But it looked like they weren’t leaving me much choice. There was no way I was going to let Gianni get away with destroying Anya’s club.

  “If you don’t know Gianni, then what beef does he have with you to make him do this?” I demanded, turning to face her.

  “Not him. Her.” She pointed to the female in black. “The message out there is from the waitress I fired a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Boss.” Rob had been watching the other screens. When he pointed out a better angle of the woman, I zoomed in on her and enlarged the frame to get a clearer view of her face.

  “Yeah, that’s the bitch,” Anya seethed.

  “Well, that explains Gianni,” Vince said with a harsh sigh.

  “Yeah,” I growled, pushing to my feet. “Why did you fire her, Annie?”

  “Does it matter?” I gave her a hard look, and she rolled her eyes. “I caught her in one of the storage closets downstairs. She was blowing the manager, high off her ass, and tried to feed me some bull about the guy forcing her and holding her job over her head. I didn’t believe a word out of her mouth.”

  Vince and Rob snorted in wry amusement, and I could only shake my head as I pointed to the woman’s face frozen on the screen. “That is Martina Sorrentino, Gianni’s adopted stepsister. Franco Sorrentino hates her mother, and her by proxy. But Gianni is supposedly in love with the little bitch.”

  “She’s a cocktease where he’s concerned,” Rob spoke up. “Won’t give him the time of day unless she needs something from him.”

  “And I care about any of this, why?” Anya’s gaze was on Gianni, memorizing his face, no doubt planning how she was going to kill him. I couldn’t let her do that. Franco would come after her if she offed his heir, and then I would have to slaughter the whole Sorrentino family.

  “Because going after Gianni will be starting a war,” I told her matter-of-factly. “He is Franco’s grandson and heir.”

  “Again, I should care…why?”

  “You shouldn’t care at all, Annie. This is my problem. I’ll deal with it. And Gianni.” I got to my feet and finally replaced my gun in its holster.

  “The fuck you say. This is my problem, but it
won’t be a problem for long. Just tell me where I can find this Gianni and Martina, and they will both no longer be anyone’s problem.” She put her hands on her hips, glaring me down. “Or don’t. I can find out everything I need on my own. You telling me just makes it easier.”

  I grabbed her by the elbows before she could say anything else, shaking her firmly enough to let her know I meant business. “Listen to me, Anya. Do not—I repeat, do not—go after Gianni on your own. Trust me to handle him.” She rolled her eyes, which still sparked with fury. “I swear to you on my son’s life, I will deal with the Sorrentino problem. Just give me a little time, tesoro. I’ll make them pay for doing this to your club.”

  That deflated any argument she had, and she went slack against me. “This sets me back by weeks,” she muttered unhappily. “The reopening is scheduled for next weekend. I’ll never get this place ready by then.”

  “Don’t worry about that either,” I promised. “I’ll have a crew in here first thing in the morning to clean everything up. Just relax a little, Annie. I won’t let you down.”

  “So you say.” She pulled out of my arms and turned back to the cameras. “You three can go. I have shit to do.”

  “Anya…”

  “Just leave me alone, Cristiano. I can take care of this on my own. Don’t worry about me causing a war. I won’t put Ryan in the hands of fate since you swore on his life, but I’ll handle the club on my own. Just go. I’m too tired to deal with you anymore tonight.”

  I wrapped my arms around her from behind, trapping her arms against her sides to protect myself as much as to lock her in place. Pressing my lips to the side of her head, I whispered in her ear. “A crew will be here in the morning. Iron Hand will be ready to go right on time. Let me do this for you. Let me take care of you.”

  “I don’t need to be taken care of,” she gritted out. “All I need is for you to leave me the hell alone so I can live my life.”