Her Mafioso King (The Vitucci Mafiosos Book 4)

by Terri Anne Browning

  I smiled against her hair. “Whether you like it or not, tesoro, I’m a part of your life again. You’re mine, and I’m going to prove that you can trust me.”

  Chapter 10

  Anya

  Walking into the dining room at my brother’s house the next morning, I was surprised to find Adrian still home. He and Victoria sat together at the dining room table, lingering over their coffee and waiting for me.

  I’d barely gotten two hours of sleep. I was pissed, exhausted, and not in the mood for anything my darling brother had to say.

  Not that my glare stopped him.

  “Why didn’t you call me when the club was vandalized last night?” he demanded as he stood to confront me.

  “Because it isn’t your problem. It’s mine.” I grabbed a croissant and turned to leave. I had no time to argue with him and no desire to hear what he had to say in the first place. Adrian stepped in my path, refusing to let me go so easily. “Get out of my way, Adrian. I have a busy day ahead of me.”

  “Who did it?” he demanded, but his tone was quiet, trying to soothe me.

  “You mean the informant who told you about the break-in didn’t tell you who the culprit was?” I sneered.

  “Anya.”

  “Some Sorrentino bitch and her stepbrother.” Victoria cursed softly, pulling both our gazes to her.

  My sister-in-law looked shocked and pale with anger at the mention of Sorrentino.

  “What is it, kotyonok?”

  But her focus was on me. “Gianni Sorrentino? Martina?”

  “Or so Cristiano informs me. You know them?”

  Her fingers shook as she set her mug onto the table and pushed her hair back from her beautiful face. “Martina is a vindictive bitch. She was a year ahead of us in school, but no matter how hard we tried to avoid her, she was always there, ready to cause trouble. Scarlett broke her nose when we were freshmen. Papa paid for Martina’s reconstructive surgery to keep Franco Sorrentino from running his mouth, but it wasn’t like Franco cared. She’s his son’s adopted stepdaughter, from his second marriage. Franco hates them both, especially the mother, and he takes his hate for his daughter-in-law out on Martina. He was just looking for an excuse to start trouble with Papa.”

  “And the stepbrother? Johnny or whatever the hell his name is?”

  “He’s an idiot for the most part. Blindly in love with Martina. She doesn’t return the sentiment, yet uses his feelings for her to get what she wants. The combination is dangerous. Ciro and Cristiano had to step in plenty of times because Gianni was always trying to retaliate against us after the broken nose incident. Ciro nearly killed him once when he followed us home from a club when we were sixteen.”

  Adrian’s eyes narrowed on her. “Was it so bad that this is why you’re scared of the Sorrentino family? Because I don’t see that as a possibility, kotyonok. It would take more than some guy following you two home to make your hands shake as they are right now.”

  “None of them scare me. Their entire family just irritates me greatly.” When we just stood there, staring at her, she grumbled something under her breath and continued. “In another life, Franco could have been my father. Aslinn’s family was going to ally with the Sorrentino family, even though Franco is twice Papa’s age. It was why she came to New York in the first place. But Papa was at the same meeting, and as chance would have it, they fell for each other instantly. Or so the story goes. Honestly, I don’t really know all of it. Papa and Franco are the only ones who know what happened.”

  “This alliance with Aslinn’s family would have made Sorrentino more powerful than Vito?” Adrian asked skeptically. Neither of us could imagine that happening, no matter how powerful Victoria’s mother’s own family was then or now.

  “Doubtful, but it would have made them a little more evenly matched if a war suddenly started between the families. After Aslinn picked Papa, it enraged Franco Sorrentino so much he tried to kill my mother. More than once, according to the rumors. One time while my brother was with her.” She rubbed at a spot between her brows for a moment before dropping her hand and shaking her head. “The story goes, Papa was going to kill Sorrentino and his entire line—everyone, no discrimination for age or gender. But for once, my mother took pity on someone, proving maybe she actually did have a soul, after all. It’s all just a story now, more rumor than fact, but they all say that instead of taking out the entire Sorrentino line, she decided to hit back by killing Sorrentino’s daughter-in-law, Gianni’s mother. Which she did, personally. Franco adored his son’s first wife, however, and the blow hit him harder than it did Gianni’s father. Some say that Franco was in love with the woman, that Gianni might even be Franco’s son rather than his grandson and that is why he made Gianni his heir. It’s all rumors, though. No one knows the truth but Franco himself. And ever since, Franco has been looking for a reason to go to war with Papa, but he’s been unable to find one—and too scared to start it on his own. He has been waiting, itching for an excuse to shed blood. Now, Papa is sick—” her breath hitched, but she went on “—and his power is vulnerable for the very first time. With Cristiano taking over, the elders can try to unseat him.”

  “Going after the old man’s heir would be a way to start a war,” Adrian surmised.

  She blew out a pained sigh. “If Cristiano goes after Gianni, which he will, considering what Gianni has done, Franco will definitely want war.”

  “I don’t want to go to war with anyone. Nor do I expect Cristiano to avenge me and start one on his own,” I assured them. “I have nothing to do with Cristiano or his seat or whatever the fuck it is Sorrentino wants. I simply desire to execute Martina and send her head back to her stepbrother.” I tore off a piece of the croissant and popped it into my mouth.

  “Why did Martina hit the club like that anyway?” Victoria inquired with a frown.

  “I fired her.”

  “Is that all?” my brother demanded, outraged.

  “I told you she’s vindictive,” Victoria reminded him.

  “She was doing drugs and fucking around in the club. It wasn’t just her. I fired ninety percent of the staff, including the bouncers.” Which I was still pissed about. The people I should have been able to trust the most, protecting not just my club but the patrons as well, had been high off their asses right along with everyone else for who the fuck knew how long.

  If Adrian’s men had still been working there, I knew the majority of the shit that was going on wouldn’t have happened. But they were just following orders since Westin hired a “security firm.” A wicked grin touched my lips as I remembered how badly that stupid fuck pissed his pants as I questioned him the night I caught him in the storage closet. It didn’t make any of this better, but it made me feel a little vindicated.

  --

  By the time I got to Iron Hand, all the parking spots were filled up. Including my normal one. After having to park a block away, I hurried to the club, knowing good and well at least two-thirds of those vehicles didn’t belong to my contractor or his men.

  Before I even opened the front door, I knew what was happening. The loud New York-accented Italians running around cleaning up the place and assisting the contractor’s crew alerted me Cristiano was following through on his promise from the night before. Even though I told him not to, the pain in the ass.

  The crew must have been at work since I’d left the night before because the difference in the place was like night and day, literally. Already, the walls had been repainted, and all the broken tables and chairs were gone. Behind the bar, three men were stocking new bottles of booze, while someone else unloaded glassware. It no longer smelled like stale liquor, and I didn’t hear them sloshing around back there, so I figured they must have fixed the drain and mopped up.

  Up on the VIP level, my contractor and his crew were finishing up the new additions I’d requested, but there were at least five new guys helping out.

  As I walked toward my office, I pulled out my phone and stabbed my finger on
Cristiano’s name on my contact list. He answered just as I was opening my office door.

  “Good morning, tesoro. How are you?”

  I gritted my teeth, refusing to let my heart leap at his continuing to call me his treasure. “I told you not to send a crew. I don’t want your help, Cristiano.”

  “It is my privilege to make your life easier, Annie,” he answered calmly. “Did they not do a good enough job? Is the place still a mess? I’ll come deal with those lazy-ass fucks myself if they’re just sitting around.”

  Stepping into the office, I found the place almost perfect. The desk was upright once again. A new chair identical to the old one was in place. The walls were still damp, but the message from the night before was gone. There was even a new computer in the center of the desk with a few sticky notes letting me know how to unlock everything and that all the data had been transferred from the busted computer and loaded onto this new one.

  His men had definitely been busy. But what caught me off guard momentarily was the sight of a beautiful bouquet of roses sitting on my desk. “No, the place is already cleaned up, and they’re working hard,” I muttered as I pulled the card from the little envelope in the middle of the vibrant red flowers.

  A hand-scrawled heart followed by a simple C at the bottom was all that was written on the card, but I knew who it was from.

  “Thanks for the flowers,” I clipped out as I sat down behind the desk.

  “Your sarcasm wounds me, tesoro.” I could hear the grin in his voice, and I clenched my fingers around the little card in my hand, crinkling the corners. Realizing what I was doing, I set the piece of paper down and started smoothing it out.

  “How much do I owe you?” I asked once I had the card safely tucked away in my desk.

  “Nothing.”

  “Everything comes at a price. I would just like to know how much all of this is going to cost me up front.”

  “The only repayment I will take from you is you.” His voice was lower, sexier, causing me to squirm in my chair.

  But as turned on as his voice made me, I wasn’t an idiot. Nor was I a whore. I wasn’t going to sell myself to him for a few hours of labor I could have paid for myself. “You have some big balls saying that to me, Vitucci.”

  “I’m sure you remember just how big they are, baby.”

  “You can’t buy me with a little cleanup crew, Cristiano,” I snapped, ignoring the delicious shiver that ran down my spine. “I know my self-worth, and it would take about ten million more dollars to even scratch the surface of winning me over with material things.”

  “Anya, you’re priceless. I know that, so don’t turn this around on me like that.” He sounded less calm now, and I enjoyed the fact that I could push his buttons. “I’m not trying to buy you, damn it. I just fucking want to take care of you!”

  “You want to take care of me now, but it won’t last. It didn’t five years ago, and it won’t now. Do us both a favor, Cristiano. Just leave me the hell alone.”

  “Anya—”

  Angrily, I disconnected the call then powered off my phone and tossed it into the desk drawer along with the little card. I wasn’t falling for his shit this time around. I wasn’t giving in, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to fall at his feet like the love-sick fool I once was.

  No matter how much a part of my heart wanted to.

  Chapter 11

  Cristiano

  I tossed my phone onto the desk the instant I realized the little minx hung up on me. She was maddening. No matter how loud I screamed my feelings, she wasn’t going to accept them.

  I couldn’t blame her, not after the fuckup of all fuckups I, and I alone, was responsible for. But I was ready to make amends and get back what I lost.

  Groaning, I scrubbed a hand over my stubble-roughened jaw and stood. Sitting around wasn’t going to get her back. Anya needed proof I wasn’t playing around this time, and I’d give it to her.

  As I headed for the front door, Ryan came bouncing down the stairs. “Papa, are you leaving?”

  “I’m going to pay a visit to Anya, figlio. She’s having a bad day at work and needs cheering up.”

  “Can I come?” he asked with hope in his eyes. “I’ll be good, Papa. I swear.”

  My first reaction was to say no. In fact, there were at least ten good reasons to tell him no, but I paused. Would it be so bad to take Ryan with me? Anya loved him; he adored her. She was more likely not to kick me out of her club if I had a little incentive to stick around for a little while.

  Grinning, I held out my hand for him to take. “Just this once, Ryan. Maybe with you around, I can talk Anya into having lunch together. We can hope, right?”

  He smiled as he took my hand. “Right!”

  Vince and Rob were already waiting for me outside. Seeing Ryan with me, Vince went to get the booster seat out of the limo for him.

  As we pulled up in front of Iron Hand a while later, Ryan gazed around with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Rob and Vince flanked me as I walked into the club with Ryan holding on to my hand. Inside, he saw all the men working and relaxed a little. He liked to build things with his Legos, so seeing the construction crew was a treat for him.

  “Can I help paint, Papa?” he asked longingly as we passed a few men putting another coat of paint over the main wall.

  “Maybe next time, figlio. I thought we were going to treat Anya to lunch.”

  “Oh yeah.” He glanced around expectantly. “Anya works here?”

  “Yes. This is a club where people come to dance and relax. Right now, it’s having some repairs done to it, so Anya shouldn’t be so busy she can’t have a meal with us, don’t you think?”

  “I hope so, Papa.”

  Reaching the office, I let him knock before opening the door. As we entered, leaving Vince and Rob outside the door, Anya’s head snapped up. Her blue eyes darkened with annoyance when she realized it was me, and she opened her mouth to blast me.

  “Anya! Are you hungry? Papa said we were going to take you to lunch.”

  The angry flame in her eyes died down to a simmer as she got to her feet and smiled at Ryan. “That sounds like a great idea. I’m starving,” she assured him as she slowly approached him. Crouching down, she waited for him to take the last few steps, and when he did, throwing his arms around her neck for a hug, I fell a little more in love with her as her face melted with affection.

  She hugged him back, squeezing him lightly. When he pulled back, he touched a spot on her cheek. “Have you been crying, Anya?” he asked with concern.

  It was then I realized she had tear track down her face and her eyes were slightly red. Fuck, had I made her cry? The idea of it gutted me, but I didn’t think it was possible to make her cry.

  She smiled fondly down at him. “It’s been a really long day so far, l’venok. It’s okay to cry when things get to be too much. Otherwise, everything will build up and cause an explosion.” She tapped him lightly under the chin. “But you’re here now, and I’m all cheered up. What do you plan on feeding me?”

  “Pizza!”

  “Perfect.” Standing, she offered him her hand, and without hesitation, he grabbed it, holding on tightly. Finally, she looked at me, and her lashes flickered before lowering just enough to block me out. “Well? We’re hungry, Papa. Know a good Italian place that serves the best pizza?”

  I should have felt guilty for using my son to get to spend time with her, but the sight of his little hand in hers fed my soul. “I might know somewhere like that,” I mused. “Grab your things.”

  Ryan’s hand still in hers, they walked around her desk, and she grabbed her phone from her drawer. Instead of keeping the phone, however, she handed it to the boy. “Here. You know how to work this?” He nodded enthusiastically. “Power it on and have at it, l’venok. If anyone calls, ignore them. They have nothing to say I want to hear.”

  By the time we got to the SUV and Ryan was in his seat, he already had the App Store open and was requesting two diff
erent games. Anya readily pressed her thumb down so he could buy them, then stayed close to watch him play during the ride to one of the many restaurants my family owned.

  That she was ignoring me didn’t bother me. Much. She was playing with my son, and he was enjoying the attention she was giving him. The difference in Ryan since meeting Anya was like night and day. Even Vince and Rob noticed and were shooting them subtle glances during the entire ride.

  When Ryan giggled at whatever Anya whispered to him, something contracted painfully in the vicinity of my heart, and I couldn’t keep myself from touching her. I draped my arm over the back of the seat, cupping her neck and squeezing. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into my touch.

  Rob pulled to a stop outside of the restaurant, and she jerked away from me, using the excuse of helping Ryan unbuckle his seat belt to make me drop my hand.

  “What do you like on your pizza, Ryan?” she asked as they retook each other’s hand and walked ahead of me into the pizzeria.

  “French fries.”

  “I think I love you, kid,” she laughed.

  The place was set up like most small pizzerias in the city. Booths and tables in the back, a kitchen at the front, with a brick wall separating the front counter and the back where the pizzas were made in a traditional brick oven. The smells coming from the kitchen permeated the air, making my stomach growl with a hunger I hadn’t felt until right then.

  A waitress was already talking to Anya when I stepped in behind them. “…sorry. We’re slammed right now. It will be about a fifteen-minute wait.”

  “Cristiano!” a booming voice called out from the kitchen area.

  I turned, a grin already on my face as I shook Fredo’s beefy hand.

  “How the hell have you been?” Fredo demanded, stepping back to inspect me.

  “I’ve been good.” I glanced at Anya who was crouched down on Ryan’s level. His anxiety was showing on his face as he stared around at all the strangers, but her closeness was easing the frown from his brow. He held tightly to her hand, and she spoke softly to him, distracting him from the crowd filling the dining area. “Real good, lately.”