Fall (A Mafia Crime Family Romance)

by Bella Love-Wins

  Like baring my soul to him meant nothing.

  Less than nothing.

  Maybe that’s what I need to do as well. To paste on an unaffected expression and forget about all of it.

  But I couldn't pull off such behavior if I tried.

  Returning to my room, I ignore the disapproving look on Vinny’s face.

  “Don’t even start,” I say.

  As usual, he's standing beside my doorway, his hands laced behind his back, his feet shoulder-width apart. He might seem to be doing his job like any other day to everyone else, but I know better.

  “You can’t fool me with your silence. I know that judgy look,” I tell him.

  “I’m just standing here doing my job,” he answers flatly. He pivots his body a half turn as I pass right by him. “Which you know involves watching you like a hawk. Nothing else.”

  “So why do you have to give me that face?”

  “This?” he asks, pointing at his cheeks with both index fingers. “It’s just my face, Miss Romano.”

  "Whatever." I shrug. I don't even have the energy to argue with Vinny anymore. I skulk past him to the floor to ceiling bay windows in my room and stare outside. Not even the warm mid-morning sunlight on my face can improve my mood.

  “The cook came by a few minutes ago,” he informs me, following me into the bedroom like he normally does when I leave the door open. He’s been on me like a cheap suit since he all but confirmed everything I overheard from Nonna about our family having to leave the country. I’m sure he’s sticking around to be cautious, though there might be a part of him that wants to see whether I do something extreme with the information, like confront Father or Nonna.

  “What did she want?” I ask absently.

  “She was curious about what you felt like for breakfast, Miss Romano.”

  I slump onto one of the two cream leather club chairs in the nook of the bay windows. “I’m not hungry. And quit it with the formalities. Save it for when people are around.”

  “Don’t shoot the messenger,” he says, then he coughs and mutters under his breath, “Projecting.”

  “I heard that, pretty boy,” I answer and shoot him a resentful stare.

  He leans against the wall beside the windows, seeming thoughtful. But a second later, he runs a hand over his lightly stubbled, perfectly square jawline and a crooked grin rises on his face. “I meant you to.”

  He's not wrong. Antonio's the one I should be directing this frustration at. Except he's in constant meetings with Father and the Pinuccis. Sadly, Vinny happens to be around, and I can't help but direct some of this anger at him. He's low hanging fruit, a convenient surrogate for the object of my disdain.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, I go over to the night table beside my bed where I left my phone to charge. I begin to check for text messages then let the phone screen go black in my hand before reading any of them. In this mood, I can just imagine how crusty I’ll be if left alone to reply to texts or check emails. And I don’t want to play on any of the games or apps installed. Hell, I don’t think I can use my e-reader right now.

  But before I can set the phone back down, the screen lights up in my hand with a message from Cassandra. Seeing her name pop up somehow puts me in a bit of a mood for girl talk, so I check her message, ready to chat for a few minutes.

  * * *

  Cassandra: Hey chica. You up?

  Me: Hey. Sorry. Yes. I’m here.

  Cassandra: Just wanted to say thanks again for yesterday. The party was awesome!”

  Me: Thanks, Cass.

  Cassandra: I adored your dress too. Hope your bday bash was a blast.

  Me: But you were there. You know it wasn’t.

  Cassandra: True… but it’s not our fault.

  Me: Ur too sweet. Glad you and Tams were here for me.

  Cassandra: Of course. We can do our own soiree to mark your 18th soon. Maybe from my dorm after next week? Or from Tams’. Speaking of… She was acting all kinds of weird last night. Right?

  Me: Maybe. Didn’t notice. Had a lot going on, kinda.

  Cassandra: True… been trying to talk to her all fucking morning. Did she say anything to u at all today?

  Me: No. Probably sleeping. U know how she gets.

  Cassandra: Yes I know, but this is different.

  Me: Different how?

  Cassandra: Well I just dropped by her house, and she pretty much chased me off. Said she couldn't talk to me. I wanna know wtf that's about.

  Me: Who knows. It’s only eight am. Just saying.

  Cassandra: True. Didn’t even think of the time.

  Me: Hey, will ttyl ok? I gotta take care of some shit.

  Cassandra: OK chica. Guess I’ll have to wait for frosh week to have some fun with my bitches, if u kwim ;)

  * * *

  Dammit. A new wave of disappointment overcomes me at Cassandra’s reminders about the start of college. We were all accepted into different schools, but our campuses aren’t too far apart, so we planned to stay close, to study together, and hang out on weekends. Tammy Lou was accepted at Trenton State, Cassandra’s following in her parents’ footsteps and attending Rutgers, and I’m going Princeton.

  Was going.

  I swallow hard to push down the dry lump in my throat, struggling with this new fucked up reality. College was supposed to be my way out. Even Father agreed that it would be best. He wants a different life for me, but even a man as powerful and influential as him has to answer up the chain. This was the reason he didn’t go against the family when the whole arranged marriage to Giorgio thing was decided.

  But Father just broke ranks. Everything’s up in the air now. Who knows, maybe I’ll be free of this Giorgio sham too.

  I hope it fucking is, if I have to give up Princeton because of all this.

  I can’t believe I’m not going.

  Not this year, anyway. All that focus on my studies. All those nights of sacrifice for my fucking SATs. All that time with tutors, and chasing around my teachers for all the possible extra credits I could earn.

  Wasted.

  All because I’m a member of this family.

  Because we live by rules that were set in stone long before I was born. And now that Father’s broken one of them, we all have to pay.

  It wasn’t enough that I was raised practically a prisoner in this house. Italian prison, Nonna would joke whenever I complained about not being able to have the kind of normal social life that every other teenager around me was used to. Now I have to say goodbye to college? To my friends and everything I know? And worst of all, I can’t talk about it with anyone. Because I’m not supposed to know yet.

  But when the time comes, how exactly am I supposed to walk away without telling my best friends that our college plans are fucking shelved?

  I stare at the phone screen with my thumb hovering over the keypad for a long minute, not sure how to reply to her. If I agree, it’s an outright lie. And I can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.

  As I wrack my brain for some response to keep our conversation going, my eyes lift up just as Antonio hurries down the hallway past my bedroom door with not even a glance.

  It hits me again. We had one unforgettable night.

  Just one.

  And I’m going to lose him too. Who knows for how long.

  The repeated sting of that realization is terrible, but what I can't stand right now is the way parts of my body have started to add to the reminder. Like my nipples. They're sore and sensitive from his touch, and won't stop tingling under these supposedly soft cotton bra cups. And my lips, still raw and swollen from his urgent, demanding, mind-blowing kisses. And fuck, it's as though every square inch from my waist down to my knees are still on fire.

  I run the back of my hand up my neck, and it stops at the spot Antonio devoured. My skin seems hotter there. I wouldn't doubt he left a mark on me. Setting down the phone, I walk into my bathroom and turn to one side to take a look. He marked me, all right. There's a round, red blotchy bruise
on my neck, a few inches above my collarbone. It might as well be a bright neon sign.

  Antonio was here.

  Like a brand.

  Like a claim on me.

  Except he can’t lay a claim on me. Well, he has, but he’s not supposed to.

  “That looks pretty painful,” I hear Vinny’s words before I see his reflection in the mirror as he stands beyond the doorway, his face just inches above the very same mark.

  “It’s not. And by the way… stalker much?”

  “Why are you busting my balls this morning?” he asks, folding his arms over his broad chest. “It’s my job to watch your back… and your front. And that nasty little love bite on your neck.”

  I roll my eyes at him in the mirror without replying.

  “You might want to cover that up,” he adds.

  “Ya think?” I shoot back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

  I should feel bad as I watch him grunt out an annoyed groan, making an about turn to head back to my outer bedroom door. I've not been very kind to him today. We're normally so much more relaxed when he's with me. But I'm the one who's flipped the script and am being a total bitch to my friend. I owe him too. If he didn't confirm what Father, Nonna, and Antonio have been keeping from me, I'd still be here, making assumptions, in the dark about the massive change that's about to take place in my life, like an ignorant, naive, stupid teenage girl.

  “Sorry,” I say, hoping he hears me.

  I’ll find a way to make it up to him after this is all over. At least I’ll have him with me, wherever this hell ride is headed. I’ve lost so much already, and the little I have left is about to slip through my fingers.

  Antonio included.

  And there’s nothing I can do about it.

  "Fuck my life right now, " I groan, clearing my throat, and lean forward for a closer look at the hickey. I try zipping up the velour and cashmere blend hoodie I have on, but it only hides one edge of the mark. Resorting to cosmetic tricks, I find the green concealer and foundation in my makeup kit and get to work at making the visible evidence of my indiscretion disappear. As I do, I can't help but wish for a product for the marks that Antonio left on my soul. Or the invisible muscle memory I have of every spot where his skin, hands, mouth, teeth, tongue, and cock imprinted my body.

  My thoughts wander again, reviving each forbidden act from last night like an X-rated highlight reel projecting into my brain. His mouth on mine, my fingernails gripping his bedsheets, his hands spreading my ass cheeks, his thick shaft drilling into my hole.

  Fuck.

  This is too much.

  Setting down the makeup and cosmetic brush, I give my head a shake. With a flick of both hands at the sides of my neck, I throw the hooded fabric of my sweatshirt over my head, and pull the drawstrings tight on my way from the bathroom to my bed, and crawl back under the sheets. Nothing will bring my overactive, overly scattered thoughts in check, so I may as well shut out the disaster that is my life.

  13

  Natalia

  When the bosses are away, the workers will play.

  The boss's daughter will play too.

  Father is distracted. He has his eyes on everything but me, so he won’t kill us for crossing forbidden lines.

  Nonna has been stuck on her phone and has no time to talk to me, or to tell me that I’m promised to Giorgio, or that Antonio is like family, or too old or has no business messing with me.

  They’re doing what they do best.

  Working their asses off to preserve what they’ve built.

  To protect me too.

  I don't know what to do with myself. I'm overloaded with emotion from the fact that I'm still not in the loop about where exactly I'll be. Any sane person would be wound up from this much uncertainty.

  I have a day or two left here.

  The only clarity I have is about Antonio.

  I won’t waste a second.

  Vinny doesn't object when I order him to take me to Antonio's quarters. His staunch disapproval is visible on the scowl that forms harsh lines on either side of his mouth and between his eyebrows for the entire walk between the two structures. But I get the sense that it has more to do with whatever's going on between him and Antonio than the idea of sneaking around behind my father's back. Outside Antonio's room, when I tell him to go back to my room and guard the door like last time, he gives me a dismissive head shake, but replies with, "Yes, Miss Romano. And would you like me to lie about your whereabouts should anyone like say, your father comes looking for you?"

  "Don't be a pain in the ass," I answer and flash a scowl of my own right back at him as my hand hovers in midair, ready to knock on Antonio's door. Vinny knows that at this hour, Father will assume I'm asleep. He's making this point to provoke me. "What's with you? You know the goddamned answer to that. If you have a beef with me or disagree with what I'm doing, either say what it is or shut the hell up. I don't need your passive aggressive crap."

  “Whatever you’d like, Miss.”

  I stand at the door and watch as he charges off, his broad, ripped body surprisingly swift as he disappears around a corner, wishing I knew what his deal was.

  "What are you doing here?" I hear Antonio voice the callous question and jump a bit.

  "I was about to knock," I say as I turn, stating the obvious, given that my fist is practically at his chest level, my knuckles about to make contact with his bare pec. With my gaze now glued to his correctly defined, gorgeously tanned, naked torso, it's hard to look away from it to meet his awaiting eyes.

  He pulls me into the room with his hand under my elbow and shuts the door behind me with a hard slam. “How did you get here alone? Did anyone see you?”

  The sting of his words is like its own rejection. I shouldn’t feel this way. He’s wise to be cautious. Father would kill for much less than this indiscretion. Sure, I know I’m being reckless. Just a beat, I’d like to hear him sound like there’s something good about this thing happening between. That I’m worth the risk. Not like it’s only a burden. A dangerous misstep. A menace to his happiness.

  “If you want me to leave, I’ll go,” I huff.

  But as quickly as the words are spoken, he places his open palms on the door on either side of my head, boxing me in.

  "If you keep this up, he'll find out." Antonio's tone is cold, but his eyes are softer than I've seen them all day. "No one around here would ever want to cross your father, least of all me. I'm betraying him by standing here talking to you like this." He slips one hand to my shoulder, and his fingers rake through my hair. "You're standing in front of a dead man. My sentence just hasn't been carried out yet. You see that, right?"

  I can’t stand that everything he says is true. The only thing I hate more is the fact that my body doesn’t care about a word he’s saying. The gritty tremor of his voice goes right to my core. His musky, masculine scent makes my nipples tingle, and my breath catches. And my pussy is clutching tight around nothing at all from the way his large body looms so close to mine.

  “Can you?” he repeats.

  I look him straight in his eyes, as headstrong as ever. “I’m just as dead as you are, if not more.”

  “So why are you taking another chance?” he demands.

  “What are you trying to say? You don’t want me?” I ask, and hear my whispered breath come out so small and meek and full of pain that I immediately regret asking the question.

  He huffs out a breath, and his large, callused hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, pinning me in place. "I have no right to want you, Natalia. Don't you understand? I shouldn't even look at you, let alone touch you."

  "All day long, you've been acting like last night meant nothing," I say, my voice raised, my panting breath jagged and unsteady.

  “How do you want me to act in front of everyone? Like you’re mine? For fuck’s sake!” he shoots back.

  “Well, you know what? I—” I start, but the rest of my words are stolen. Smothered. Extinguished by the hungry
kiss that crashes against my lips and propels the back of my head against the door.

  Every doubt in my mind is put to rest when one arm extends around the back of my waist and with a jerk, lifts my body up along the door until we’re at eye level and my feet no longer touch the ground. Wedging a knee between my upper thighs, he keeps me elevated while his other hand slides under my loose zippered sweatshirt. He cups my bare breast beneath and teases the nipple with the pad of his thumb, circling the puckered nub with the same force that his tongue invades my mouth. I’m breathless and buzzing, overcome as he possessively drags the zipper of my top all the way down until there’s nothing but air between our exposed torsos.

  He moves his insistent kiss across my chin to the whorl of my ear. The heat of his wet tongue drives my senses into overdrive. I'm like a wild woman, feeling his wicked, invisible tendrils that reach all the way to my tender nipples and throbbing clit.

  “Antonio,” I moan out his name on a trembling breath as he sucks, nibbles and teases his way down my neck to one breast.

  He pulls the nipple between his teeth and circles the tip with his tongue, heating and cooling each spot in a move that catapults my need. I’m so aroused, so soaked from desire and pleasure I’m sure he can feel it through our sweatpants.

  “Oh God,” I whimper, and he lifts from my breasts, wraps my legs around his waist, and carries me to his bed.

  My ass hits the bed at the same second his fingers slip beneath my waistband. I’m out of my sweats and panties in an instant, and Antonio strips himself bare just as quickly. He lowers his head between my legs spreads my thighs apart.

  “Fuck,” he growls, and my head lifts off the bed in time to catch a glimpse of his eyes narrowing into a wild stare. I’m so wide open that I’m sure every imaginable shade of pink is on display along my folds, clit, opening, and inner walls. “You’re so fucking wet,” he groans when his hot, hard tongue rests against my folds.

  Lifting my hood, he slowly licks my flesh all the way down to my puckered hole, then returns, all the way up to that spot above my clit that always makes my lower belly flutter.