Dark Heir: Dark Mafia Romance

by Faye Pierce

  “He knows that the DePonte deal was made by you, Sir.”

  “I know. That’s the whole point.”

  I’m not bothered by the idea of Caspian coming for me. Time’s up for one of us. I’m done waiting.

  My car is waiting by the time we reach the steps to the car pass. The door opens for me, and I ease myself inside. “Don’t worry Angelo, all is going according to plan.”

  My warehouse is in shambles.

  I can already tell from outside that Caspian’s rage has torn through the place in a hailstorm of bullets. I can tell my men didn’t give up their payload easily. It’s too quiet, the only sounds to interrupt the silence as men are loaded into cars the occasional ragged breath, and the slow-moving tires passing over gravel and bullet casings as those cars transport their precious cargo off to the private doctors I keep on staff for exactly this reason.

  I don’t take pleasure in my people getting hurt.

  From everything I’ve learned about my father, he was the sort of man to play fast and loose with a good deal of his men. Only the inner circle was ever really protected. In so many ways the story of my father is a legend. To me, it’s riddled with weaknesses I can improve upon, and I plan to. This particular little debacle was a necessary evil.

  I leave the car and head into the warehouse. Just as I suspected, the crates are open, and there are scuff marks on the floor where Caspian’s men dragged the crates out of here. They are all marked with the DePonte emblem, of course.

  “Giovanni.” I get the attention of the warehouse. He turns to me. Other than a black eye he appears fine. I shake his hand, “We managed to salvage three of the crates there in the back it looks like? Good man, good man.” I clap him on the back and start toward those crates as if going to check those too.

  “It looks like they got the shipment from today though, boss. I’m not sure how they knew it was happening. I swear we been careful, boss.”

  “I know you have. I don’t know how they knew either, but I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Where are we on moving the remaining inventory?”

  “Got a truck arriving in thirty to clear out the warehouse; cleaners arrive about an hour after that. Good ones too, it’ll be like we were never even here by sundown.”

  I nod. “Good, that’s what I’m paying them for.”

  Giovanni doesn’t know that the guns weren’t in there; he’s still doing the best he can. He’s a good man to have working for me.

  But knowing that any of the crates remain gives me a sense of unease tightening in my stomach. The further I head back into the warehouse, the worse it looks. Machines and packing materials are strewn about the place. The amount of blood is thicker here.

  But why? Why concentrate their efforts here unless they believed that the really good stuff was back here? If that is the case, then why leave it?

  The dots connect a moment too slowly, and I hear the screech of tires just outside the open loading bay doors. Shouting and shuffling feet come second.

  One thing I made sure to learn over the course of my time with Caspian is all of his battle formations, for lack of a better term. Caspian might be newer to this world we live in, but he is a fighter through and through, scrappy, with an eye for tactics, unlike anything I’ve seen before. I can see why he did so well for himself so quickly, and I fully intend to do even better. I’ve learned from both his mistakes and my father’s.

  What to do.

  What not to do.

  Like not allowing myself to be surprised in my own damned warehouse.

  Either Caspian’s men knew there are no guns in those crates and the whole thing was all a ruse, part of my power play, or they’ve come back for what was missed the first round.

  Unluckily for them, they aren’t going to be returning to an abandoned warehouse like they expect. I’m ready for them. I’m not going to allow this one surprise to ruin so many years of careful planning.

  I signal to my men, and they move into position easily. In quiet, quickened movements they draw their weapons and wait for Caspian’s men to enter.

  There’s more of them than I expect. They ambush us quickly.

  This is what I’m best at, if I’m really honest with myself. This is what I was born for. I’ve always had an attraction to violence that I can’t explain.

  Perhaps I’m an adrenaline junkie. I like the smell of gunpowder in the air. I like the feel of my fist colliding with just about anything really. It’s not that I have a temper. I keep solid control of myself when I need to. When the opportunity presents itself though, I can’t help it.

  My feet move on their own accord. The boxing and hand-to-hand training that I’ve participated in since my childhood makes weaving through the bodies second nature to me. Giovanni tosses a gun in my direction, which I catch easily before I throw myself into the fray. I should stay back, being the leader and all, but I never could understand those generals who would hide behind and plan whenever their front line gets to see action.

  This day is turning out better than I predicted.

  It’s apparent to me that Caspian isn’t taking this threat lightly. These men that he’s sent to finish the job, they are not the B squad. These are people that he knows will get shit done. At least that’s an ego boost.

  I work my way through them, one opponent at a time, and my next punch is deflected by the exact same move I would use to block. This man and I carry on in this dance until it becomes obvious who I’m sparring with. He’s the only man I’ve ever been evenly matched in a fight with, a man that I trained myself: Antonio Vargas.

  Ammunition exhausted, we fight knuckle to knuckle, neither one of us willing to give up ground. I hit his jaw, and he responds with a jab in my kidney. He’s younger, but I’m stronger, faster, and I need to win.

  So I do.

  The fighting dies down around me, and I can hear our win in my men, victorious but not boastful. Soon, it’s only me and Antonio left locked in battle. I have him on his knees, my fist cocked back, victory only a moment away.

  Recognition took Antonio longer than it did me. He’s lost. His men are defeated. He knows that he’s looking his death in the eye, swollen eye, busted lip and all.

  Still, I hesitate.

  Something I absolutely should not, cannot do under any circumstances. I’ve seen what happens to men who show weakness in times like this. I’ve seen the consequences when exceptions are made. I know that it always, always comes back to bite you in the ass.

  Still, I trained Antonio. I was there with him at three in the morning when his night terrors wouldn’t allow him to sleep and he needed to hit something. I was there to teach him how to harness his anger. I put him in Caspian’s hands, and now…

  My fist lowers.

  He’s going to run back to Caspian and tell him everything. How can he not? Letting him would mean showing my hand more than I would like. I shouldn’t care if this man lives or dies. Then again, if I recklessly throw away life...what am I doing this for?

  Am I any better than Caspian if I murder everybody who gets in my way?

  “I know you’re going to go running to Caspian with your tail tucked between your legs.” I’m speaking mainly to myself. I pick my words carefully, making sure this mercy sounds like confidence, not weakness. “You go ahead and tell him that DePonte is coming for everything he stole. You tell him that’s a promise.”

  I drop him and stagger backward. I wipe the back of my hand against my lip, not that it helps to clear the copper tang from my mouth. Antonio coughs his own blood onto the ground. I’m sure he will relay my message. I can see the way he wraps an arm around his torso. He's likely got a cracked rib. Even with the vest he’s wearing.

  Vest.

  Why is he wearing body armor to return to a place that they thought was cleared?

  “Boss?” The voice is Angelo’s. He wants to know why Antonio isn’t dead, and what comes next.

  “How many dead?” I ask instead of answering.

  “Sixtee
n, Sir.”

  I spin, looking over the bodies. “They were too armed to just be collecting what they missed,” I say to myself under my breath. My fingers dance over the carnage, ticking off the bodies in a mental count. All of them are wearing those same vests. Ever since Midnight, Caspian insisted that they all wear the things unless they know it’s a cleared building. Like they should have thought this one was.

  “Why now? Why send so many for just a couple crates?” I say, louder this time, so Angelo can hear me. My eyes gloss over my own men, a sinking feeling returning. Were those crates left intentionally?

  “What are you getting at, boss?”

  “Why come in armored cars...vests...to pick up guns?” My eyes narrow as my voice lowers, “Somebody tipped them off.”

  Chapter Five

  Midnight

  “This is more a pool than a tub,” I mutter, sinking lower into the obscenely extravagant bathtub. Jets are built into the sides; it might as well be a jacuzzi. I turn the faucet from off to on with my big toe, adding bits of hot water into a tub that’s threatening to overflow at any moment.

  Damn Leo for knowing I wouldn’t drown myself.

  I’ve never wanted to die, and I certainly don’t want to now. I want freedom. I’ve always been a fighter, Leo knows that. Even before now, he’s said as much. After my accident, I went through months and months of rehab in order to learn how to walk again. Leo always supported me. Pushing me to work harder, to go farther. At the time it felt like he was simply being an asshole and wanting to see how far he could push me and get away with it.

  Guess that habit hadn’t ended with time either.

  My thighs clench under the water, seeking friction. What is he playing at? If I am simply to be held for ransom, an object to hurt Caspian, then why did he have to do what he did? I can still feel the sting on my ass; I can feel the ghost of his fingers curling inside me. I don’t know what happened between Leo and Caspian. I don’t know what made him decide to betray his best friend like this. Everything he’s said to me so far implies that something big must have happened that they didn’t bother to tell me about.

  Did I miss it somehow? Have I been too absorbed in my own life and business to realize they were fighting right in front of me? Cas refuses to allow me to be involved in his work. He doesn’t even like Leo hinting at what goes on behind closed doors. Any hopes of being a part of that part of Cas’ life ended when that bullet nicked my spine.

  Why keep me in this room? Why give me access to everything he has? Leo easily could have kept me downstairs in that room, locked to that bed. He could have let me rot down there. What is he playing at? My fingers pull at the skin of my lower lip.

  Why did he touch me like that? Leo has always been the type of man to take what he wants; it is why he and Caspian work so well together.

  Worked.

  Whatever they had together is over now.

  So what if his hands felt amazing? When Caspian rescues me, as he will, Leo is a dead man.

  Why does that bother me?

  Leo kidnapped me. He stole me. He chained me to a bed, he stripped me in the dining room, and then he…

  My hand slides down my chest between my breasts, shifting and turning lower as my eyes close. Leo bent me over the table and pulled my shorts down; he marked me over and over again, that sharp bite of his hand against my skin and then his...

  My head falls back against the edge of the tub as my legs part under the bubbly water, my fingers moving to recreate exactly what he did.

  His hands are strong, calloused from years of fighting. His grip is powerful and yet so dexterous. This is the very last thing that I should be doing right now. My fingers are too narrow, they don’t fill me the way his do, but I try. With my eyes closed, I can hear his voice in my ear, that husky way he commanded me to promise him I would behave. Would he say this is behaving?

  Like I manifested it, the bedroom door bangs open.

  Startled, I yank my hand from between my legs and clamp them shut. The flush to my cheeks and my rapid breathing is a dead giveaway as Leo rounds the open French doors into the bathroom.

  “Don’t stop on my account.” A bottle of whiskey is clutched in his fingers, a glass pinched to the side of it with his index finger. Leo’s shoulder lands heavily against the doorframe as he looks over as much of me as he can see.

  Naked.

  I’m naked.

  “Leo! Get out!” I proclaim without thinking. My arm wraps around my breasts, and I sink lower into the water and its traitorously dissolving bubbles. Then I notice. “Jesus, your face!” I exclaim. Leo’s face is mottled, swollen in places. His knuckles are bruised and split; his hands look like the blood on them is only half his. His hair messed and his clothes wrinkled. Is this why he left dinner? Is this why he had to leave so suddenly?

  My stomach is in knots. Who hurt him? I shouldn’t care.

  It wasn’t Caspian, was it? Is Caspian okay?

  The fear is going to cripple me—the two men I care for more than anything else in this world, in danger for reasons I don’t even know.

  No, one man. All that matters is Caspian. Caspian has to be okay. I push the fear, the need to cry, all of my indignation at Leo’s intrusion down deep inside of me. Somewhere near the useless longing I have for Leo.

  I want to help clean him up like I’ve done so many times before. I want to bandage him up. I want to throw things at his head and beat my fists into his chest.

  I fumble for the towel next to the cold mug of tea Lily had brought up after dinner. I’m still not certain if it is the tea or the air that’s drugging me into such deep sleep over and over again, so I didn’t drink it. I knock it over in my awkward fumbling.

  “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Leo says, brow lifting as if he honestly expected me to show sympathy for him. He shifts the bottle from one hand to the other and pours himself another shot. “Don’t you dare touch that towel.”

  My hand pauses. “Or what?”

  “You know what.” Leo levels me with a look, downing the contents of his glass. I do know what. Only seconds ago I was attempting to mimic it, and guilt floods me. “Your brother is giving me grief, you know that?”

  I can’t remember how to breathe. “Is he...is he—”

  “Fuck, Midnight, I’m standing here bleeding and broken, and you want to know if he’s okay? What about me?” Leo’s lip curls into a sneer, and he looks down at the glass in his hand pointedly.

  “I don’t care if you’re okay.”

  “Liar.”

  “I hope he kills you,” I spit, trying to make it true.

  “Liar. Twice,” Leo snarls, looking back to me. “Though it’s certainly more likely now that you’ll get your wish. He’s bound to know exactly who I am now. But before you get your hopes up that he’s about to make some daring rescue just because he knows who I really am, you’re mistaken.”

  Now it is my turn to snarl. “You’re screwed, Leo. You know Caspian will stop at nothing to get me back.” I force a cruel laugh as I fold my limbs up around me in an attempt to keep myself covered. “He will come for me, and he will kill you. Whatever this bullshit coupe is - you’re going to lose.”

  Leo swirls the contents of his glass around twice, “Maybe.” it sounds so final, as if there’s no way he could possibly lose. His forest green eyes lift to me “Maybe not. Would you mourn me, Midnight? You’re in here touching yourself to memories of me, you can’t want me to die that bad.”

  “I-I am doing no such thing.” I lie again. I’m sure my hot cheeks are giving me away.

  “I’ll do you one better.” Leo sets his glass and bottle down on the vanity and moves to the foot of the tub. He gestures for me to stand with one finger. “Get up,” he commands.

  “Fuck off.”

  His nose crinkles in irritation, just like it had before he put his hand around my neck earlier. Fuck, why is that face so enticing? Leo is insanely attractive on a regular day. His determined, single look of focus shouldn�
��t make him more attractive. It should be frightening.

  “Right.” Leo pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and toes his shoes from his feet. “I warned you about this.”

  “What are you—” My eyes widen as he steps into the other end of the bathtub, and moves for me. I try to scramble away but his strong hands catch me under my arms and lift me like I weigh nothing. I shriek and attempt to wrap my hands around myself, and Leo’s hand slaps mine out of the way.