Mafia Princess

by Bella J

  I wasn’t surprised at all since that was just Dante being Dante. He was never one to follow rules, always wanting to see how far he could bend them before they would finally break. But my dad? I’ve never seen him as mad as I did that day. He slapped Dante across the face so hard my brother had a handprint on his cheek for a week. Plus the Italian that came out of my dad’s mouth that day was something I’d never dream of repeating.

  It was after that incident my mom managed to persuade Dad to let us have just the tiniest slither of freedom—especially whenever there was something that needed celebrating. She blamed Dante’s antics on being too cramped, too protected. If you asked me, even if we were given all the freedom in the world, Dante would still fuck up every chance he got. That’s just the way he was—the wild horse.

  “Well, look at you.” Dante came sauntering down the hallway just as I stepped out of my room.

  I smiled and watched as he pulled on his black suit jacket. “Speak for yourself. You look dashing, Mr. Valenti.”

  He glanced down at the black sleeveless mini dress I’m wearing. “Antonio is going to have a heart attack.”

  “And why would I have a heart attack?” Antonio walked up behind Dante.

  “Because Karina decided to wear half a dress.” Dante crossed his arms in front of his chest, smirking.

  I glowered at him. “It’s not half a dress. It’s called a cocktail dress.”

  “It’s called a cocktail dress because you look like tail for a lot of cocks when you’re wearing it.” Dante stepped in next to me and placed his arm around my shoulder.

  “Ha, ha,” I scoffed. “That’s not even remotely funny.”

  “Dante is right, Karina,” Antonio started. “I don’t want trouble tonight.”

  “And you won’t get trouble just because I’m wearing a stupid dress.”

  Antonio lifted a dark brow. “If it’s a stupid dress you won’t mind changing into another one then.”

  I glanced from Antonio to Dante. They could practically have been twins with their dark hair and dark eyes. You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to not realize they were brothers.

  Antonio was slightly taller than Dante, plus he carried himself with much more grace and poise than Dante did. He had that same air of confidence around him just like our dad, and whenever he walked into a room there was a kind of authority that followed close behind. From the outside looking in, it would be easy to spot who the leader was. Antonio was always impeccably well-groomed, with never a hair out of place, and always cleanly shaven. Basically he was every Italian designer’s wet dream.

  Now Dante? Dante was what the world would call the bad boy. He was slightly bigger in muscle, and he wore his hair slightly longer, the tips touching his collar. He was also much more relaxed than Antonio. Like, now for example. Antonio was wearing a black tie to compliment the perfectly pressed suit he was wearing, while Dante had the first three buttons of his white dress shirt undone. He was much more rough around the edges—like Detective Stone.

  Dammit. I have no idea why I just thought of him. As quickly as that thought popped into my mind, I pushed it aside and glanced at Dante.

  “You just had to stir shit about the dress, didn’t you?”

  “I’m just looking out for my little sister.”

  Dante urged me to turn around with him, his arm still on my shoulders. “I’m only kidding, little sister, you look gorgeous. Now let’s go.”

  “Thank you, Dante.” I smiled and placed my arm around his waist.

  Dante glanced at Antonio. “And if we’re forced to kick some poor bastard’s ass for ogling hers, then we can tell Dad it was totally her fault.”

  “Oh my God.” I nudged him in the side with my elbow. “You are such an ass.”

  Both of them burst out laughing as we walked down the hallway, and I knew I was about to feel like a damn sardine between the two of them for the entire night.

  We were just about to head out the front door when my father walked into the foyer, his dark gaze settling on me.

  “Karina, may I have a word?” Like I have a choice. Lorenzo Valenti might let it sound like he was asking, but everyone who knew him knew he never asked.

  Dante removed his arm from my shoulder and nudged me forward. “We’ll wait for you in the car.”

  Dammit.

  While Dante and Antonio walked out the front door I tried my best to glare holes in their foreheads, telepathically conveying the message that I’m extremely pissed off and I shall have my revenge.

  Dante winked at me just as he closed the door behind him. I’m pretty sure I’ve never had such an overwhelming urge to beat the crap out of him as I do right now.

  Like a two year old, I stuck my tongue out at him, and then heard my father clear his throat behind me.

  It’s not like I don’t want to speak to my father, it’s just that I already knew what this was about. I’ve been home for two days and I have made it my life’s mission to avoid being alone with him since I knew this conversation was on his to-do list for some time now.

  I turned around and tried to muster up the sweetest smile humanly possible. “Everything okay, Dad?”

  He took off his suit jacket and placed it by his briefcase before taking off his tie and loosening the top two buttons of his shirt. I kept on staring at the tattoo on the top of his hand, the symbol that represented our family—the wolf. The symbol consisted of lines weaved together to form the shape of a wolf’s face, almost like a tribal sign. Both my brothers, and all my uncles and nephews who decided to devote their lives to the family business had the same symbol tattooed on the top of their hands. My mom, like all the other women in our family, had it on the inside of her wrist. Everyone that has gone through the initiation ceremony received that symbol and wore it as a sign of their loyalty and commitment to the Valenti legacy.

  I’m the only Valenti that hadn’t been inked with the family symbol yet—which brought us to the topic of the conversation I’m on the verge of having with my father right now.

  “Karina, have you been avoiding me?” He started to loosen the cuffs from his shirt.

  “Not at all.” Yes. “Why do you think that?” I shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other.

  “Well, you haven’t spent five minutes alone with me since you arrived.”

  “Sorry, Dad.” I walked up to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “It’s not intentional. I know how busy you are and I don’t want to distract you.”

  He placed a palm on my cheek and stared down at me lovingly. “My sweet bambina, I am never too busy for my princess.” He took my hand and turned my wrist up while he stared down at the skin where our family symbol was supposed to be. “Please tell me you considered my proposal?”

  Right there. That right there was the reason I’ve been avoiding him ever since I got here. His proposal.

  “Dad, please.” I stepped back, and it suddenly felt like the walls were starting to inch closer, the air slowly getting sucked out of the room.

  “Bambina. I’m serious. I want you here, with us.”

  “I know Dad.” I had this overwhelming urge to roll my eyes, but I don’t. Instead I pull my hand through my hair and look everywhere except at him.

  He stepped forward, the determination in his eyes almost knocking me off my feet. “You do not have to become this big-shot lawyer, Bambina. You don’t have to be so far away. This empire I’ve built, this is for you, for your brothers, and for our family to stay together—to stay strong and united.”

  “What am I supposed to do around here, Dad? Am I supposed to just sit around and look pretty until some man that carries your approval decides to make me his trophy wife?”

  “Bambina—”

  “No, Dad. I want a life of my own, to be me, and to not live by all these rules—your rules.”

  His thick, dark eyebrows slanted down as he frowned at me. “All these rules are there to protect us, Karina. They aren’t just made up for my amusement.”

&
nbsp; “That’s the thing. Why do I need protection? Because you run some questionable businesses? Because you choose to live this way?”

  “Because this is our heritage. It is our responsibility to make sure the Valenti legacy remains as strong as it has been for the last fifty years.” He raised his voice with every word he spoke, and his eyes darkened making me wish I was able to walk out the front door just five minutes earlier. Then all of this could have been avoided.

  I took a deep breath, and softly said, “This is exactly why I never want to come home.”

  He opened his mouth, but I was out the door before he could even get a chance to say anything else. Enough had been said already. It was clear that he hated the decisions I’ve made so far in my life, and he hated the fact that I don’t want to do as I’m told like every other damn Italian woman stuck in the same situation as me. I didn’t ask to be a part of all this. I didn’t ask to be a Valenti. And I sure as hell didn’t ask to be bound by all their goddamn rules. Their rules were exactly that. Theirs. Not mine.

  I stomped toward the Audi parked in the driveway, headlights shining directly at me, the person behind the wheel honking the horn. Immediately I knew that could only be one asshole—Dante.

  “Hurry up, would you, Princess? The cigars and booze are waiting.”

  I got into the backseat. “I’m pretty sure there’s a rule somewhere that says we’re not allowed to hang out in clubs.”

  “Luckily I have Daddy’s free pass tonight.”

  “Ah, aren’t you just Daddy’s little boy.”

  Dante glared at me over his shoulder, and I smiled wickedly at him.

  By the way Antonio peered at me from the front passenger side seat, I could see he was suspicious about my behavior. But fuck him. Fuck all of them. And fuck their rules. I am so sick and tired of always hearing that I can’t do this, and I can’t do that, and this wasn’t the way we did things in our family. What family? A family where we lived and died by our rules, but disregarded the rules of others by breaking the law?

  Hypocrites, that’s what they all were—a bunch of fucking rule-abiding hypocrites who have never earned a well-deserved dime in their lives.

  The rest of the drive to the club was eerily quiet. My mood was starting to rub off on everyone within a close proximity from me. I’m even willing to bet that my brothers all knew exactly what I was so pissed about. It wasn’t that difficult to figure out since everyone knew Dad had issues with me studying and trying to live my own life instead of just being another one of his puppets on a string.

  Within half an hour Dante parked the car outside the club, but just as I was about to get out Antonio turned around in his seat to face me.

  “I don’t want trouble tonight, Karina.”

  “Oh my God, are you serious?” This is un-fucking-believable.

  “I’m dead serious. You stay close. I don’t want you out of my sight.”

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest and pouted. Yes…I pout. “Fine, bodyguard. Anything else? Would you like me to duct tape my hip to yours? Or maybe I could put a big flashing neon sign on my forehead that reads ‘I have no life!’”

  Antonio rolled his eyes. “Grow up, Karina. And stop being so dramatic.”

  “Grow up, Karina. And stop being so dramatic,” I mocked in my best Antonio—I’m the boss—voice.

  Antonio got out of the car, and Dante turned around in his seat. I noticed him narrowing his eyes at me.

  “What?”

  “Will you be okay, Karina? You know…if he shows up?”

  I knew exactly who he was referring to—the mistake I wish I had the power to forget. The demon I wish I had the power to slay. The motherfucking asshole that played me for the naïve young girl I was four years ago.

  When my eyes met Dante’s I could see the concern in his gaze. Being the youngest of three children, and growing up with two older brothers was never easy. Antonio was six years older than me and my father had basically drilled the responsibility of looking out for his little sister into him since the day I was born. Living with that kind of responsibility hanging over him had somehow influenced our brother/sister relationship. Antonio had always seen me as the little sister he needed to take care of, never as the grown woman I am today.

  Dante, on the other hand, who was only two years older than me, was more like a friend to me than a bodyguard. We were similar in so many ways, including our need to live our own lives. We just went about it in different ways. Dante by rebelling every now and then, and me running away to university just to get away from home.

  But one thing was for certain, if it weren’t for Dante supporting me when I needed him the most, I don’t know how I would have coped with the heartbreak and humiliation I had to endure years ago. At first I didn’t know whether it was a good idea to tell him or not. But that decision was made for me when Dante found me in my car, still parked in the garage, crying my eyes out. The words just came out. I couldn’t stop myself from pouring my heart out to him that day. And thank God I did. He was my rock when I needed him the most.

  I didn’t even have to explain everything in detail. He supported me from the get go, and vowed to never let anyone else know my secret.

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t show up.” I tugged nervously at the hem of my dress.

  Dante glanced out the passenger side window. “Yeah, let’s hope.” He looked back at me. “Let’s just go and get a drink so you can calm the fuck down. Red isn’t your color.”

  “Red?”

  “Your neck and cheeks.”

  Fuck. I always got flushed when I was angry and worked up. In fact, I got flushed when I’m shy, embarrassed, or experience just about any type of emotion. I’m a flusher.

  Dante got out of the car and opened my door waiting for me to get out. Naturally I would choose that moment to fail miserably at getting out of the car in a mini dress with my dignity intact.

  “Well fuck,” I muttered.

  There was a smug grin on Dante’s face that practically begged me to punch him. That’s one good thing that came out of me growing up with two boys—I knew how to pack a mean punch.

  “I told you that dress was too—”

  “Shut up.”

  Our way into the club went down exactly as I suspected—with me sardined between two brick walls. Antonio walked upfront—as always—while Dante was on my left, slightly behind me. I rolled my eyes the entire way. Probably not the most attractive thing to do, but my current circumstance demanded such unattractive, childish behavior.

  I was seriously starting to think I’d be having much more fun if I were home and stuck at the dinner table with Mom and Dad.

  Chapter 7

  LORIK

  It was nine forty-five and I was sitting at the bar in Vertigo staring at the whiskey in my glass. There’s no doubt in my mind that they would show up tonight. It was Dante Valenti’s birthday today, and everyone knew that Dante was notorious for his partying, being the wild one of the Valenti brothers. I also happen to know that this was one of his favorite spots. Vertigo was known for its upper class clientele.

  It’s a two story club with a bar on the lower level where luxury leather couches surrounded the black and white checkered dance floor. The top floor was more like a gallery that overlooked the rest of the club. That’s where all the big VIP fuckers sat pretending that they were watching over their own little kingdom of drunken souls. There they got waited on by waitresses dressed in nothing but shiny gold miniskirts and matching bikini tops. I’m also pretty sure that one of the qualifying criteria for the waitressing job was that you had to have a bra size of at least a double D.

  The music was pumping and the club was slowly starting to fill up as the night came alive. By now the waiting line outside was probably stretched around the block. Lucky for me the bouncer working at the door owed me a favor—which I decided to collect tonight, giving me quick and easy entrance.

  I was glancing around the club when I heard a familiar voice next to
me. I turn around in my seat, and holy shit—what do you know.

  “Gio?”

  When Gio saw me, he rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck me.”

  “Sorry dude. That’s not how I roll.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I snorted. “Why isn’t your ass in jail?”

  Gio grabbed his beer from the bartender before turning to face me. He smiled that damn fugly gold filled smile. “I have ways, my man.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m sure you do.”

  “Have a good evening, Detective.” He tapped his beer against my glass and sauntered off into the crowd.

  How the fuck that guy managed to get his ass out of jail since I arrested him this morning, I have no clue. But I’m willing to bet my ass that it had something to do with the Valentis—or if Anderson was correct, the Mancusos.

  Suddenly there was a commotion coming from the other side of the club, and when I turned around in my seat I noticed that the entire fucking crowd seemed to come to a standstill. Ladies and gentlemen, the Valentis have arrived.

  First to enter was the brothers. I knew both their fucking faces. I’ve studied them, followed them, watched them—I’ve fucking stalked them over the last few months. I could recognize these guys with my fucking eyes closed—if that were even possible.

  Antonio walked upfront while buttoning his suit jacket. With squared shoulders and his chin lifted up high, he looked like the fucking epitome of success and power. The man screamed control and supremacy. It didn’t take an idiot to figure out he was the Underboss—the son to take over his father’s empire one day.

  Dante, the party animal, was walking on the left, pulling his hands through his hair and winking at all the ladies. Can someone say man-whore?

  But it was the girl next to Dante that fully caught my attention—the girl with the killer legs and curvy hips that has the potential to turn me into a raging, horny fucking animal.

  Karina Valenti.

  I lightly shake my head when I noticed how her two brothers tried to box her between them. It’s like they were trying to shield her from the rest of the crowd. If only they knew that there was no way they could hide such a beauty from everyone forever. Karina had a way about her, like she demanded every man’s attention without even knowing it.