Ruthless Empire: A Dark Mafia Collection

by Seth Eden

  Too bad he wouldn’t let me help him out with that.

  “What are you doing here, Molly?” he asked me, as if doing his best to repress a snarl. At the same time he walloped the bag so hard I wondered if he might bust it loose from the ceiling.

  I took note of every defined muscle, every scar, and that unforgettable tattoo. Yep, they were just as I remembered. I could use a refresher course, though I knew I’d be unlikely to ever get one.

  “I heard a noise.”

  Doing some sort of left hook, right hook combination I’d only ever seen performed on a movie screen, he spoke, his words coming out as more of a jibe than anything else, “Don’t worry, I killed all the bogeymen. It’s safe for you to go back to bed.”

  Ah, sarcasm. Well, that was my jam. “It’s too soft,” I told him.

  That got his attention. He quit beating the crap out of the bag for long enough to gawk at me in confusion. “What?”

  “My bed. I tried the other one, but it’s too hard.” I treaded up to him, step by step, taking my time as if approaching a wild animal. He kind of looked like one, to be fair. “What I need is one that’s just right.”

  He blinked, then cast me a probing look as he put two and two together. “Goldilocks? Really?”

  Seeing him like this reminded me of our night together. It hadn’t been that long ago, but it felt like an eternity. I didn’t know what had caused this distance between us. I didn’t know why he’d seemed to change his mind about me for no reason, but I’d decided I wanted to have a say in the matter.

  And I was going to have that say right now.

  If nothing else, I felt I deserved an explanation.

  I came to a halt about a foot away from him, within reach but not physically touching. In my haste to get downstairs earlier, I’d thrown on nothing but my robe. I opened the sash now, letting the robe fall off my shoulders to drop in a pool of white terry cloth, watching Luca’s reaction.

  And I definitely got one.

  He ogled my naked form, his face so filled with desire I was astonished I didn’t burst into sky-high flames. Okay, so he still wanted me. That much was more than apparent. Why had he pushed me away then?

  “Molly…” His breathing accelerated and his voice sounded strained, even though he’d quit working out.

  I reached forward, pressing a finger to the indentation between his pectoral muscles. He froze and I watched as the pulse at his neck visibly quickened. “I don’t know if it was something I did or something I didn’t do, but I’d appreciate it if you’d let me in on it.”

  “In on it?” he repeated, seemingly stunned, or possibly struck dumb. It made me feel feminine and empowered, like some mythical goddess.

  Feeling a little bad for rendering him almost speechless, I relented. “I want to know why you’re avoiding me, Luca.”

  As if my mention of his name had snapped him out of a trance or something, his expression cleared and he took a step backwards. “Because I can’t be with you.”

  “Why not?”

  He squeezed his eyes closed. “Just trust me, I can’t.”

  “Why not?” I repeated, this time in a whisper. But this had the opposite effect of what I intended.

  “Dammit, Molly, get out of here!” he bellowed out, his tone furious, and it might’ve been enough to scare me off had it not been for one thing. His eyes. Those dark eyes of his didn’t look angry, they looked miserable. Tormented, even.

  It caused me to stand my ground. “Why do you keep doing this? We had this wonderful night together—the best night I’ve ever had with anybody—but then it was like it never happened. And now, we barely talk to one another. I don’t get to see Anna anymore.” He tore his gaze away again, and I called him on it. “You won’t even meet my eye.”

  “You don’t understand what’s going on here.” He’d lowered his voice as if afraid to wake everyone up, making it sound more like a hiss. Like he was in pain.

  “Then make me understand.” He shook his head at me, and I lost it. I’d had enough. “Goddammit, Luca Varasso, you’re the biggest mother fucking mafia crime boss in all of Philadelphia and the least you can do is look at me!” I raised my hand in a moment of utter insanity, ready to slap him across the face as hard as I could.

  But then he caught me by the wrist, his expression going so dark that this time I really did feel afraid. In fact, I felt terrified. I’d pushed him too far and now I would pay the price. Moments from my recent dream and my long-ago childhood reared their ugly heads, and I flinched, ducking down to avoid the anticipated blow.

  Yet that blow never came. Instead, his mouth covered mine with so much fervor that it stole my breath away. His arms wrapped around me like a vice, crushing me to him, and I whimpered with the dual sensations of relief and anticipation. Blood pounded in my ears, but all I could feel was his hard muscles against the softness of my curves.

  No longer frightened, I fell with him onto the mats covering the hardwood floor, our kisses and touches so impassioned that I lost track of what I’d intended to do and the questions I’d planned to ask. All that mattered was that the distance he’d placed between us had vanished.

  Nothing stood between us. Not anymore.

  As he held my face in his hands and gazed into my eyes, I had no doubt that everything would now be okay. He’s chosen to be with me after all. And he was. In every way possible.

  I nearly cried at the power of it.

  Then he rolled my body beneath his, and I reveled in the euphoria of him taking me exactly where I needed to go.

  18

  Luca

  Not once had I wrecked my own life as completely as I had in this moment. Before, events had transpired that I’d had no control over. I hadn’t been able to keep my mother out of that car accident. I hadn’t gotten upstairs in enough time to stop Donovan Bianchi from gunning down my father in his own home.

  I hadn’t been able to restart Alana’s heart.

  Despite how I’d been raised, despite all the weapons training and physical conditioning I’d received, I’d been rendered powerless in each one of those situations. Helpless to halt the momentum of God or the universe or whatever malevolent entity had done this from delivering its vengeance to me and my family.

  I’d come here to our gym trying to expend some energy. Tomorrow, I would meet with the patriarch of the Bianchi family. It was already arranged. But I’d felt nervous as to the outcome, so I’d tried to wear myself out. A war for territory would be costly for everyone involved.

  I needed to be clear-headed and at the top of my game, but I’d felt too stressed to sleep.

  Molly had found me here. I’d observed her from where I stood, feeling on edge and wary. But that wariness hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t done a damn thing to stop me from throwing caution to the wind and making this huge mistake.

  I’d known what I had to do—stay away from her—but I hadn’t managed to do it. What happened hadn’t been her fault. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault but my own.

  So now, I laid flat on the floor of our gym, Molly on top me, gorgeously bare, her skin rosy and her face relaxed and replete. I’d felt relaxed and replete too for about thirty seconds. I’d been more than willing to share this with her, to seek and find pleasure with her.

  But then what I’d done poured over me like a bucket of ice water.

  Granted, she’d been the one to come to me, but I should’ve held her off. She’d hunted me down like a lioness stalking her prey, but I could’ve turned away. I could’ve left her standing there.

  But I hadn’t.

  Instead, I’d given in to her.

  Of course, she’d been a force to reckon with since the moment I met her, but I succumbed to her all too readily. Resigned myself to her seduction. I’d wrapped myself up in her again and lost control.

  I’d offered her the reins, but she didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t know where this road led.

  Our first night of lovemaking had been intense, and this h
ad been even more so. Rejecting her advances wasn’t exactly my forte, especially not when I felt so strongly towards her.

  I feared what would happen now. What consequence my actions would bring.

  I did see a single ray of hope, however, as miniscule as it might be. If she didn’t feel that same level of intensity toward me, everything might still be okay. If my feelings were one-sided, and she’d only sought me out to receive some meaningless physical release, she could stay safe.

  If.

  Now, I just needed to find out.

  She’d rested her head against my shoulder, and I tipped her chin up so I could stare down at those lovely features of hers. Those whiskey eyes, kissable lips, and curtain of waist-length chestnut hair.

  Christ, why did she have to be so devastatingly beautiful?

  She rubbed her palm over my stubble, smiling at me. It made me ache. “Why did you come here tonight, Molly?” I asked her.

  “Because I…” she dropped her hand, pausing as if considering her answer. Then, she did something she’d never done before. She met my gaze and allowed her vulnerability to show. As if she was going for broke. As if she was ready to put everything on the line. “I needed you.”

  My stomach stumbled out of its normal location and sank to my knees. “Needed me for this?” I gestured at the way we were tangled together.

  “Yes.” Oh, thank Christ. I could give her that as much as she wanted it. As long as that’s all she wanted. But then she added, “I’ve missed you.”

  “You’ve seen me every day.”

  “But something’s been… I don’t know. Off. Like, cold or something. We used to be friends, but you’ve been pushing me away. And I… I need you.” She placed her hand on my heart.

  I moved my gaze across the room so I wouldn’t have to look at her. I couldn’t bear to hurt her, but based on what she’d just said, I’d probably have to. “What if I told you pushing away from you was necessary?”

  I thought she’d react negatively to that, but she didn’t. Instead, she lifted her hands to my cheeks and twisted my face toward hers again. She traced my lips with the tip of her finger. It made delighted little chills race through me, making me yearn to take her again.

  “Then I would have to respectfully disagree. I love you, Luca.”

  My stomach then plummeted past my knees and straight into the floor. “No, Molly, you can’t.”

  “I can,” she said, not understanding. “I do.”

  “No.” I sat up, dislodging her. “I don’t want you to.”

  She crinkled her brows, looking puzzled. “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t return those feelings.” Can’t being the operative word, because I already did return them. But I couldn’t explain that. Even if I did, it wouldn’t change anything. We still couldn’t be together.

  Not if it meant some horrible tragedy would befall her somewhere down the line.

  I’d been with Alana for three years before it happened to her, leaving Anna to grow up without her. My mom and dad had been married for nearly two decades before his wife and the mother of three of his sons had been torn away from him.

  I didn’t think I could do it, have a relationship where I spent every second wondering when the axe would descend like a guillotine, cutting her off from me and destroying our life together.

  I couldn’t do that to Molly. I wouldn’t.

  I hazarded a glance at her. She’d gone stationary, eerily still. I waited for her to fume, to spew animosity in my direction, to fly at me like she had earlier.

  And this time, I’d let her. I’d let her beat me to a pulp if it made her feel better.

  I already felt like shit anyway.

  I watched as she shoved herself to her feet. I watched as she turned in the opposite direction and collected her robe, throwing it on and tying the sash. And I watched as she calmly strode away from me and through the equipment of the gym, not once looking back.

  19

  Roman

  I sat in my van mindlessly fast forwarding through the endless hidden camera feed I’d captured. And there it was. Precisely what I’d been looking for. Silently, I pumped my fist in the air, allowing myself a triumphant moment of celebration.

  Finally, this was it.

  Six years ago, I learned the truth of who I was, who my father had been. So I’d worked and slaved to infiltrate the impenetrable Varasso mansion.

  Turned out, it wasn’t so impenetrable after all.

  The Varassos, while a well-established and influential mob family, had their weaknesses like everyone else. For them, their greatest weakness came in the form of a story, passed along generation after generation. It was a fiction they fully believed in.

  The Varasso Curse.

  Such a ridiculous idea, that all the men in the bloodline were fated for heartbreak. Yet when anything bad happened to them, everything from natural disasters to the premature death of a loved one, that’s what they chalked it up to. The men of the family had convinced themselves that these random accidents and coincidences were somehow linked to their destinies.

  What a load of crap.

  Life sucked. For everyone. Shit happened. It’s just the way it was. It didn’t make sense to blame some nonexistent and misguided notion of mysticism for occurrences that were totally arbitrary in nature. But the Varassos did, luckily for me. And also luckily for me, this made them easy to manipulate.

  I’d already treated the Varassos and the Bianchis like they were puppets on strings, and it’d worked. Forge a few records and plant a little fake evidence, and wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, we have ourselves a conspiracy.

  Granted, I was one of the best in the business. I’d been making forgeries ever since I could walk and talk. Being raised by a single mother addicted to meth who hooked for a living meant I’d had to start making my way in the world early. It’d been a way of life.

  Next had come what I like to call my informal marksman training. In other words, I’d practiced with a stolen BB gun on some tin cans in a back alley. I’d been a little short of my seventh birthday at the time.

  The funny thing is how good I’d been. The kids with me had jeered and said it was beginner’s luck. But I continued to have this ability to laser focus on my aim. I’d been accurate as hell. And I transferred that early knowledge to more weaponry as I grew to adulthood.

  If I’d gone the military route, I’d probably be an expert level sniper right now, but being told what to do by authority figures had never exactly appealed to me. So as a teen, I did whatever might be necessary to keep food in my belly, including the occasional hit.

  I looked at like this: It was nothing personal. It was a method of survival, that’s all. It was me, or it was them. And I knew who I’d choose to come out on top every time.

  Then, I’d found out that the sperm donor who’d shared my biology was rich beyond the dreams of avarice. That his organization had access to billions and that he lived the high life. My father. Sure, he might be a criminal, but I didn’t know anyone who wasn’t.

  Besides, he was a master of that criminal underworld. The king of it, in fact. And I wanted to join him. I wanted to be given the same respect he was. I wanted to be accepted as his son, so I’d one day have the chance to become a king, too.

  What was that old saying? It’s better to reign in hell rather than serve in heaven.

  I yearned to have my chance to reign.

  But then all my plans hit a snag. I worked for five long years earning the old man’s trust, only to have it blow up in my face. I’d gone to him, provided him with the proof of who I was, and he’d regarded me with undisguised disgust. Like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter.

  Just because my conception came about as a result of him paying my mother to have sex with him.

  He’d acted scandalized. As if he hadn’t already been known for having an affair on the wife he’d supposedly adored. As if he didn’t have one bastard son sitting at his table already. As if he was innocent and a saint am
ong men.

  Fucking hypocrite.

  But the hypocrite couldn’t get away with ignoring the truth, ignoring me. I’d made him pay. I’d evened the scales.

  Since he’d wronged me, I decided to wrong him. I created this narrative about him being a thief and sold it to the Bianchis. And they’d taken the bait. Hook, line, and sinker. Their accountant had been more than happy to have his bread buttered on both sides. Money making the world go around was a credo I’d lived by for a long time.

  The Bianchis had attacked. Better, they’d had the balls to do it on the Varasso’s own property. I’d watched the whole debacle on the hidden cameras I had placed in a few key locations throughout their home. It’d been a thing of beauty to watch Donovan Bianchi gun down Angelo Varasso.

  Now, the father who’d denied me was dead.

  Still, having him taken out hadn’t felt as fulfilling as I’d thought it would. I felt like I needed to do more. I’d thought having Angelo removed would destabilize the Varasso hold over Philadelphia, but if anything, the younger generation seemed to flourish even more once he was gone.

  The new leader and eldest son had taken the unconventional route of hiring a woman to run their drug importation business, and it’d paid off like a rigged slot machine. They were pulling in money hand over fist. More than they ever had before.

  It pissed me off.

  I’d believed the head of the snake had been Angelo. But as it turned out, it was actually Luca. My brother. As the heir apparent, he had been given everything I hadn’t. He’d been groomed and supported for the role of king his whole life. He’d been respected. Built up instead of torn down. Most irritating of all, he’d had my father’s love.

  While I hadn’t been offered an ounce of it.

  After becoming a runner for their family, I’d taken the opportunity to meet all my brothers. Marco with his bodybuilder physique and brusque personality. Alessandro with his glasses and geeky nature. Gabriel, the illegitimate son Angelo had legitimized. Unlike me. All of them had been spoiled like the brats I’d expected them to be.