by Rose Harper
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2018 by Rose Harper, All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations within critical reviews and otherwise as permitted by copyright law.
NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental. All characters in this story are 18 or older.
Copyright © 2018, Rose Harper Publishing. All rights reserved. www.authorroseharper.wixsite.com/books/
Edited by Mitzi Pummer Carroll
Mitzi Carroll: Editor
Proofread by Marisa Nichols
Marisa Nichols: Proofreader
Cover Art by Mae’s Wicked Grafix
Mae’s Wicked Grafix
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COPYRIGHT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SYNOPSIS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
PLAYLIST
THANK YOU
COMING SOON
CAN’T WAIT FOR ROSE HARPER’S NEXT BOOK
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SYNOPSIS
I'm dangerous. Calculated. Bloodthirsty.
The perfect motherfucking trifecta of crazy.
The name's Mateo Calvetti, and Brooklyn belongs to me.
My reach knows no bounds, and I always get what I want.
Including the little gem currently twisting my insides.
She's been promised to me since birth.
Nothing anyone says will change that.
She will be mine, whether she wants it or not.
I'm going to own her. Consume her. Fuck, I may even keep her.
Yet, something comes to light I never expected in my wildest dreams.
Blood, secrets, and lies all fall around my feet.
Carina Ricci isn’t what she claims to be.
It appears she’s just as fucked up as me.
Come on, baby, let’s make them scream.
Let’s show them what happens when you anger a King and his Queen.
Blood and Secrets:1
The Calvetti Crime Family
1
CARINA
M y eyes track his every movement.
No matter what I do, I can feel the heat of his proximity like he’s standing right next to me, breathing down my neck. I can feel the burn of his fingers as if they’re sliding across my body, instead of his bottom lip. His presence lights a fire within me, filling me with intrigue to know more. To find out everything I can about him.
Techno illuminations swirl through the air, their stunning insignias gleaming off the den floor, red drapes, and various decorations strewn over every available surface my parents could place them. Music pumps through the surround sound with enough bass it vibrates my chest as it plays awful, outdated carols filled with whimsical tales of Christmas.
It’s meant to be enchanting, dreamlike. But, whoever thought playing this was going to be the life of the party is clearly tone-deaf and planning for a snooze fest instead. There’s absolutely no rhythm or beat to it, and everyone is loitering around, talking amongst themselves, as if they’re in a museum rather than a party. It’s positively dreadful.
Casting my eyes back in their direction, my heart flutters as I seek him out once more. Just the sight of him is like a burst of heroin in my veins. I want to relish the sting of the needle as it pierces my flesh, feeling the toxic liquid unhurriedly pump into my veins as I crest up the hill to euphoria over and over again. Even with distractions all around me, I can’t seem to keep my eyes off him. He’s an enigma, begging to be solved.
This man must be important; otherwise, my father wouldn’t give him the time of day. My father is soaking up the few words he uses to acknowledge him like he can’t get enough. I find it weird my father exudes the patience of a saint when normally, he pitches a man-sized tantrum filled with revenge and death if he doesn’t get his way.
In retrospect, my father would remind you of a big man child, which is the only way I can describe it. He’s hard, menacing, and deadly on the outside. Yet soft, whiny, and a complete and total toddler on the inside. He always gets his way, and if he doesn’t, then I’m the one left cleaning up the mess. I’m the one spending minutes, hours, days, months awake; exhausted, starving, and alone until it’s all straightened out.
Clearly, this man doesn’t give two shits about what my father can do—or better yet, what he can cause with the snap of his fingers. Because for the last fifteen minutes, he’s been standing in the same spot, sipping quietly from his tumbler as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s like he’s doing the people around him a favor by being here, and they should bow down to his feet. I can’t stand someone like that. People who believe they’re better than everyone else when really, they can stand to fall down a few pegs from the pedestal they built for themselves.
Movement from my left causes me to cower in the darkness more, hoping I haven’t been spotted. My father will shit if I’m made. I’m not supposed to be down here, enjoying the sights and sounds of Christmas. Instead, I’m supposed to be in the basement, never to be seen by anyone unless he deems it necessary. They say it’s for my protection; for protection of what I am. I don’t understand it, probably never will. But still, even through it all, keeping me their dirty little secret still smarts more than anything he’s ever done to me.
“Darling, have you met Mateo Calvetti?” I hear my father ask, gesturing toward the man who holds my attention.
Mateo Calvetti? His name sounds as mysterious and foreign as he looks. It suits him perfectly and piques my interest all the more. His regal Italian features scream money and power as he stands aloof in a three-piece fitted suit. His chiseled frame fills it flawlessly, from his broad, masculine shoulders, all the way to his trim, tapered waist. His jet-black hair is short on the sides and comes to rest in a faux hawk at the top, while a bit of manly stubble graces his model perfect jawline. He’s the epitome of perfection. And for the first time ever, my body takes notice as it aches in places it’s never ached before.
Peeking through the shadows, I see my mother smiling brightly at him. Seeing her so happy to meet someone causes a bout of anger to surface inside of me. She’s never been this excited to see me as she is this stranger, and it pisses me off to no end that she’s showing him the attention she’s never bothered to show me. Who is this man? A man I’ve never met before but can evoke such emotion from the ice queen herself?
Taking his outstretched hand, she gives it a firm shake. “I don’t believe we have. I had the pleasure of meeting your father, but not you. Hello.”
“Ciao,” he replies, his deep, rich voice causing a shiver to race from my head to the very bottoms of my feet. His voice is so mesmerizing.
“What brings you out on Christmas Eve, Mateo?”
Mateo’s response causes my heart to flutter and my breath to catch. The low, cavernous baritone of his voice can only be described as fierce, determined, calculated—yet, soft, smooth, and delicious.
The ache at t
he apex of my thighs flames higher, as my nipples pebble with obvious desire. I’ve never seen anyone quite like this man, and my deprived body is taking notice with extreme clarity.
This reaction—I’ve never felt it toward anything in my life. Not my heart picking up its pace or my body aching for a single touch. It’s different. But a kind of different I can quickly become accustomed to. It’s heady, delicious, and I would like nothing more than to explore everything it has to offer.
“Do you have any news?” he asks my mother, slowly sipping from his drink.
Her cackle causes me to cringe. It’s just as fake as she is, and that’s saying something. About ninety-nine percent of her body is plastic, all thanks to the money I bring into this family. Fucking self-righteous bitch. “Straight shooter, huh?”
“Is there any other way?” he retorts, smirking, and I watch as my mother physically swoons in front of him. Hell, even though I don’t like her, I can’t blame her there. I’m swooning, too. Just the sight of his lips pulling into a thin line, highlighting the peppering of fine lines next to his eyes, has me panting for more.
In hurried succession, his eyes flick over her head, ensnaring me in his mouthwateringly dark gaze, before snapping back to her, a soft smile spreading. The action is so imperceptible that if you weren’t looking right at him, you wouldn’t even notice. His grin completely morphs his features, making him seem lighter, more handsome if that is possible. And his eyes. They’re bottomless, captivating. They pull me in like a snake lures its prey.
Forcing myself backward, I curse silently as the shelving digs into my spine. I’ve been trying my hardest to stay unnoticed; yet, within moments of his attention turned this way, he sought me out. How? I’m the stealthiest person I know; have to be in a godforsaken place such as this.
Goddammit, I hope he doesn’t say something. If he opens his mouth and tells them I’m here, it will all be over. My parents will send me to the hole for disobeying them, torturing me until they think I’ve had enough for my disobedience. Even if it’s been years since I’ve been there, still to this day, I clearly know never to disobey them because the repercussions he can extract from me are severe. Every action has a reaction, which is what my father always tells me, and if Mateo outs me, I’m done for.
Thankfully, no one takes notice of where his attention had just been. Instead, she rolls her shoulders back and juts her chest out, wrapping her wavy hair around her finger. Inwardly groaning, I snap my eyes shut to save myself from the spectacle that is my mother. It never fucking fails with her. It doesn’t matter if my father is near her or not. She will blatantly flirt with anyone that holds more power than him, hoping for a better life than he can give her.
Only, she’s not the one that gets punished for her actions, sent to do things no other person should have to do. I am. I’m the one who goes without dinner, bathing, or personal contact for weeks on end unless I do what he asks of me. I’m the one who gets the brunt of his anger, even though I’m not the one that caused it. It’s never her. It’s always me. And as the devil as my witness, one day I’ll make her pay for it.
“It’s coming along wonderfully,” she coos, grossing me out even more. “You’d be happy to know your little property is at the end of training. We’re learning …” She leans forward, whispering only so those close around her can hear. I chance getting caught by leaning forward as well. Only, no amount of closeness will tell me what I want to know most: what the hell she’s whispering to him about.
“Oh, really?” he asks, his smile blooms across as his eyes flick up to meet mine, holding a mischievous gleam of excitement. Why is he looking at me like I’m a piece of meat?
Does he not know the things I’m capable of?
2
MATEO
S he’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Her eyes captivate me. Her body slays me. I don’t have the first clue who she is, but every nerve ending inside me is screaming to take her—claim her as she needs to rightfully be claimed. Her body practically weeps for my attention, as I take in all her fulfilling attributes. And let me just say … goddamn. Just the sight of her creamy flesh makes me itch to mark it.
This little truffle has no idea she’s just made the devil ravenous for a taste. All her innocence screams at me to soil her, make her as devilishly sinful as me.
“Yes, really,” Jillian squeals softly.
I know the reason she’s as excited as she is. The last of training means she gets to rid herself of the “abomination” she’s been taking care of for the last twenty-three years. She and Captain Dipshit get a big fat check for all their trouble, and I get a little missus that’s supposed to know how to please me.
Only, I know better. She may say they’re moving along, but there’s never been one day of training taking place inside the Ricci house. Trust me. Ever since I took over the family business, I’ve had spies all over this shit. And to my complete and utter dismay, my spies found out that the Riccis have been lying to my family this entire time. Instead, they’ve been taking the money my father is so generously giving them, spending it on anything and everything they could possibly want.
Many things in life I can stand, tolerate, or push to the side. But being a thief, liar, and a manipulator is something I completely abhor. People have died at my hand for a lot less, and the Riccis are walking on very thin ice when it comes to me.
“There is much business to discuss, then,” I say, trying to hold my cool. “Shut the party down and send everyone home.”
Without waiting for a response, I cast one last look over to the shadowed corner, hardening my eyes as they meet her wild ones. Flicking them to the side, I silently bid her to do as I say and leave my presence immediately. To my surprise, she takes my hint and starts sliding from the corner. I watch as she disappears down the stars toward the basement, narrowing my eyes as confusion begins clouding my judgement.
Pushing it from my mind, I make my way through the expansive home, seeking out Daniel’s office. Thrusting open the doors, I wait until my brothers are safely inside before ridding myself of the fury settling in my gut.
“They are a bunch of goddamn liars!” I thunder. “Since the moment we stepped into this house, I know every one of you saw what I did.”
“I know I did,” Gavino, my younger brother, states. “I saw that little bird hiding in the corner. Who is she?”
I turn a murderous gaze on him. “She’s the bird I’m to marry, Gavino. The one that’s supposed to have all this monumental training on how to please a man with power, while bringing with her something that will rock the underworld as we know it.”
“Shit.”
“Shit is correct, brother. Which is why I’m thoroughly pissed.” My blood simmers in my veins the longer I stand and think about their deceit.
It’s not the fact I cannot get a woman on my own, because damn, I’m one sexy son of a bitch. It’s the fact my father pays for everything they have just because we need someone to stand by my side that knows the ins and outs of being a motherfucking queen. We can’t afford to look weak, and a woman who doesn’t know her rightful place will make us just that. I couldn’t give two shits about her, but my family will look stronger if there’s someone by my side that appears just as strong as me.
My life hasn’t been all fairytales and rainbows. It’s about blood, sex, and power. Things that little slit clearly knows nothing about. I eat women like her for breakfast and don’t need to tie myself to her if she’s going to fail me. My father insisted she would know the arrangement when the time came, but it’s clear the Riccis think they’re pulling a fast one. I’ve let this go far enough, and I’m not about to let it get any more fucked up than it already is.
“What are you going to do?” Lucio, my other brother, asks.
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose to stave off the pressure building behind my eyes. “I don’t know. This could fuck everything up.”
A few beats of silence envelope us until one of my brothers
clears their throat to speak. “Is she really important?” Vinny asks.
“Yes, Vin. She’s important enough for this to go off without a hitch,” I answer, fuming. “Father picked her specifically for a reason. I don’t want to marry this bitch, but it’s clear I have no say-so in the matter. You all know I will do what I can for the family, even if it means giving my last breath.”
“Then just take her. Train her yourself.”
“It’s not that simple, Giovanni.” Walking toward Daniel’s desk, I sit down, running my fingers through my hair. “Father just handed the business over to me without rhyme or reason. If I take the time to train her, it could fuck with everything. We have deals in place that we’ve had for years. If I take time from them, then others will see me as weak. They will try to back out of their deal, and we all know that no one backs out on a Calvetti and lives to tell the tale.”
“Then have Dom do it,” Lucio buts in.
Anger like no other slices through my body just thinking of my best friend touching even a hair on her head. He’s important to me, but this bitch has been promised to me since her birth, and I refuse to allow anyone the pleasure. It’s not the fact I want her—yes, she’s gorgeous, sinful really, which is right up my alley—but it’s the pure principle of it. I would not be a man worth anything if I allowed another to touch what’s mine. It will make me look weak, spineless. Which is something I’m not.
“You better rethink those words, brother. I don’t give a shit about that slit any more than I do the whore I keep around, but she will not be touched by anyone other than me. Our father wanted the Ricci and Calvetti name tied together for a reason. I’m only doing this because Father wants me to; because he thinks it will put the fear of God into those around me. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to be free game when it comes to her. She will act how a wife is supposed to act, or I’ll kill the bitch myself.”
