Owned by the Mafia Bad Boy (Books 1 - 4)

by Raven Dark

  “You’re a Davros through and through, aren’t you, Kane?”

  He sighed. Shrugged. Shrugged!

  I crossed my arms on the table and ignored his scowl, as if I’d slurped my soup. “So who is she? Oh, wait. I remember. You’ve had this girlfriend, an on and off relationship for years. I’ve seen you on the society pages. What’s her name…”

  “Gala Rossi.”

  “Gala.” I couldn’t help drawing the name out with mock fascination. “Isn’t she some sort of Mafia princess or something?”

  Blank stare.

  “All right, here’s an easier one. Would she know about me? What’s the idea, I’m your weekend screw?”

  Real anger flashed in his eyes. “Watch your language, girl.”

  I widened my eyes in mock offense. “Really?”

  “Stop this. Don’t make a scene.”

  He was right, I was getting loud. I scoffed, drawing back. “Wow. You’ve got the whole lord and master thing down pat. I…” I’d stood up, and when he grabbed my wrist, rising himself, I froze, deadly still.

  “Anika, knock it off. Sit down.”

  “Let. Me. Go.”

  “Sit.” But he also released me. I shook my head and stepped up to him until I was toe to toe with him, not caring that people would probably hear me.

  “Don’t. Don’t you ever call me that again. You don’t get to call me that, ever. I hate you, Kane. You ever come near me, or my father again, my father won’t have to shoot you, because I’ll do it myself.”

  “Anika.”

  I barely processed that he now sounded more tired than angry. I couldn’t resist one final blow to his ego. I grabbed the wine and tossed the whole glass at him. The cherry liquid ran down his face, soaking his perfectly white silk shirt. Then I spun for the doors and pushed through them.

  “Anika, get back here.” I heard him stalking after me but quickened my pace, ignoring the stares from the patrons and staff. His fingers brushed mine, and I tore free, knocking over a chair in his path.

  “Fuck.” Kane cursed and there was a clatter as if he bumped into the chair. Buying me time.

  Heart squeezing in my chest, I ran for the street and hailed the first cab I saw.

  4

  Fuck. I couldn’t believe she’d done that. Not only throwing the wine in my face, but saying things to me most women were too afraid of my family lineage to say. I knew at least one patron here was probably a reporter looking for a story, and an odd pride in her for her fire flared in me, knowing the world might see it tomorrow.

  I grabbed a napkin off a nearby table and wiped the wine off my face, waving away a waiter who dashed over to help me. As soon as the bill was paid, I stalked to my car, where David waited.

  My blood burned with the urge to chase after Anika and pull her into my arms. To hold my sweet, beautiful woman until she stopped inevitably trying to hit me, kiss her until she couldn’t see straight, and tell her the truth. I would have given anything to tell her my relationship with Gala was fake, and if I had my way, there wouldn’t be any damn wedding. But my muscles also tightened with a much more violent urge to throw her over my shoulder like some caveman, and chain her to my bed, covering her with ropes of my come. Marking her until her skin glowed with my essence and she knew only me.

  And then there was that twisted part that always reared up, the monster that thrived off hatred, that sought solace and drew strength from it. That part wanted to cultivate her loathing with reminders of how important my wedding was, that I would not allow her to ruin it, and by the way, she was mine, whether she wanted it or not. All while I laid claim to her, letting her screams of mingled hatred and ecstasy fill my ears.

  Everyone said dealing with a Davros came with a price, but people rarely realized, there was also a price for being one. Weakness in a man was the kiss of death, failure was a poison that lingered forever, and conquest was the robe you wore to dinner. Women were chattel, until it was convenient, and to behave any other way was dangerous, to said woman, and to me.

  The truth was, if she took my offer, Anika would only be allowed to work because it looked good for me, and only until it became a problem. The lineage I carried meant appearances were everything. Allowing her too much freedom was too risky, and the consequences of my lenience were too high.

  “Where is she, David?”

  David opened the door to the limo, face determined. “She got into a cab as soon she got out here. Headed for her father’s farm, I assume.”

  “Follow her.”

  “Already on it, sir.” He got into the driver’s seat and threw the car into traffic, tearing after a cab probably already long gone.

  “I’m guessing your offer didn’t sit right with her, sir.”

  “It didn’t, no.”

  “Gala?”

  “What else? Damn it.” I thumped my fist on the door. “I should have told her the truth.”

  David threw a look at me over the front seat. “Sir. You know you can’t do that. You did what you had to. To protect yourself, Gala…and her.”

  I sighed and ran a hand down my face. “I know. It’s just too bad that now she thinks I’m a womanizer as well as a dick.”

  David nodded. “We wear the masks we must, Mr. Davros. If you want her, you’ll have to play the part.”

  I put my head back, letting his words sink in as he sped toward the Montrose farm.

  It settled on me, now, exactly how serious a mistake it was to pull Anika into my sick, outdated, male dominated world. A woman had to be made of iron to survive in the climate set decades ago by my forefathers, to know where her power lay, and where she had to kneel. She adapted to it, or she fell apart, shattered, a shell of herself. There was a part of me that had thought Anika could navigate the landscape my father had only strengthened, that believed there was hope for us. Now, I seriously questioned if that had been wishful thinking. A selfish man’s lust ruling him.

  Too bad I couldn’t bring myself to let her go. She was in my system now, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything. Not even her.

  How, I didn’t know, but somehow I managed to get into the cab, far away from the restaurant without crying. A few miles toward my dad’s farm, my eyes finally started to sting, as if the humiliation built in my chest to the point where its weight became too much to bear.

  No. I wouldn’t let the waterworks happen. I wouldn’t let Kane have that sort of win over me. I forced the stinging in my eyes away and stared out the window without seeing the city pass, and eventually change to the sprawling farmlands that stretched outside of New York City. Soft rain plunked against the top of the cab. Perfect. The grey skies said it would be pouring soon, turning my dad’s farm into a pig’s paradise.

  I suppose it was easier to think about the rain than my predicament, that I’d become the mistress to the very last man I should have been with. Well, he wasn’t married yet. Was I still a mistress if he was only engaged? I growled and rubbed my temples.

  Over and over, I couldn’t help thinking about what my dad always said about the Davros family. That nothing they said was what you thought you heard, that they spoke in half truths, and any deal you made with them was a trap, like selling your soul. On some level, I’d believed he was exaggerating, equating a family whose patriarch had screwed him over with something far more nefarious than it was. When Kane offered his deal, I’d started to see a little of the evil in him I’d always heard about. The twisted things he wanted to do to me only confirmed what I now knew, but discovering that he’d deceived me about Gala as well peeled back the final layer of goodness I believed he had. Without my knowing, he’d taken my first time, something I cherished, and turned it into something dirty, something cheap, and meaningless. Somehow, it seemed a fitting thing for a Davros to do.

  Slowly, I let my anger burn away my heartbreak. He wasn’t worth my tears. He never had been. So why did my heart feel like it had an earth-sized hole in it?

  When the cab stopped in my dad’s drive, I shook mys
elf and stared out the window. Wow, I hadn’t even realized we’d driven that far out of the city. I leaned up and paid the driver, but froze, staring out the window.

  A black Rolls sat in the drive in front of the cab, shining and wet with rain. And looking exactly like the one I’d seen outside the hospital earlier. A chill snaked up my spine.

  “You okay, miss?” The cabbie looked worriedly back at me.

  I nodded and climbed out of the car, barely muttering a thanks before I paid him and then hurried up the drive toward the door. The cab roared away and the sound of the motor soon faded to nothing. I swallowed. How many were in the house? Was Gavini himself in there, or one of his men? What had they done to my dad?

  Nausea rolled through me at the thought. I crept up the steps, taking out my phone, prepared to call the police, but then slid it back in my pocket. If they wanted to kill us, we’d both be dead long before anyone showed up to help us.

  Faint voices from inside the house drifted out, what sounded like my father and another man. Then another, the second one sounding angry. I crept to the living room window and peeked in. My mouth dropped.

  Though the old flowered curtains, I saw my dad sitting at the kitchen table, back to the window, ropes tying him to the chair around the middle. His wrists were tied behind him and his ankles bound together. Two large men in dark suits stood in front of him, one on either side of the table. One held my dad’s rifle, and the other held what looked like a pair of pliers.

  Pliers. I’d heard about what the mob did to people when they refused to give over something they wanted, and plenty of it involved pliers used on body parts. My stomach jolted, and as one of the men looked up, I whipped around, flattening myself against the brick wall beside the window. Heart thumping, eyes closing.

  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” Had the man seen me? I let a wave of protectiveness for my dad burn away the terror that surged through me. I had to get in there. No way was I waiting for some cop to show up; by the time he did, my dad could be dead. I cast around for a weapon, anything to give me an advantage.

  In the far corner on the porch, my dad’s baseball bat stood against the wall. It was leaning on the other side of a chair, the top end of it sticking up. I had a feeling if it had been in a more obvious spot, those guys would have put it out of reach.

  The one inside must not have seen me, because he’d have come out by now. I slipped across the porch, careful not to slip on the soaked wood, and bent down, lifting up the bat.

  A wooden slat creaked behind me. My heart kicked up. I snatched a breath and then spun, swinging the bat fast and hard. The suit leaped back with a nervous sort of laugh, grabbed the bat, and wrenched it free.

  Fuck. He wasn’t as big as Kane, but with muscled arms and a few inches on my dad, he wasn’t tiny. Tasteful silver necklaces covered his tanned neck and rings glinted on one hand.

  “Nice try, princess.” He tossed the bat aside and grabbed the back of my neck, then marched me toward the house. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can’t make the old man talk.”

  I tried to wriggle free, but my feet skidded on the wood. He shoved me into the house, and then into the kitchen. My father turned in his seat and his eyes widened when he saw me.

  “Anika.” He yanked against the ropes binding his wrists. “Let her go, Vince. She doesn’t have what you want.”

  The other one with my dad’s gun shrugged, looking me over. The light in his eyes made my stomach clench. “Tell you what, Montrose. You let us have her, both of us, and we could be persuaded to pretend we never saw you.”

  My dad spat at him. “My daughter isn’t for sale, you prick.”

  “Not what we hear,” Vince said, and his grip on my neck turned almost loving. “Word has it Davros offered to pay your debts to the boss if she spent a half a year letting him…shall we say, take it out on her.”

  I tried to whip around, but Vince pinned me to him. “Hey! How do you—”

  “Where did you hear that?” My dad asked the man with the gun.

  “We have eyes everywhere, Montrose. Don’t we, Derik?” Vince tightened his grip on my shoulder. The man with the gun nodded.

  “Then if you know the debt will be paid, why are you still trying to squeeze it out of me? Gavini doesn’t care where he gets the cash, as long as he gets what he’s owed.”

  “Because.” Derik waved the gun. “She refused, which means Davros isn’t paying. Which means you’re on the hook, old man.”

  “Anika?” Dad looked over his shoulder at me. The relief in his voice was unmistakable. “You refused?”

  “Yes. Sorry, daddy.”

  “Why…”

  “I didn’t like the fine print.”

  Confusion deepened the fine wrinkles on his face, but he still looked as if I’d escaped a trap.

  I directed my next words at Vince. “So, what, you had someone listening to us at the restaurant?” As soon as I said it, though, I knew that couldn’t be it. We’d been sitting in a private room, and somehow I had a feeling the waitress wasn’t working for the mob.

  Vince didn’t answer. How did they know?

  “You’re gonna have to kill me, you two,” my dad was saying. “If I had the kind of money I owe Gavini, you really think I’d be sitting in this rickety old farmhouse?”

  “No. But I suspect this farm and other assets you own amount to more than you owe. Give the boss ten percent, and he’ll leave you alone. For a while.”

  “I don’t have that. This farm is on the verge of foreclosure.”

  Vince swore.

  Derik put the gun down and picked up the pliers, squeezing them. “Then I guess we have a problem.”

  I closed my eyes and forced my breathing to normalize. I had to get a hold of that gun. “Wait a minute. Stop.”

  Derik looked at me.

  I swallowed the bile that climbed up my throat. “Put the pliers down. You can have me.”

  “Anika, no!” Dad twisted violently in the chair.

  “Well, now, you see? You have a smart business girl here, Montrose.” Vince pushed me toward the table and shoved me so my chest was pinned against the wood, cheek to the tabletop. I suppressed a cry at the impact.

  “Wait a minute!” my dad shouted. Both men stopped. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “Can it, old man. She-”

  “You don’t understand.” When they stopped again, his eyes flickered to me. The apology in them made my stomach coil. He looked at each of the men, determined. “She isn’t my daughter.”

  The words seemed to move through my mind as if caught in sludge. I blinked at him, unable to make sense of them. Then it hit me. He was lying, trying to trick these men to protect me, right? He had to be. The alternative…it just didn’t make sense.

  Vince moved out from behind me and stomped over to my dad. Before I could react. Derik grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the table, while Vince backhanded my father across the face so hard his head rebounded off the back of the chair. His eyes turned dazed.

  “How stupid do you think we are?” Vince snarled and yanked a cloth out of his pocket, shoving into my dad’s mouth. My dad made a livid sound and bucked, but Vince ignored him. “It doesn’t matter who the sperm donor is, you’re her father in every way that counts.”

  “Yeah.” As Vince returned to his place behind me, Derik grinned wildly at my father. “Now shut up and watch us make your daughter scream.”

  I struggled, but Derik’s grip on my wrists tightened. He stretched me across the table, and for a moment, I panicked. The gun lay on the table, easily within reach, but as long as one of the men held my wrists, I wouldn’t be able to grab it.

  “Wait a minute,” I blurted.

  Vince paused with his hands on my ass and let out an impatient sound. I put on my best humiliated voice, not entirely having to fake it. “Just…let my dad go into the other room. If you two are going to do this, don’t do it in front of him.”

  My dad shook his head furiously, growling around the gag
, and I managed to catch his eye, giving him my best reassuring look. Trying to tell him to go with it, I had this.

  He blinked to let me know he understood. Relief flooded me as Vince straightened, waiting, while Derik released my hands and went to untie my dad.

  He was my dad, damn it. He was.

  “Just hurry it up, Vince. We need to be out of here before the stalker boyfriend comes looking for her.”

  Vince didn’t say anything, but waited while his partner pulled my dad up from his chair and shoved him into the living room. Then I felt Vince’s hands slide off me and he backed up. “Spread those pretty legs, princess.”

  Why he let me go, I didn’t know, but I seized the opportunity. I grabbed the rifle from the table and spun around, ramming the butt end of the rifle, two-handed, into the side of his head with a shout.

  Six years of Dad teaching me self defense paid off, because the blow hit him right in the temple, and he dropped to the floor with a thud. I stared at his unconscious form in disbelief. I’d never actually hit anyone like that before outside of sparring with my father.

  A gunshot rang out in the other room. There was a crash. “Dad…” Rifle in hands, I raced into the living room. My dad was on the floor, leaning against a wall, clutching his leg. Blood spurted out from between his fingers. Derik stood over him, gun pointed at him. Instinctively, I rushed for him, but the mobster spun and pointed his weapon at me. “Don’t even. Drop the gun and kick it over.”

  I stopped, reluctantly dropping the rifle, and put my hands up to show him my surrender. Dad needed medical attention I seriously doubted Derik would give him, and I wouldn’t be much good to him dead. I kicked the gun over.

  “Now what?” Stalling for time.

  “Where’s Vince? What did you do it him?”

  “Oh, he’s sleeping now.”

  Dad snorted, and then winced in pain. Derik turned and aimed the pistol at him and my dad pressed his lips together, hand up in surrender.

  The mobster pointed the weapon at me. “Get on your knees.”

  “Really? Shouldn’t we get to know each other first?” I gave him my sweetest smile.