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

by Raven Dark

  “Why? What are you afraid of?”

  “Nothing. I’m not afraid, damn it.”

  I thought I heard Gala give a bitter laugh, then her voice lowered to a hiss I couldn’t make out.

  That’s when I’d reached a spot where the path split off into two, one heading for an area below the living room window, the other path leading to the art room doors. I’d ended up right where Kane and Gala stood, having caught up to them in time to hear Kane reply to whatever she’d said.

  “Gala, don’t push this.”

  “Either you tell her or I will.” Gala sounded livid.

  “Don’t you dare.” Kane grabbed her arm. She rounded on him. He released her, looking apologetic. Wow. I’d never imagined anyone could argue like that with him. Like an equal. It hurt somehow. “Fuck, don’t even think about it,” he repeated.

  “Ugh.” Gala turned, stalking off.

  I barely even understood what I’d seen beyond the fact that their conversation made me painfully aware they were hiding something from me. Kane had always told me his relationship with Gala wasn’t what it looked like, and I’d chosen to hope, to believe in him. Had I been a fool?

  “Tell me what?” The words were out before I could stop them. Tell me that there was no hope for us? That he and Gala would be married and I had to live with my station as a piece of tail to a future mob king?

  I’d waited for Kane to explain, but he’d only growled and went off after her. Letting me know exactly where Gala stood in his life.

  And where I did.

  Heart feeling like it was trying to break apart on my ribcage, I turned and fled back to the house. Somehow—and I didn’t know how—I’d get through the rest of this night, and as soon as I got back to the hotel with Kane, I’d find a way to make him tell me what the hell was going on once and for all.

  Once inside the house, while the maids announced that dinner was ready and everyone started to make their way into the dining room, I needed a few minutes alone. If I didn’t collect myself, I’d risk forgetting my role and endangering myself and Kane.

  A maid pointed me to a bathroom. Halfway down the hall, Kane stopped me. “Anika.” He reached for my arm. “We need to talk. I know what—”

  “I have to use the facilities, Sir.” I slipped out of his reach and headed for the bathroom, hoping I looked like it was an emergency, not like I was escaping a conversation that, because he owned me, he had a right to. Kane sighed, but let me go.

  I knocked on the bathroom door. All the facilities in this house were always closed, even when no one was in them. “Anyone in here?”

  “Just a minute.”

  Gala. Great.

  The toilet flushed, water ran, and then the door opened. “You again.” She looked down that perfect nose at me with another one of those knowing humming sounds like she’d made earlier. My stomach clenched. God, I’d never hated a woman before. Not like this.

  I let her pass and refused to turn and look, to see her walk arm in arm with Kane. Down the hall, I heard her laugh at something he said. I locked myself inside the bathroom, the only place I could be alone to think without anyone walking in on me.

  I relieved myself but made no hurry of going to dinner. While washing my hands, a faint buzzing caught my attention. On the marble counter, the ugliest phone I’d ever seen, hot pink and covered in what looked like dozens of real diamond studs, vibrated. That phone could only be Gala’s. I glared at the thing as if it were the source of all my problems.

  Then I noticed the message that flashed across the screen.

  I need you tonight. Bad.

  I groaned, closing my eyes. Really? Kane and Gala were likely at the dinner table with his family, probably sitting right beside each other, and they were sexting? I wanted to be sick. “Not what it looks like, my ass.”

  Christ, I wanted to smash something. I ripped the towel off the rack and dried my hands.

  The phone buzzed again. I glanced at it before I’d even thought about it. No way was I the type of person to read someone’s private phone texts, but it was a reflex, after what I’d seen. Instantly, I wished I hadn’t looked.

  Did you tell him yet? I don’t want to wait anymore.

  My jaw dropped. Tell who, what? Then I froze, my eyes on the name above the message. It wasn’t Kane’s. The name said “Holden.”

  Who the fuck was Holden?

  It slammed home what I was seeing and the pieces clicked into place before I could stop them. “What the ever loving….”

  “Miss Montrose?” One of the maids called from in the hall. “Dinner’s waiting.”

  “Shit.” My face flamed and guilt ate at me for seeing what I had. The phone buzzed again and I grabbed it. I’d return it to its owner, but it would take all my willpower not to yank Gala aside and demand to know who the guy was sexting her while she was supposed to be at her fiancé’s family dinner.

  This was so fucked up. I wanted to be furious with Kane, so livid that I felt like he got what he deserved having Gala cheat on him. I was pissed at him, but my hatred for Gala spiked, and a weird sort of need to set Kane straight about her set in on me. I wouldn’t have called the emotion protective, but he needed to know. And I hated even more that part of me wanted to tell him out of some petty need to get back at her.

  One deep breath later, I opened the door and gave the maid a nod, then headed down the hall toward the dining room. In my fist, Gala’s ugly ass phone still buzzed.

  * * * * *

  I don’t know how I managed to do the right thing. It baffled me that I managed to walk into the dining room, where everyone including Kane sat around the table, and hand Gala her phone without saying half the things that crossed my mind.

  Among other things, I wanted to make a pointed remark about not leaving her phone where everyone could see what might be on it. And maybe, right in front of Kane, tell her to tell the guy who was sending her sexy little messages to take a cold shower, at least until she was done visiting with the man she was supposed to marry.

  The man who was supposed to be mine.

  No. I’d known from minute one Kane wasn’t mine. I’d just chosen to believe there could be more between us when there obviously couldn’t.

  In spite of all the ugly, vindictive thoughts going through my head, I handed Gala the phone with a smile and a nod. She took it from me, barely giving me a look. Did I imagine the faint smile on her lips? What the hell?

  Beside her, Kane gave us both a confused look, and for some reason he flashed a second suspicious one at Gala. She didn’t seem to notice.

  Wanting to be as far from them both as I could, I looked at Kane for what to do. He gave me the subtlest nod toward a two cushioned benches against a wall near the doors.

  Oh, shit. He’d told me about those. Servant—or in this case, slave—benches. It sank in with painful slowness how real this was.

  During my training, Kane had said he wasn’t sure which would happen. I might have to sit on a bench, or I might end up at the table. He’d trained me for both. Legs shaky for some reason, I took a step toward one of the benches.

  “Kane, let her sit at the table. It’ll make things more interesting.” His mother smiled sweetly at him and gestured to me.

  Oliver looked at her like he was trying to figure out what the hell she was up to. I thought I saw a flash of empathy for me in his eyes before he sipped his wine. Beside him, Danica put her napkin in her lap as if she was trying to look busy.

  Strange, the idea of sitting away from the group offered its own humiliation, but sitting with them was almost worse. I never thought I’d hate a woman more than Gala, but Kane’s mother was rapidly taking the crown.

  “Not necessary, Mother. I don’t need her at my side every moment.”

  Was he excluding me, or trying to protect me from whatever his mother was up to? I couldn’t tell. Up until now, I would have thought the latter, but after what I knew about him and Gala…

  “Yes. Have her take the seat beside you.”
Victor’s eyes glinted at me.

  My face heated with shame. How in the hell had my dad ever considered him a friend? Everything in me wanted to let into Kane’s parents, but I kept my head down and waited. Can’t make Kane look bad in front of them. Fuck, I hate him.

  Kane opened his mouth like he was going to argue, then, looking bored, he sighed and flicked his fingers at me. I was barely in reach before he pulled me down into the chair on the opposite side of him to Gala. A maid appeared from nowhere and put a setting down for me.

  “It’s just that we’ve never seen this before.” Seraphina said.

  “Seen what, Mother?” He sounded lethal.

  “Is she trained to behave like us?”

  I glared at my plate. She’d said “she” but her tone said “it”.

  “Seraphina,” Victor drawled, but it lacked the brutality I knew he held. “Enough. No need to expend so much energy on that one.”

  In the middle of cutting his steak, Kane’s knife slipped and screeched across his plate. I snuck a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. Was his face a little dark?

  To maintain my cool, I focused on serving myself, remaining as invisible as possible as instructed. The table was laid out with everything someone of wealth could want. Lobster sat on dishes at one end, juicy steaks on the other, with leg of lamb and roasted goose between. My stomach rumbled. I could have eaten a horse, but I chose the smallest sliver of steak, remembering something Fran had told me about finishing school. They’d drilled into her that a lady never over-indulged. Small, dainty servings only.

  Kane poured me a quarter of a glass of sweet red wine, the minimal amount. I held my breath and made a point of letting his father see me sip it. The too strong taste hit my tongue and I swallowed, resisting the urge to shudder.

  “So,” Oliver said a little too loudly, “Kane, weren’t you supposed to be in Cali since last week?”

  “I had extra business here I didn’t plan on. You’ll be rid of me soon enough.” He flashed a smile at him that looked only a little forced.

  Oliver and Danica laughed.

  Just as Kane had said, his father sat at the head of the table, his mother at the other end. Oliver sat at his left, Kane to his right, but one down so that Gala could sit beside him. I wondered why Kane hadn’t sat right beside his father.

  “What about you, Oliver?” Victor looked at his older son, his voice icy. “I thought you were supposed to be in Sicily already.”

  “Is it a crime to want to see my little brother?” He looked at Kane.

  “Yeah, right.” Kane teased.

  He shrugged. “If you must know, Danica wanted to go to that fashion show Gala was in earlier today, so I booked a later flight. I’ll reimburse you for the money.”

  Victor put his utensils down with an odd slowness. “You what?”

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Kane cleared his throat, and for some reason Seraphina’s face turned sheet-white. Oliver wouldn’t look at his father, and his back was much too stiff.

  “Don’t start, dad. I’ll make it into Sicily before the meeting. I—”

  “Are you telling me you rebooked a no return flight, and skipped a major business meeting with some of my highest associates because of a woman?”

  Danica’s mouth dropped. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her fighting not to. I knew how she felt. Victor didn’t appear to notice. Seraphina sat far too still. What the hell was wrong with her?

  Oliver put his wine glass down slowly. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” he muttered.

  Victor glared at him. He fisted his steak knife in a white knuckled grip. “How many times have I told you, Oliver, you never put anything ahead of business? I didn’t raise you to cave to a woman.”

  “Dad, it’s no big deal. I’ll—”

  Victor sprang to his feet and Oliver cut off. Oliver put his hands on the table like he was going to push up from his seat, but he only got halfway to his feet. Without a word, and only a flex of his jaw muscles, Victor Davros lifted his fist and slammed his steak knife straight into the middle of Oliver’s hand.

  12

  Pandemonium reigned. As soon as Kane’s father stabbed his knife into Oliver’s hand, several things happened at once.

  Oliver fell back into his chair with a growled curse, gripping the knife and trying to pull it out. Gala, who, for the most part, always seemed so ladylike and proper, cursed softly and jumped back, knocking her chair over.

  “Ollie!” Danica screamed, leaping back. Then she passed out, collapsing to the floor with a sigh and an almost picturesque grace. Seraphina sat motionless, visibly shaking so hard the fork in her hand made a faint ticking sound against her plate.

  Kane leaped up and hurried around the table toward his brother. “Fuck, Ollie.” Victor shoved him backward, and he stumbled. Kane’s face twisted in a frightening expression and he stalked for him. “You son of a bitch.”

  “Don’t touch him.” Victor wore a strange smile, almost too calm. “Unless you want to be next, don’t touch him, boy.”

  I hurried around the table toward Oliver, instincts as a nurse already taking over as I grabbed handkerchiefs from the table.

  “No. No heroics.” Victor stabbed a finger at me and I froze.

  I spoke without thinking. “Some one has to help him, Mr. Davros. Now, or he’ll—”

  “Are you challenging me, slave girl?” He stepped around the table, and Kane put a hand out, leveling a look at me.

  “Anika, be quiet. Stay back.” His eyes warned me not to push. Looking at his brother, with a knife pinning his hand to the table, his face colorless and twisted in pain, everything in me screamed it was wrong not to offer aid. But the look in Kane’s eyes and the way he held his father off was enough to keep me frozen in place. Right, he had to appear to have total control over me, or the same thing that hand just happened to Oliver would happen to Kane.

  It took a Herculean effort, but I bowed my head and stepped slowly back to my seat. Fuck, his family, or at least his parents, were bat shit. Beyond madness. Kane’s father couldn’t seriously expect Oliver to just sit there with a knife through his hand, could he?

  “He brought this on himself,” Victor said when Kane rounded on him. “I didn’t raise my sons to be pussies.”

  “Fine. Back off and let me help him, or would you rather fight me?” Kane stepped back, giving room, hands out in invitation.

  Victor’s lips twisted in a cruel smile, but he also backed up a pace. “You aren’t worth it, boy. Do what you have to, and get out of my house. Both of you. Seraphina, come!” He stomped out, stopping at the door only until he heard his wife’s chair push back.

  Kane’s mother stood up slowly, her expression perfectly serene now. Only the sweat on her forehead and face betrayed her fear. She looked at Oliver and Kane. “You two should know better than to anger him. Excuse me.”

  I stared, watching the woman’s back retreat. Had she really just? Kane didn’t look at her at all. Fists tight, rage pounded off him.

  With only his brother and the women in attendance now, his manner changed, as if he’d flicked a switch. He looked over Oliver and then at me. “Anika, get over here.” But the forcefulness sounded different now.

  I rushed to Kane and Oliver’s side and bent down, giving Oliver’s hand a quick once over. “Shit.” The knife had been plunged right through his hand, all the way to the hilt, pinning it to the wood. I squatted down and looked under the table. The knife’s tip stuck out of the wood, just barely. Oliver looked like he was going into shock.

  I allowed a quick glance around. Danica still lay on the floor. Gala had come to stand near Kane, watching with horror. How much could I say with her there? Kane seemed to pick up on my worry, because he put his hand on my shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Anika. Tell me what you need.”

  I got the message. No one was going to punish me for not acting like a slave. From what I’d seen tonight, I didn’t know how that w
as possible, but I had to trust him. I knew Kane well enough to know he didn’t have a clue how to help his brother.

  I nodded, slipping into a kind of healer mode. “He needs a hospital. Let me call it in.” I nodded for Kane’s phone.

  “No….” Oliver tried to get up and Kane pushed his shoulders down.

  “Don’t move, Ollie. No, Anika, no doctors.”

  “What? Why? If you don’t get him to a surgeon now—”

  “No. No way.” Oliver looked at me pleadingly.

  Kane shook his head and lowered his voice. “No doctors, Anika. Too many questions. My father—”

  I closed my eyes, stopping him with a nod. I’d seen reactions like his in the emergency room often enough to know what he’d been about to say. “They’ll question your father and it’ll make it worse. I understand, but this is well beyond my skills. I’m no surgeon.”

  “You are now.”

  “Fuck.” I looked at the knife sticking out of Oliver’s hand and swallowed.

  “You can do this, angel.” Kane squeezed my shoulder.

  It amazed me how much strength I drew from those words, how much confidence I drew from him. I blew out a breath, hoping my medical training would be enough. I certainly hadn’t done anything like this without a doctor taking the lead.

  “Okay. First. Get your father out of here. I don’t care how, but I won’t have him trying to cut off my hand for this. Or yours.”

  With a nod, Kane backed up and took out his phone, talking quickly to David.

  “Gala.” I threw a glance over my shoulder at her. She shook herself, looking baffled, as if she hadn’t seen me before. I’d worry about whether I could trust her later. “Get me as many rags as you can. Go.”

  She fled for the kitchen.

  “Kane, get Danica onto a couch.”

  While he picked the woman up and lay her out on a couch in the living room, a phone rang in the distance and Victor’s voice rumbled from somewhere in another room. A moment later, footsteps sounded and a door closed.

  “You’re clear,” Kane said.

  I turned to Oliver, taking his shoulder gently. “Oliver? Oliver, look at me.”