The Vendetti Empire

by Sapphire Knight

  The Vendetti Empire

  Copyright © 2018 by Sapphire Knight

  Cover Design by CT Cover Creations

  Editing by Mitzi Carroll

  Format by Formatting Done Wright

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  WARNING

  This novel includes graphic language and adult situations. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be hotspots for certain individuals. This book is intended for ages 17 and older due to some steamy spots. This work is fictional. The story is meant to entertain the reader and may not always be completely accurate. Any reproduction of these works without Author Sapphire Knight’s written consent is pirating and will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.

  This book is fiction.

  The guys are over the top Alphas.

  My men and women are nuts.

  This is not real.

  Don’t steal my shit.

  Read for enjoyment.

  This is not your momma’s cookbook.

  Easily offended people should not read this.

  Don’t be a dick.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Vendetti Familia

  Dedicated to:

  Common Terms

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 17

  End of Part I

  Also by Sapphire

  Keep up with Sapphire

  My husband - I love you more than words can express. Thank you for the support you’ve shown me. Some days you drive me crazy, other days I just want to kiss your face off. Who knew this would turn out to be our life, but in this journey, I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else. Thanks for falling for my brand of crazy. I love you, I’m thankful for you, I can’t say it enough.

  My boys - You are my whole world. I love you both. This never changes, and you better not be reading these books until you’re thirty and tell yourself your momma did not write them! I can never express how grateful I am for your support. You are quick to tell me that my career makes you proud, that I make you proud. As far as mom wins go; that one takes the cake. I love you with every beat of my heart and I will forever.

  My Beta Babes - This wouldn’t be possible without you. I can’t express my gratitude enough for each of you. Thank you so much!

  Editor Mitzi Carroll – You’re one of the most dedicated, kindest people I’ve come across in this industry. Your hard work makes mine stand out, and I’m so grateful! Thank you for pouring tons of hours into my passion and being so wonderful to me. Thank you for your friendship and support.

  Cover Designer Clarise Tan– I cannot thank you enough for the wonderful work you’ve done for me. Your support truly means so much. I can’t wait to see our future projects, you always blow me away. You are a creative genius!

  Photographer Wander Aguiar - Thank you so much for the support you’ve been kind enough to show me in our book community. Your talent is beyond amazing and I look forward to our future projects. You’ve made the entire process quick and easy. Thank you for your friendship and to your amazing team (Andrey, Jenny, Donna, Stephanie) as well. I adore each of you!

  Cover Model Jonny James – Thank you for being a great guy to work with and such a good sport about being on my cover. You always capture my character perfectly and are a true gentleman each time I see you.

  Formatting by Formatting Done Wright – Thank you so much for making my books always look professional and beautiful. I truly appreciate it and the kindness you’ve shown me. I know I can depend on you even in short notice and it’s so refreshing. You are always quick and efficient, thank you!!!

  My good friends Hilary Storm and Victoria Ashley- You both are such an inspiration. I thank my stars that books brought you both into my life. #Crew

  My Blogger Friends –YOU ARE AMAZING! I LOVE YOU! No really, I do!!! You take a new chance on me with each book and in return share my passion with the world. You never truly get enough credit, and I’m forever grateful!

  My Readers – I love you. You make my life possible, thank you. I can’t wait to meet many of you this year and in the future!

  Romano and Liliana Vendetti – Parents

  Matteo ‘Ruthless’ Vendetti (33) – 1st and Capo dei capi, head of the familia

  Salvatore Vendetti (30) – 2nd

  Valentino Vendetti (27) – 3rd

  Dante Vendetti (24) – 4th

  Luciano Vendetti (21) – 5th

  Santino Vendetti (18) – 6th

  Cristiano Vendetti (16) – 7th

  The friends who stopped what they were doing to read this book. You gave me just the boost of confidence I needed to push this bad boy to the end. You all are amazing and I appreciate it immensely.

  Capo dei Capi – Boss of bosses

  Polizia – Police

  Mia - My

  Familia – Family

  Bella – Beautiful

  Moglie – Wife

  Fidanzata – Fiancé

  Fiore – Flower

  Violetta – Violet

  Grazie – Thanks

  He gurgles as I strangle him—my hands clutched tightly around his neck, his face changing colors. First, it goes pale turning into an angry red; he clutches tightly to my wrists for a moment longer. His coloring switches into a purplish-blue and his meaty fingers fall away. Mine remain sturdy, a deathly vice until the fight escapes him completely. His weight grows heavier and I release, letting him fall to the floor, spent.

  Another one dead.

  Another traitor gone.

  This is what you do when you’re in line to be Capo. You clean house as the time nears to take the reins. My father’s old, and he wants to retire. He deserves a bit of tranquility during his senior years. This has been in the works for years now, him grooming me to lead. Since I was ten years old, I’ve known I’d be Capo someday. I’ll never forget the elation I felt knowing that one day I’d head up our familia’s empire. I’ll save that for another time. I prefer not to reminisce of my few untainted memories when merely moments before, I strangled a man with my bare hands.

  It’s liberating, killing a man—especially if he’s a fool. It makes witnessing the life drain from their frightened gaze even sweeter. They all underestimate me—my father’s enemies—and they shouldn’t. I don’t have some bullshit nickname like Bull or Cleaner or whatever the hell else they go by. No, they call me Ruthless. I’ve earned it and I love seeing them tremble in my wake. I make my father proud and I protect my brothers with my reputation alone.

  “Matty, let’s go out?”
The oldest of my younger brothers suggests it like it’s a question. He may want to do something, but he knows to ask rather than demand. They all do. I have six brothers who look up to me and help watch my back; they range in age from sixteen to twenty-nine.

  “If we stop, you stay away from anything that isn’t alcohol. Understand?”

  He grunts, but if he doesn’t obey, I’ll drag his ass out. I’ve done it before, and I’d do it again. He enjoys substances too much and I won’t let him sink down that path. I won’t let him kill himself or disgrace the familia.

  An hour later and we’re at a club, line stretching around the front of the building. We were here the last time we visited Milan; it was packed then too. I rarely take care of business myself outside of New York, but this was a friend of my father’s, so it deserved a special trip. Plus, my brother wanted to shop, and it was fashion week. It may sound strange, but when you’re a prominent familia and frequently in the public eye, what you wear is important. It helps convey the first impression on people and ours radiates power and wealth.

  The Vendettis run New York and it’s vital that everyone knows it and respects it.

  The bouncer nods, waving us through. I roll four deep—myself, my brother, Salvatore, and two of my men. Anyone connected to the life of crime knows who my family is, who I am. I’m important and it’s imperative I remain alive until I’m done getting my familia prepared for the Capo under me. My own son will eventually take over, but for that to happen, I must have children with someone.

  “I need a drink,” Salvatore announces, strolling directly for the bar. I let him be. If he’s at the bar, he’s staying away from the powders and pills that are being passed around like party favors.

  With a quick step, I stop a server passing by with a tray full of drinks. She’s surprised, a pleased smile gracing her lips, until I down a few of the shots on her tray.

  “Hey! Those are for customers. You can’t do that.”

  It’s hard to hear over the noise, but after a moment, what she says registers. I’ve studied many languages over the years, all in preparation. My father has always said that it’s better to know too many languages than not enough. You can’t get swindled if you know what they’re saying.

  Reaching into my front pocket, I hand over two, hundred-dollar bills and take the tray from her grip. I pass it behind me so my men can each have a shot and then I can finish the others off when I’m ready. “Keep it.”

  She’s not fluent in English, but her mouth pops open when she realizes that I just gave her a huge tip. She nods, flashing a timid smile and races back to the bar—I’m assuming to refill her tray before I have a chance to change my mind.

  “Thirsty?” I gesture toward the tray of shots, nodding to Vito and Severo. They’ve earned a drink. They’re always cleaning up bodies that I leave behind and making sure no one stabs me in the back—literally.

  “Grazie.” Severo nods and takes a glass.

  “Si.” Vito grabs one as well.

  I watch as they swallow them back and drink down two more myself. I pass my empty shot glasses to Severo and head for the dance floor. I caught sight of something pretty, something free.

  She has deep purple hair and legs that go on for miles. They’re right on display, barely covered in a tiny charcoal skirt. It’s paired with an obnoxious silver sequin jacket that shimmers as she waves her hands in the air. This new age pop crap isn’t dancing; it’s jumping around and jiggling your ass.

  There’s an abundance of multicolor lights shining from above, running over the crowd, painting everyone in a different color. She still stands out with her pink, glittery lipstick and it makes my cock ache just from looking at her. She’s dressed for fucking—built for fucking by a man such as myself.

  A new song comes on, singing about guys her age not knowing how to treat her or touch her. The woman moves her hips in a rhythm, seducing me with each tilt until I blink and I’m standing in front of her, towering over her. Her winged eyeliner giving her just an edge of mystery behind those big, innocent eyes that practically beg for my attention.

  A naughty grin lights her face as she runs a hand down the front of my suit jacket and I pull her in closer. Our bodies brush against each other with each tilt of her hips. It’s like she’s spinning a spell, paired with the burn from the liquor and my mouth is on hers. Her tongue is made of velvet and sin. The woman can kiss like she was bred for it.

  Guys her age don’t know how to touch her for sure. I’d never let her out of bed.

  The room’s hot and stuffy, all the body’s crammed in together on the dance floor, our cocoon even more intimate as her tongue twirls with mine, promising me things she could never keep. Her hands bring mine to her hips and I bend, running them up and over the outside of her thighs.

  They’re firm and muscular; I know she could ride me if I let her. Or wrap her legs around my waist as I drove into her. She’d be fun. My hands find their way under the hem of her skirt, rubbing, caressing until my fingertips come in contact with her lace covered pussy lips.

  Shoving the scrap of fabric to the side, I thrust two of my fingers inside. Her kiss gets deeper, her mouth telling on her, confessing just how turned on she really is. She vibrates, damn near purring in my mouth as I pump my digits in and out. She’s so damn tight; I’d almost swear she was a virgin if she weren’t in a place like this, dressed like that.

  It takes mere seconds before her mouth is open, moaning loudly, but the music pumps through the building, her beautiful pleasure fading into the night with her orgasm. Her pussy grips my fingers, pulling and throbbing around them, wetness coating my fingers as she comes all over my hand.

  Some may call a woman like her a whore, but not me. I’m a dog for pushing her, touching her and making her give in, but I don’t care. There’s something so unbelievably freeing about a random hookup or a one-night stand in a completely different country with someone you’ll never see again. I want to discover every inch of her, leave a lasting imprint she can look back on in five years and still feel me there.

  “Violet!” is yelled to our side and her lips leave mine, her eyes dazed as she stares at me. My fingers slip free, my lips wet from her kiss. I was just fucking her with my mouth and it was beyond incredible. I probably could’ve come myself had she not pulled away. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted as she pants.

  “Violet, we have to go, now!” her friend shouts again, tugging at her elbow. Another girl behind her, gestures in agreement.

  “Mr. Vendetti,” Vito rumbles and taps my shoulder, calling for my attention. “Your father wishes to speak to you.” I nod and turn back toward the woman, but she’s no longer there. She and her friends have disappeared just like that, and instead of me leaving an impression on her, she’s left one on me.

  With an exhale, I toss her image to the back of my mind. It’s no use having my men fetch her. As the future Capo, I’m already betrothed. Too bad it’s to the Bottaro Princess—a Sicilian—and one of my familia’s long-standing enemies.

  “Matteo, this has to happen.” My father’s eyebrow raises in his no bullshit sort of way he’s done for as long as I can remember. “You can’t display any type of weakness. A wife will show you’re not afraid of the long haul. The men will feel more confident with you.” He may be getting older, but he’s still the strongest person I know. If anyone had a chance at immortality, it’d be him, and the man’s a shark when it comes to living the life of Capo.

  “I understand, it’s tradition. I’m just surprised that you’re serious about stepping down.”

  “It’s time, Matteo.” He waves me off, his voice sounding tired, the wrinkles beside his eyes seeming more prominent recently. “You understand why we need this merger with the Sicilians? Si?”

  He ignores my noncommittal grunt and continues.

  “It’ll help you in the future. Her father’s use will come in handy someday and it’ll benefit you a great deal. She’s their Princess. Sh
e’s at your station, even if she is a watered-down Sicilian with all their mingled breeding over the years. You can pair your brothers up with other familias as the need arises, and then later when you have your own sons, do the same. It’s how things have always been done. Blood controls this life—no other.”

  I know all of this. We’ve been over it since I was a child. He’s been raising me to be his shadow—his successor—for as long as I can remember. Even as a small boy, everything was tied up in some sort of lesson. I eat, breathe, and sleep the Mafia.

  “She’s young.” I bring up the one thing that’s been bothering me again. It has nothing to do with her watered-down breeding as my father would call it, and everything to do with having a strong partner. This is not the life for a weak woman, or a young one for that matter.

  I haven’t seen her. My father promises she’s beautiful, but that’s not what bothers me either. She’s nineteen years old, barely older than a child. I’m a thirty-three-year-old man. What would I do with someone so young? Well, besides make her have ten of my children like my father wants? I was hoping it’d be someone my age, so we could at least have a mutual respect for each other. This one would be more suited marrying Cristiano, my sixteen-year-old brother or Dante my nineteen-year-old brother. Not me. She won’t have any idea what to do with a man like me.

  “Relax…this is how it’s always been. We marry them young, they’re easier to mold how we want them that way. They’re able to have many children and the passion will stay alive much longer this way. You need to have a woman that will listen and a young one will do that. Older women become too headstrong, and in this life, you have to be the strong one, Matteo.”

  Another thing we disagree on. My mother was a powerful woman for many years and she helped mold us into the men we are today. I would much rather have someone beside me rather than behind me or left at home to do whatever it is that women at home do. Raise children, I suppose. She won’t be cooking or cleaning; we have staff for that.