His Hostage: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

by Willow Winters

  I could run, I know that. I could go to a shelter and wait for the familia to eventually take me out. I could go into witness protection and give them everything I have on Vince. But I won’t. I don’t want to.

  The blonde officer looked at me with pity, while the brunette one like I was a fucking idiot. And maybe I am. I know I could go to a women's shelter. They tried to convince me that’s where I should be while I get back on my feet. But that’s not where I want to be. I want to be with Vince.

  Dante opens the door with an aggressive look directed at the cop car. He looks pissed and it takes me by surprise, but it’s not directed at me. Still, I struggle to breathe, and my gaze falls to the floor. Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have come here. This was a mistake.

  I move to turn away and go anywhere other than here. I don’t care where, but his strong hand comes down on my shoulder, stopping me from leaving. “Come on in,” he says calmly. I look over my shoulder and see the female officers watching me. They look like they’re waiting to pounce.

  It’s my last chance to decide. I know it is. I can go inside and risk whatever plan the familia has for me, or I can turn around and take my chances with the witness protection program. I look up at Dante and ask him the only thing I want to know. “Is Vince here?”

  He gives me a tight smile as he answers, “Not yet.” As soon as I hear his answer I walk inside quickly, pushing my body against the doorframe to get the fuck away from the cops. My arms are still wrapped tight around my shoulders.

  “Elle!” Linda yells from the dining room. She strides toward me and wraps her arms around me. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” she asks me, pushing the hair out of my face. A soft smile forms on my lips. Sweetheart.

  “I’m scared,” I answer honestly. I really am. My body starts to tremble.

  “It’s okay, we’ve got you now.” She pulls me in for a hug and gently pats my back. She doesn’t understand that that’s why I’m scared. I feel like a sheep that’s walked into a lion’s den. I open my eyes and see Anthony and Dante watching me closely, mumbling something to each other.

  Dante walks toward us, and I pull away from Linda. I give her a tight smile as Dante tells her to go upstairs. She says something to him, a protest of sorts, but I can’t hear. It’s like white noise in my ears. I turn toward the window and look outside, only to see the cop car leaving, driving away to leave me to this fate I’ve chosen.

  Dante stands next to me and puts a hand on my arm. “Come sit with me, Elle.” I look up at him and try to speak, but I can’t. The knot in my stomach grows larger and my skin turns to ice with fear. I nod since the words won’t come out.

  He leads me to his office. Anthony falls in line behind me. I'm convinced it’s a sentencing. I’m being led to my death. Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes as I sit in the chair in front of his desk. Dante’s quick to come to my side as I put my hands over my face and sob.

  “I swear I didn’t--” I try to speak, but a hiccup interrupts me.

  He shushes me and pats my back. “It’ll be alright, Elle. We’re just waiting for Vince.” Hearing his name helps calms me down. Vince will take care of me. He’ll protect me. I know he will.

  After a moment my breath evens out, and my head seems to clear. I feel tired and emotionally drained as well. “When will he be here?” I finally manage to ask.

  Dante searches my face for a moment, and I see Anthony sit in the chair on the far side of the room. “That depends on what you told them,” he finally says.

  “I didn’t tell them anything,” I answer back. A smile grows slowly on his face.

  “I believe you.” He sits at his desk and pulls out a bottle of some brown liquid. “Would you like a drink, Elle?”

  I scrunch up my nose. “I don’t like whiskey.” He laughs from deep in his chest.

  “Good thing this is bourbon then. I’m sure you could use a drink.” He pours three shots, and gives one to me as Anthony reaches for his.

  “Throw it back and I’ll get you a chaser.” He winks and tosses his shot back, so I do the same with mine. Ugh. It tastes awful.

  I put the glass on the table and look at him straight in the eyes. “The chaser?” I ask. I could really fucking use it. I want to lick my dress to get this taste out of my mouth, but then I’d have to lift the hem up to my face, and that wouldn’t be ladylike at all.

  Before Dante can answer, the door opens behind me and I turn in my seat to see who it is.

  “Vince!” I get up from the chair, knocking it into the desk and run into his arms. He holds me tight, and I melt into him. Everything is better now. I nuzzle into his arms. The heat from the liquor intensifies the warmth in my chest.

  I pull back and look up at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t--”

  He kisses me on the lips, cutting me off. He pulls back and a small grin pulls at his lips. “I know, sweetheart.”

  “Do they have anything?” I hear Anthony ask.

  “Nothing. They were reaching.” Vince answers over the top of my head. He leans down and gives me a peck on the lips. I grip him tighter, and he rubs my back in soothing strokes.

  “You did good, sweetheart. You did real good.” Hearing his praise makes my heart feel light. He holds me for a moment and then they start talking behind me. I try not to listen as I shut my eyes and just focus on how good he feels.

  “We need to get those MC bastards,” Vince says, and it makes my eyes pop open. I want to ask who they are. I want to know if they were the ones who shot at us. But I remember the rules. I turn in his arms and look to the door. I’m afraid to ask if I can leave. I shouldn’t be here listening. I know that much. But he pulls me into him, my back against his front, and he kisses my neck.

  “We got 'em waiting for you, Vince.” Anthony’s eyes travel to my face and then back to Vince. “We figured you would want to do the honors.”

  “Damn right I want the honors. All of them?” he asks.

  “Still looking for two of them.” Anthony answers in a tight voice. It makes my stomach churn. Judging by the look on his face, that’s really fucking bad. I try to ignore it all. I need to forget.

  His hands grip my hips and he leans in to talk to me in my ear, “Sweetheart, you stay here.”

  I turn around and plead with him, “No. Don’t leave me.” I don’t want him to go. I don’t want to be left here.

  “They put a hand on you, baby?” he asks me. “Who hurt you?”

  I gently shake my head. No one’s hurt me. “No one.”

  “That’s 'cause you’re mine.” He kisses me on the lips. “I’ll be back.”

  “Please, Vince. Just wait till I’m asleep. I need you.” His face softens and he leans down to kiss me.

  “I can do that, sweetheart.”

  “Good man,” Dante says from behind me. “Take care of your girl, and then you guys take care of that shit tonight.” Vince nods his head as Dante walks to the door and opens it. “Don’t be late for dinner tomorrow,” he adds before crossing through the door. Under his breath, he mumbles, “I gotta take care of your mother.”

  Vince smiles at his father and leads me to the door with his hand on the small of my back. “Let’s go home, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

  Chapter 32: Vince

  Both men stare back at me. Only two out of four, but I’m giving them the full treatment. I want to send a message. These are the bastards who opened fire on me. On my family. On my sweetheart. My fists clench in anger. They’re screaming through their gags. I wanted to make sure they were awake for what comes next. Tommy beat the shit out of one of them, and it was nearly 40 minutes before he woke up. It made it easier to tie his ass up to the truck though. The other one put up a fight, not that it was of much use against all of us. I stretch my jaw, feeling the slight bruise there from the shit punch he landed. I suppose if I knew I was going out, I’d fight like hell, too.

  “Any last words?” I ask, knowing they’re trying to say something. I don’t give a fuck though. They screa
m louder and fight the ropes that are chafing their skin.

  “You ready, boss?” Anthony asks, as he tosses the container into the bed of the truck. It smacks against the one guy's leg and I swear to God he shits himself at the touch. The whole front yard of the Locos Diablos MC club house smells like gasoline, so I just take a few steps back. I hope the two fuckers we didn’t find are in there right now or hiding somewhere watching. I want them to see this. I want them to know what’s going to happen to them.

  “Light it up.” I don’t turn my back as Tommy lights a match and tosses it at them.

  I stare at the flames as they rise higher and higher. Their screams get louder and louder. I know the cops will be here soon, and I need to get my ass out of here. The smoke will rise and someone will call it in. I gotta get out of here in case it explodes, too. Everyone on the streets will know, though. You don’t fuck with the Valettis. A chill runs through my body as I turn and get into the car. Tommy’s in the driver’s seat and Anthony’s in the back.

  “Am I taking you home, boss?”

  “Yeah.” I need to get home and feel her writhing under me. I’ll need her every night until I die.

  No one touches what’s mine. No one but me.

  Chapter 33: Elle

  I purse my lips as I look at the canvas. I set it up in the dining room so I’d get more natural light on it while I worked. There’s just too much darkness. It’s supposed to be a man’s lips on a woman’s neck, with his hand around her throat and her mouth parted. It was too realistic though, initially. I wanted to make it more abstract, so I added a black gradient to make them look like they were fading into it. But, I overdid it. I think I really fucked it up. I take a step back and put the brush on the easel as I take a deep breath in, and then out.

  “They’re going to love it, sweetheart,” Vince says from behind me, and I smile. I keep my eyes closed as his arm wraps around my waist and he kisses my neck, just like I knew he would. He holds me to him and I open my eyes. We both stare at the painting.

  “You think they’ll really like it?” It’s my first exhibit. The gallery next to Becca’s restaurant is featuring me in their exhibit. I’m scared shitless. Painting is a lot of fun, and relaxing as well, but I never thought it’d be a viable career. There’s so much risk and no stability. But Vince is right. It’s the next step for me. It’s been a few weeks since the shooting, and everything has finally calmed down. I’ve even gone out a few times with Becca. Vince didn’t like the idea at first, since there’s still something going on with the MCs, but he relented. I’m fairly certain him and Dom just sat outside of the restaurant every single time. I know they did at least once. Becca and I kinda of love it. How protective they are. The only place Vince has taken me is to family dinners and the gun range. I need to get out and do something. Thank God for Becca. I call her almost every day. She’s going to pop sometime soon. Having her as a friend really helped me to take painting seriously. She calls me an artist, but I haven’t earned that title yet.

  My vow to be more social could be going better. I was going to take my mother to her AA meeting. But when I showed up and found her drunk and heard her excuses… I stormed off and haven’t been back since. It wasn’t worth cussing her out. I’m tired of putting the energy into helping her. I really do want to try; I want to help her. But I can’t take her bullshit anymore.

  I tilt my head and get a wave of inspiration as I look at the canvas. I need to make more of it black and white, and have the red lips saturated in comparison. That and more contrast on his hand. That would really make it pop.

  “I’ve got it!” I yell out, and move to pick up the paints on the table.

  “I gotta get going, Elle. Are you sure you wanna open those now? They’ll dry up by the time I get back.”

  Arousal shoots from my chest down to my heated core. The thought of him leaving turns me on so damn much. He still ties me up when he leaves, and fucks me so fucking good when he gets back. I love it. I live for his touch. I clench my thighs and close my eyes trying to hide my desire. Not that it matters. He knows how depraved I am. And he loves it, too.

  But playing during the daytime has waned a bit. I’ve been busy with shopping dates and luncheons. The women in his family are so friendly and open, I can’t possibly say no to their invitations. He always ties me up at night though. And I fucking love it.

  My eyes shoot open and I stare at the canvas. This is supposed to be done tonight, and it needs at least two days to dry completely. I bite the inside of my cheek contemplating what I should do.

  “You need to get this done, don’t you?” he asks, picking up his mug off the table. He grabs mine as well and walks to the sink.

  “I really should,” I say, as I take in more details of the painting. I should take advantage of this inspiration while I can.

  “When I get back...” Vince walks over to me, and reaches under my nightgown to cup my pussy. He breathes on my neck and puts his lips up to my ear, “...you'd better be ready for me.”

  His words send a shiver down my back. My lips part and a small moan of lust escapes me. He turns me to face him and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips. I deepen it. I want him now. I always want him.

  “Did you hear me, sweetheart?” he asks with a slight threat in his tone.

  I look up at him through my thick lashes and place my hands on his chest. “Yes.” I plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  He smiles down at me. “That’s my girl. I’ll be gone for a few hours.” He gives me another kiss, then gives my ass a squeeze before leaving me in the dining room.

  I watch him as he leaves. I’m not sure what he’s doing tonight. But I don’t ask. He told me if anyone asks, that he plays the stock market. I sigh, feeling a little empty inside. I don’t like lying, but luckily for me, no one has asked in the half a dozen times I’ve left this house.

  I shake off the ill feelings and get to work. I add a little white paint, and then some black onto the easel. I need a really faint shade of grey though. As I dig though a mason jar of brushes for my favorite thin one, my phone goes off.

  Becca. I grin from ear to ear. Baby time!

  I answer the phone and have to refrain from asking if her water broke. She told me she’d stab me if I asked one more time.

  “Hello?” I answer in a playful, singsong voice.

  “I need a trampoline,” she says as clear as day on the phone.

  “What?” A trampoline?

  “I need to get this baby out! My fat ass needs to get on the trampoline and have gravity do its thing.” I bust out laughing. I freaking love her. I smile as Rigs barrels into the room, wagging his tail that moves the back half of his body. He looks ridiculous. This dog is going to be huge when he's fully grown. I walk to the back door and let him out while she talks.

  “I need to get this painting done and then have a nice glass of wine,” I sigh into the phone as I shut the door, leaving him out to play in the fenced backyard. It’s a large backyard. It’s the perfect size for a trampoline or a swing set. I rub my belly, thinking we could have a little one someday. I could be complaining about heartburn and backaches like Becca does. I think I’d go with a swing set though. Trampolines seem a little scary for little ones.

  “Well, have an extra one for me,” Becca says with a laugh. I smile at Becca’s playful tone, and then my heart stops.

  I can hear Rigs snarling and growling, and then all of a sudden he's barking like crazy. My blood freezes, and my body goes numb with paralysis. I’m not okay. I turn to race to the backyard to get him. I need to get to Rigs. I don’t make it two steps before the front door smashes open, and I scream and drop the phone. My body nearly falls to the ground, I just barely catch myself, and I cover my head with my arms before staring at them with wide eyes.

  There are three or four men, all dressed in long-sleeved black shirts, wearing ski masks, covering their faces. One of them is pointing a gun at me as the others move around him, walking toward me
with determined steps. One barks orders at the others. He sounds Hispanic. The responses he gets sound like American accents though. I try to pay attention to the details. I scream it out, hopeful that Becca will hear. “Four men! One is Hispanic! Gun! Al--”

  A hand whips across my face, knocking me to the ground. A metallic taste fills my mouth. I see my phone on the ground. My heart sinks. It’s off. It must’ve hung up when it fell from my hands. She didn’t hear. My eyes close with failure. I know they’re going to take me. I know there’s nothing I can do. My body goes limp. I won’t fight them. Not here. Not now. Not when I don’t have a chance. I didn’t just start living for them to come and kill me. It’s not going to happen like this. I won’t let it.

  Someone kicks me in the stomach. I try to curl inward, but they grab me. The last thing I see is a fist coming at my face as one man holds my arms to my side and pins my back to his chest. The fists lands hard on my jaw, and the world fades to black.

  I don’t fight it. I’ll wait.

  And when I wake...

  I will make them pay for taking me away from Vince.

  Chapter 34: Vince

  I tap the small, black velvet box in my pocket as I get out of the car and shut the door. I can’t wait to ask her. Well, I’m not going to ask. I’m going to tell her she’s marrying me. It’s been enough time that Ma will approve. She calls me after their lunch dates. I’m glad the two of them get along. Nothing at all like the relationship Elle has with her mother.

  I cringe remembering how she reacted when I told her Sandra went to rehab. Maybe once she’s out and stays sober Elle will believe she’s changed. It seems like the more time she spends with the familia, the more resistant she is to forgiving Sandra. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just hurts me thinking she won’t have a relationship with her own mother.