Men of Mayhem

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Men of Mayhem Page 21

by Anthology


  Dominic buried his face into her shoulder, knowing his best wasn’t good enough.

  D

  D directed Dominic to his studio. He looked both distraught and exhausted, Vinnie’s behavior having worn him down. He’d taken care of his twin, doing everything he could, but now he needed taking care of.

  She gave him a sedative, then settled him in bed. Within seconds, he fell asleep. She was sure he hadn’t slept for weeks, because whenever she saw him he had dark rings under his lovely blue eyes.

  She exited his room, spotting a soldier removing Vinnie’s guitar and amp. She followed the man out of the studio and into the main house, coming to a stop as the Don emerged from the office passageway. His hard violet gaze fell on her. Lately, Dominic’s oldest brother seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face, his demeanor making him unpleasant to be around.

  He headed over to her, his raw power intimidating. “Why were you at H20 so early in the morning?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her.

  “A woman tried to poison me there. She was mouthing off about Vinnie being her husband. I was worried she would target him next, so when you didn’t return from your meeting, I went back to the club and camped out. I just didn’t realize the woman was Irene Landi. She looked nothing like the images on the internet.”

  “That’s because she’s had plastic surgery, and it’s lucky you were there, otherwise she’d have Vinnie now.” His normally harsh expression softened. “Grazie, I’m very grateful for what you did.”

  “No need to thank me. I’d do anything for Vinnie.”

  He nodded, his expression knowing, but he refrained from stating the obvious. Everyone knew she had a thing for Vinnie. It was impossible to hide.

  “By the way, how are you feeling?” he asked, glancing down at her bandaged arm.

  “Not a thing. I’m hopped on so much pain relief you could punch me in the face and I wouldn’t feel it. Anyway, can I see Vinnie?”

  “Sure. Follow me.”

  The Don guided her through the lounge and into the foyer, the chandelier’s lights reflecting off the marble floor. They descended the stairs that led to the cells, one of the thick wooden doors wide open. The soldier, who’d carried Vinnie’s guitar and amp into the cell, nodded respectfully at the Don as they passed. The Don gave him a curt nod in return, then entered the cell.

  D followed him in, finding Vinnie lying unconscious on a single bed, with a blanket pulled up to his bare chest. “This is so fucking unfair,” she said, her gaze moving to the Don. “Can’t you find another way to keep him in the compound?”

  “I’ve already gone over this with Dominic and he agreed it’s the safest option. And if you want to get Vinnie out faster, help Dominic find Irene and eliminate her.”

  D grimaced. “I already plan on smoking that Landi bitch. I’m going to get my sisterhood to help me.”

  “Bene. Though, I’ve just found out some unfortunate news about the Landi.”

  “What?”

  “A few minutes ago one of my spies phoned me, mentioning that the Black Russian is thinking about aligning with them.”

  D grimaced. “He’s probably doing it because he’s pissed off with you for helping me and my sisterhood.”

  “Which is why I need to go see him. I have to calm the waters between us.”

  “I thought Brando and Jagger were supposed to do that.”

  “Brando’s headaches have become too severe to travel, while I’ve forbidden Jagger from going.”

  “Why? The Black Russian thinks he’s great. Jagger could get us a truce.”

  “No, all he’ll get is fucked. Jagger admitted to Dominic that the Black Russian is trying to blackmail him into having sex with him.”

  D grimaced. “The creepy bastard.”

  “Which is why it’s best I go. He doesn’t like me that way—or any way. We don’t get along.”

  “Then you definitely shouldn’t go. You’ll probably do more harm than good, especially with your temper.” She pulled a face, hoping he didn’t take offense. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

  “I know. It’s why my brothers usually deal with the freak.” He glanced down at Vinnie. “Maybe Dominic could go with a contingent of soldiers. It’ll get him away from Vinnie, because if he stays here, I’m sure he’ll buckle and let Vinnie out.” His gaze moved to D. “While you and the other Vipers can find Irene and eliminate her.”

  D frowned. “I don’t like the idea of Dom seeing the Black Russian.”

  “The Black Russian likes pretty boys, not to mention Dominic’s pansexual and will fuck anything. Maybe he could—”

  “Are you seriously saying what I think you are?”

  “He’s done some honey-trap work before. I’m sure he could seduce the Black Russian if I asked him to.”

  D grimaced. “Don’t do that to Dom. The Black Russian is extremely perverted.”

  “Dominic is too. You never know, the two might hit it off, and if he gets that psychotic freak off our backs, we’ll only have the Landi to worry about.”

  D stared at him for a moment, then nodded her head. “I guess it could work. Just get him to clean himself up. The Black Russian won’t like his grunge look. Get him to dress more like Vinnie. The Black Russian loves men in leathers.”

  The Don pulled a face, looking disgusted. “I’ll talk to Dominic about it, and grazie for your advice.”

  D nodded. “You’re welcome. I’d also suggest you reach out to the Spinelli family just in case Dominic returns with bad news. They hate the Black Russian with a passion and will help anyone to take him down—with the exception of my sisterhood. Since we used to work for him they refused to align with us. They thought we were trying to trick them. But they would trust you.”

  “The Spinelli aren’t fighters, they’re rescuers.”

  D shook her head. “That’s what they want everyone to think. They’re an insidious bunch, infiltrating everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the ministers in parliament are Spinelli informants. They’re building up to be massive, even big enough to take the Black Russian down. When you kill a Spinelli their whole family will come after you, and they want the Black Russian with a vengeance for what he did to a few of them. It’s why he has so many guards and assassins working for him. They’re protecting him from the Spinelli. And once the Spinelli reach full power, not only will the Black Russian need to watch his back, your family will too. But if you get on their good side, you’ll have their protection for life. They’re an extremely loyal bunch.”

  “You’re fucking me?”

  She shook her head. “You should link with them as soon as possible, even consider marrying one of them.”

  “I already have a partner and I’m not about to give her up for anyone.”

  “Then one of your siblings, but whatever you do, do it soon. It’s a matter of life and death, because if Dom fails, and the Landi and the Black Russian become allies, your family will either be dead or enslaved by the end of the year.”

  The Don grimaced. “I’ll have a meeting with my mother. She’s the one who knows about arranged marriages. Anyway, we should go before Vinnie wakes up. He’s going to be livid.”

  “Just give me a second longer with him.”

  The Don nodded, his expression again knowing. He exited the cell, leaving her alone with Vinnie.

  She turned back to Vinnie, wishing for something she couldn’t have: his love. “I’m going to find Irene and kill her for you. I promise it.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead, then pushed up and headed for the door.

  “What the fuck?” Vinnie said.

  She spun around. Vinnie was sitting up, his stunned gaze moving around the room. “Why the hell am I in a cell?” he yelled, his blue eyes stopping on her.

  She backed out of the room. “To keep you safe.”

  His eyes widened. A second later, he propelled off the bed, running for the exit. But she moved faster. She slammed the door shut and slid the bolt across.

  He
bashed into the door. “Let me out!”

  She looked through the window, upset over his distraught expression.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” he yelled.

  “Because we want you safe.”

  “Liar! You’re doing it because I turned you down.”

  “No, your Don gave the order.”

  He started shaking his head, probably not believing his own brother would imprison him.

  “He wants to protect you from Irene.”

  His expression turned vicious. “I heard what you said, and you’re not to kill her. She’s mine. I’m going to fuck her up so badly she’s going to regret the day she touched me. I’m going to make her scream and beg for mercy, dragging it out for days, then I will slit her throat like she slit Gemma’s. And if you don’t free me, I’ll fuck you over too!”

  She shook her head, his words cutting her. She knew he didn’t care about her, but to hear it still hurt. “I can’t let you out.”

  His angry expression disappeared, a pleading one replacing it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You know I wouldn’t hurt you. Just let me out. I’ll do whatever you want.” His voice lowered to a sexy rumble. “Anything.”

  “You’re lying, Vinnie,” she croaked out, wishing he meant it. “If I free you, you’ll make a run for it.”

  “I won’t. You know I love going down on you.” He licked his lips, the gesture calculated. He was trying to use her desire against her, but again, she knew it was a lie, no matter how much she didn’t want it to be.

  “I still can’t let you out,” she replied.

  “I thought you wanted me?”

  “I do, but you don’t want me.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I wish I was, but I’m not.”

  He grabbed onto the window bars, fear coloring his eyes. “You can’t leave me in here.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Full blown panic crossed his face. He let go of the bars and bashed into the door, making it shake. “Let me out!” He bashed into it again and again, yelling and begging her, promising anything and everything.

  Unable to handle it anymore, she spun around and ran up the stairs, Vinnie’s agonized voice tearing her apart.

  Irene

  Irene took the binoculars off the fat soldier and peered through them, focusing on the Santini house. The cream-colored building looked like a palace, with columns, archways, and a look-out tower. It sat on an expansive property that overlooked the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

  “When did you see them take Vincenzo in?” she asked Miko, who was lying next to her.

  “Yesterday,” Miko replied, the man sweating buckets. She never understood why he wore suits too hot for the climate.

  “Then call my uncle. We need to have another meeting with the Black Russian. I want to combine forces sooner rather than later. We have to strike quick before the Santini have a chance to make new alliances.”

  “But we should recuperate more. The Santini wiped out a lot of us.”

  “All the more reason we need the Black Russian’s help. We’ll promise him the Santini and Vipers’ heads if he gives us his support. The monster will love that.”

  “Even Vinnie’s twin?”

  She shook her head. “The Santini Don is planning on sending him to Russia. He wants Dominic to seduce the Black Russian into aligning with them.”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “Bernardo put a bug into Vincenzo’s pocket because he wasn’t sure if we were going to make it out of H20 with him.” She smiled. “And when I give the Black Russian the recording, things won’t go so well for Dominic.” Her smile widened. She was looking forward to getting rid of Vincenzo’s brother, because there was no way she would allow Dominic to stand in her way ever again. Vincenzo was hers—for better or worse, in sickness and health, “Until death do us part,” she muttered.

  About the Author

  Marita A. Hansen is from New Zealand. She previously worked as an artist, but gave it up for writing. The two main genres she writes about are New Zealand Street Lit and Mafia books. All her mafia stories are interconnected, with many of the characters jumping between her different series: My Masters’ Nightmare, The Santini Brothers, The Five Families, and Lovers & Sinners.

  Apart from writing, she loves watching and participating in soccer/football, and has coached for a number of years. For more information on Marita check out these links:

  Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Marita-A-Hansen/113130742120676

  Blog Site:

  http://maritaahansen.blogspot.co.nz/

  Goodreads:

  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5129673.Marita_A_Hansen

  Artslant Page:

  http://www.artslant.com/global/artists/show/74433-marita-hansen

  Twitter:

  http://www.twitter.com/MaritaAHansen

  One Shot

  Mia Hoddell

  An Ultimate Betrayal Prequel Novella

  Nico

  I’ve killed. Countless people have died from my over-eager trigger finger, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Some accepted their fate with dignity, yet most turned into a blubbering wreck, begging for a second chance.

  Tens.

  Hundreds.

  Thousands.

  Well, maybe not thousands, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if I was closing in on that milestone too. I’d transformed full-grown men into incoherent pussies. They reminded me of their wives, their children, or other loved ones. They pleaded to be spared for the sake of their family…like it would make me give a shit.

  It was always the same.

  Honestly, if one of them could come up with an original line, I may have been tempted to save them.

  Probably not, though. There were never second chances in my line of work. You fucked up, you paid for it with your life. No matter who you left behind, there were no loose ends.

  Ever.

  And I was the guy for the job.

  I had been bred for assassinating those who got in my way, and my family’s way. It was in my blood, deeply rooted in my DNA.

  I’d long since stopped counting the number of dead bodies I’d amassed. Each one was only another insignificant notch on a tally. They weren’t worthy of being counted. The fucking bastards who dared to cross any Salvato deserved to die, and I was only too happy to be the one to look them dead in their fearful eyes, raise my gun to their head, and fire.

  It was always quick.

  A clean shot.

  Clinical.

  When emotions became involved, things got messy. It was a job and one that had desensitised me.

  At least I thought it had.

  I never expected for her to be tied up on her knees in front of me. The gritty concrete cut into her skin and the rope around her wrists bit into them, rubbing them raw until they matched the single, fiery red streak in her chestnut hair. Even at my feet she looked strong—stronger than any of the men. Her almost amber eyes glared at me with a burning intensity. They held a silent challenge to pull the trigger. It wasn’t a plea, it was a dare, and I knew I should.

  She was an Aletti and I was a Salvato, after all.

  Our families didn’t mix. We were rivals in an endless turf war, each fighting for control of the territory. That made her the enemy, and normally I’d jump at the chance to kill any one of the leeches. To eradicate the Aletti mob princess should have been an honour. I should have wanted to mount her head on the freaking wall like a trophy and send the rest of her body back to her father.

  It was the ultimate prize.

  The problem was I couldn’t. My gun wavered in my hands as I raised it to point at her petite body. Moving it up over her breasts, my gaze lingered on her ample cleavage until it was drawn to her olive-toned face.

  “Do it,” she sneered, jeering for me to end her life.

  It was easy to be confident when she had the upper hand and knew it.

  Taking a
deep breath I attempted to quell the tremors. That wasn’t me. I didn’t shake…I didn’t feel.

  My gun lined with her forehead and she didn’t even flinch. She held my gaze with a steely one of her own, a spark of betrayal swirling in the golden orbs.

  “Go on. What are you waiting for?”

  I placed my finger on the trigger.

  Close your eyes, take a deep breath, plant your feet into the ground, open your eyes, exhale, and fire. Don’t think about who she is or what she means. Ignore the emotions swimming in her eyes. She’s just like all of the others.

  But she wasn’t. Regardless of my tally, I’d never once raised my hand to a woman, let alone shot one. Could I really start with the one I loved?

  “I said pull the fucking trigger, Salvato!”

  This wasn’t a game anymore. I stood to lose, and I stood to lose big.

  “You’re weak. You’re a worthless traitor. How does it feel betraying someone who gave you their heart? Who trusted you?” She spat at my feet. “Pull the goddamned trigger or give me the gun and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  I locked my emotions deep within me, barricading them in the bottomless cavern inside my chest where my heart should have sat. “How about a blowjob first? For old time’s sake.”

  Her nostrils flared and she spat at my feet again. The ball of saliva landed on my black, polished boot this time.

  “Fuck you.”

  “You already have, sweetheart. Numerous times. That why you’re in this shit.”

  She didn’t even bat an eyelid. “Do you torment all of your victims this way? Is that what gets you off at night—what you’re thinking about when you’re jerking off? Will you think of my pretty face, lifeless, tonight and cry out my name?”

  I began lowering the barrel, dipping it to her chest.

  “You’re not going to do it, are you?” she asked.

 

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