Men of Mayhem

by Anthology

“Are you sure you have to do this? Can’t you find another way to pay me back?”

  I gave him my best pout and doe-eyed look. “But you said I could.”

  “I’m starting to regret that now. I should have taken out your right shoulder so you couldn’t do this.”

  When I’d come round and finally been able to work through the pain, I’d been furious. The pain only intensified my anger until the point Nico had come up with this insane idea to shut me up—I get to shoot him just like he did to me.

  “If I could take it, then I’m sure the infamous Nico Salvato can. Don’t be a fucking baby.”

  “Can you get this over with?”

  In response, I raised the barrel so it was in line with his shoulder. Nico held my gaze, not even blinking he was so still. He even went as far as holding his breath as he waited.

  I placed my finger on the trigger, but didn’t fire.

  Allowing the seconds to tick by, I waited for the burning in his lungs to become too much. It finally forced him to exhale and inhale deeply. He didn’t need to know I had no intention of shooting him. The mental torture gave me enough satisfaction.

  “Bri…” A bead of sweat started to form on his brow from standing in the sun. I would have liked to believe it was me causing it, but I knew better.

  I waited another minute, allowing the silence to drag on. When Nico opened his mouth to speak again, I lowered the gun, flicked the safety on, and placed it on the table next to me. He regarded me with confusion as I approached him. When I was within reaching distance, I wrapped my good arm around his neck, pressing my body flush against his.

  “What are you doing, princess?”

  “I can’t have you injured now, can I? You’re no use to me if you can’t perform.” I pushed my hips into his to emphasise my meaning. By the sizable bulge pressing back against me, I’d have said he understood.

  “So you’re not going to shoot me?” He dipped his head, bringing one hand up to cup my face. His thumb traced over my lip, his gaze intent on the line he drew as I parted them beneath his touch.

  “Not today. Although, if you call me princess again I may change my mind.”

  He chuckled, the sound vibrating through my chest and sending a jolt of electricity through my veins.

  “That was your only free pass and you wasted it, princess. We’re even now.”

  Before I could respond, his lips crushed against mine. His free hand moved to the small of my back and held me tightly against him before sliding to cup my ass. Lifting me up, my legs tightened around his waist as he carried me back inside.

  “Who said I need a free pass? You’re stuck with me now. There’s no going back for either of us in the middle of a war.”

  He laughed, his breath sweeping over my neck as he carried me up the stairs. Kicking open the door to our bedroom, he almost ran to the bed and threw me on to it.

  “I’ll just have to make sure I keep you happy then.” He prowled up the bed, his eyes dark with hunger. Nico didn’t need me to say anything else. He crushed his lips down to mine, his arm curling around my head and tangling in my hair. “And I never want to go back. You’re all I need and I’m not going to let them find us. I’ll do anything to protect you and keep you happy.”

  My heart fluttered, my stomach flipping with his words. Even if it was an idealistic statement and I knew somewhere in the near future we were going to have an impossible fight on our hands, I chose to ignore the threats. Instead, I dipped my hand between us to stroke Nico through his jeans. Holding his gaze with mine, I whispered, “Prove it.”

  A low growl came from the back of his throat. He brought his lips back to mine, pressing himself into my hand while moving to nip at my ear. “Whatever you want, princess.”

  About the Author

  #1 Amazon bestselling author Mia Hoddell lives in the UK with her family and two cats. She spends most of her time writing or reading, loves anything romantic, and has an overactive imagination that keeps her up until the early hours of the morning.

  Mia has written over ten titles including her Seasons of Change series, the Chequered Flag series, the Elemental Killers series, and her standalone novels False Finder and Not Enough.

  Her favourite genres are contemporary romance or romantic suspense, and with an ever growing list of ideas she is trying to keep up with the speed at which her imagination generates them. She also designs book covers on her website M Designs.

  To be continued in…

  One Chance (Ultimate Betrayal, #1)

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  For Cesare

  Soraya Naomi

  Present Day

  Cesare

  I make my way through the crowd in this palatial white mansion on the outskirts of East Hampton Village to greet my boss in the back of the sunken living room. The entire crew is here, including all the high ranking members of the New York Syndicate—Michael, the boss; me, the underboss; Luciano, the counselor and lawyer; and the captains, the Capi.

  Everyone’s in attendance with either his spouse or a date for the announcement of Michael’s wedding. My date is trailing behind me.

  “Michael,” I greet him, standing near the fireplace, and stop next to him.

  “We’re waiting for Joey,” Michael says, buttoning up his expensive, tailored suit, with his slender, blonde fiancée, Rachel, standing beside him.

  Suddenly, a prickling awareness raises the hairs on the back of my neck, and I turn my head to Joey as he approaches us.

  Behind him is his companion, and my blood turns ice-cold when I recognize the beauty in a skin tight blue dress with black hair just as dark as mine and ashy grey eyes.

  What the fuck is Kinsey doing here?

  She’s the last person I ever expected to see again. And she’s also the one person who’s never escaped my memory. But as underboss of the New York Syndicate, I must retain my composure.

  She’s looking around and smiling, and then her eyes widen when she sees me.

  I cock my head to her, and she freezes.

  It’s been five long years since I’ve seen her, and her presence affects me still. Time is suspended while emotions rage inside me.

  I grit my teeth, walking toward them. Holding my self-control is impossible as I’m reunited with my best and oldest friend. The girl I’ve known since I was twelve. The woman I’ve cursed as much as I’ve loved.

  Kinsey steps behind Joey while he’s in conversation with another man, and I grab her arm, towering over her with my six feet of height. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She tries to break free but sways and slurs, “Get your hands off me!”

  Is she drunk?

  After releasing her arm, I hiss, “You don’t belong here—”

  My rant is interrupted by a loud bang. Then shots ring out, and mayhem ensues. Ducking down, I snatch my Smith & Wesson from the back waistband of my pants where it’s hidden underneath my suit jacket. I pull Kinsey down with me, shielding her with my body while pushing her to hide behind the white leather sofa.

  People scream and dodge behind furniture while uninvited men barge inside Michael’s house, smoke and glass bursting around us as they recklessly spray the room with gunfire.

  Kinsey is hunched down beneath me, vibrating in shock as I cock my gun, peek over the couch, and fire. But shooting is proving to be difficult with our own people running around.

  “Cesare!” I hear a man calling me.

  I turn my head to the hall, and one of our soldiers slides an automatic weapon across the floor. Hurriedly, I snatch it up an
d fire a round.

  He then gives our other members new weapons, and bullets fly free while everything around us is in chaos. Smoke drifts before my eyes, and I keep covering Kinsey.

  Abruptly, I hear a loud roar and crane my neck to see Michael, kneeling and pressing his hand on his fiancée’s chest that’s covered in blood while my Capi kill two men as they cover him.

  “You stay here!” I order Kinsey.

  She lifts her head and nods unsteadily.

  Inching around the couch, I shoot two more attackers while spotting many dead bodies.

  “Stop. We’ve got them!” One of my soldiers shouts as the last shot rings out.

  Keeping my gun aimed, I rise while checking left and right. Blood covers the windows and floor tiles. Other members continue to target their weapons as we peruse the room.

  “Go check the other areas of the house,” I order four soldiers.

  Then I hurry to Michael, who’s sitting quietly on the floor with a dead Rachel in his lap.

  My gaze flies to the couch where Joey is now with Kinsey. Focusing is proving to be difficult when I want to smash him for touching her arm. But I have more important matters at hand.

  “Michael…” I crouch down, just as he explodes, his features set in a hard line.

  “What the fuck happened? Who were they? Lock this fucking place right now. No one leaves!” He rises and lifts Rachel onto the couch. “Look what they did! Are any of the attackers alive? I want one alive. Everyone to the living room!”

  I close the distance between us and touch his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Michael, but you need to get hold of yourself. Dobbiamo mantenere la calma.” We need to stay calm.

  Michael takes a deep breath, and I can see him struggling. We are the boss and underboss and must always remain in control in front of our men.

  “How the hell did they get in, get past my security? We must have a spy. Who’s new here? If you brought someone besides your spouse, line them up against the back wall for questioning,” Michael commands.

  Following Michael’s orders, all of our unmarried members line up their dates, but as I inspect the carnage for mine, I see her dead on the floor.

  Meanwhile, Michael scrutinizes each face, and one by one, asks questions to trembling women. The fifth woman is Kinsey.

  “You walked in just before we were attacked. Who are you?” Michael demands.

  Kinsey’s the only one who answers with bite. “Kinsey. I came with Joey.” And she looks at him, then at me.

  “How do you know her, Joey?”

  “She’s a friend.”

  Kinsey and I stare at one another because I’m simply unable to look away.

  “Do you two know each other?” Michael asks, his gaze landing on me.

  “Yes,” I answer as I’m bombarded with fifteen years’ worth of memories.

  I’ve known her since I was twelve. I know her better than she knows herself.

  Fifteen Years Ago ~ Age Twelve

  Cesare

  “She’s pretty!” Tony says, strolling beside me down the hall after class.

  We pass the blonde in question, who smiles sweetly at me. And I elbow Tony while he gawks at her, so he playfully shoves me to the side.

  “Watch it!”

  I barrel into a girl who’s standing in front of her locker.

  “Sorry.” I step back hurriedly. Because she’s so small, I’m afraid I’ve crushed her.

  She scowls at me, then continues putting her books into her backpack.

  I turn and move to catch up with Tony, who’s reached the front entrance of the school, when I hear her mutter, “Asshole.”

  So I spin back around. “I said I was sorry.”

  She gives me a sidelong glance. “Fine, Cesare.”

  For a second, I’m amazed. This girl, whose name I don’t even know, is the first person who’s ever pronounced my name right. Tjezaray, not Ceezar.

  “Hey, you got my name right!”

  “Well, yes, I do know my history.”

  “What?” I have no idea what she’s talking about, and apparently, that’s written all over my face.

  “Cesare Borgia? Don’t you know the origin of your name?” she asks as if I’m the dumbest boy in school.

  “Um, no.”

  “Cesare Borgia was the illegitimate son of Pope Alexander VI and supposedly had an affair with his own sister.” She slams the locker door closed and walks off.

  “Really?” Wow, I never expected her to say that, and I decide to go after her. “What’s your name?”

  “Kinsey,” she says while pushing through the door and hurrying away.

  Outside, instead of catching up with Tony, I continue to follow her to a secluded area of the park where she flops onto the grass with a book.

  Without giving it a second thought, I approach her. “What are you reading?”

  Startled, she whips her head around and then demands, disbelievingly, “Did you follow me?”

  “Yes. What are you reading?”

  “Nothing.” She tries to snatch it closed, but I bend down and seize it from her grip.

  I make a face as I read the title out loud. “Renaissance…Oh God, you’re boring.”

  “If I’m so boring, then what are you doing here? Give it back!”

  “Okay, okay…I’m sorry! I didn’t really mean that you were boring,” I concede.

  She glares at me as I throw my backpack onto the grass and sit down next to her.

  “Tell me more about Cesare, Kinsey.” Her story has me curious.

  She gives me a doubtful look. “You want to know?”

  “Well, he sleeps with his sister. That’s a dirty story!”

  She giggles and relaxes a bit. Her smile brings my attention to her pretty face.

  “Do you want to hear the decent or the twisted?” she asks with a playful grin.

  “Hmmm…the twisted.” I smile and wink at her.

  And in the next couple of hours, Kinsey teaches me more useless facts about the Renaissance than any other boy my age will ever know. Time passes as we chat and laugh. She’s really cool but seems a bit sad.

  I study her as we lie on our backs. “Why do you come here alone?”

  She sighs, and just when I think she isn’t going to answer, she speaks. “Because my father is home. And he’s always high on drugs.”

  “Oh. And your mom?”

  “She left a long time ago.”

  “Oh.”

  We sit in silence, watching the clouds drift above us.

  “Want to come to my house for supper?” I ask, knowing my mother never minds if I bring a friend home since she always cooks too much food.

  “Okay.”

  And that’s how our friendship started. Kinsey had a strange fascination with random historical facts, and she was amusing to be around, unlike the Italian girls I’d grown up with. But being friends with a girl proved to be difficult in the coming years.

  Present Day

  Kinsey

  “Do you two know each other?” The Italian man named Michael demands to know.

  “Yes,” Cesare replies as his caramel eyes pierce through me.

  All these men are in designer suits similar to Cesare’s. Add that to the shooting and the method of questioning, and I know exactly where I am—with the New York Syndicate.

  Cesare and Michael radiate authority, and every woman around me is shivering in terror. My surroundings seem unreal as the stench of blood and gunpowder infuses the air.

  “How?” Michael barks.

  “She’s my Kinsey,” Cesare explains.

  So, Cesare has talked about me to Michael?

  “And, Joey, how do you know her?” Michael settles his scowl on him.

  “We met at a café a couple of days ago.”

  Cesare rakes his dark, wavy hair back with an obviously frustrated swipe of his hand.

  I can’t seem to tear my gaze from him, and my heart hurts to see him after so long. In his tailored suit that doesn’t hide his m
uscular physique, he’s no longer the boy I loved. And he’s grown more handsome with age. Though, with his beard and strands of longer hair that end just below his ear, he seems harsher as well. Yet, he’s still as enticing as ever. I’d resigned myself to the idea of never seeing him again and am completely blindsided.

  “I need to talk to Kinsey,” Cesare announces and hauls me by my upper arm to the hallway and into the first bedroom.

  Still slightly intoxicated, I’m finally catching up to the fact that I’m in serious trouble.

  “So, you’re fucking my Capo?” Cesare hisses.

  The hostility vibrating off him is excruciatingly palpable. Nonetheless, apart from fear, I feel a rising strength. After five years, he can’t even manage a hello?

  “That’s none of your business.”

  He takes a menacing step closer. “It became my business when you came to this party.”

  I try to get my bearings, but having him this close is wreaking havoc on my brain. His familiar ocean cologne brings back memories better left in some distant, dusty corner of my mind.

  “Jesus Christ, Kins! What are you doing here?” he stresses.

  “I-I…shit! I’m just friends with Joey, and he invited me to this…” I wave my hand around. “…this massacre.”

  “How did you meet Joey?”

  “In a café. Cesare…”

  When I say his name out loud, it’s as if we finally realize that we’re really, truly standing in front of each other. Cesare edges closer, his breath fans my cheek, and my hand rests on his chest of its own volition. In reaction, he covers my palm with his, and electricity pulses from the heat of his skin.

  “Kins…” he whispers in an anguished tone and braces my neck, pulling me to him.

  I inhale sharply as he nuzzles me, just like he used to. And it causes the reality of how I ache from his absence in my life to rise to the surface. My entire body is drawn to him as if time hasn’t altered our feelings.

  I remember the words he said to me so many years ago—I’ll take care of you now.