Taken for His Own: An Arranged Marriage Dark Mafia Romance (The Torenti Family Book 3)

by Mae Doyle

  Everyone turns to leave, and Pops follows me to my truck.

  “What’s the word?” I ask him as I drive down main street. It’s quiet, most of the people in town staying away from the sight of a huge bomb going off. We’re headed towards the bar, but even if I didn’t know where it was, I’d be able to follow the lights and sirens.

  Pops doesn’t answer for a moment, and it’s not until I look over at him that he sighs. “We’ve got to make sure that Lucia stays safe through all of this. You…that’s your job, Enzo. I don’t know how bad it’s going to get or how quickly we can put these assholes down like the feral dogs that they are, but my niece?”

  “She’s special,” I finish for him, and he nods. “She’s something else, and you promised your brother that you would take care of her, so you don’t feel like you have a choice.”

  “Fuck, even if I hadn’t promised the dead bastard, I still wouldn’t want anything to happen to her. Lucia’s a good girl, but she’s stupid for thinking that she can handle her last name on her own. Growing up as a Hall was a smart idea, but it’s just not enough. Not now. Not when they know who she is and we don’t fucking have a clue who they are. And becoming prosecution? Fucking stupid. I’m sure that she’s pissed off her fair share of assholes who would love to teach her a lesson.” He’s silent for a moment and then slams his fist on the dash. “Fuck!”

  I park as close as possible to the bar and we slip under police tape. Nobody tries to stop us. Even if they aren’t on our payroll, all of the cops here know who we are. They’d be stupid not to. Nobody crosses the Torenti family, even if they wear a badge.

  “What the fuck happened here?” Pops asks, turning his gaze on a detective. The detective looks exhausted but stands up a little straight under Pops’ gaze.

  “Bomb, it looks like. I’m not sure if they were trying to play it off as a gas leak, or what, but it’s all shot to hell. Took out the businesses on both sides, too. Insurance is going to be a nightmare, but at least we can tell that it was an attack and not just personal negligence.”

  I raise an eyebrow at the detective. He obviously has no idea how hard Pops works to vet all of his staff at the bar. If anyone ever did anything to fuck with the family then it would be their family at risk.

  Pops nods. “When will we get the report back? And will you be pursuing this or is it something for us to handle on our own?”

  The detective pauses, and it’s obvious that he’s trying to weigh the benefits of getting the Torenti family involved and walking away from the problem versus trying to handle it on his own.

  “Come with me,” he says, after a moment, and Pops and I walk around the charred hull of the bar. Fuck, whoever did this really knew what they were doing. The entire building is destroyed, all the way down to the bar stools. Even though we shouldn’t be able to see into the kitchen, the wall was obliterated. There are some charred remains of kitchen equipment in there, but nothing that will be salvageable.

  “You can decide,” the detective says, once we’re out of earshot of all of the other officers. “Brass wants me to bring in an explosives expert, but something tells me that you already know who did this. We can make it go away, label it as a gas fire, whatever you want.” He pauses, and I know exactly what he’s going to say. “For a fee.”

  “A fee.” Pops’ voice is level and calm, but the detective swallows hard, like he knows that he just crossed a line. “You want to work for us now?”

  “Um, I really would rather not be involved at all. I’m supposed to be off this weekend, but schedules got fucked, and – ”

  I cut him off. “But you’re not off, are you? You’re here, and so are we, and now we need to know exactly how you want to play this game. Do you want to turn it over to us so that you can have a drink and fuck the missus or would you rather be out here all day long figuring it out yourself?”

  It’s an easy answer.

  “No fee,” the detective says, like it’s some magnanimous fucking gift he’s giving us. “Just know that I’m so sorry about the gas leak. I hope that insurance will cover everything for you.”

  “Gas leak. That’s the official word?” Pops holds out his hand for the detective to shake.

  “It is.” He looks a little pained, but the detective shakes Pops’ hand and then turns to me. “Good luck finding out how the gas leak started. I’m sure that you will want to take care of it so that you never have to deal with the same problem again.”

  Motherfucker is just digging for answers or information, but he’s nuts if he thinks that he’s going to get any of those from us. I clap my hand onto his and squeeze him tight so that he can’t get away.

  “If there’s ever any suspicion that this wasn’t a gas leak, then I need you to know that we’ll come looking for you,” I glance down at his nametag, “Detective Perry. You don’t want to have a visit from our family in the middle of the night, right?”

  “Not at all.” Detective Perry manages to stay calm, but I can tell from the way that his face pales that he’s ready to be free from us. “We’ll get out of your hair here. I’m sure that you can handle it all.”

  Pops and I are silent as he walks back to the officers. He waves his hand in the air and calls out, and a moment later, the crowd starts to disperse. Good. We want them gone as quickly as possible. There’s nothing worse than fucking pigs everywhere when you’re trying to get your job done.

  The last car pulls away from the curb, sirens off, before Pops speaks.

  “Check in with my sons. Find out what they know and then give me the information. I want this wrapped up as quickly as possible so that I can be sure Lucia is safe.” He turns to walk away but then turns back to me. “Where is she?”

  “At my home. Under guard. I told her that if she left the house, if she so much as poked her head out of the door, that she’d be dead.”

  He nods. “She believed you?”

  “Fucking hell, I hope so,” I tell him. “But yeah, she was pretty spooked when I left.”

  “Good. I want her alive. She’s all that I have left of my brother.” Pops pauses for a moment, shaking his head.

  “I never wanted it to go like this. I would have done anything possible to keep her safe, and then these assholes had to ruin it. Just keep her safe, Enzo. I trust you. You’re like a son to me, you understand?”

  I do, but that doesn’t relieve any of the pressure on me. I nod at him and he walks ahead of me to the car. Before I follow him, I pull out my phone to fire off a quick text to the guards, just to make sure that Lucia hasn’t done anything that we’re all going to regret.

  Chapter 17

  Lucia

  It’s been all day, and Enzo still isn’t back. So far, I’ve eaten him out of house and home, had a luxurious bath, played with the dogs, and watched some really crappy TV. If he doesn’t get back soon then both Mack and Frank are going to revolt and demand to go outside, and I’m not really keen on having my head blown off.

  Then again, whenever I look out the window, it’s not like I can see anyone out there waiting to shoot me. I’m almost tempted to take my chance, just hoping that he didn’t really leave anyone out there to watch me.

  Then again, he hasn’t said or done anything that would make me not believe him. Enzo is…well, he’s honest, apparently, and entrenched in the Torenti family.

  As much as I want to think that I could just waltz out of here without any repercussions, I think that it’s stupid for me to think that that’s even a possibility. Even though I can’t see them, I’m fairly certain that they can see me, and that’s not a good thing.

  I’m washing my afternoon snack dishes in the kitchen when something outside the window catches my eye. Slowly, without taking my gaze away from the yard, I turn off the water and dry my hands. My mouth grows dry and I feel a pounding in my chest.

  Something’s out there. I can only hope that it’s an animal and not someone who has decided to come by and pay me a little visit while I’m sitting in here without any
way to protect myself.

  Oh, yeah, because of course, I dug through his drawers. Closets. Under the bed. No gun, no nothing. There are some sharp kitchen knives in a knife block by the stove, and I’m going to grab one of those as soon as I turn around.

  But right now, I’m glued to the window.

  Is it a person? It looks like a big black dog, but I know that Frank is in the house with me. As I watch, it stands up and runs across the yard to a huge tree.

  Yep. Definitely a person. It ran on two legs and is now hiding behind the tree, just twenty yards from the house. My palms are suddenly clammy and I feel a rush of adrenaline spike through me. Of course, this would happen when I was left here all by myself.

  Fuck, I wish Enzo were here.

  The through runs through my mind, unbidden, but I’m not going to take time to dwell on it. Sure, I wish Enzo were here because it would mean that he could protect me, but part of me wishes he were here for other reasons.

  The person peeks out from behind the tree, their face turning slowly as they scan the house and I drop down to the kitchen floor. I don’t think that they saw me, but I don’t know for sure. My heart hurts, it’s pounding so hard in my chest, and I crawl across the floor to the stove before sitting up just enough to reach up and grab a knife.

  It’s a long butcher’s knife, and I grip the handle tight in my clammy hand, holding it to my chest before I sneak across the floor to press my back up against the island. This way, even if the person looks in the window, there’s no way that they can see me.

  But where the fuck are the guards? I believed Enzo that they were out there, waiting to put a bullet in me if I did anything stupid, but now I’m starting to wonder if that was a lie. Shouldn’t they have noticed someone sneaking up on the house by now?

  Fuck. I honestly don’t know what to do.

  There’s a scratching at the window and I bite my lower lip so hard that I taste blood, but I don’t turn around. I don’t sit up to look and see who’s trying to get in the window. It sounds like they’re testing it, but I went around the house after Enzo left, and everything was locked tight.

  The scratching stops, but my heart is still beating as hard and wildly as before. “Fuck,” I whisper to myself, my eyes scanning the room as I think about what I should do next. From here, it’s easy to walk into the living room, and that space has multiple huge windows.

  There’s no way that I can get through the living room and down the hall to the bedroom or bathroom to hide without them being able to see me on the move. I think that my best bet is to sit tight and try not to panic.

  Right?

  I’m not sure. Someone’s on the porch. I hear a step creak as they walk up it, but that doesn’t seem to slow them down. My body is screaming at me to run and hide, or at least to take a look into the living room to see what’s happening, but there’s no way that I can let myself do that.

  Not if I want to live.

  The dogs go batshit. Both Mack and Frank throw themselves at the front door, teeth bared, slobber flying everywhere. They’d been sound asleep up to a few minutes ago when the shit hit the fan and now they’re out for blood.

  They could protect me, right? A shot flies through the door, splintering the wood, hitting Frank in the shoulder. He yelps and falls down to the ground, blood quickly pooling around his body.

  I throw my hands over my mouth to try to stifle a scream. Who the fuck shoots a dog? I have to get out of here. I have to save myself, even though that means that I need to leave Mack behind, and that hurts.

  Okay, think. I’m great when I’m faced with important decisions that need to be made quickly at work, and this really shouldn’t be any different. I just have to figure out what I’m going to do.

  I’m going to get out of here. Obviously, Enzo was lying about having guards around the house, or they would have seen the asshole trying to get in by now and taken care of it. Part of me is pissed that he lied to me, but the other part just wants the fuck out of the house.

  The living room is out. The bedroom and bathroom are both out. My only hope is the small window above the kitchen sink.

  Staying low to the floor and avoiding the door to the living room, I scoot back around the island and look up at the window. It’s small, sure, but I’m fairly petite, so I can’t see that it will be much of an issue for me to squeeze through it.

  The tapping from the living room picks up again, and I wonder why the hell he hasn’t just broken a window.

  Maybe Enzo has a security system. Maybe this is a very kind and thoughtful murderer. That thought makes me chuckle and I put the knife on the counter before standing up and unlocking the window. I’m going to have to climb onto the counter, balance over the sink, slip through the window, and fall to the ground without attracting attention.

  The door handle rattles and suddenly something slams into it.

  It has to be a boot.

  That motherfucker is trying to kick down the door. For just an instant, I debate grabbing my knife and meeting him as he comes into the house, but I push that thought away as quickly as possible. There’s no way that I could actually stab someone.

  Besides, you don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. Everyone knows that.

  The window slides up without a sound. My heart is still pounding in my chest, but the only noise I hear is the front door behind kicked. He’s about to break it down, and I better be a long fucking way away by the time that happens.

  Taking a deep breath, I climb up onto the counter and then slide over so that I’m balanced over the sink. I have to twist my body so that I can try to go out feet first, and it’s tricky for me to do that with the soap in the way. Frustrated, I knock it into the sink.

  As if by magic, the pounding on the door stops. Mack steps back from it, fur still hackled, and growls.

  Fucking hell. They heard me make a noise in the kitchen? Does that mean that they’re going to come back around the house looking for me? I hesitate, unsure of what I should do. Do I run? Do I stay?

  “Fuck it,” I say to myself and kick my legs out the window. I can’t see if anyone comes around the house now, which means that this person could easily shoot me as I hung here and I’d never see it coming, but I don’t think that I have a choice. My feet dangle a long way from the ground and I push myself back with a grunt.

  The faucet catches my shirt and I have to fumble with it for a moment before I finally work myself free and I fall to the ground with a loud thud.

  Fuck, my ankle hurts. It’s throbbing, and I definitely scraped my hands on the brick exterior of the home on my way down, but I push myself to my feet as fast as possible so that I can start running. I feel my ankle give way as soon as I try to put pressure on it, and I fall back to the ground, my ass hitting the dirt.

  “Dammit!” I cry out, twisting so that I can look at my ankle. It’s not swollen – yet – but I have no doubt that it’s going to be a nightmare later, especially if I try to put more weight on it. The worst thing that I can do right now is try to run on it, but that’s really my only option.

  “That was easier than I thought it would be.” The voice above me is slow and angry sounding, and I swallow hard before I look up. “I didn’t think that you’d be so stupid, but you made it easier than I could have asked for, you know that?”

  I don’t know the man standing above me, and from the way he’s looking at me, I can tell that I don’t want to know him.

  He’s tall, tall enough to block out the setting sun, and has a dark look on his face. His long blonde hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and I have to stifle I laugh when I realize that he looks like a dirty hippie, not some terrifying mafia man who is out to kill me.

  “Something funny, princess?” He asks, reaching down and grabbing me by the arm. His hand is like a vice on my arm as he pulls to me to my feet, and I cry out when I put weight on my ankle.

  Yeah, I should be icing it right now, not walking on it, but the look on this guy’s face tells me that I don�
�t have a choice in the matter. If I want to survive and not die right here and now then I better do what he wants, and that’s to get up and walk with him.

  “It’s been a long couple of days,” I tell him, and he grunts as he yanks me away from the house. “Where are we going?” Sweat breaks out on my brow as I try to keep up with him. I’m hopping along, wishing that I didn’t have to lean on him for balance, but knowing full well that I’m going to fall and smack my face on the ground if I don’t rely on him a little.

  Pisses me off.

  “They want to see you,” he says, turning to look at me. “But I don’t see that there’s much for them to look at.”

  I can’t help it. I flush bright red and have to bite back a retort. This guy is a grade-A asshole, there’s no doubt of that, no matter if he looks like a friendly little hippie or not. I have no idea who he works for, or what this could be tied to, but I’m pretty sure that if I don’t hop along with him, I’m fucked.

  “And they couldn’t come to me? You know, people are going to be pissed when they find out that I’m gone.”

  “Those people?” He points casually to a truck that’s parked in the woods. There wasn’t any way that I could have seen it from the house, but I know right away that it’s my keepers that Enzo sent to watch me. Even from here, halfway across the giant lawn, I can see the blood splattering the inside of the windows.

  Fuck.

  “Not just them,” I say, trying to keep my balance. He jerks me hard and I almost fall, at least until I reach out to hold onto him.

  “Your little boyfriend, then? Don’t worry, we have stuff planned for him. And your uncle. And your cousins. And your aunt.”

  His words make my blood run cold. It’s one thing to think of him hurting my uncle or cousins, but Aunt Fia? Kind, gentle, soft aunt Fia who is such an amazing cook? I hardly know the woman, but he’s crossed the line.