Escaping Ryan (Genoa Mafia Series Book 2)

by Ginger Ring

  Escaping Ryan

  Genoa Mafia Series Book II

  By Ginger Ring

  Escaping Ryan

  Copyright © 2018 by Ginger Ring.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: January 2018

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-291-0

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-291-5

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

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  Prologue

  The Visitor

  The kid who’d been paid to remove the lightbulb as a prank had done well. A trailer at the edge of the woods was the target. Tracy Martin lived there. Who would think such a weak mannered girl would be a threat? Clouds in the late night sky made the home even harder to see. The person inside would soon be out like the light also. It was a message. They needed to stay out of the territory.

  Despite being careful, footsteps still made the old wood deck creak and moan. Raising a black gloved hand, the visitor knocked on the door. Applause from some game show on a television could be heard through the thin walls. It suddenly stopped, the person inside either turning it off or just lowering the volume. Stomps signaled someone was approaching.

  The front door opened. “Hi, come on in,” the young woman greeted, and pushed the screen door wide so they could step inside.

  She turned her back and the visitor followed.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” The woman slipped on a pair of high heels. “Do you want a drink before we go?”

  “Sure, why not.” Her invited guest shut the door and quietly locked it as Tracy grabbed a bottle from a kitchen cabinet near the sink. The house had an open floorplan with the kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one. A very small space where moving boxes littered the floor.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “A couple months.” She motioned to the mess. “But with work and everything, I just haven’t had a chance.” Her outreached hand held a drink. “Wow, you’re wearing gloves already?”

  “I haven’t gotten used to the cold yet.” The drink was now in hand but soon set on the counter.

  “It’s crazy how you adapt to the weather. In spring, it hits thirty-two degrees and we think it’s a heatwave. It drops to fifty in the fall and we have the gloves and coats on.”

  “Yes. So are you ready to go?”

  Tracy took a sip from her glass. “I thought you wanted a drink.”

  “I changed my mind. Since I’m driving, I’d better not risk it.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Probably a good idea.” Tracy set her glass on the counter. “Let me get a jacket.” She turned and her visitor struck. The prick of a needle hit the side of Tracy’s neck.

  “Ouch.” Her hand reached for the spot and was met by a syringe held by a gloved hand. “What the…? What are you doing?” she screamed, her mind not comprehending what was happening. The attacker wouldn’t let go until all of the drug was in. It was very powerful, so not much was needed.

  Tracy panicked. The fight or flight response kicked in. With labored breaths she fought back. With all her might she pushed back and shoved her assailant up against the counter and they grunted in pain. It was a brief victory.

  Tracy shivered as her body quickly chilled. She was nauseous. Whatever was in the needle was now flowing through her system with a vengeance. Her fingers shook. The room swam. Her assailant released her, but what good was it now. There was no victory to be had. The damage had been done. But why? Tears flowed from her eyes. Tracy staggered to the dining room table and slowly turned around.

  “What are you doing?” Her mouth felt like cotton. Her vision blurred.

  “You took something that I wanted.” The voice was unhuman.

  “What?” Her fading consciousness wrangled with why this was happening but no ideas came to mind. Suddenly, the room went black. She hit her head on the corner of the table as she wilted to the ground. There was a sickening thump as her body hit the cheap orange shag carpet covering the floor. Her hand made a feeble attempt to reach the bump that would soon form on the back of her head but it went limp.

  “You took something that I wanted. This is my territory. Not yours. Not anyone else’s either.” Tracy’s accoster tried to justify what they’d done. “Mine, not yours.” Dark eyes spied the couch. There was a pillow. It would be over soon. People needed to be warned, to be taught a lesson. As the pillow was laid over Tracy’s face, a smile lit up her killer’s face. One enemy down.

  Chapter One

  Valentina

  Valentina Caponelli cranked the radio up and sang a little louder. The headache she’d had earlier disappeared the minute she crossed the border into Wisconsin. Big city living had its advantages, but she’d missed the small town of Lake Genoa, or as the locals just called it, Genoa. She’d done what her father wished. Her law school diploma was proudly framed and sitting in a box in the backseat of the car.

  When you were born into a mafia family, you did what they expected you to do, whether you wanted to or not. Valentina excelled in school and therefore she was the one chosen to attend law school. It never hurt to have someone in the family who knew the ins and outs of the legal system, as well as what a person could and couldn’t get away with. When you did something you shouldn’t, they knew how to keep you from going to jail.

  The only problem was that her father didn’t want her to have other any other clients outside the family. That wouldn’t keep her very busy, and that was something she enjoyed doing—keeping busy. The more irons in the fire, the more Valentina excelled. The more she felt like her life had purpose and she wasn’t just the spoiled mafia princess everyone expected her to be. If law was her passion, that was yet to be discovered, but she was giving it a try.

  Her father also had the nerve to point out that she was getting a little long in the tooth and needed to find a man soon. Make that a nice Italian boy approved by him to marry. Give me a break. When did being in your mid-twenties make you an old maid? Screw the old ways. If she could be a female lawyer, why did she have to marry? Who had time to date anyway when you were studying twenty-four seven?

  She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and hummed along w
ith the latest Carrie Underwood song. No one would ever suspect her of being a country fan with her high heels, business suits, and her hair often in a chignon. People needed to see her as a professional, and wearing her thick dark hair long while sporting blue jeans and cowboy boots just didn’t cut it.

  All the cramming in law school had taken its toll on her eyes. Now sporting reading glasses on occasion, her serious look had become more matronly librarian than anything else. That wasn’t going to turn the heads of too many men.

  It was her father who had started her morning migraine and her sudden exodus from Chicago. If her older brother, Roman, could run parts of their father’s dealings from Genoa, so could she. Valentina had been away from her business, Firenza, for way too long and it was time to get back to doing something she enjoyed. Sure, law was easy and intriguing to her, but making that a success would be a huge undertaking.

  Firenza was an old lakeside mansion Roman bought for her to run as a restaurant in the summertime and event center year-round. While in Chicago, they’d hired a manager to oversee the place and her sister-in-law, Madison, also helped in her absence. It didn’t take her long to realize that she wanted to put her lawyer shingle out in Genoa to be close to Firenza. Heck, it was almost time for Firenza to host the Snowflake Ball again.

  Roman had met his wife at last year’s ball. Valentina sang along to the next tune thinking about her sibling and his lovely wife. It was hard to say which one she loved more. Madison may have been new to the family but she already felt like her sister. It had killed Valentina that she had to concentrate on the bar exam when she would’ve rather been more involved with the planning of their wedding.

  Actually, there hadn’t been too much to plan, it happened so fast. Still, it had been far too long since she’d gotten to spend time with either of them. Then again, maybe she didn’t want to. They were so much in love the two could barely keep their hands off each other. All she needed was a constant reminder that there was no man in her life, no one man enough to be in her life. What self-respecting, law-abiding man would date the daughter of Chicago’s biggest crime boss anyway?

  A big yawn escaped her lips. It had been a long day. Her morning discussion with her father and a late lunch with a friend had put her way behind on packing. And then there was the rush hour traffic. She wouldn’t miss that or the toll roads. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could ride a bike to work on the path that surrounded Lake Genoa? That brought out a giggle. She’d not ridden a bicycle in years. Could she do it in heels? Did many men in Genoa ride bikes, or were boats more their speed? Her brother was friends with one of the local motorcycle clubs, but even he would be enraged if she took up with a biker. Picturing herself as some biker dude’s old lady just didn’t fit. Even though they might be the only ones brave enough to take on her father. Tattoos weren’t her style either.

  Valentina felt hopeless. On one hand, she didn’t need a man in her life, but on the other, it was all she thought about. What would it be like to have someone to share her hopes and dreams with? Take vacations with or just stay home and watch football on the couch together? Finding a man to love her seemed almost as impossible as winning the lottery.

  Maybe she could change her name to Valentina Johnson. As if that would work. As soon as she brought the guy home to meet her parents, her secret would be exposed. She should have become a nun instead of a lawyer. Besides, no one would be able to meet her high standards anyway—he had to be perfect in her eyes. Placing her elbow on the armrest, she set her chin on her fist. Well, there was one man who fit the bill.

  Officer Ryan Donavan. Just the mention of his name made her knees weak and her feet wobble in their stilettos. Even as a kid she had a crush on him. They’d gone to the same high school in Chicago. Roman and he even played football together. The man probably still pictured her as the gangly, acne-faced teenager. Valentina took after her brother, tall and lean. That probably just added to the list of undesirable traits she had that men didn’t want in a woman. She was too smart, too skinny, and way too mafia.

  The October day had been cloudy so the darkness of evening came fast. As her car crossed the county line it was time to turn the lights on. At least it wasn’t rut season yet so there was no need to worry about randy bucks running across the road. Well, it could still happen, but it wasn’t as likely. Clicking between the bright and dimmer lights, there didn’t seem to be much difference. She’d have Arlo take a look when she got to her brother’s place. Arlo, Roman’s bodyguard slash driver slash Jack of all trades was pretty handy with cars. It was probably just a bulb out but one that would need to be fixed before she got a ticket or worse.

  A favorite song came on, the one with Miranda and Carrie singing that something bad was about to happen. With a sharpie in her hand as a pretend mic, she joined in the chorus. Her head bobbed with the beat and a few bobby pins went flying. Oh shit. Her eyes caught the reflection of a police car parked along the side of the road. In case she’d been speeding, she let her foot off the gas but didn’t hit the brake. No need to draw attention to herself by flashing her taillights. Tossing the marker to the side, Valentina took a deep breath and kept driving.

  She let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t follow. So far so good. Unfortunately, a mile down the road, bright lights flashed behind her. Cursing in two languages, she pulled over and parked. Despite the dusk, Valentina could tell that it was him in the rearview mirror, Ryan Donavan, the object of her teenage, and adult, dreams. It was hard not to admire the tall figure as he got out the car. The badge on his chest glimmered with the flashes of light from the emergency lightbar on the top of his squad car. His flashlight blinded her as he quickly glanced in the backseat of her car before settling it on her face.

  “Well, if it isn’t Valentina Caponelli.” He holstered his flashlight and leaned a forearm on the roof of her car. “You’re going a little fast, darling.” He’d never called her darling before, but who was she to argue with the law.

  “I didn’t think I was.” She batted her eyes and stuck her chest out. Hey, it worked in the movies. Officer Ryan, as she recalled, was addressed by everyone in Genoa by his first name and not the last. He took the bait and dropped his gaze to her breasts.

  His eyes were a deep blue and his dark hair was ruffled by the night air. Despite the cool breeze, he wore a short-sleeve shirt that showed off his muscles to perfection. She inhaled a combination of some evergreen inspired fragrance as well as coffee and leather.

  “Get out of the car.” He stepped back. She didn’t move. “Now.” His tone screamed he wasn’t messing around and that no was not an option.

  You would think that being from a family that didn’t respect the law, she’d dismiss him without a second thought, but the fact was, it turned her on.

  “Whatever you say, Ryan.” Valentina twisted in the seat and noticed that he glanced at her legs as she swiveled and stepped out of the vehicle.

  “It’s Officer Donavan to you.” Obviously, she wasn’t among those allowed to use his given name. She rose and smoothed the winkles from her skirt.

  The man just stood there. His hands were on his hips and his gaze raked her from head to toe. “Have you been drinking, Valentina?” It was okay for him to use her first name but she couldn’t use his? Her lips pouted.

  “Well, have you?” he repeated in a low voice that caused her heart to race.

  “What?” She shook her head. “Hell no. Don’t you know it’s against the law to drink and drive?” She waved her fingers at him before entwining her fingers behind her back and propping against her car.

  “Keep your hands where I can see them.” He took a step closer and the same intoxicating cologne she first noticed when he leaned against her car entered her brain again.

  She took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes. “Where would you like me to put them?” she purred. Since when had she become such a vixen? Valentina had always been a bumbling idiot whenever Ryan was around and barely able to remember her name. Now she wa
s practically begging to be put in handcuffs. The man was so close she could feel his breath on her skin.

  “Walk,” he whispered in her ear.

  “What?” Valentina pushed away from the car and Ryan stepped back.

  “I said walk.” He took out his light again and motioned to the center line. “I can’t smell it but something tells me you’ve been hitting the bottle. You’re usually a shy thing.”

  It was now or never if she was going to get Ryan to think of her as anything other than Roman’s nerdy little sister. Strutting as sexily as she could, Valentina maneuvered the yellow stripe perfectly. When she reached the end, she did a turn that would make any runway model envious. Somewhere along the way her awkwardness had turned to grace and her timidness to confidence. “So, how did I do?”

  His face hadn’t changed. What was the man thinking? How she wished it was sunny out so he’d be wearing a pair of those hot mirrored sunglasses, but then she wouldn’t be able to read his eyes then either.

  “You shouldn’t be driving in those shoes.”

  She turned her foot at an angle. “You don’t like my shoes? They cost me a thousand dollars.”

  “I don’t care what they cost. They’re dangerous. Your foot could slip off the pedal and cause an accident.”

  Her heart sank. All he was interested in was public safety, and he’d probably say the same thing to every chick in a pair of pumps.

  “Maybe I like living dangerously,” she tossed out while sauntering back to her car.

  Ryan grabbed her arm and pulled her tightly to his chest. “Is that so?”

  Finally, she was where she yearned to be for so long. “Yes, but only if you’re there to protect and serve me.” It was corny but it brought a smile to his lips.

  “I can definitely do that.” His mouth lowered to hers.