Bad Behavior: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Leah Holt

  I fucking loved that dimple.

  “You have no idea the things I would do to keep you safe.” Kissing her neck, I planted my lips up her throat. Moaning, Ivy's head fell back, her eyes rolling shut. “You're not his anymore, you need to realize that.”

  Lifting her off my lap, I laid her gently onto the bed. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the small key for the lock. Holding it next to my face, I ran my finger up and down the slim metal, and placed it down onto the blanket. “Here. I'll be back later.”

  Ivy's arm was bent up near her head, her face so perfect like a porcelain doll. Her lips were a natural pink shade, face flushed and flustered from my kisses.

  A small smirk pulled to her ear, her eyes brightening again with life. I watched the spark ignite. She was gleaming on the inside. “Trust, Dante.”

  “I can't unlock you myself. But if you decide to run, head east. I'll understand if you're not here when I get back. But just know I won't be able to protect you if you go. If you run from here, it's all out of my hands.” Digging my hands into my pockets, I headed out the door, closing it behind me.

  I had to trust she'd stay. There was something between us and I was certain she wasn't just playing me to get what she wanted.

  If she wanted to fight me, she would have. There was no doubt in my mind about that.

  That key had been in my pocket every day. She could have taken it at any time and she hadn’t.

  Trust was what she had from me.

  Trust was what I was giving to her.

  Fourteen

  Dante

  Watching the lot from a distance, I saw several guys go in and out of Remo's. I knew most of the faces, but a couple of them I didn't recognize.

  Which was a big 'no, no,' in our agreement. He was supposed to run all of his guys through us first. We had to make sure they were who they said they were. That was the rule, and right now I could see he wasn't following it.

  Two of the guys looked shifty. Their eyes scattered around the yard, looking a little too closely at things that weren't their concern. My family owned four of the containers they were studying.

  I didn't like that one bit.

  Picking up my phone, I took a couple pictures of the guys, trying to zoom in as best I could. They weren't looking in my direction at all, so I wasn't worried that they spotted me.

  Hitting send, I sent the images to my dad.

  'You know these guys?'

  Resting the phone on my leg, I waited for him to respond. Scrunching my face, I leaned in over the steering wheel to try and see what the hell they were doing.

  One of the guys was standing with his arms crossed, his head glancing around in every direction. He was wearing a black leather jacket, his hair slicked back tight. Bobbling on his heels, he twisted his waist to look over his shoulder.

  Ducking my head lower, I kept my eyes just above the rim. But he didn't linger very long where I was parked. He didn't see me.

  His head flicked to the entrance as the door cracked open. Nodding his head at the other guy, the two started walking towards the door, disappearing behind the thick metal barricade. I sat puzzled and pissed off. It had been opened for them to go in without question.

  They were invited.

  But I didn't have a fucking idea who they were or what the hell Remo was doing bringing in guys we didn't authorize.

  My phone buzzed, picking it up, I read the message.

  'No. Who are they?' he asked.

  'Fuck if I know.'

  'Take care of this, Dante. Get him to understand we're serious. And don't take no for an answer.'

  'Done.' Tucking the phone back into my pocket, I cracked my knuckles and stretched my arms across my chest.

  The game was on.

  Ivy had disappeared from his home long enough for him to start looking, to start wondering. And we knew from our inside informants that no one had reported her missing. Which was good.

  Really good.

  That meant no one other than her handler was looking for her. The cops weren't involved, there were no news stories about her going missing, no articles in the papers about the petite copper-colored-hair woman who had vanished into thin air from her living room.

  And that was exactly what we needed to happen.

  If the world was looking for this innocent lost soul, it would make things much more difficult. We didn't need things to get any more complicated.

  Closing the door softly, I walked casually across the street and into the lion's den. It was time to let Remo know what we wanted, and what would happen if he didn't take care of his end.

  Gripping the gun in my pocket, I stood outside the door and knocked.

  One knock, two knocks, then three rapid taps in one procession. It was our calling card.

  The Pisanis are here.

  A beady eyed little man, who went by the name Del, opened the door and stuck his face out. “Mr. Pisani, Remo's in a meeting right now, you'll have to come back later.” His square glasses were two sizes too big for his head, turning his tiny eyes into giant popping disks.

  A thin smile spread over my face, head turning down in his direction. “Open the door, Del, or I'll open it for you.”

  “He can't see you right now . . .” Bumbling over his words, he scratched his nappy black hair. Tapping my leg, I waited for him to finish his sentence properly. “Sir.” His face trembled, knuckles turning white against the door.

  If I was a nicer guy I might feel bad about making him so nervous. But I wasn't, so I didn't care. I fed off it, letting it consume what was left of my soul to make me grow larger.

  I would always be a bad man. It's who I was, it captured my name in lights and left dead men in my wake.

  “Don't make me tell you again, Del.” Puffing my chest, I straightened my back. “Open the door.”

  His eyes circled my body, hand still holding firmly in place.

  Alright . . . We're doing this my way then.

  Del started to answer, but I didn't give him any time to finish even the first letter of whatever the hell he was about to say.

  I knew he was just trying to do what he was told. But it was me he was talking to, not some lower level scum who took orders like the local street walkers took dick.

  Grabbing the edge of the door, I shoved it open and walked right through Del. His small body jerked to the side, trying to get out of my way.

  He wasn't fast enough. His feet twisted together as my shoulder connected with the side of his face. I wasn't normally so intense with my arrival. Under normal circumstances I might have given him the extra time.

  But not today.

  Keeping my head straight, I walked to Remo's office and almost walked right through the door. Throwing the door open, I stood in the entryway, eyes firmly set on Remo.

  Snapping his head in my direction, he looked stunned. “Dante . . . Wh—what are you doing here? This isn't a delivery week.”

  Taking a second to scan the place, the two men I had seen outside were sitting in front of Remo, both intently holding a piece of paper and a pen.

  “Hello, gentleman. Time for you to leave.” Pressing my back against the door, I fanned my arm out. “Please don't make me ask again.”

  Standing quickly, Remo's hands came down hard on his desk. “No.” He spoke to the men, then let his eyes drift up to mine. “Dante, you're out of line here. This is my place, I run it from inside these walls.”

  Cocking my head, I smiled. “Is that right?” Stepping in, I let the door swing shut on its own. The handle clanked into place, echoing against the empty walls. Walking behind the two men still seated at Remo's desk, I leaned down over the greasy haired man's shoulder. “What are you fellas reading? Is it interesting?” Plucking the paper out of the man's fingers in one quick snap, I held it up.

  Holding my jaw, I nodded as I read the contract. “Hm . . . No kidding,” I said under my breath with a sarcastic smile. Continuing my walk to the side of the desk, I read the last lines out loud. “‘Th
e business conducted behind these walls is confidential. At no point should it be discussed, repeated, or written down to any party that is not part of this establishment.’ Is this what I think it is?”

  “Dante, this has nothing to do with you or your family. These men are an outside hire for my own personal business.” Waving his hand in the air, his fingers danced with each word.

  I hated that about him. The way he used his hands constantly in conversation to say what his mouth was already spewing. It irked me, and I wasn't sure why.

  It was just one of those things you notice and single out about someone who you hate. I could name off everything I hated about Remo, but nothing went up my ass more than knowing what he had done to Ivy.

  To my Ivy.

  “That's where you're wrong, Remo. Personal business is conducted at home, not here. Here, in this building, it becomes my business.” Crumpling the paper in my hand, I dropped it into the trashcan beside his desk. “No one gets hired without our permission. You know that's the rule, and you just broke it.”

  “It's not what you think, I need these men for something else. It doesn't involve you or your family.”

  “I think it does.” Arching a brow, I veered my stare. “I think it does.”

  Remo's lips puckered like an old asshole. Crinkling in at the corners, the edges drooped down and sagged over each other. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Turning to the two men, I nodded my head towards the door. “Out, I need to talk to him in private.”

  They both looked between each other, turning up to look at Remo. Tilting my head, I spoke clear and firm. “You don't need to look for his permission. Out.”

  The guy on the right had a short buzz cut, his face holding a faded scar across his jaw. “Remo, want us to take care of this guy? I will, free of—”

  Gritting my teeth, I cracked the bones in my neck with a quick hard tilt. “I told you, you don't need his permission.” Stepping in front of them, I threw my hands out and grabbed each one by the throat. Pinching their necks between my fingers, I lifted them off the shitty chairs that held their pathetic fucking bodies.

  Their eyes bugged from their skulls, fingers clawing at my arms. Gurgled sounds spilled off their tongues as they tried to breathe and swallow. But I wasn't letting them do a fucking thing till they were out that door.

  This was my time with Remo.

  Tossing them out the door like garbage, their bodies bounced off the cement. Instinctively, they both massaged their necks, scooting up on one arm and looking at me with the best expression I could ever get.

  Fear.

  Fuck. I love that look a little too much.

  “Don't look at me crooked, don't let your mouth run wild, don't fuck with me.” Pointing a single finger down at the pieces of shit scrambling back, I said, “I will not tolerate it.”

  Taking one step backwards, I was back inside the room. Slamming the door shut, I stood for a moment in silence.

  Remo and I had a few things to discuss.

  Fifteen

  Dante

  Remo studied me from across the room. His eyes angled into pin points, his face sharp and peeling back like a hungry lizard. Tilting his chin up, he pressed his palms meticulously onto the desk, the tips of his fingers bending up at the knuckle.

  We both stood quiet, just observing each other. This was a battle of more than muscle, this was some serious mind fucking.

  And I was going to blow his out of his fucking skull and into the ceiling.

  My hands were open and by my sides, chest hammering with adrenaline.

  If I had no control the guy would already be dead.

  He was lucky I had self-restraint and respected my father enough to follow orders. But that restraint only went so deep—it was hanging on by a thread.

  “Dante, would you care to explain what this little visit is all about?” There went his hands again. One finger swirled imaginary circles over the desk, the other whirling in the air before coming back down to rest.

  If I had to torture that man I knew I'd go for his hands first.

  Walking to the desk, I held the back of one of the chairs. “May I?” I asked.

  Holding out his arm, his lips closed tight as he nodded. “Of course.”

  Sitting down, I steepled my fingers against my lips, and arched my brows for him to sit too. It took him a second to catch what I was waiting for.

  Taking his seat, Remo cleared his throat and scooted himself in. “Those men out there have nothing to do with our business, Dante. I need them for something else, something . . .” Pausing, his hand circled the air. “Private.”

  “Tell me, Remo, this private business you have—what is it?”

  I was playing cat and mouse, ready to bait him. I was putting the pieces together, who those men were, and what they were here for.

  Bounty hunters hired to find his fugitive.

  The woman he lost, the woman he craved to keep for his own sick games. He wanted Ivy, and he had no idea he was never getting her back.

  “Please, let's not mix our business with such foolish questions. You don't need to worry about this, it won't impact our contract. You'll have your load in on time, and these men will never be here again.”

  A deep laugh rolled out of my mouth, head shaking side to side. “That's where you're wrong. You see, our business has already been affected, and those men will have nothing to do with you. I want you to go out there and tell them you changed your mind, tell them to leave and never come back.”

  Holding out his hands, he fanned the blank space. “No, no, no, I can't do that. I need them, I've lost something that needs to be found—immediately.”

  “I know.”

  His face went static, lids expanding. “What do you mean you know?”

  “I know.”

  “Be specific, Dante. What do you know?” I didn't answer. Instead I smiled the cruelest and most devious smile I could. “You know where she is?”

  “We want what's ours, what you owe to us. You lost us over a quarter million dollars, Remo . . . You did that. And you let Sesto roll on us without one fucking word to my father.”

  “Dante, that's not how it went. Sesto went on his own, I had nothing to do with that.”

  “You mean you didn't give him the copies of our receipts, or access to transaction dates and delivery locations? He pulled that shit out of his ass with no help from you? My father might take your word on things, but I don't trust you for a second.”

  “I wouldn't do that to your father, he's been good to me, Dante.”

  “Too good, if you ask me.”

  “Good thing no one is asking you then.”

  He's pushing me. He's really walking a thin line.

  My nails burned into my palms, digging in to keep steady. I wanted to launch myself across the desk, clock him in the jaw, and hold my gun to his head. But I kept my cool the best I could.

  “Right now, no, but that won't be forever. You owe us, we want our money, and until you give us what we want . . .” Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I let my teeth shine. “Your little toy is ours.”

  “You took her—you took my Celia?”

  “Celia? Who the fuck is Celia?”

  “I gave her a new name, I didn't like the one she came with, especially after you said it. That is my property and I want it back.”

  Remo remembered that night, it had stuck with him the same way it stuck with me. Except it was for completely different reasons. I remembered that night in the restaurant because of her, he remembered it because of me and our introduction.

  He spoke about Ivy like she was bought at a store, like she wasn't even real. That went up my ass.

  It shouldn't bother me, I shouldn't care for that fucking girl . . . But I did.

  “Property? How do you turn a sweet girl into a piece of property?”

  “That's none of your concern, just give her back.”

  Grabbing a pen from the holder, I pressed the tip int
o one of my fingers. “Did you actually even pay her family?”

  Grumbling under his breath, his head hung into his chest. “How many times do I have to tell you it's none of your fucking business?”

  “Call it curiosity. Tell me, how did you get her? How did you find her?”

  “Dante, you’re really starting to piss me off . . .” His jaw shot out, teeth grinding together so loudly I could hear the grit flaking off. “Her father actually owed me, but I compensated him well, paid him a good chunk to keep his head above water.”

  Digging the end of the pen into my chin, I nodded. “Is he still above water?”

  “For now.” Remo's hands shook against the table. Pressing his palms flat, his fingers separated and look like they were about to split off.

  Plopping the pen back into place, I angled my head up. “Alright, you have two choices, Remo.”

  “No,” he snapped, cocking his head up. “You have to return what's not yours.” His eyes danced inside his head, flashing with the true evil he held inside. “Give. Her. Back.”

  “I don't remember telling you your options, let me finish.” Leaning into the desk, I met his buried threats head on. “One—you pay what you owe us, and I'll think about returning her to you. Two—you let me buy her from you, you let me take her off your hands, and then you pay my father so he doesn't kill you.”

  “No.” Flapping his hand, he waved me away immediately. “Those are shit options, Dante, and I don't think your father agreed to them either.”

  “It's because of you that we even have her, Remo. My father could give two shits about what happens to her, all he wants is what's his. And . . .” Pausing so he could let every word sink into his small useless excuse for a brain, I eyed him under heavy lids. “All I want is what's yours.”

  “Don't you touch her, Dante. Do you know what I've done for your father? Do you know why I know he wouldn't dare keep what's mine?”

  “I don't fucking care. What I do know is that without my father, without our business, you'd be done, Remo.” Slamming a finger into the desk, I leaned in closer. “What you did for him couldn't even stand up to what he's done for you. You're lucky he hasn't killed you yet.”