Dirty Behavior: A Dark Mafia Romance (Behavior Series: Book Two)

by Leah Holt

  “It's five o'clock somewhere.” Taking a sip, his lips hissed as he swallowed. “You've never heard that before?” Holding out a single finger, he squinted with his question.

  Shaking my head no, I folded my hands and rested them on the table.

  “Huh, I thought everyone's heard that one before.” Shrugging his shoulders, he took another long chug. “Sorry about your old man, Dante, it really sucks. The whole crew is really pissed about the whole thing. Are you planning on stepping up, taking your rightful seat on the throne?”

  Thinning my lips, I nodded a heavy 'no'.

  That was something I couldn't even think about doing until I finished with Remo. I couldn't concentrate on anything else, let alone what it would take to fill my father's shoes.

  “Seriously? You know Sesto—”

  Holding up my hand, I cut him off. “That's not why I'm here. Vince, I need your help.”

  Fuck my brother, he's the last thing on my mind right now.

  Arching his brows, his head fell to his shoulder. “Help with what?”

  Twirling my thumbs, all my years of training rolled in like the fog on a humid summer morning. My spine clicked one vertebrae at a time until I was straight, my lips curled into my signature devil's grin.

  I didn't even have to think about it anymore, I had done this dance so many times before that it all came so naturally.

  “I've got a job for you, for us. There's something I need to do and I'll need your help.”

  “Help,” Vince chuckled, rolling his eyes. “When in your life have you ever really needed me for anything?” Placing his beer down on the hard granite, he pressed his palms into the edge of the counter. “Seriously, Dante, what the hell are you trying to ask me?”

  I wasn't going to skirt around what I needed or try and work him up with excitement until what I asked him for didn't matter. I was just going to spit it out.

  “I want you to help me kill Remo.”

  Choking on his own breath of air, he chuckled between gulps. “You're fucking with me, right?”

  “I'm serious, he killed my father, he deserves to pay for it.” There was no uncertainty in my voice, no regret for even saying the words out loud.

  Not only did I know it was what I wanted, but I felt it in every bone in my fucking body.

  Vince stared at me, his charred eyes searching my face. “How do you even know it was him?”

  “Because I know.” Keeping my head up, my lips pulled in tight as I spoke.

  Swallowing hard, Vince's head fell down, staring at the bottle in his hand. “What ever happened to that whore we took? I heard you ran off with the bitch.”

  Gritting my teeth, my fists clenched tight. My heart thumped in double beats, the thick sinew around my bones hardened. I was ready to charge him, knock his head off his shoulders, and just say fuck it. I didn't really need him anyway.

  All I wanted him for was a diversion. It was no sweat off my back if he laid there on his floor with a broken neck, wheezing for air until the world around him finally faded to black.

  But I needed help, even if I didn't want to ask for it.

  “Don't.” Snapping my head up, my brows rippled into a deep V. Throwing my arm out, I snagged his shirt and yanked him down over the counter. “Don't ever talk about something you know nothing about. That shit will get you killed, you know that.”

  Holding up his hands, Vince stumbled on his words, his eyes popping open. “I. . . I didn't. . . I didn't mean to—”

  Cutting him off, I growled. “You never mean to, do you?” My eyes walked over his face, reminding him of who he was talking to. “Remo needs to go, Vince, that's it.” Shoving him backwards, his feet staggered over each other.

  He was staring at me like I had lost my damn mind. “Dante, that's fucking crazy, you know I can't do that.”

  “What the fuck do you mean you can't? Vince, you know as well as I do that you can handle a job like this.”

  He can't do it? Is he playing a fucking joke on me?

  “I don't think that's a good idea, it wouldn't work.” His eyes became shifty, darting around with nervous bursts. He looked up, he looked down, he looked everywhere but at me.

  What the fuck is wrong with him?

  Had I really scared him that much that he was pussying out on me?

  “He's expecting me, I'm sure of that. But I've thought about this a lot, and if you were the one knocking, he wouldn't see me coming. I know Remo's got that place on lockdown, but you could be the one to get me inside. That's all I need, Vince, just get me—”

  “Dante,” he said loudly, staring at me long and hard. “You really haven't heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  “Shit,” he said, dragging his palms down his face. “I don't know how to tell you this.” His fingers combed through his hair nervously, trying to break through the rat's nest of knots.

  Tell me what? What the fuck does he have to tell me?

  Everything about the way he was standing and moving was dripping with awkward and uncomfortable energy. His hands shook as he took another sip of his beer, his mouth twitched as he wiped away the droplets sticking to his upper lip.

  “Just fucking say it.” Blurting out the words under my breath, my jaw went stiff, crooking to the side. But I wouldn't let my eyes deviate from his, even though he tried hard as hell to not look at me.

  I wanted to make sure he felt me staring at him.

  “After your dad, you were gone, Sesto was locked up, and well. . .” Vince took in a deep breath, his eyes drifting in empty space. “Some of us didn't have a choice, we needed work, and Remo—”

  Slamming my fist on the counter, my jaw locked against my teeth as I spoke. “No, Vince, no fucking way. You're working for that piece of shit?”

  His eyes bulged, fear painting his skin in white. “I didn't have an option, what the hell was I supposed to do?”

  “Who else? Who else betrayed my family?” My knuckles drained, nails digging into my skin and piercing through.

  Throwing his hands up, Vince took a long step back. “Look, I'm sorry, Dante, but without your dad, the work was gone. Remo gave me what I needed, a fucking paycheck.”

  I could smell the fear on him. He was shaking so violently that I half expected him to piss himself right there.

  He should be scared.

  He just made himself another name on my list. A list that keeps getting longer and longer every day. So many men needed judgment, so many guys needed to face the truth.

  They had just fucked with the wrong person.

  Vince had betrayed us, he went right into the belly of the beast with open arms.

  “You didn't even give us a chance, Vince!” Lurching forward, I jumped out of the seat and leaned over the counter. “You didn't even wait to see what happened? Where the fuck is your loyalty?” Holding the edge of the table top, I stepped to the end.

  My veins were running black, every nerve sparked in rage and betrayal. Vince had been working for my family for years, he was always willing to do anything for my father.

  I had trusted him.

  We were like family.

  Now he was the enemy, an appendage to the evil son of a bitch who stole my father from me and spoiled the woman I love.

  “You were nowhere to be found!” he yelled, throwing his arms in the air. “How long did you expect me to wait? I didn't have a fucking clue where you went or even if you were coming back!”

  Dragging my hand through my hair, I pulled it back tight. “Fuck, Vince!” Squeezing my temples, I let my head fall to the floor.

  “I won't tell him, Dante, I won't let Remo know what you're planning. I'll do that for you, so you can get away.”

  Did he really just say that?

  Did he really think he had an upper hand here?

  He's so fucking foolish.

  Vince thought I should be the one to run again? He actually had the balls to make it out like he was doing me a favor by not telling Remo.

  As he sp
oke, my heart began to speed up, hammering inside my chest. I wanted to fucking kill him and make sure he didn't run his mouth off to his new boss.

  Just because he said he wouldn't tell, didn't mean it was the truth. My brother had devoted his life to this business and to our family.

  Did that last?

  No.

  Vince wasn't blood, so why should I believe him?

  Lunging forward, I threw my arm out, fist closed tight. I reacted, my muscles took over, my anger and rage filling them to the point of explosion.

  Connecting with his jaw, he fell to one knee, coddling his face. He wouldn't look up at me, he kept his eyes steady on dead air. Cocking my arm back, I hit him again and again. Fist after fist came down, Vince blocking the hits but not fighting back.

  I had my hand up high, coiled back, ready to strike another blow.

  But I didn't.

  I let my hand fall to my side, fingers loosening. He was pathetic and didn't deserve another ounce of my energy. “Vince, you really need to re-evaluate your life, take another look at what you're doing. I'm back, I'm here now. You're getting one chance to make things right. You know I never do this, I don't give second chances. So think about what I said.” Turning, I stormed to the door.

  “What are you going to do, Dante?” Vince asked from the floor as he rubbed his chin, shock and confusion staining his already alabaster skin.

  “I told you, I'm going to kill Remo.” Glaring at him from over my shoulder, I said, “Go on, tell your fucking boss, give him the chance to run. Because I'm coming for him, Vince, and I won't stop till he's dead.” Slamming the door shut, my feet pounded over the cement.

  That was the last thing I expected.

  Never in my life would I have thought that our guys would go work for that scumbag. But they did.

  Money talked, money drove decisions, money twisted their ability to think for themselves.

  Was I pissed that Remo had slithered in and nabbed our guys?

  Absolutely.

  But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking he won.

  Let Vince run back to him and tell him what I planned to do. I didn't give a fuck.

  Remo knew the day would come when I would return and seek him out. He already knew I was here, he had to.

  If the papers didn't tip him off, one of our guys did after the funeral. I knew that now for sure. So Vince could tell him anything he fucking wanted to.

  I had the upper hand, I held the trigger in my finger. I would come when he least expected it. I would slip in and let the cool metal of my gun press against his temple.

  And I would let my hands speak what my body was feeling.

  Nine

  Dante

  My eyes were frozen on the road as I drove back to the house. Everything in my brain was a tumbling mess of pure rage.

  All my muscles were throbbing, aching, burning with the need to just fucking hit something. I was so tempted to let myself keep going on Vince, just let my body fully release all that tension so I could regain my focus.

  But I couldn't, he wasn't worth my time.

  He has a choice, I gave him one choice.

  It was Remo or me.

  When Vince asked me if I was back to run shit, I was a little shocked. I hadn't actually had the time to think about taking over what my father left behind. Somewhere deep in my mind I was sure the idea had slipped through like a light static charge, but I must have just let it spark, fizzle, and die out before it could turn into anything.

  It wouldn't be the first time I let my drive tunnel into one image, one idea, one thought.

  My mind had been so focused on getting revenge, I wouldn't let anything else in. I wanted it all back, this was my home, my turf.

  But he was right, this was also my city. I should be the one calling the shots, and I wasn't going to just stand by and watch it burn.

  It was going to be like climbing a mountain, I was going to have to kick down doors and jump walls to get it all back.

  And I was more then willing to do that. Pisani was a name, it was a brand, and I was the last one left to hold it high.

  The tires kicked up dust and rocks as I flew into the driveway. Throwing the door open, my feet crashed through the dirt as I made my way up to the house.

  My stomach was twisting, coiling into a knot. I was gone and I had left Ivy alone. If my guys were working for the enemy then there was no telling what Remo might know. This home had been kept a secret, but secrets didn't always stay buried.

  Every single piece of me was terrified that something bad had happened to her. Call it a sixth sense, but I couldn't help but feel an urgency to get to my woman.

  Plowing through the door, I let it fly open under my weight. “Ivy! Ivy!” Yelling up the stairs, I glanced quickly around the kitchen and living room. “Ivy!” Clutching the railing, I jumped the stairs as fast as I could.

  Her head popped out from the bedroom door, eyes huge and full of worry. “What? Dante are you alright? What's wrong?”

  Breathing heavily, I gripped her arms and tugged her into my chest. “Nothing, it's fine now.” My chest stung, heart palpitating in triple beats. “I just—” Rubbing her back, my tone deepened. “Nevermind, it's stupid.”

  I didn't want to worry her, I didn't want her to ever feel like she wasn't safe.

  Glancing over her shoulder into the bedroom, I noticed there were items that weren't there before. A bag of chips, opened and spilling out onto the bed, a magazine I didn't remember buying her from one of our short stops on the way here.

  There was a tall can of iced tea sitting on the floor, and a plastic bag still full from the Quick Fill gas station a few miles into the city.

  “What the fuck is that? How did you get this?” Pushing out from our embrace, I stalked over to the bed. “How the hell did you get this stuff?” Cocking my head, I plucked the handle of the bag with one finger.

  Ivy held her hands out, stepping into the room. “Dante, you need to know something.”

  Smacking my lips shut, I glared at her. “Did you leave?” Lunging forward, I held her arm tightly in my hand.

  She looked like she was at a loss for words. Her lips buzzed in sound, eyes flashing in thought, but there was no volume, she couldn't speak. . . Or maybe she didn't want to.

  Was she scared to tell me the truth?

  Why?

  Ivy knew I wouldn't hurt her, she knew there was no way I would ever lay a finger on her, no matter how pissed I was. So why wouldn't she just tell me how she got that shit?

  “Answer me!” Yelling loudly, I yanked her into my chest. Hovering above her, I spoke strong and deep into her ear. “Tell me how you got this shit.”

  Staring up at my face, her lower lip pouted. “You told me we were safe, you told me no one else new about this place.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Yeah, that's all true.”

  Mostly true.

  But the only other person who knew about this house was behind bars. She didn't have to worry about anyone else, at least that's what I needed her to think.

  Secrets always had a way of slipping through the cracks, but I had to stay true to what I believed, and I believed this home was safe. It always was before and I needed it to be now.

  Pulling her arms free, she walked over to the bed and fanned her arm out. “We had nothing, Dante, we needed stuff. Food, something to drink, fuck, something for me to do. I've been here basically alone the entire time.”

  “I could have gotten you this, you didn't have to go out by yourself. What if something happened to you, Ivy?”

  “I didn't go myself.” Crossing her arms over her chest, her leg kicked out to the side.

  “What do you mean? Who went?”

  How the fuck did she get it if she didn't go herself?

  The groceries didn't just fall from thin air, and unless she walked the entire way by foot, they had to come from someone. It didn't make sense. The who, what, when, it just wasn't falling into place.

  �
�We're not alone, Dante.”

  Glancing around the room, I said, “Yes we are.”

  Her hair whipped across her face as she shook her head no. “You're wrong.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” My hands balled by my sides, my head started to throb right in the center of my forehead. “What do you mean I'm wrong?”

  Ivy's hand flew up to her mouth, biting at her nail. Taking a small step forward, she reached for my hand. “Dante, we're not alone, you're not alone.”

  “I don't understand what you're getting at?”

  “Earlier—”

  A soft step creaked in the hall. My body went into protector mode, shutting down any of the other sounds around me, focusing only on the barely audible intruder trying to sneak in.

  Turning sharply on the balls of my feet, I shoved Ivy behind me, pulling out my gun in one fluent motion and snapping it up to my chest.

  “Long time no see, brother.”

  My jaw dropped, finger firming around the trigger. “What the fuck are you doing here, Sesto? When did you get out?”

  “A few days ago.” Holding up his hands, palms facing out, he said, “Here me out, Dante, I didn't come here to cause any trouble.”

  “Then fucking leave!” My voice heightened, lids lowering to hover half open. “You shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be anywhere near here.”

  Stepping to the doorway, Sesto kept his hands up. “What are you going to do, shoot me? You know I have nowhere else to go. I need help and I think you might need mine too.”

  “Fuck you, I don't need anything from you.” Spitting at his feet, I ran my wrist across my mouth and wiped away the left over droplets. “I'm not going to shoot you, I have bigger things to deal with.” Arching a brow, my nostrils flared. “You're on my list, but I don't have the time or patience for you right now.”

  “We need to talk, here me out.” Taking another slow step closer, he kept his eyes on mine. “You don't know all the facts.”

  “I don't fucking care.” Tucking the gun back in place, I clenched my fists. “This is the last warning I'm going to give you, Sesto. Get the fuck out.”

  Ivy chimed in from over my shoulder, her voice delicate and full of compassion. “Dante, maybe you should listen to him, he is your brother.”