Betraying the Mob (The Mob Lust Series Book 3)

by Kristen Luciani

  But still, that fucking anger rages through me and makes me keep doing stupid shit.

  I clench my fists. The list of my regrets has no fucking end in sight.

  There’s a long line in front of the door, and my eyes scour the crowd for the one face I know I won’t find. That doesn’t prevent me from stopping to admire the goods on the half-naked chicks shaking their asses even though the wind chill tonight has to be below zero. A few girls catch my eye and puff out their chests, giving me the come-hither look. Nico must have hired a bunch of them for the party. A couple of the real whores slide fingers up their skirts as an invitation…I guess for me and anyone else who’s enjoying the show.

  It’s not that they aren’t hot as fuck.

  It’s that none of them are Sloane.

  Sloane, who would choose death over standing around in a glorified bathing suit to attract some guy’s attention.

  Sloane, who turns red if a guy so much as winks at her.

  Sloane, who’d never think twice about showing up at a place like this in jeans and a t-shirt and still manage to look like a supermodel in comparison to the sluts flashing their pussies to get inside this club.

  She’s always the most gorgeous girl in the room, even though she doesn’t know it.

  It’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her.

  But, like everything else in my life, I screwed it up. At least, I’d had her friendship, for a time, until I screwed that up just as much.

  Now I have nothing.

  I apologized and tried to explain myself without admitting the truth. That went nowhere fast.

  She thinks I’m full of shit.

  And dammit if she isn’t right.

  “Max!” I suck in a sharp breath and look toward the door. Nico’s head pops out, and he waves me toward him. The two bouncers nod at me and unclip the velvet rope, letting me pass. I feel a few dirty hands graze parts of me that have been ignored for longer than I’d like to admit, but tonight isn’t the time to dwell on that.

  I’ve got other shit polluting my mind, things that would instantly kill even the most raging hard-on.

  Kill. Interesting choice of word.

  Inside the club, the pulsating beats of electronica drown out the toxic memories flashing through my mind. Accusations, tears, screams. Hell, I deserved all of it and more.

  Forgiveness. I’d like to be worthy of it.

  Someday.

  But you saved someone that night, too.

  Yes, Layla deVincenzo is still alive because of me. I protected her, brought her home to her family.

  I brought Gabe home, too…just not in the same way.

  I clench my fists. This shit will keep poisoning my mind until I drown it with some scotch.

  Nico pulls me over to a table in a dark corner. My sister Shaye pops up from the couch, dressed head to toe in black leather. I smirk and kiss her forehead. “Aren’t you sweating your ass off in all that leather? What happens if you have to pee? Is it a Ross situation waiting to happen?”

  She chuckles loudly, letting out a little snort and then sips the rest of whatever is in her glass. I cock an eyebrow at Nico. My baby sis is pretty damn hammered. It’s the only time she makes those unlady-like noises, and it’s funny as shit.

  “You’re an asshole,” she slurs, poking a finger at my chest. “S-Sloane is coming, and she’s s-still pissed off at you for that bullshit on Thanks-sgiving.”

  I rake a hand through my hair. “I tried to apologize.”

  “Yeah, and how did you think that was gonna go over when Layla showed up half-naked?”

  “I told her to stay out of sight.” I flop onto the couch, my head in my hands.

  “You fucked up big this time.” Nico punches me in the shoulder. “You’re just lucky my dad didn’t exterminate you.”

  “Yeah, I feel really lucky.” How ironic is that? I fuck shit up and Nico’s dad gives me a pass. My own father? He’d sell me out in a hot second for a fucking nickel.

  “It wasn’t your fault about Gabe. You have to stop blaming yourself.” Nico hands me a shot glass of some amber-colored liquid, and I gulp it down. “Another,” I rasp, slamming it onto the table. He refills it and I shoot it, the fiery liquid sizzling as it slides down my throat.

  “Easier said than done.”

  Nico nods. “I know it’s been rough. But he made the choice to go after you. Nobody gave him an order. That’s always a risk we take when we walk into a situation we shouldn’t.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Shit happens. Bad shit.”

  “If this is a pep talk, it’s not fucking working.” I rub my temples. “I just wanna block it all out.”

  “Gabe was a good guy, but he knew what he was signing up for when he became part of the family.”

  “He didn’t deserve it.”

  “That doesn’t mean you go after Bonnaro again.” Nico narrows his eyes. “So don’t get any fucking ideas.”

  “I don’t think we’re gonna have to go anywhere. I think they’re gonna come to us.”

  Thankfully, Shaye is completely obliterated. This isn’t the kind of conversation we should be having anywhere in public, but it’s also the first time in two weeks that my best friend has spoken to me and not bitten my head off in the process. Shaye leans over and puts a hand on my arm. “Did you s-sleep with Layla, Max?” Yeah, she is oblivious to what we just covered. Good. She doesn’t need to worry about anything else right now.

  I shake my head. “Fuck, no. She was just really scared and didn’t want to be alone.”

  “That means she wanted to fuck you and you didn’t take the bait.”

  I roll my eyes. “I didn’t lead her on. I told her she could stay in my bed, and I’d sleep on the couch. Was Sloane really pissed off because she thought I did?”

  “Sloane showed up worried s-sick that you’d been lying in a ditch s-somewhere. Imagine how she felt when s-she saw Layla shaking her naked ass under one of your t-shirts, a t-shirt that Sloane bought for you, dumbass.”

  “I know you’re not mentally with me right now, but I don’t get why she was so upset. We’re just friends. And that was her choice.”

  Shaye shrugs and falls backward onto Nico. “Maybe s-she wants more.”

  “She might have.” I pour another shot for myself. “But she’d be smart to stay far away.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself.”

  “There are lots of reasons why.”

  Shaye grunts a response. “Is this about Daddy? He’s always all over your ass. You should just tell him once and for all to leave you alone and let you fuck up your life your way.”

  I down the shot. “Thanks, sis. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  “Anytime. And for what it’s worth, you made a dumbass move with Sloane the other night, but I don’t think it’s over for her. Not by a long shot.” She winks at me and uncaps a bottle of water before proceeding to dribble it all over her leather outfit.

  “I don’t think water and leather mix well.” I snicker and nod at Nico. “Enjoy, brother.”

  He shrugs and slaps her ass, his hand making a loud spanking sound on the fabric. And unfortunately, her face brightens up like a spotlight is shining on it. In no time, she’s plastered all over Nico. I throw up a little in my mouth and turn away once she throws a leg over his lap, straddling him right out in the open.

  Why the hell did they want me here again? Just to torture me with PDA and give me a shred of false hope that I may not have completely screwed up with Sloane? Even if it’s not over for her, it should be. What the hell can I offer her? Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe unless I’m swinging a baseball bat at someone’s head. It’s like Nico said. It’s what I’m good at. How the hell can I have a normal relationship when there’s so much rage inside of me? I’ve proven time and time again that I can’t control it, and the source of that rage taunts me every fucking chance he gets.

  Thanks, Dad.

  She needs normal and I’m anything but.

  I walk ov
er to a couple of the guys. Rocco, Vin, and Gio are sitting around the next table, and there are girls in bikinis sliding up and down poles on either side of the semi-circular couch. I sink next to Rocco, whom I still want to beat the fuck down nine times out of ten. He turns to me and pulls out a bottle of scotch. “You look like you can use one.”

  “A bottle? Yeah,” I grumble. “That sounds about right.”

  He pours a couple of shots for us and hands me one. We shoot them back without a word, and when he raises his eyebrows, I nod. Two more shots get poured, then two more. It’s only after the third one that I begin to feel somewhat numb.

  That’s a good start. Thank fuck I took an Uber.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s just been a bad couple of weeks.”

  “I thought we were done with the Cappodamos. It’s like they’re fucking with us from beyond the grave.”

  “You know how things go. Mikey Bonnaro is scrambling for any power he can get.”

  “I heard his brother Gianni is out of the clink.”

  Fuck me.

  “You know what that means, right?”

  “Yeah.” I know exactly what it means…bad shit is about to go down. Fast.

  “I told you not to mess with them that night. But you had to leave the drugs in his car and call the cops. You knew it’d come back to bite you in the ass.”

  “Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time I made a goddamn bad choice.”

  “They’re not gonna let that go, Max. Especially now that they’re trying to take over that family. They want revenge, and they want to make a name for themselves by taking over our territories.”

  “I guess I’m lucky that guys like you have my back.” If that isn’t the joke of the fucking century. Rocco would be the first one to run if shit hit the fan. He only puts his neck on the line for Nico.

  Rocco narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not taking a bullet for you because you get a bug up your ass for some bullshit reason. Don’t pull another Thanksgiving or you can kiss your ass goodbye.”

  “Like you’d ever back me anyway,” I grumble.

  “Look, just get the hell over it already. Yeah, I messed up your business thing with deVincenzo, okay? I stole your degenerate gambler clients and your money, and you fucking ratted me out without caring whether or not I’d be whacked. I paid my debt to the family, Max. How much longer are you going to hold onto this for? I think that’s why you’re always so fucking wound up and ready to explode if someone looks at you cross-eyed. Maybe you need anger management classes or some shit like that to control it.”

  I eye the half-empty bottle of scotch and imagine myself smashing it over Rocco’s skull. It’s a nice mental image. Not nearly as satisfying as doing it in real life, but hey, we can’t always get what we want. Maybe this is a new tactic I can try when I want to beat the piss out of someone. Visualize instead of pulverize.

  “How’s everything going at the construction site? Nico said some of the teamsters are giving you headaches. You want me to bust some asses for you?”

  “I can handle them by myself,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “If you need help…”

  “I don’t!”

  Rocco puts his hands up. “Dude, relax. I’m just trying to help. We’re a pretty good team even though you may not want to admit it. After what we did to Cappodamo and his dumbass goons—”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” I grumble. “I only dragged you along that day because Shaye made me.”

  He reaches over and ruffles my hair. “Come on, stop being such a little prick.”

  “Leave my fucking hair alone.” I smack at his hand, but he won’t stop. “I’ll shoot you if you don’t get the fuck off of me.”

  Rocco collapses against the back of the couch in a fit of laughter. “Why the fuck are you always about the guns and the bats? Can’t you have a conversation? I’m trying to fix this shit between us, douchebag.”

  I rake a hand through my hair, trying to fix what he’d just fucked up. “I know what you’re trying to do.” I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s better.”

  “I may need another shot if we do any more of this bonding shit, though.”

  Rocco grins and pours two more shots. I suck mine down, grateful it’s too loud in here for me to talk to the other guys. I’d rather just sit by myself, stare at the pussy walking around, and soak my regrets in alcohol.

  Too bad Rocco foiled that plan.

  I hold the empty shot glass between two fingers, staring at the floor as Rocco goes on about his new car. I nod every once in a while, missing half of what he’s saying, but he’s too blasted to realize that he’s talking to himself right now.

  Click, click, click.

  I can’t hear the sound, but that’s what I imagine I’d hear from two, high-heeled feet slowly approaching our table. I raise my eyes, squinting in the darkness, trying to make out who it is since my vision is now slightly blurry from all the booze.

  Katarina Ivanov.

  A smile tugs at my lips. Rocco is still yammering about his sound system, so I kick him to get his attention. He looks at me and then up at Kat when she stops in front of us.

  She almost took him out in a pizzeria not too long ago because he got his panties in a bunch over Shaye disappearing from Nico’s radar while our common enemy-slash-psychopathic family rival Luca Cappodamo was still on the loose. I’d have paid boatloads to be a fly on the wall watching that scene play out. Kat putting Rocco in a chokehold… that’s entertainment money can’t fucking buy.

  And these days, I need all the laughs I can get.

  “Hello, boys.” Kat sticks a hand on her hip, and it’s hard not to stare. I don’t want to fuck her…I think she’d be pretty brutal in the sack considering the fact that she’s a Russian mafia princess who is as lethal as an ice pick to the brain. But, damn.

  No wonder why Rocco has had a hard-on for her ever since she showed up here in Jersey. That boner is oozing off of him whenever she’s within sight. He denies it, but we all know better.

  So does Kat. I think she likes the challenge. I bet she’s into some really fucking kinky shit, too. One day, she’s gonna ball-gag and anal plug him, and I might ask for some blackmail pictures.

  Immediately, all talk of his new car screeches to a stop, and not a second too soon.

  I really don’t give a shit about his speakers.

  Kat’s lips curl upward when her blue eyes land on Rocco. “No date tonight, huh? You don’t want to mess up the leather in your new ride?”

  Rocco reclines on the couch and throws an arm behind him. He’s trying not to look like he’s trying too hard.

  And failing miserably. If I can see how badly he wants to launch himself at Kat, and I’m a guy, she must have sensed it from across the bar. But still, she came over.

  Maybe she’s tired of the vodka-soaked Russians, and she wants to sample the Italian sausage.

  Speaking of sausage, I’m fucking starving. I don’t want to be here. I’d rather be at home in front of the television eating a pizza. I grab a beer from the ice bucket and rise from the couch since Rocco’s ass is still plastered to the seat. I nudge Kat toward the empty spot. “If you’re not drunk enough to sit there, help yourself to the scotch. It’ll make him easier to swallow.”

  She cocks an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  I shrug. “You never know where things might lead. I don’t judge.”

  “You shouldn’t.” Kat leans closer, whispering into my ear. “But I do judge, and you’re a real asshat.” I follow her gaze until I see where it lands. My throat tightens. Damn Shaye and Nico. They planned this whole fucking thing.

  Sloane is now sitting on the couch next to my leather-clad sister and their heads are bent together, mouths going a mile a minute. My cock twitches as I catch an uncharacteristic glimpse of Sloane’s upper thigh, and I will her to stand up so I can drink in every inch of her body, which, from what I can tell, is poured into an outfit that onl
y makes me want to tear it off of her.

  She must have borrowed it from Shaye, and if I had anything to say about it, it’d be balled up on my bedroom floor in a hot second.

  “Let me guess.” Kat takes a gulp of the clear liquid in her glass, her eyes as alert as I’d ever seen them. Her tolerance is insane, courtesy of her daily vodka diet. “You’re looking, drooling, wondering how the hell you messed up so badly. Am I right?”

  “It’s complicated,” I grumble, unable to tear my eyes away.

  “Isn’t it always?” Kat smirks. “And do you think this badass, brooding older brother routine is going to get you another shot? Even though the only way Shaye could get her here tonight was to promise her that you’d be very far away?”

  I turn toward Kat, jaw set. “I’m not looking for another shot.”

  “Aren’t you?” Her dark red lips curl upward. “She’s a catch, Max. Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

  “We’re just friends, that’s all. Her choice, by the way. Besides, it wouldn’t work. I’m not the right guy for her.”

  “Why? Are you still looking to dip your wick into these disease-infested whores?” Kat waves a hand around her. “Are you addicted to pussy, Max? Is that what’s holding you back? Because your sorry ass is sitting here listening to another dude tell you all about what’s under his engine, rather than finding out what’s under hers.”

  Good Christ, she’s a crass bitch. “Listen, Kat. I don’t see how who I fuck is any of your goddamn business. I can’t give Sloane what she needs, and that’s the end of it. Friendship is all I can offer her. And judging by the way everyone is laying into me tonight, I’m not doing too great on that front.”

  Kat jingles the ice cubes in her empty glass. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing your mind realizes you’re not man enough to be what she needs.” She leans closer. “But I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that your cock is singing a different tune right about now. Tsk-tsk. Nobody filled him in, huh?” She gives me a little finger wave and twirls around, swinging her hips as she walks…right past Rocco.

  His face falls faster than a dick that just shot a massive load. I roll my eyes. Jesus, is she ever tormenting him. I always knew she was some kind of masochist.