Chapter 21
ANTONIO
The thing about being in my position, you have to be on guard every minute of every day. I have allies and I have enemies. Friends are few and far between. When my wife was murdered, I knew in the pit of my stomach it was done by someone close, but eighteen years later, I still don’t know who.
The day I watched my wife’s coffin be lowered six feet into the ground, I vowed I would find out who was responsible, and when I do, they’ll beg me to send them to Hell before I’m finished with them.
The tragedy of her death taught me to pay attention to everything around me: scenery, body language, conversations. I have to be able to recognize the monsters that lurk in the shadows. The everyday thug perched against a brick wall on a street corner, smoking a joint and waiting out his time to mug a passerby. The street punk trying to offload mommy’s prescription meds for a couple of bucks.
I’ve practically made a profession out of spotting the people that go unnoticed every day, so when I whiz by a shitty apartment building in a rundown, almost dilapidated part of Queens, I know instantly who the girl sitting on a set of brick steps is.
My tires screech, burning rubber as my body lurches forward, only held back by the strap preventing me from slamming into the steering wheel. Out of reflex, my right arm flies out, connecting with my son’s chest to prevent him from getting hurt, even though he too is already secured by a seatbelt.
“Jesus, Dad. What the fuck?” Domenico’s voice rushes out in shock. It’s mere seconds for my son—my most trusted associate—to take in my expression and then act on it, preparing for the worst.
Dom’s seatbelt releases, and before I can blink, he pulls his Glock from the inside of his suit jacket, all while his eyes are looking three hundred and sixty degrees around the vehicle, searching for the threat. “Put the weapon away, Domenico.” I order, putting the car in park in the middle of the road. Unbuckling, I open the driver’s side door and climb out of my Maserati. I turn upon its closure, looking over the roof at the rundown apartment building as I button my suit jacket.
The passenger side door opens as I stare at the child that caught my attention, her elbows on her knees with her chin resting in her palms.
“If there isn’t a threat then why did you brake so goddamn hard?” Dom asks, eyeing me over the roof of the car. “Why’d you stop here?” he continues.
I nod my head in the girl’s direction and answer his question. He’ll either recognize her, or he won’t. Either way, this is something Domenico needs to learn if he’s going to step into my shoes one of these days; not that it’s what I want for him, but at the same time, I know it’s inevitable.
Walking to the rear of my car, I round the vehicle and step toward the curb, stalking to where she’s remained seated in the same spot, oblivious to the dangers around her.
If that dumbass is responsible for his little girl being in this neighborhood, I swear to God it’ll be the last mistake he ever makes. Prostitution, drug deals, fucking drive-bys are a daily occurrence around here. This is no place for any kid—girl or boy, young or even ones in their teens.
I stop at the bottom of the stairs. Seconds of silence pass before her blue eyes glance up. “What are you doing out here alone?” I ask as Dom stops next to me.
She’s on the second to the last step from the top of the concrete stairs but still has to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. “Waiting,” she whispers.
“Waiting for who?” My question comes out harsher than I meant for it to.
“Mommy,” she replies. I hate to admit it, but relief floods my body, relaxing my shoulders at her admission.
The champ will live another day.
“And where is your mother, Brooklyn?”
“In there.” She turns, looking over her shoulder at the closed door. It’s a four-story building, so ‘in there’ could be any of at least fifty or more doors.
“Do you know which apartment number?” She shakes her head. “Do you know what floor?”
“Second. She told me to just play outside and she wouldn’t be long, but it’s been a long time and there’s nothing to do out here.”
I start to open my mouth to tell Dom to escort the girl to my car, but before the order is out, he steps to the stairs, taking them two at a time, and then disappears inside the apartment building. When there is dirty work—blood spilling that must be handled—I prefer to stain my own hands. My children were never supposed to be involved in that manner. I made a vow to my firstborn, the first words uttered out of my mouth upon a nurse placing him in my arms that I would change my family and the families of those who answer to me. I would change the world for the better. I wouldn’t allow my children to follow in our family’s past mistakes. I wouldn’t let them spill the blood of the innocent or taint their own flesh with the greed of my father’s generation and his father and so on.
Things were supposed to be different for my wife and children. I’ve tried to keep them innocent for as long as I can, but everything I set out to accomplish on the day Domenico was born hasn’t happened yet. That hope, that dream, seems to dwindle more and more as each year passes.
I sigh out a long breath as I stare down at the brown-haired little girl. She reminds me of Sienna when she was that age. There’s spunk in this kid. I saw it last weekend when she tripped me, and for whatever reason, that little act of bravery and defiance earned her a spot inside of my chest that I thought was already filled to the brim with my late wife’s memory and my lively three kids.
“Come here, Brooklyn.” I open my arms and bend downward. She scrambles to her feet and is down the steps in seconds. Gathering her in my arms, I place her on my hip. “We’re going to teach your father a lesson on who he leaves his daughter in the care of.”
A lesson I’m sure he’s not going to react well to.
But it’s one he’s better off learning now, from me, rather than later with a much different outcome. Anyone could have come along and taken this child, and no one would be the wiser, which is exactly what I’m doing, but with me, Matteo will get his daughter back.
A shudder runs down my spine, making me grip Brooklyn tighter at the mere thought that anyone else could have seen her sitting alone with no parent in sight. Being a father, those what if questions have haunted me for over twenty-five years. I still imagine worst-case scenarios all the time, even though my three children are adults.
“Where is your mom’s car?” I ask the girl. There’s a parking lot on the other side of the street across from the apartment building, and I’m guessing that’s where the tenants park; although, the lot is sparse, lacking many vehicles.
“Some man left in it,” she answers.
Fucking figures, I silently think, shaking my head. I was going to retrieve the booster seat so that Brooklyn is properly secured in my car, but that’s not happening. Guess Dom will just have to sit in the back with her.
Reaching into the pocket of my trousers, I grab my key fob and then press the unlock button, before reaching for the backdoor on the driver’s side, pulling it open. “What’s your name, Mister?”
“It’s Tony,” I say, ducking inside and setting her gently on the leather seat. “But you can call me Grandpa, sweetheart.” I offer a warm smile, hoping to put her at ease, but then realize there’s no need. She isn’t scared or searching for her mother at all. If anything, she’s excited that I’m taking her away from this place.
That’s another thing I’m going to have to have a chat about with Matteo. She should be kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs right now, but she isn’t. She’s perfectly content allowing a stranger to kidnap her, and that’s unacceptable.
Chapter 22
SIENNA
“Why are you so pissy today? Huh?” I drop my phone on my lap and roll my head left, eyeing the side of Ren’s face as he drives. “You look like shit. You haven’t shown up for any training session this week and I know you haven’t gotten home before three in the morning this
whole month. What’s up, Ren?”
“You ever thought about minding your own business?” He glances at me, taking his eyes off the road to drive his point home. He doesn’t want to talk. Well, too bad. It’s high time for him to spill his guts. He’s hiding something. I know he is. He’s the secretive one out of the three of us. I may have been good at playing plain Jane, but I only did it at the demand of my father after our mother was killed. Ren has been secretive for as far back as I can remember. Domenico and I get enjoyment out of making him tell us things.
“All I do is mind my own business. It just so happens that you are one of my businesses, brother.” He’s my twin. Everything he does is on a need-to-know basis with me.
“Lay off, Si.” This is where he and Dom differ. Domenico is harsh and barks out orders. Lorenzo is more laid back, though today he is far from relaxed. Something is bothering him. He’s angry, but he looks like he’s brooding. Only Dom and I know him well enough to tell the difference.
“Not until you come clean and tell me what’s going on with you. Who are you mad at, for starters?”
“Maybe school is getting to me. We all have our bad days. Today is mine.”
“School isn’t getting to you, you little liar. You just don’t want to tell me. Why is that? What are you hiding that you can’t tell your best friend, Ren?” I cross my arms, staring at the side of his face. “I tell you everything.” My tone comes out accusing, which is exactly how I feel. I’m just not sure what I’m accusing him of.
“You ever think that maybe you tell me too much? Being as I’m your brother.”
“Don’t pull that B.S. We shared a womb. There is no such thing as TMI between us. Now tell me what it is that’s bothering you, or who is bothering you, and I’ll kick their ass for you.”
“You know, you’re bound to meet your match one of these days. Someone besides Dom and me is going to whoop your ass.” He doesn’t look at me. He just continues to stare out the windshield as he pulls through the open gate at the entrance of our neighborhood.
“Until then . . .” I nod, sounding cocky, but I know he’s right. I’m not the badass I try to portray. I know there are stronger, more skilled fighters than me. Plenty more in fact. I’m way down the list on badassery.
“Yeah, well, just make sure I’m there so I can witness it.”
“Oh, bite me,” I bark back. Crossing my arms over my chest, I look forward, pursing my lips. I don’t know what’s crawled up Ren’s ass, but I’m not going to take the brunt of his anger. I got next to zero sleep this morning after I got home. Instead of canceling with my trainer, I still managed to get to the gym, where I knew what would happen; I got my butt kicked and I still have the aches and bruises to show for it. I’m tired. I’m not up for dealing with my brother’s problems. “I simply wanted to know what, or who, is keeping you from your normal training routine. You’ve always preferred to get it in before the gym is crawling with people.”
“No. You do. I just drag my ass with you because that’s what time you want to train with Caesar. Then I go back in the late afternoon or evenings so I can get a real workout in when I’m actually awake and functioning like a human.”
“No one ever said you had to go to the gym with me at five every morning. If you don’t like it, then sleep.”
“Dad doesn’t like you going there alone. He’d beat my ass if Dom wasn’t going in my place.”
“Are you for real right now?” Before the question exits my mouth, I know the answer. Of course, Tony Caputo would make sure one of my brothers escorts me like I need a fucking babysitter and can’t take care of myself. “Fucking Dad!” I seethe.
When are the men in my life going to realize I can handle my own damn self perfectly fine? I’m more than capable of handling me. What the fuck do I have to do to prove that to them?
“There is nothing to prove, Si.” Lorenzo sighs after doing his twin mind reading thing as he pulls into the driveway, parking his Range Rover behind Dom’s SUV. “He’s always going to keep a tighter leash on you. He’s not going to chance what happened to Mo—”
I reach for the door handle, bolting out of the vehicle before Ren finishes his statement. I’m not our mother. I don’t need to be handled with special care. It’s why Dad put us in self-defense and martial arts classes. He wanted us to be prepared for anything and anyone.
Slamming the door, I head toward the front of the house, not waiting on my brother. His door closes soon after. It only takes a few seconds before I feel his presence behind me. “It is what it is, Si. Just accept it.”
I don’t respond. His comment only further pisses me off, but I don’t get the chance to reply with a snarky comeback. Squealing tires coming to a stop halt my movement before I reach for the front door. Turning, I watch Matteo throw the driver’s side door open, before exiting his Lexus.
“Didn’t you see enough of him last night?” Ren blows out a breath, fanning my hair, before opening the front door of our house. “Get rid of him before Dad finds out he’s here.”
I follow my brother, but stop inside the doorway, planning to do just that. Matteo doesn’t take no for an answer well. I’m not going out with him. Sure, I want to, and he was right, I am attracted to him, but I knew that was obvious years ago. Why should I make it easy for him now?
“You’re wasting your time if you’re here to ask me out again.” I brace my elbow against the doorframe, placing my other hand on my hip. As Matteo jogs up the steps, I realize he’s seething. He’s pissed.
He doesn’t slow his stride as he nears me, and I’m about to step backward when he snags my bicep in his hand, squeezing his fingers around my bare skin. Pushing me inside my house, he wears a murderous expression. “Where is Brooklyn?!”
Chapter 23
MATTEO
She stumbles, but I place my free hand on her hip to steady her. Sienna tries to snatch her arm from my grasp, but her attempt to get free is futile. I have her, and she isn’t getting away from me unless I allow it.
A cold, sharp blade of metal presses against my throat before Si opens her mouth. “I suggest you take your hands off my sister before I make you choke on your own fucking blood.” Ren’s breath is hot next to my ear. I don’t blink or acknowledge his presence or even the knife biting into my skin.
“Why would I have any idea where your kid is, Matteo?” Sienna lashes back, her cheeks flushing with anger. Until right now, I’ve enjoyed witnessing the fury in her dark eyes and the fire that’s housed inside her irises ready to be released on a moment’s notice. Part of me finds it cute, sexy even, but all I care about right this minute is finding my daughter and pulling her into my arms where I know she is safe. I’ll go through anyone I have to, even the beauty standing before me, her brothers and her father included.
“If you don’t heed my brother’s suggestion, it’s not your blood you’re going to be choking on. You’ll be dead before one drop leaks from your skull.” The barrel of Dom’s gun jams into my temple.
“Where. Is. My—”
“Your daughter is in the boss’s office. She’s fine, but I can’t promise the same thing about you if you don’t take your hands off my sister,” Dom issues a threat, his voice deep, lethal.
“What’s Brooklyn doing in Dad’s office?” Sienna’s anger settles into confusion. Her eyes leave mine to peer at her eldest brother. She didn’t know Brooklyn was here. That revelation soothes something inside me. My grip on her loosens, my vision finally expanding to more than just her face, and it’s now I realize how tight my fingers were wrapped around her arms.
“That’s between De Salvo and the boss. Stay out of it,” he tells her.
My hands fall away from her, dropping to my sides. I see the red marks I left on her, and on the inside I cringe, not believing I’m the one who caused them, but I school my features, not prepared to show any of them something they can perceive as a weakness. Sienna’s brows furrow like she can see the inner turmoil raging inside me.
“My daugh
ter,” I bite out through clenched teeth. Domenico retracts the weapon, and suddenly I’m able to breathe again. It’s impossible to mask the relief my chest visibly shows.
“Come on, big guy.” She reaches forward, tugging the material of my T-shirt. “I’ll take you to my dad.” When I don’t move, her gaze snaps to her twin. “Back off, Ren.”
He didn’t remove his blade when Dom removed the barrel of this gun from my head. Instead, the metal digs deeper into my skin, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to turn on him. I can take Ren. I’m even certain I could remove his knife from my throat without getting nicked, but I won’t be quicker than a bullet should Dom decide to pull the trigger. I have my daughter to think about, so I stand stock still, my eyes remaining locked with the mafia princess’s.
“Make a habit of hurting my sister and I’ll do the same to someone you love, De Salvo. Only my marks won’t fade away as if they never happened. My marks scar.” He steps back, pulling the knife with him. The sting of the blade slicing through my skin burns. The pain is minimal. I’m used to pain, to my flesh splitting. I’m not looking into a mirror, but I doubt the cut is deep.
Sienna’s gaze falls to where blood leaks from the wound. Her eyes flash the same as they did when I watched Ren do this to her last week. She has a fascination with violence, making me wonder what all she’s been subjected to growing up, and what she is still subjected to.
I need to get my kid the fuck out of here.
I always thought my mom overreacted when I’d hear stories about how she only agreed to marry my dad if he walked away from his family, if he left the Mafia behind. Not that he was deep in it. His oldest brother became the head of the De Salvo family when my grandfather was killed. My dad once told me that seeing his father lying in an alley, shot to death was a defining moment in his life. He didn’t want to be part of that world, so when my mom gave him an ultimatum, he welcomed it. He embraced it and never looked back.
Bad Princess: A Mafia Romance Page 13
