Marrying the Mobster: American Gangsters 1 (Leave Me Breathless)

by Victoria Vale

  “Good,” I tell her, gripping her neck and pulling her down so I can kiss her lips. “Because I’m going to … practice on you for the rest of our trip. Every morning, every night. Lunchtime, too.”

  She laughs, and the sounds melts into another moan, her legs shaking on either side of me as she approaches climax. “I like the sound of that.”

  I grip Elena’s hips and drive up into her one last time, coming at the exact same time she does. We cling to each other, shaking sharing panted breaths as I pump my hips and give her every drop of my finish.

  “So do I, gatita.”

  PLAYLIST

  Listen on Spotify!

  Gangsta by Kehlani

  Heartless by The Weeknd

  Hit of You by Paloma Ford

  Put it On Me by Matt Maeson

  Sweat by ZAYN

  Love is a Bitch by Two Feet

  High by Whethan and Dua Lipa

  Woman by Emmit Fenn

  Skin by Rihanna

  …Fuck by Johnny Rain

  Do it For Me by Rosenfeld

  Alone With You by Ashlee

  Boys Like You by Tanerélle

  P.U.S.S.Y. by Johnny Rain

  The High by Kelela

  Sirens by Nylo

  Use Me by Makk Mikkael

  100% by Goldilox

  Safety Net by Ariana Grande (Feat. Ty Dolla $ign)

  Be Your Love by Bishop Briggs

  Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï

  Twisted by Two Feet

  King by Niykee Heaton

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  BREAKING DONATELLA

  A Black Rose Collection Novel

  by Raisa Greywood

  CHAPTER 1

  Cristian

  “I’d very much like to do this peacefully,” I said, sipping from a delicate porcelain cup of espresso. “Life is too short to war, yes?”

  We both knew I was giving Giuseppe Rossi the courtesy of bowing out peacefully and without the extermination of the last of his family. That was better than he’d given any of his rivals, yet I didn’t want this to end in bloodshed. Nor did I care to dismantle his entire operation and start from scratch.

  Dying of cancer, he scowled at me from his hospital bed surrounded by machines keeping him alive. The opulent ground floor room must have been his study in the past, and still contained priceless art and shelves full of books, along with a large mahogany desk pushed in a corner.

  I might not fear him, but he wasn’t a man to be taken lightly. His legal businesses were worth a fortune, yet it was the assets on the other side of the ethical divide I was most interested in.

  “You’ll take everything whether I agree or not,” he rasped softly, sucking air from an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth.

  “I will, but if you agree to make me your heir, your lovely wife will be cared for, and I will leave her inheritance intact.” I strode to the nightstand and touched a photo of Mariana Rossi, still beautiful despite her years and a vulnerable target. In fact, she was in the kitchen overseeing the preparation of our lunch. “She’ll be treated as if she was my own mother for the rest of her days.”

  “You would bring my wife into our business?”

  “I have never once broken a vow, Signore Rossi. You should know that better than anyone. When I say she will be cared for, it will happen if I have to wrap her in cotton wool myself. Of course, the opposite is true as well.”

  He paled, but kept his face impassive, not mistaking my unspoken threat for anything else. I’d let him worry about it, but his wife would remain safe regardless of his decision. My late, unlamented father would have already had her executed. I preferred not to involve innocents if I could help it.

  Mariana was the one thing for which I envied him. What must it be like to have such a woman, obedient and devoted to me? One who I could take at will. I didn’t want any of the dozens of women clamoring for space in my bed for the chance at wealth and privilege.

  None of them appealed to me. I needed a woman strong enough to bear the weight of the Moretti name, but who would also bow to my wishes.

  Giuseppe had no living sons to block my path, but he did have a granddaughter. She’d been barely seven the last time I’d seen her, and had a brilliant toothless smile and eyes like the Mediterranean on a cloudless day.

  Would she still be as sweet and innocent as I remembered?

  I pushed the thought away. There was no time for such foolishness. Marriage to her would make me Giuseppe’s heir in truth. Gathering my thoughts, I said, “Your granddaughter, Donatella. I will marry her to legitimize my claim.”

  “You know perfectly well your father ordered a hit on Donatella and her mother twenty years ago,” he replied, closing his eyes to give a remarkable impression of grief. “Get out of my house.”

  He was either lying, or truly wasn’t aware Donatella was alive. Someone had hidden them very well in the United States under assumed names, although Lelia Rossi died of cancer when Donatella was in college.

  “My apologies.” I inclined my head and followed the maid from the room.

  I considered telling him I’d already found her, but decided to hold my peace. There would be time enough to give him the rest of my demands when I caught up to her.

  Aside from his granddaughter, Giuseppe would give me the Bride Collar.

  Created by a master jeweler in the sixteenth century, the Bride Collar was a priceless symbol of domination over an enemy. Traditionally, it would have been placed around the neck of the defeated opponent’s most desirable female relative, who would then become the property of the victor. It was meant to be the final shaming blow to the losing family.

  It would be especially appropriate in this case. The last woman to wear the Collar had been a Moretti, given to a Rossi as tribute after a battle in 1820. He’d turned her into a whore, then had her beheaded when one of her clients impregnated her.

  Of course, that was the traditional way to remove the Bride Collar. Fortunately for Donatella, that wouldn’t be her fate. I wasn’t interested in the Collar’s history. I simply wanted Giuseppe to think about what I might do to his granddaughter while she wore it.

  It took me almost a month to run Donatella to ground, and it was the last place I’d have expected.

  “What are they doing, sir?” Tomas Lupo, my second, asked. I had to strain to hear him over the deafening crowd noise.

  “I believe they call it roller derby,” I replied mildly, shifting in the unfamiliar T-shirt and jeans I’d worn instead of one of my customary suits. Tomas looked just as uncomfortable as I was, but the disguise was necessary.

  The ability to be surprised by my soon-to-be wife had been knocked out of me. Between traveling all over the globe so she could climb El Capitan, BASE jumping in Colorado, scuba diving with sharks in the Caribbean, surfing in Australia, and this…

  Was the woman trying to kill herself?

  She wasn’t hiding at all. Oh, no. My future wife was an adventure blogger and television personality of some renown. She traveled the world looking for her next adrenaline rush and had no fixed address.

  Locating her was one thing. Getting her to stand still long enough to catch her was something else. Worse, we’d had to wait until she finished a modeling contract with a sporting goods company. I couldn’t have people looking for her while I prepared her for our wedding.

  She still had the same magically infectious smile, and her eyes were as blue as I remembered. Yet her silky brown hair was shaved into a pink mohawk and she wore thick makeup with sparkly false eyelashes. Both arms had full sleeve tattoos, and she had a nose piercing. Instead of a pampered Italian princess, she looked like an exotic bird.

  Or maybe a vicious street fighter. I winced as she elbowed another skater, s
ending the hapless woman flying. Waving cheerfully, she took her place in the penalty box with a happy grin of satisfaction.

  Easily topping six feet in her skates, her body was lean and elegant like a dancer’s, but surprisingly curvaceous in a tight pair of black spandex leggings and a glittery sports bra. My cock thickened as I imagined subduing her to my will.

  I needed a legitimate heir to fully cement my position as head of both our families. Who better to provide one than a Rossi daughter? Between us, our children’s bloodlines would be impeccable. Despite her odd hair and extensive ink, she was lovely. Impregnating her would be no hardship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  Aside from the legacy we’d create and her gorgeous appearance, she fascinated me. I’d never seen anyone quite like her before. As a child, she’d been an entrancing fairy who darted out of my life as quickly as she’d appeared. As a grown woman, Donatella was stunning, both for her natural beauty and her obvious joy.

  What must it be like to have no care for anything except chasing happiness? I shook the thought away. That part of her life was over.

  My exotic bird was about to have her wings clipped and a band placed around her ankle. After tonight, her sole purpose would be to please me.

  When she returned from the locker room, she sprawled in a chair in street clothes, legs akimbo as she inhaled a massive platter of chicken wings, a cheeseburger, and a serving of chili cheese fries. I couldn’t get over how much food she put away. The women I’d dated in the past subsisted on lettuce and the occasional apple, and watching Donatella take such enjoyment from her food stirred my cock into readiness.

  The false eyelashes and heavy makeup had been washed away, making her look sweet and very young. She seemed well-liked and chatted easily with her teammates.

  “Is everything ready?” I asked Tomas, thankful the screaming crowds had dispersed.

  “Yes, Signore.” He jerked his chin toward a server carrying a tray filled with plastic cups of beer. “He’s already been paid to give her the right drink. I’ve collected her belongings and gotten rid of the rental she was driving.”

  “What was in it?”

  “Video equipment and computers, plus a small suitcase of cheap casual clothes.”

  I nodded, unsurprised by what he described. Donatella didn’t strike me as a woman with excessive material desires. “Is the jet on standby?”

  “Yes. We’ll have your bride secured within the hour.”

  Ella

  “Here’s to Paindemonium!” my temporary teammates shouted, shotgunning their beers. Mine was long gone, but another was pressed into my hand for the toast. We’d already changed in the locker room, and I was more than glad to get rid of the hard-shell protective sports bra. I must have gone through half a dozen makeup wipes to get rid of the heavy theatrical paint. One good look at the filthy shower meant I still reeked, but I’d be able to clean up soon enough.

  “Thanks for letting me skate with you,” I replied. “I had a really good time.”

  The assignment had come at the last minute to fill some airtime. I’d normally have had at least one cameraperson, but there hadn’t been time to find one. I’d gotten plenty of good footage by myself though, and just needed to complete preliminary edits before sending it off.

  “When will our show be done?” Rosebleed asked. Blonde and buxom, she looked like a kindergarten teacher. Unsurprising, since that was her day job. Her real name was Melody, and she had a house, a husband, and two children. She even had a picket fence.

  “Yeah,” Faith, AKA The Italian Battalion said, stealing one of my hot wings. “We’re going to be famous now.”

  “At the end of next month.” I took another sip of beer, then set it aside. Derby was a lot harder than it looked, and I was so tired all of a sudden. Alcohol after a hard workout always made me crash and burn, and I still had to drive back to my motel. “I’m taking the next few weeks off to write the narration and edit video, then everything has to be sent back to the producer to put it all together.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Melody finished her beer and grinned. “I can’t wait to show my kids.”

  Grabbing her gear plus the equipment she’d loaned me, Marilyn Monsoon, whose name was actually Marilyn, groaned and got to her feet. “I gotta scoot, guys. My ex has to work an early shift tomorrow, so I need to be up to get the rugrats before he leaves.”

  “Co-parenting for the win,” Cindy, AKA Magnum Special, replied. “I’m off tomorrow. Need some help?”

  “Sure. Bring your kids. We’ll toss them in the pool and make a day of it. I even have a few bottles of wine and stuff for a cookout.”

  “Can the rest of us crash?” someone asked. “We’ll bring booze and food.”

  “Of course. The more, the merrier.” Marilyn bent to give me a quick hug. “I know you’re going to be busy, but you’re welcome too. It’ll give us a chance to talk you into staying with the team. You’re brilliant for a newbie, even if you have no idea where your elbows are.”

  “Thanks! I appreciate the offer,” I replied, laughing at the compliment. “I wish I could take you up on it, but I need to get to work.”

  A party sounded fun. Then again, I didn’t want to get too attached. With a last name like Rossi, it didn’t pay to develop friendships. Although Mom and I had hidden our true identities for years, I wasn’t willing to risk my new friends’ lives on it.

  My mother had never opened up about what had scared her badly enough to leave Italy, but I’d done some research of my own after she died. Lelia and Donatella Rossi were buried in a Naples cemetery after being killed in a car accident. We were Lisa and Ella Rose, and she’d drilled me for hours to make sure I never forgot it.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Ella Rose.”

  “And your grandparents?”

  “They died before I was born. My daddy died in a fire.”

  “What do you do if someone tries to hurt you?”

  “Run away?”

  “If you can, yes. If you can’t… Do whatever it takes to hurt them back.”

  And the most important rule of all… If I ever heard the names Rossi or Moretti, I was to run like all the hounds of Hell were chasing me. She’d had a go-bag packed with cash and prepaid debit cards, two very illegal Canadian passports, and clothes at all times. We might have gone hungry now and then, but she never once touched that money.

  Still, there was no sense tempting fate. If I could trace the threads, so could someone else, and judging by what I’d found, it was worth my life. I hid in plain sight—the mohawk and full sleeves doing more to distance me than anything else. My hair hadn’t been brown in years, and being in the public eye somehow made me feel safer. Even the Moretti family, as vicious as they were, wouldn’t dare touch a television personality.

  Waving their goodbyes, the ladies walked out, leaving me alone with my unfinished beer. They all had amazing lives outside of derby, and it didn’t seem to matter that they were on opposing teams. Sure, they had their problems. Rachel was just out of an abusive marriage, and joined the derby to learn how to stand up to her douchebag ex. Cindy was a single parent of three whose father didn’t pay child support.

  These women had built a family of their own together. I admired that. Maybe I could… No, my feet were already itching to move, and I was stuck in south Florida for at least three more weeks until I finished editing a month’s worth of footage. It was as good a place as any to hole up and work, and there weren’t many distractions. I didn’t have funding approved to find another gig until this one was done.

  Weren’t there underwater caves somewhere close? I made a note on my phone to check it out for a future show, then yawned and rubbed my bleary eyes. Club staff were already eyeing me, waiting not so patiently for me to get moving so they could clean.

  “Sorry,” I called. “I was off in my own little world.”

  I stood, then stumbled when my head swam. Yikes. I grabbed my camera gear, then trudged outside, meanin
g to sit in my car until the alcohol cleared my system. Weird. I hadn’t even had that much to drink. Maybe I was more tired than I’d thought.

  Unfortunately, when I got outside, my car was gone. It was a rental, so I didn’t care about that, but my life was in the trunk, including my cameras and laptops. My footage and notes were on the cloud, although my producer wasn’t going to be happy about having to replace twenty grand worth of equipment.

  The only thing I had was the video camera and tripod I’d used to record tonight’s bout. I had my wallet and ID too, but my passport and international driving permit had been in my computer bag.

  “God damn it!” Suddenly defeated, I let my legs buckle and collapsed, falling to my butt on the warm asphalt.

  “Are you all right?” a man asked. His voice was soft and husky, with a faint Italian accent.

  I should have been more wary, given who my grandfather was, but my head was so thick and muzzy. My vision blurry, I looked up into the dark eyes of one gorgeous hunk of man wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt. His jaw was covered by scruff, but it was neatly groomed and trimmed, as was his mahogany hair. He was also very tall and had the most beautiful long-fingered hands.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, I relaxed. My grandfather’s enemies didn’t appear in public wearing jeans. Neither did his associates, for that matter. Sometimes it was hard to tell the two apart. Past me had loved the old coot with everything I had because he was the purveyor of hugs, sweets, and pony rides. Present me was a little wiser.

  “Yes, thank you. My rental car was stolen, so I need to call the police, then get an Uber.” I yawned again, then had to resist the urge to lie down. I managed to stand up, but nearly fell when my legs refused to support my weight. The man caught me, holding me easily against his chest. He smelled like sunshine and whiskey. Yum. He was the exact perfect height too. My head barely topped his shoulder, making it a wonderful place to rest my numb face.