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

by Victoria Vale

  ~ Markus Zuzak

  Caprice

  My father has done a lot of things to me, things that I can’t ever quite understand. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he doesn’t give a damn about me. I’m only one thing for him – a tool. The only value I have is in the fact that I’m a woman. There is nothing else for me besides whoever it is that he tries to pawn me off too. My father had no problem tossing me in the direction of his business associates before. I was their small treat after he closed a deal, or maybe I was part of the deal. Some days I think about it and then I realize I don’t think I’ll ever know.

  My brothers will have the privilege of inheriting the mafia after he dies. Although I do wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse. My bet is on the latter.

  It’s obvious that I’m not a fan of my famiglia. They may be my blood, but they don’t treat me like family. My brothers treat me the same as our father does. When it comes to my mother, she barely looks at me. I think that’s because she’s too ashamed of the fact she doesn’t stand up to my father. But who would dare to speak up to Signore DiGiovanni? Any person who does is immediately shot down, and no, that isn’t a metaphor or an exaggeration.

  I hate the way that I’m treated but I’ll take every minute of agony if it means that my little sister, Alessandra, doesn’t have to endure the same horrors. Sometimes when I lay awake in the middle of the night all I can occupy my time with is wondering about when my father will force her to make the same sacrifices I do.

  I’m in New York right now at my friend Angelina’s apartment on the Upper East Side. Her father owns a massive cybersecurity company, but also caters to the famiglia’s physical needs as well. She’s the apple of her father’s eye, his absolute pride and joy. Growing up I had always looked at their relationship with jealousy, or maybe it was a longing feeling. Either way, I craved the sort of affection that I had witnessed Angelina get when we were children. Even now, well into our mid-twenties, her father showers her with love. I’ve accepted that I’ll never have anything close to it with my own.

  All I want to do is get up and leave, to abandon my family and the things that tie me to it. The only thing that they bring me is misery, or more specifically my father does. My brothers are close behind him on that train, though. I’m only here to protect Alessandra, and that’s it. I want her to come with me, to leave this place, to go anywhere. The only way we could ever escape my father’s clutches is if we disappear to someplace that no one knows us. My only problem is that she doesn’t see him in the same light that I do. That’s only because she’s a naïve seventeen-year-old girl who hasn’t been thrown into the bloodied trenches.

  The only reason she’s escaped is that I’ve protected her, and she doesn’t even see it. She wants to believe that our father is a good man and while I want to allow her to keep that innocence— I can’t let her believe in a fairytale. Our father is not a good person. There was a time that I had been like her and believed it, but those years have gone and past. I see him for what he is now.

  He did something horrific to me that has made me view him in an entirely different light. Alessandra has no idea of the atrocities he is guilty of, and I’m not talking about the deaths or his bad dealings. I don’t care about any of that. The only thing I care about is what he’s done to me and will do to my dear sister, and what he’s already done to my daughter. I haven’t seen her in over five years. She was ripped from my hands the day she was born and given straight to her father— Rafael Ramirez. It wasn’t a tale of love for Rafael and I. No, I was a gift given to him after my father and he had struck a deal. It’s always the same. My father tosses me to his associates as a reward. He acts as if my body isn’t my own and it belongs to the famiglia. It doesn’t, and I won’t ever allow it to.

  “When are you and Alessandra leaving?” Angelina asks, eyes peering up in a concerned gaze.

  I sigh because I haven’t uttered a word of it to my sister. I’m simply taking her in a rush and hoping we get far enough away to where my father won’t find us. “Tomorrow.”

  “Is your plan solid?”

  I nod. “As solid as it can be. I have new passports for us with brand new names, had the photos altered so our hair colors are different. You know our deal,” I remind her, smiling. “I can’t tell you anything because we know he’ll ask you what I’m doing and where I am. He’ll try to use you as a way to get to me and it’s safer for everyone involved if I don’t say anything.”

  Angelina shrugs. “I know. I just wish things were different. I wish my best friend wasn’t carting herself and her sister off to God knows where. I just . . . wish I could know something.”

  I start to open my mouth but am cut off by Angelina. “But I can’t.”

  I nod, looking down at the floor. This breaks my heart into a million pieces, leaving the only person who has ever known me for who I am. The only person who really gives a damn on what happens to me. “I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

  “You have to leave. Your father made an arrangement with Sergei Kolosov. There is no choice in the matter. I will not allow you to stay here and marry this monster, who does nothing but hurt the women he is with. I told you what he did to his last wife.” Bella had told me a week ago, when my “engagement” to Sergei was announced, of the rumors. Apparently, he had forced an abortion on his last wife, a woman who he had been trying to have a child with for years.

  I will not be married to Sergei, and I’ll say that to him straight to his face if he ever meets me. I will not bear children for him. I already have a child, a daughter named Piper and as soon as I am in Ireland and settled, I plan on taking her from her father.

  I don’t know how but I will get my daughter back.

  CHAPTER 1

  “If the mafia replaced the government we’d probably have half the corruption and twice the fun.”

  ~ LibertyManiacs

  Liam

  “Liam, your father needs to speak with you immediately,” Maeve informs me. She’s an enigma, many different things mixed into one. She’s the boss bitch, manages the entire household staff, gardeners, and much more. She’s well into her nineties and has worked for the Mackenzie family since she was a young girl. When I was a wee tyke she was my nanny, cooked my meals and did practically everything for me after my mother died. That is until my father re-married, but that took a turn for the worst.

  “Can you tell him I’ll be down in five minutes? I need to finish typing up this email.” I ask her. I look up after a few moments to see her standing in the doorway of my office, her arms crossed and glaring down at me like I’m about to get a talking to.

  I straighten up in my chair, lean back and stare at her. “Well, say whatever it is that’s on your mind, you old bat.”

  She smirks for a split second and then her expression contorts into a stern scowl. “I would just love to know why you two insist on sending me up and down these godforsaken stairs. These bones aren’t as young and strong as they used to be, Mr. Mackenzie. Use your damned cell phones and stop making me cross oceans for you bloody bastards!”

  I chuckle in response. “I have no problem texting him. He’s the one who’s stuck in his old ways. Maybe you should have a chat with him about that, Maeve.”

  “His father even used the damn intercom system. Old bastard won’t even do that!”

  “You tell him!” I suggest, chuckling into my hand.

  “I sure will.” She turns and starts to exit my doorway, but then stops. I already know what she’s about to ask because we’ve been doing this for far too long.

  “Whatever you’re cooking tonight is fine, Maeve. Thank you.”

  “Alright, Mr. Mackenzie.” Maeve walks from my doorway into the hallway and out of my sight.

  It’s an average summer day here in Ireland, one where the rain is tumbling down upon us. We’re so used to it at this point. I’m just hoping that it’ll let up so I can enjoy walking around the city tomorrow. It’s frowned upon for me to walk around the city, or rather
my father isn’t supportive of my “carelessness” as he prefers to call it. Dublin is my home, and whomever the motherfucker is that attempts to harm me will be sorely disappointed when a bullet ends up being put between their eyes.

  I finish typing my email and send it then get up and go down to my father’s office. Our home is a bit different than most, massive bedrooms span over the estate. We actually have a bedroom upstairs converted into an office for me. Typically, my father would be handling all of the business transactions, however, we know that the reins will be passed down to me within the next few years and rather than going in blind, he’s preparing me for the brunt of work now. I grew up watching him, sitting in the corner of his office assessing the way he spoke to people and conducted himself.

  “You sent the wolfhound at me, hmm?” he jokes as I approach him and take a seat on the leather chair across from his desk.

  “You just had to go and rile her up. If you ask me, you did it to yourself. You can just text me and tell me to meet you down here, or use the intercom system. No reason to be making her go up and down the stairs. Anyway, what was it you needed to discuss with me so suddenly?”

  He crosses his arms and stares at me. “There are rumors that the DiGiovanni girls have gone missing.” DiGiovannis are the Italian Mafia. For them to go missing doesn’t just happen.

  “How?” I ask.

  “They’ve vanished. Been missing for the last week. His oldest, Caprice, is engaged to Sergei Kolosov.”

  I twist my face in disgust at hearing that foul creature’s name. “You know that isn’t a marriage made of love.”

  “None of his marriages ever are. It was purely a business decision. That I can guarantee.”

  “Is their foul play involved?” I ask, curious to know what my father does.

  “I don’t believe so. Knowing what I do of Gabriele, it wouldn’t surprise me if this was their choice. He treats his sons and daughters very differently. I would never treat your sisters that way . . . and if I did, you’d need to kill me.” My sisters, a very sore subject in our household. I haven’t seen them since they were about six months old if they were even that old in the first place. For over twenty-five years we have been apart, solely for their protection.

  My father and the Russians have had a longstanding war, and Valentin Volkolv has made it a point to state the moment my sisters circle back around he will be killing them. It’s his way of taking an eye for an eye.

  The story is a long and detailed one but to sum it up their mother was engaged to Valentin, but at the time Russia had been in multiple wars and Valentin didn’t want her to stay in Moscow. He felt that it was too dangerous for her and indeed it was. My father ended up falling in love with her, marrying the woman who was betrothed to his best friend. Valentin couldn’t accept the fact that she had wanted my father instead of him, and after my sisters were born my step-mother was shot in the head. She’s still alive— if that’s what we can call it. Hooked up to machines upstairs in her bedroom. Valentin has harmed my family enough but he doesn’t see it. He wants more revenge and because of it, I have never been able to see my sisters, hug them, or even get to know them. I miss them tremendously and hope that one day we will be able to reunite.

  “What is it that you want me to do?” He has to want me to keep an eye out or something. Otherwise, I don’t know why he’d tell me.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just notifying you of what’s been going around. If you hear anything, I am sure you will tell me.”

  “I will,” I confirm.

  CONTINUE READING

  PROMISE ME TOMORROW

  A Moonflower Collection Novel

  by Lyssa Cole

  PROLOGUE

  Juliet

  They say you never forget your first love. I want to know who exactly they are? And I want to let them know just how wrong they are.

  You can forget your first love.

  You can forget your entire life, all the people you know, and the whole world around you.

  I know because it happened to me.

  And I was left to pick up what was once my life when I really had no clue at all.

  Except for him. He was my clue. My shining light in the dark, leading me back to figuring out who I was and who I am.

  It hurts to be around him, the guilt all-consuming, the wounds so raw and painful, with a throbbing ache in my chest robbing me of air whenever he’s close.

  Yet away from him, the wounds become unbearable, and I find myself always coming back to him.

  The man determined to make me fall in love with him every damn day.

  My first love.

  My forever love.

  This is our story.

  CHAPTER 1

  Juliet

  Beep, beep, beep.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  Beep, beep—

  “Jules, sweetie. Open your eyes.”

  A voice I don’t know interrupts the soothing beeps and thumps, and my body instantly stiffens in response.

  “Come on, love. Open those beauties.”

  Who in the hell keeps talking and won’t shut up? I want to yell, but no words form in my throat. In fact, I can’t move, my eyes glued shut, my mouth dry with a tongue that must weigh a thousand pounds.

  What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?

  “Give her some time. She may still be out of it. Her body needs time and, more importantly, rest.” Another voice I don’t know. I wish more than anything to just open my eyes, my mouth, whatever. Yet I can’t.

  “When she wakes, she may be confused. There’s a possibility she may not remember much either. All of this is normal. What she needs is reassurance.” That same voice is kind yet stern. Have I heard it before?

  My eyes are so heavy, but I force them open, blinking several times. I look around and recognize nothing, except I’m in a hospital bed and way too many people are surrounding me.

  Loud chatter fills the room when they see my eyes are now open. A dark brunette rushes over to me, tears splashing on her cheeks. “Jules, oh, Jules. You’re awake!” She touches my face, and I instantly jerk back. Who is this crazy lady?

  The look on my face must scream my words because she looks hurt. Another younger woman comes up beside the brunette lady and chokes back a sob. Then a man appears next to me on the other side. My head spins. “Do you remember us?” the man asks, and my eyes frantically dart back and forth between them.

  I don’t know how to answer.

  Remember who?

  Who is us?

  Who are they?

  Who in the fuck am I?

  My stomach free-falls, and my breathing picks up speed. I hear them talking, but the words don’t register. The woman touches my face again, while the man’s cold hands touch my arm.

  Another woman, who looks to be a nurse, comes up beside me, pushing the man aside gently as she leans over me. Her curly blond hair is a ball of frizz on the top of her head, and her tan skin glows dark. Her smile is warm and friendly. “Hi, beautiful. Nice to finally see those pretty eyes of yours. Do you know your name, love?”

  I recognize her voice as the stern voice I just heard. Why would she ask me my own name? Of course, I know my own name. It’s—wait—it’s—I’m blank. I have absolutely no idea.

  “Do you know where you are? Or who any of these friendly folks are?”

  Now I’m really freaking the fuck out.

  My heart rate soars, the machine next to me a dead giveaway to the fact I’m totally freaking the fuck out.

  “Shh, sweetie, it’s okay. Relax.” The blonde pats my shoulder, and I find her bright pink scrubs a little too bright. “I’m going to go get the doctor.” She nods toward the other people surrounding me, who now move toward the door, then she turns her attention back to me. “Small sips of water and deep breaths. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe and in good hands.”

  She brings a straw to my mouth, and I slurp with greed, the icy water soothing on my dry, burning throat. “Small sips.”
The cup is pulled away, and I’m left wanting more.

  I finally manage some words. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in the hospital. You were in an accident and injured your head. Your memory seems to be a bit fuzzy right now. Let me get the doctor.”

  “An accident? Wh-what?”

  The door opens, and a man in a white coat walks in, followed by the man who was by my bedside. When did he leave? I can’t even begin to process all of this. My head is fucking throbbing.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Evans. How are you feeling?”

  “My head hurts, and I have no clue who the hell I am,” I spit out with annoyance. I hate myself right now, but I can’t help it. It’s frustrating as all hell not knowing anything.

  How do I not even know who I am? This must be a nightmare. I need to wake up. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and reopen them. Nothing’s changed. I try again but still nothing. Except now everyone is looking at me like I have three fucking heads.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in. But trust me, everyone here is looking out for your best interest. Now, let’s go over some things we do know. Maybe it’ll help jar your memory.” Dr. Evans flips through a chart before settling his eyes on me. “You were brought into the emergency department by ambulance. You were in a bad car accident. A drunk driver slammed into you headfirst, deploying your airbag, which saved your life, yet at some point, you hit your head hard. We ran a CAT scan and were able to see you suffered a concussion. It hit in just the right spot that we were afraid memory loss would occur, and it looks like we were correct.”

  I take a deep breath while trying to listen to what he’s saying. An accident? I don’t even remember owning a car, never mind getting into an accident.

  “You were taken into surgery, where we had to repair some internal damage causing a slight bleed, and you also broke your tailbone. Your seat belt did a good job of keeping you inside the car. Things could have gone much worse. Your memory loss, as I said, is normal, common. We just didn’t know how severe it would be. Things seem dire right now, as you’re probably very confused, but rest assured, most people get their memory back within a few days.”