Fallen: A Dark Italian Mafia Romance (Men of Mayhem Book 4)

by Kristen Luciani

  “I told you not to run,” he says in an eerily calm voice. “That it would be pointless since I would always find you.”

  “I escaped you before,” I seethe through gritted teeth, my whole body trembling with anger. “I can do it again.”

  “There is no escape, Aria,” he says, stepping into the villa through the cracked windows. “You think you’re so smart, but yet you still haven’t learned that yet. And if what happened to your mother didn’t prove it to you, I can think of a few other ways to get it through your thick skull!”

  “Fuck you!” I shriek. “You’re a monster! Why did you do this to us? Why did you drag us into your hell?”

  “You can blame your mother for that.” He smirks at me. “She came willingly, Aria. And don’t fool yourself into thinking that she didn’t know about my business. You both profited from my work. I didn’t see either of you turn away those luxuries.”

  “You threatened her! You told her you’d kill me if she tried to leave you! I know all about your ultimatums. And your beatings! You hurt her over and over and over again.”

  “But still, she was smart enough to stay. She knew I was a man of my word and she would do anything to defend you.” He moves closer. “Until you thought you had all of the answers. You killed her when you made her leave!” he growls. “You thought that letting those girls go would shut me down? Do you still not realize who I am? And how much I control? You were never going to get away with it, Aria. Never!”

  “I hate you!” I hurl the glass at his head and he snickers as he easily ducks out of its path. “You let your brother rape me! Your own daughter, whom you were always supposed to protect! Did you film that, too? Just like you did all of the others? How much money did you make off of having me and Mama brutalized? How much did you profit from us, you sadistic fuck?”

  A low chuckle escapes his lips. “Always so quick with that tongue. Haven’t you learned anything from this, Aria? Keep your mouth shut unless it’s sucking a dick. According to your Uncle Nikola, that’s how your mouth works best.”

  My blood is beyond boiling at this point, my eyes wild as they search for anything to impale my father with. The lemon zester sits on the bar, and my fingers tingle just thinking about zesting layer upon layer of his skin.

  But time isn’t exactly on my side.

  The grasses separate and I can make out other dark forms moving slowly for the villa. Mirko raises his hand toward me and I am staring down the barrel of his gun.

  He’s right.

  I killed Mama.

  And I swore it wouldn’t be for nothing.

  I promise you that, Mama.

  A flash of red blinds me, firing up my limbs as they tighten. Just before I lunge for Mirko, I catch the slightest movement next to me out of the corner of my eye. Vince rolls over and hurls his weight at me, taking me out at the ankles. I crash into the wall next to the bar and he dives against me, pressing something on the floor. The force of bullets pummeling him shakes me as my body goes into a free fall, the wind knocked out of my lungs as I fall flat on my back at the bottom of some hidden room.

  A safe room.

  But there’s nothing safe about my situation.

  Mirko made that damn clear.

  “Vince!” I scream, struggling to my feet. I look around for a set of stairs or a ladder, anything that can help me get back upstairs.

  Because it’s up to me alone to end this war!

  “Vince!” I yell again as more shots ring out. They explode louder and louder and I know that the other guys have invaded Vince’s space.

  He can’t hold them off on his own.

  He needs my help!

  I slam my fists on the wall, my voice hoarse and scratchy from all of the yelling.

  But still, he doesn’t answer.

  My father will find me and he’ll make sure I never speak another word of him or his business again, all because Vince shoved me into this pit!

  I can’t save Mama.

  I can’t save myself.

  Minutes later, silence falls over the villa.

  A shiver rushes through me and I clutch my arms tight.

  I failed you, Mama…

  I race around the dimly lit room, pulling at drawers and closets, but everything is locked.

  “Goddammit!” I screech. “Ahh!” I sink to the floor, my head in my hands, sobs shuddering my body.

  After a few seconds, a creaking noise startles me and I gasp, struggling to my feet. Light from above pours into the room, illuminating every corner of the space. It’s only then that I see the ladder against the wall.

  “Drag it over here,” Vince rasps, leaning into the opening. “I’ll grab it and pull you out.”

  My teeth chatter as I pull it over and position it so that I can climb out of this dungeon. I step onto the first rung, my legs wobbling as I move closer to Vince.

  He grasps my hands when I am close enough and yanks me out. I collapse on top of him and he lets out a loud groan. I look down at the holes in his shirt and stick my fingers into them. “You…you’re alive,” I whisper. “I thought you were dead.”

  “So did your father,” he grumbles as I roll off of him and scour the space.

  More blood. More bodies.

  “How the hell did you…?” My voice trails off as I take in the ravaged villa.

  “I’m not always sloppy.”

  I look at him, my jaw practically on the floor. “Evidently.”

  And then I remember.

  Mirko.

  “Where is he?” I say, my voice cracking as I pull my body up, using the wall to balance me.

  Vince nods his head toward my father, where his body lies twisted on top of a pile of glass and plaster, torn apart by a sea of bullets.

  I stand over him and stare into his lifeless eyes. “He’s dead,” I finally say in a monotone voice, turning to Vince. I take a deep breath, my heart thundering out of control as I inch toward him. “You killed him!” I snarl. “You did!”

  He looks at me, his jaw set, eyes narrowed as if he’s questioning my sanity right now.

  Exactly the way I am.

  But he doesn’t understand.

  Nobody does!

  “Look, I know this is a lot to take in. Just relax.”

  “Relax,” I repeat. “I haven’t ever been able to relax!”

  Vince reaches out to stroke my back, his voice low and soothing. “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you, Aria. But it’s over, okay? He’s gone. He’ll never hurt you again. You’re safe now.”

  “Am I?” I stomp toward him and shove him back against the bar. His body barely registers the force of my hands against him. “You shoved me into that underground closet just as I was about to attack him! Why did you do that? Why did you let him win?”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he hisses, all hints of patience and understanding dissipating into the air of death surrounding us. “He’s dead! How did he fucking win anything?”

  “He won because I failed!” I scream, holding my temples. “Don’t you get that? I was supposed to end this! Nobody else! I was supposed to do it for Mama and the girls and me…” I grab another glass from the bar and throw it at the bottles of liquor lining the shelves behind him. They crash to the floor as the shelf shatters from the force. “I lost because of you!”

  He grabs me by the shoulders and twists me to face the carnage soiling the rooms. “Do you see this? All of these dead guys? You fucking won because you’re not one of them! I saved your life three times tonight and you’re attacking me for killing the guy who killed your mother and terrorized you for as long as you can remember?” Vince shakes his head, an incredulous laugh tumbling form his lips. “You know, your father was a goddamn certified head case, but I don’t think the grape fell far from the vine with you, Aria!”

  I slam my fists against him, not even noticing the blood spreading down his sleeve. Vince winces, but his teeth are gritted as his fingers close onto my arms. Tears sting my eyes.

/>   Mirko got away with murder.

  And I wasn’t the one to serve him justice.

  That’s all I wanted. It’s what I needed.

  Justice not only for me and Mama, but for all of the women he ruined.

  It was the only way to get closure for the nightmare I suffered through for my entire life, the only way I’d ever be able to find peace.

  The guilt and anguish run so deep, raging through me like an all-consuming flame as I glare at my dead father.

  I raise my eyes to Vince’s, my hands fisted against my sides.

  “You let him win.” Tears run down my face as I shrug out of his vise-like grip, a pang in my chest exploding down my left arm. I sway against the bar, steadying myself, but dizziness assaults my head as my breaths become pants for air. I taste bile as my gut twists tighter and tighter. “You…you destroyed everything!”

  I gasp like a fish out of water one last time before my face plants against the floor and blackness consumes me.

  Chapter Ten

  Vincenzo

  She went down too fast for me to catch her.

  And to be honest, I was so shocked when her crazy bitch alter-ego showed up to get into the action that I didn’t really want to.

  I admit it.

  I got some sick satisfaction from seeing her face-plant. Yeah, fine, I get that she’s had a shitty night and a shittier life, but fuck!

  I took out ten guys, including her psycho father, entirely on my own!

  True, without my Kevlar, I’d have been sprawled out right next to them, but my single-handed massacre didn’t even warrant a simple ‘thank you’.

  No, instead, it was a ‘fuck you, very much!’

  I grit my teeth as I dig around for the bullet embedded in my cartilage. Now that Sil is dead, I have no emergency medical care out here. With my brothers and our ‘work’, I’ve had plenty of practice, but it’d still be nice to have someone shoot me up with some anesthesia before sewing me up. Squeezing my eyes shut, I clamp the bullet tight with the tweezers and pull it out, dropping it with a clatter onto the granite countertop.

  I wonder where she is right now.

  I made a couple of calls right after she went down, the first one to Paolo letting him know I have his cousin, and could he please come and get her the fuck out of my house? He didn’t ask any questions, which tells me this woman’s reputation must precede her.

  Another reason to send her packing.

  I’ve seen and experienced a lot of things in my life. I’ve walked into the jaws of hell and miraculously survived to tell about it. I’ve watched my mother’s body get ravaged by cancer. I stayed with her when she finally couldn’t hang on another second and drifted away. I’ve seen my father’s body riddled with bullets and took action to punish those who were responsible, even though he was a nasty, controlling bastard who used my brothers and me as hired guns instead of treating us like sons.

  I’ve killed plenty and maimed more, all in the name of family and obligation.

  I’ve earned my place as the boss.

  And it’s a job that requires a thick skin.

  I rub the back of my neck.

  So why the hell am I still ranting to myself about Crackerjack Crazy who’s still wandering around my house, bitching about how I made her situation so much worse?

  Me!

  Why do I give a damn?

  I’ve dealt with worse. Much worse. Far more crazy.

  I did exactly what I needed to do.

  I saved her life.

  Three fucking times!

  I slam the fist of my good arm on the countertop before threading my needle.

  It hurts like a bitch, but I don’t make a sound. A little pain is good for the soul. That’s what my father always used to tell us.

  My soul must be very healthy.

  After a few agonizing minutes, my second surgery in the past twelve hours is complete, and all I can think of is how much whiskey I still have left after those bullets destroyed my bar.

  With a deep sigh, I pull open the door of the bathroom and stagger into the living room, surveying the damage. Thank fuck I have a special insurance company to handle this kind of crap. Shit storms like the one that ravaged my house an hour ago aren’t considered acts of God in typical homeowner policies.

  And while it is an act of God I survived that ambush, it’s not gonna get me any restitution.

  I frown at the bodies littering my floor. Christ, I won’t be able to salvage any of this shit. Area rugs, furniture, wood floors, walls.

  All destroyed.

  Blood-stained and bullet-torn.

  I stop in my tracks, bending over to pick up a slice of the Murano glass bowl that sent Aria into emotional basket case-mode before these assholes showed up.

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I turn it over in my hands.

  Mama’s favorite.

  Sonofabitch!

  A surge of anger roars through me as I let out a thundering yell, hurling the piece across the room where it smashes against the front door into colorful shards. They fly through the air like glitter as the light reflects off of them.

  They did that.

  And just like that, my safe haven, my sanctuary, is now forever polluted with devastation.

  It was the one place I could come to escape it all.

  Now it’s just like every other place I go.

  Forever permeated with the stench of death.

  I run a hand through my hair and grab the one bottle that hasn’t been smashed to shit and pull out the cork.

  No glasses.

  Aria.

  I recall her hurling them like projectiles through the air since there were no other weapons around.

  I don’t need a fucking glass anyway!

  I lean my head back, letting the amber-colored liquid sear a fiery path down my throat. It burns as it sloshes around in my empty stomach, but still takes the edge off. I take another long gulp and set it down on the bar.

  The cleaners should be here soon to clear this place out. They’ll do body removal, they’ll clean, sterilize, re-upholster, all of that shit.

  Fix it like new.

  And then what?

  I just go home and pretend like none of it happened?

  Like I don’t know that there’s still a threat out there, because there always is after this kind of an assault?

  Like I haven’t just put my entire family in danger because of the impromptu shootout I just hosted?

  Like I haven’t pissed off someone even more powerful than Mirko Lovrić?

  Great, now I need one more drink to blunt that hellish realization.

  I’m not stupid enough to think that this ended with my last bullet.

  There are always consequences.

  And yet again, I fell into the trap of blatantly ignoring them.

  I didn’t walk away. I tried to protect her and not just because it’s my obligation.

  Something else kept me in the game.

  Sure, I can lie to myself and blame my actions on the code, the one I’m required to live by unless everything goes to shit.

  I can try to convince myself that because Paolo went to bat for me, I did the same for him.

  I can insist that this life only works if you have allies, otherwise your organization gets torn to shreds.

  And that I chose mine by helping my business partner.

  I just hope he chooses me back when the time comes.

  It will, because it always does.

  One and done?

  Never.

  A firm rap on the door startles me from my thoughts.

  My eyes peer at the camera feed on my watch.

  Paolo.

  I pull open the front door and step aside so he can enter the foyer, which really looks more like a morgue right now.

  “Fuck, Vince,” Paolo breathes, taking in the mess as he walks into the war-torn foyer.

  That’s really the best way to describe it.

  A big goddamn mess.

/>   And it extends so far beyond just this villa.

  I wonder if even Paolo gets that.

  I guess that’ll have to be a meeting for another day.

  “Paolo,” I say in a low voice. “This whole thing stays between us right now, capice? My brothers can’t find out about what happened last night, about this bloodbath and me interfering with Lovrić’s plans. You tell everyone that Aria is staying with you for a while here in Sicily, anyone who asks. Tell them she’s grieving her mother, whatever the hell crap you have to make up to throw them off-track. But do not let my brothers know I was involved with this…this…” I wave my hand around. “Fucking disaster.”

  “Of course, Vince.” Paolo nods. “My family knows nothing of it. They don’t even know about our meeting or about Aria being here. I know what you risked to help me. I can take care of damage control.”

  The words hang in the air between us, a blatant, blazing lie, because we both know he can’t.

  The damage I did last night and this morning is too far-reaching. It bleeds into my entire world. It puts my family name on the radar of a very deadly network that will find out exactly what happened here.

  If they don’t already know it.

  Mirko didn’t walk in here without a second string waiting on the sidelines.

  And when he doesn’t show up with a body count, that second string will know he’s part of it.

  The why won’t matter.

  Nothing matters except money.

  And by pulling the trigger as many times as I did, I killed their ability to make it.

  At least temporarily, because scumbags like Mirko always have other income streams at play. I may have paralyzed their operation, but it sure as hell ain’t causing permanent damage. And once they’re back up and running, that’s when they’ll come for me.

  For all of us.

  Because I lost sight of consequences, put emotion before logic, and slapped big ass targets on all of our heads in the process.

  Aria appears in the doorway to the kitchen, still in the same clothes she wore when I found her on the side of the road.

  She wouldn’t put on the clean ones I gave her, said she wanted nothing from me, that she needed the clothes as a reminder of the blood I shed on her behalf, a reminder that her nightmare is still on permanent loop because she wasn’t the one to end it.