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

by Kristen Luciani

  She said a lot of other things. After a while, I just tuned her out.

  I figured she’d wake up from her fainting episode ready to acknowledge that she was completely insane and her ranting was a result of shock.

  Instead, she woke up and just continued where she left off until I finally got in touch with Paolo.

  Aria fixes her glare on me, her mouth twisted into a dark grimace as she walks toward us. “Is this one of your cleaner friends?” she hisses, her hands on her hips. “Is he supposed to just come in here and scrub away the mess you’ve created? Wipe it all clean for you so that you can pretend it never happened? Because I can’t do that!” she shrieks, stomping over to me, a red flush coloring her cheeks. “I didn’t get a chance to get my revenge because you took that away from me! You didn’t give me the chance to avenge my mother’s murder…my mother’s and all of the other innocent girls who lost their lives at his hand!”

  “Aria,” Paolo starts, and she spins around to stare him down.

  “Who the fuck are you?” she says through gritted teeth, her eyes wild and spitting fire.

  “I’m your cousin, Paolo,” he replies, stepping forward the slightest bit. I’d have stayed put if I were him. She’s on a tear that can’t possibly end well for anyone who dares get too close.

  Her blazing hot gaze focuses on me again and she inches closer. “You called him? I told you not to!”

  “We both know there is still a threat, Aria,” I say in a low voice. “You need to leave with Paolo. He can keep you safe.”

  She lets out a dry laugh. “That’s what you said last night. It’s why I came here with you. And now look!” she yells, waving her hand around. “How the fuck are any of us going to be safe now?”

  Okay, enough of this shit!

  I lean toward her. “You wanna go back in time for a second, sweetheart? Whose shit storm is this? I got pulled into the middle of it, but it sure as hell wasn’t mine to start.”

  “Nobody pulled you in!” she shrieks. “You jumped in, head-first! You knew what was coming and you took control!”

  “To fix it!” I roar. “Because you opened up a can of ‘fuck all’ that blew all over us! You know this isn’t over. Hell, everyone knows it! And if you’d have taken a shot at Mirko, you’d be lying here right next to these assholes!”

  “Why? Because I can’t possibly defend myself, right? Because you didn’t see me with that scalpel last night?” She shakes her head, her chin trembling. “My nightmare will never end. He’ll always be there, hanging over me, taunting me because I couldn’t get the justice I wanted! The justice that everyone he hurt needed!”

  I grab her by the shoulders, my pulse quickening as I close the space between us. I stare down into her eyes, so brooding, so tortured, so broken.

  I know this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with her.

  But her words still sting.

  Maybe it’s because the reality of my actions weigh on me like a mountain of lead bricks.

  “It’s time for you to go,” I say gruffly. “Paolo will take things from here. The immediate threat is gone. You’ll be safe.”

  “For how long?” she says, her voice shaking. “And how many more people will have to die while we wait for the inevitable to happen? Because it will. You know it. My father didn’t work alone! He—”

  “Aria,” Paolo interrupts, clearing his throat. “Vince was just doing what I asked. He helped me find you, he got you out of danger. He gave you an out.”

  “An out?” she scoffs. “Is there really such a thing?” She looks between us.

  “Do you think that would change if it had been you who pulled the trigger?” I lift my eyebrow. “Would it be any different for you? For any of us?”

  “At least I’d have been able to punish him the way he punished so many others. My own way!” she seethes.

  “That’s not going to stop what comes next,” I grunt.

  “I wanted to look him in the eye as he died. I wanted to say so much to him!”

  “Trust me, you said plenty.” I rub the back of my neck. “If it’s any consolation, you led him here, to his death. He knows you won, Aria. And your prize was freedom.”

  “It’ll be short-lived if we don’t get out of here,” Paolo says, craning his neck and peering out at the front yard.

  “It won’t matter,” she mutters. “My father’s associates know about you, Paolo. That’s why I wanted to stay away. You weren’t a threat when my mother was in Croatia. But now…” she sighs. “I never meant for any of this to hit you. Either of you. And I can’t stick around, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ve already spent too much of my life watching.” Her tone is flat, emotionless, her eyes tired and heavy. She turns to walk out of the villa, shoulders squared.

  Paolo nods at me before rushing out after her, wordless because what the hell can he even say at this point?

  Thank you?

  I get it.

  I wouldn’t know what to say in response anyway.

  Somehow ‘you’re welcome’ doesn’t seem to capture everything racing through my mind.

  I watch Paolo open the car door for Aria and I see her drop into the leather seat, a defeated expression on her face. An unexplainable pang clenches my heart. I never saw that look in the twelve or so hours I’ve known her, not when she was staring down death at my uncle’s hand or hanging from a vine over a ten-thousand-foot drop.

  Whatever she did, tonight and back in Croatia, it defeated her demons. It saved her, in more ways than one.

  I hope someday she’ll be able to see that, too.

  In the meantime, Paolo will have his hands full trying to manage his cousin and her convictions.

  And I have a lot of cleaning up to do.

  As always.

  Except this time, it’s my mess.

  Nobody else’s.

  Chapter Eleven

  Aria

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  “That’s what you’re wearing?” Paolo lifts a thick, dark eyebrow at me and frowns at my ensemble as he pulls open the car door.

  I shrug. “We’re going into battle with a drug cartel, right? I think that requires something a little more badass than sweats and sneakers.” My cousin Dante, one of Paolo’s sons, is a kinky fucker who evidently likes handcuffs, whips, and role play, and I found a tight leather jacket and matching pants in his box of tricks. I keep the kink discovery to myself, though. I can’t even stomach the thought of saying it out loud.

  Way too much information for his father to hear.

  I hook my finger into one of the belt loops, wishing I’d have taken the whip that came with the outfit after all. You never know. It might’ve been useful.

  I’m feeling reckless today. Wrapping a thick leather whip around someone’s throat and squeezing it tight enough to turn his face blue and make his eyeballs pop out of the sockets gives me a crazy rush of adrenaline. A shiver runs through me in sheer anticipation.

  Bloodlust swarms around me, like a thick, dark cloud that slurs my judgment and makes me anxious to do things that will never change the past but will provide me peace, albeit temporary.

  Weeks ago, I had a chance to wrong so many rights and it was yanked away from me.

  But the demons still lurk, taunting me and daring me to come out of the shadows, to face them once and for all.

  I’m not hiding anymore, uncle.

  And I’m ready to play.

  There’s just one little problem.

  I have no clue how to find you, which makes me a sitting duck.

  I shift in the front seat and pull the seatbelt across my body, gritting my teeth. And this stiff leather getup doesn’t make sitting a very pleasant experience.

  Paolo can’t know about my plans to find my Uncle Nikola, the last chance I have at redemption for Mama’s death, and the last opportunity for me to close the book on my hellish past forever. My cousin is already a target by association, and I’ve caused him and his family enough trouble since I showed u
p here in Sicily.

  Only one person can help me.

  But that bridge is pretty much a pile of ash after I incinerated it a few weeks ago.

  I crack my knuckles, staring out the window as Paolo drives toward our destination. Death and dismemberment have become a way of life for me over the past few weeks, and I know Paolo appreciates me helping him out while his sons handle his other business dealings. Nightclubs, bars, restaurants…it seems like the Villani family owns the entertainment scene in Palermo.

  I’m happy to help my family keep their people in line. Gives me a distraction from the toxic thoughts polluting my mind. Besides, it’s the least I can do in return for their hospitality, and I have to say, the experience has been quite therapeutic for me, a way to channel the fury that’s slowly poisoning me.

  And if I happen to cut off a limb or stab some fuckwit in the eye for stealing from the family, so be it.

  It’s all in a day’s work.

  The endgame is near. I just need a plan to execute it, and his name begins with a V.

  “You seem distracted,” he says, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “Just focused,” I murmur. Not a complete lie. It’s better he doesn’t know what I have rolling around in my mind right now. It’ll keep him and his family safe.

  I, on the other hand, have nobody to protect anymore.

  That means I have nothing to lose.

  “Look, I know the past few weeks have been hard for you—”

  I let out a dry laugh. “Hard? Yeah, you could say that.”

  “I’m worried about you, Aria. I promised your mother I’d take care of you, but I can’t help you get what you need unless you talk to me.”

  I slap my hands against my leather-clad thighs, staring out the windshield. “Paolo, I appreciate all you’ve done for me. Really, I do. But there’s nothing to talk about. I’m handling all of this the best way I can.”

  “I can count on two hands how many of my guys you’ve maimed in the past few weeks, not to mention the number outside of my crew that you’ve mutilated.”

  “I’m just trying to keep my mind off of everything,” I mumble.

  “And cutting off hands because someone grazed your ass is helping with that?”

  “I bet he’ll think long and hard about doing it to another girl in the future.” I sneak a look at Paolo, his concerned expression making my throat tighten.

  I’ve been out of control lately. I know it.

  I keep thinking it will help, that making other people suffer will, in some twisted way, bring me closure.

  It doesn’t.

  It just brings them a lot of pain.

  And contributes to my numbness.

  Truth be told, the last time I didn’t feel this empty was when I was with Vince at his villa. After all of the trauma I’d suffered, it was him who calmed me.

  Well, I was calm before he took things into his own hands.

  I clench and unclench my fists, indignation rising in my chest, making my blood boil.

  I can’t get what I need if I let it bubble over.

  I have to stay calm. I have to keep my head. I have to fight the urge to knee him in the balls again.

  “I will be more careful,” I say, expelling a breath through my nose. “I don’t want to bring any more problems to your front door, especially after all you’ve done to keep me safe.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Aria. We’re family, and this is how families operate. We take care of our own.”

  “I know,” I whisper. “And it’s really nice to have that. I’m sorry I’ve been so unhinged lately.”

  “It’s understandable,” he says, turning down a dark side street that looks more like an alley. “Just remember we’re on your side and always will be.”

  I nod. I get it. And I’m thankful for it, knowing I have my own allies. The only problem is they can’t save me from my biggest enemy.

  There aren’t enough weapons in the world that can take down the devil.

  That’s a job I have to do myself with the only form of kryptonite I know for sure will destroy him.

  But right now?

  Duty calls.

  “Okay, so this cartel, they stole drugs from the Marcone family and sold them to you?” I ask Paolo as he makes another turn.

  “Yes,” he says.

  “And they put the hit on the Marcone family and told you about it?” I furrow my brow.

  “They didn’t know we were working together. And they definitely don’t know that we’re about to show up as Vince’s backup.” His eyes dart left and right as if someone is going to ambush us in the middle of the street.

  Then again, this is Sicily.

  “Shit!” Paolo makes a sudden sharp right turn, slamming his foot on the brake. “They’re here!”

  My pulse throbs against my neck and I wiggle my toes in these ridiculous shoes, anxious to run into the fray and literally fire on all cylinders.

  Death.

  It’s upon someone.

  A chill slips down my spine.

  Christ Almighty, I think I may need some real therapy after this.

  He pulls the car into a small lot in the back of what I guess is the restaurant and we hop out, grabbing our guns from under the seat.

  “We need to get inside fast and warn them,” Paolo mutters, sweeping a hand through his graying hair.

  I follow him to the back door, jogging to keep up until I slam right into his wide back.

  “Oof!” I yelp, stumbling as my heel gets caught in a crack.

  Paolo reaches out to grab me before I fall forward onto the pavement. “Really with those shoes?” He rolls his eyes and raps on the door. “Vince! Open the door! Quick!”

  A few seconds later, the door opens a crack and a carbon copy of Vince appears, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Paolo, what the fuck, man? If you rained this shit storm down on us, I’m gonna stuff you into that fucking oven and roast your ass until you’re a pile of ash!”

  Paolo smirks at the guy who is obviously one of Vince’s brothers and holds out a hand to pull him up. “Good to see you, too, kid. It’s been a long time.” He nods his head toward the front of the restaurant. “Salazar and his guys are here.”

  Then Vince appears, and all thoughts of the imminent cartel threat dissipate as my eyes tangle with his dark and brooding ones. Sex and danger. That’s what I see when I look at him, my eyes lapping up every drop of carnal energy he exudes, from his chiseled face to the cuts of muscle that define his chest and arms. I force my eyes to not go farther south than that, or else I’ll be in worse trouble than I already am.

  I swallow hard, but the golf-ball-sized lump lodged in my throat makes it a definite challenge. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickle, my galloping heart beating with such force that it’s damn-near ready to tear through this leather jacket.

  I follow Paolo inside, trying hard to keep my focus since there are a bunch of drug thugs only a few feet away who want to blow us all into next century. I clutch my gun, the second one tucked into the waistband of the leather pants by the grace of God since I didn’t think there was anything that could possibly fit in there.

  Vince rolls his eyes at Paolo. “No shit. They’ve already blown up half the place from outside.”

  “Where’s Tommy?” Paolo asks.

  “On his way.” Vince narrows his eyes at me as I step into the restaurant after Paolo. “Where are your men? Is she gonna be able to keep up?” he asks Paolo, his focus not moving from my face.

  Paolo smirks, pulling out his gun. “I don’t need them. I’ve got my cousin.”

  Vince’s jaw tightens as his gaze ices over. His eyes spit pure disgust in my direction and my resolve falters. Not even the heat coiling in my belly can quell the urge to lash out at him.

  “Aria is more of a badass than all of your brothers put together,” Paolo says to Vince, creeping toward the front of the restaurant.

  Vince snorts, and I decide I’ve had enough of his bull
shit attitude. As if I’m some weak, pathetic bitch who can’t handle herself. He’s going to find out how very wrong he is. Fuck him helping me! I’ll figure out a way to execute my plan by my damn self!

  “Are you going to stuff me in a closet so you can steal the show as usual, Vince?” I hiss under my breath.

  “Maybe. Depends on whether or not I need to save your ass again,” he grunts in reply, gritting his teeth as I storm past him, so tempted to stab his foot with one of my stilettos.

  I can feel his eyes on me as my hips gently swing with each step I take, my heels clicking along the tile floor. “You wish you could get that close to it,” I purr at him, flipping him off with a long, blood-red-painted fingernail. I hold the gun in my outstretched hand, eyeing all of the others…Vince’s family, I presume. They all flash me the same curious look in return and I swallow a smirk, knowing they all must have heard our somewhat heated and terse exchange.

  Bang! Crack! Pop!

  Bullets fly through the air and we all scatter. Paolo pushes me into the dining room, away from the short, hulking guys who barrel through the front door.

  “Stay here,” he mumbles. “Until I give the word.”

  My eyes narrow at Vince as he stomps in the direction of the firefight, shooting his gun and barely blinking as the explosions shatter in the frenzy that’s overtaken this place in only a few short seconds.

  I peer through a hole in the half-wall, my spine stiffening as another Marcone brother is shoved into the place alongside another guy. They are both forced down to the floor as someone behind them screams a whole lot of stuff I don’t understand in Spanish.

  Must be the ringleader. Juan Salazar.

  More yelling follows and Salazar screams at a guy named Tommy. Must be the Tommy who owns this place. I sure as hell hope he has a good insurance policy. Paolo grabs my wrist as I tiptoe toward the column, ready to peek my head around and take a shot that’ll send Salazar’s head spinning off of his neck.

  “Not yet,” he says in a hushed whisper.

  Vince appears next to me, knife in hand. I didn’t even notice him slip into the dining room since I’d been so focused on the scene playing out beyond the wall. I hold out a hand as he steps toward the bloody mess of guys from the first round of the shootout. “Are you insane?” I hiss. “They’ll kill you!”