Bloodied Hands: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 1)

by Adelaide Forrest

  Bloodied hands

  Bellandi Crime Syndicate #1

  Adelaide Forrest

  Disclaimer

  Bloodied Hands is a full-length standalone novel with crime syndicate members and dark, as well as adult, content. Please read at your own discretion, as some may find the material offensive.

  The Bellandi Crime Syndicate Series will include several full-length standalones with HEA that can be read in any order, but would present a better reading experience following the suggested order.

  Bloodied Hands Copyright © 2020 by Adelaide Forrest. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Adelaide Forrest

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Adelaide Forrest

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: January 2020 Adelaide Forrest

  About the Author

  Adelaide lives in her tiny house with her husband and two rambunctious kids. When she's not chasing all three of them and her shepherd/husky mix around the house, she spends all her free time writing and adding to the hoard of plots stored on her bookshelf and hard-drive.

  She always wanted to write, and did from the time she was ten and wrote her first full-length fantasy novel. The subject matter has changed over the years, but that passion for writing never went away. She has a degree in Psychology, and prior to having her kids she worked as a therapist using horses in her treatment strategy and working with adults and kids with disabilities.

  Adelaide started her journey as a published author in September 2019 with her other pen name, Kenna Bardot, where she writes reverse harem. Having achieved her passion, she's expanding with the launch of Adelaide Forrest.

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  Dedication

  For every person who has ever heard the words

  "Don't quit your day job."

  Prologue

  Twelve years ago.

  Ivory

  I smiled up at Matteo, watching the way his eyes lit up with amusement as I giggled at him. He'd teased me, tormented me about the shyness I still felt when he touched me, although I'd given him my virginity a week prior. There was no way I could feel anything but shy, not with the way his stare had taken on a new brand of heat.

  There hadn't been a repeat performance, even though I'd desperately wanted one. We didn't have a place to go, not without ruining my reputation, and Matteo maintained that I was too sweet for a backseat romp in his car.

  I begged to differ, at least after what he'd shown me sex was like.

  The humor in his eyes fled suddenly, disappearing to a cold mask I didn't enjoy seeing on his face when he stared over my shoulder. It wasn't unusual. That distant expression of his was what everyone else saw of Matteo Bellandi. When I turned his face back to mine and caught his eyes with my own, the smile slid from my face, slowly morphing to apprehension.

  He stared down at me with the same cruel expression.

  The one that he never used for me.

  "We should talk, Ivory." Even his tone had gone cold. No life to it, his humor of only a moment ago a thing of the past.

  I just didn't realize it would be the last time I felt like I mattered - like I was special.

  Ivory.

  Not his Angel.

  But Ivory.

  I flinched back, my hand leaving the smooth skin of his jaw as I stared up at him in confusion. I couldn't think of what I might have done to warrant such a change in behavior.

  "What's wrong?" I whispered.

  "Graduation is in a few days. It's time for us to go our separate ways." I would have sworn I knew Matteo - would have sworn I knew the boy I loved with every fiber of my being enough to recognize the tick in his jaw. The frustration eating at his face, even beneath the impenetrable coldness that he emanated.

  I was wrong.

  "Wh-what?" I stuttered, flinching when his arms released my waist and he stepped back to a more polite distance. I eyed the other students, hating that they were watching me have my heart ripped out. He blindsided me and judging by the whispers breaking out among the teens lingering on the front lawn of the school, I wasn't the only one.

  "Come on, Ivory. You didn't really think I would go off to college in the fall with a High School girlfriend tying me down, did you?" He ran a hand through his hair, tossing a flirty smile over my shoulder at some unknown person behind me. He hadn't even finished dumping me, and he was already flirting.

  "Why? Why did you-why did you fuck me if you were just going to dump me?" I hissed, steeling myself and trying to control the tears that threatened to make an appearance. No matter how shattered I felt, I couldn't let him see it.

  "Have you looked in a mirror?" He smirked at me, as if taking my virginity and dumping me within a week was acceptable. "You're a hot piece of ass, baby. Getting in your pants was kind of the point of the entire year I spent getting you there. Now I've had it." He shrugged, and I winced.

  I didn't know this boy.

  I didn't know him at all.

  "You don't mean that," I pleaded, my voice a hoarse whisper as I started to lose the battle with my own emotions. "You can't mean that," I repeated.

  "Sweet, naïve Ivory. What world do you live in, so stuck up in that pretty little head of yours? The lion doesn't love the lamb, Ivory. Especially not just one of them when there’s an entire field begging to be eaten." He shook his head at me, pressing a thumb to my quivering lips, the lips he claimed to love so much. "You weren't bad...for a virgin." A startled sob broke free. "See you around, Ivory. Hey, Shauna! Wait up!" he called, jogging around my frozen body.

  Shauna.

  The girl he'd been screwing before he started dating me. The one who had spent an entire year tormenting me that he’d finish with me soon enough, and he always went back to her.

  I stood frozen, only snapping out of my trance when Sadie appeared at my side. "Hey, sweetie. Let's get you out of here, yeah?" she asked, and I think I nodded. Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn't understand why.

  I wasn't sad.

  I didn't feel anything.

  Deep down, I knew that wasn't normal. I shouldn't be numb.

  It was only high school, only my first love. There would be others, I tried to remind myself.

  But even then, I knew no one would ever make me feel the way Matteo did.

  I turned to leave, but Duke invaded my other side, ushering me off the lawn and away from the direction Matteo had gone. It didn't stop me from seeing him, his arm wrapped around Shauna with one hand tucked into the ass pocket of her jeans.

  Still there was nothing but a vibration in my ears, as disbelief coursed through me.

  I loved him.

  And I'd been nothing all along. Nothing but another notch on his bedpost.

  Sadie murmured to me, letting Duke tuck me into his side as they led me to his car in the parking lot. Sadie climbed into the back seat, leaving me to be the passenger. Duke drove with a hand resting on my knee, making circles with his thumb that should have been comforting.

  I
t wasn't until we got to my house and they guided me to my bed that I broke down in sobs.

  The bed he'd made love to me on.

  Well, apparently the bed he'd fucked me on.

  "Shh, it's okay sweetheart," Duke soothed, wrapping his arms around me and tucking me into his chest. "You’re going to be just fine."

  "I love him," I whined.

  His body stilled, before he ran a hand through my hair. "I know, honey. I know you do. He's such an idiot." I vaguely knew of Sadie's sniffles behind me, where she ran a hand up and down my back supportively.

  "I can never go back to school," I protested, realizing everyone had seen my very public humiliation.

  "You will march your ass into that school tomorrow with your head held high and pretend you do not give the first fuck about him.” I nodded in response, but we both knew it was bullshit. I wasn't Sadie. I wasn't strong enough to pretend something like that.

  We lapsed into silence, my heart hardening with every tear that fell.

  I would never be heartbroken again.

  No man was worth this.

  One

  Ivory

  With the tenderloin smeared in dijon mustard and wrapped in duxelle covered prosciutto cooling in the fridge, I set to laying out my puff pastry in preparation. I rolled it, needing that perfect quarter of an inch thickness so I wouldn't overcook my beef while I waited for the pastry to bake to golden perfection.

  "You're insane, you know, that right?" Sadie asked.

  "And why am I insane today, my darling?" I teased her, thanking the sweet baking gods that her sense of humor had never changed.

  "Why are you making a Beef Wellington again? Your food isn't usually so pretentious, even with that fancy culinary degree of yours that didn't see much use." She raised her brows at me, as if daring me to contradict her.

  I used my degree.

  Just not in a restaurant or catering business.

  "I'm doing a new series. Kind of a food bucket list, I guess. I'm torn between calling it Food to Eat Before you Kick It or Famous Last Meals. I had readers submit the best foods they've ever eaten and made my own recipes from what they submitted." I trimmed the edges of my pastry to what I knew I would need to wrap up my beef.

  Contrary to what Duke might think, I cooked a recipe at least half a dozen times before it was ready for the blog. There was a reason that I was always happy to let him taste test, and by taste test I meant eat the entire thing once I had a feel for the flavor profile I'd created.

  Eating the same thing over and over was exhausting.

  No matter how amazing it tasted.

  "Clever," Duke chuckled, always supportive of me and my passion. Though it wasn't surprising. Sadie was my kick ass and take names best friend who ran a boxing gym. Duke was a close second for the best friend status. The dreamer of our trio, he was a successful sculptor who had somehow defied the odds and made a real career for himself in an impossible industry.

  In his head, if that was possible, well then so was my blog. And it had been, the whole thing grew faster than I could handle, and I found myself overwhelmed with trying to keep up with it. But whereas working in the restaurant and running a catering business had been purely exhausting, the blog was a good stress.

  It distracted me from the fact that I wasn't getting any younger. Distracted me from the fact that I still hadn't fallen in love since my sophomore year of high school. I pulled the beef from the fridge, setting the plate down next to my puff pastry on my white marble counter. I'd bought the house just outside the city for a steal, knowing it was a dump. The affordable price left me with enough in my budget to fix it up slowly as I made money. Once I'd quit my job at the restaurant, money had been inconsistent and unreliable. Whether catering or with my blog, I could easily have a slow month anytime, so keeping my monthly expenses low was critical for me.

  I paid cash for just about everything I did.

  Slowly, my beloved house was coming together. I finished my kitchen and master bedroom, my sanctuaries in a house that was otherwise...shit.

  It was otherwise shit.

  But I loved my counters, and the natural lighting was perfection for photos for the blog. "It sounds interesting, I suppose," Sadie relented, and I smiled at her teasingly. It wasn't often that she relented her somewhat more assertive opinions. From Sadie, saying it was interesting meant the idea must have rocked.

  I'd take it. Her lips pursed into a smile she tried to fight, giving away that she knew I saw right through her crap.

  "When can I eat this thing?" Duke asked, eyes narrowed on where my hands oh so carefully lifted the beef and rested it in the center of my pastry. After a quick wash of my hands, I set to wrapping it up and sealing it tight. I brushed it, cutting the top to release air as it baked, and fought the urge to chuckle when Duke cleared his throat at me, still waiting for an answer.

  Honestly, he should know better. I'd answer when I finished with my step.

  "It has to bake for 40-45 minutes," I said after I'd placed the sheet in the oven and set the timer. He groaned, and I chuckled at him as I set to washing my fingerling purple potatoes in the sink opposite them. The task meant I couldn't see them, but after over a decade with them I knew exactly what they would do as soon as I turned around.

  Make faces at me. Because we were mature like that.

  I ignored it.

  "Why purple potatoes?" Sadie asked when she finally realized she'd failed to get a reaction from me.

  "They're a little denser and nuttier in flavor. Mostly, I just prefer them because they look so fucking pretty on the plate," I admitted. "For something as visual as the blog, and especially the more visual social media sites, that's super important."

  "You keep cooking like this, and I'm liable to get fat." I snorted a laugh at her, pressing my face into the back of my forearm.

  "Please," I laughed. For my 4'11" friend, who was so fit she could take out a full-grown boxer in minutes, getting fat was ridiculous. Stacked with lean muscles, even Duke was fit with forearms sculpted like a Greek God.

  When I said he was a sculptor, I meant a mixed materials sculptor. He was just as likely to work with wood or metal as he was with clay. The man didn't discriminate, and some of those materials required some serious strength.

  I'd tried to help him once.

  Let's just say it hadn't gone well.

  At all.

  Now in his words I just sat there and looked pretty. I loved to watch him work but learned my lesson quickly and stayed out of his way.

  As soon as I had the potatoes set to roast and popped them in my double oven, I moved on to setting up the place setting for the photos in my little breakfast nook. "Soooo...." I stilled. It was never a good sign when Sadie hesitated to speak her mind, and I knew exactly where she was going.

  Where she was always going.

  "There's this guy, he comes into the gym."

  "Sadie," Duke warned on a growl. He was my fervent defender. I didn't need to date, not when it always ended in disaster.

  "She can't stay a marriage pit forever!" Sadie hissed. "Eventually, she will have to open herself up to considering getting there with one of these guys, but the only way that will happen is if she dates, Duke."

  "I hate it when you call me that." I winced, setting a plate down on the table a little too loudly.

  "It's true, Ive." Her voice gentled as I made my way back to the space behind the island where my two friends sat, staring at me as if we were walking a very dangerous line. "Ben wanted to introduce you to his parents, and you bolted. Chris proposed, and you never saw him again. They were both amazing guys. You're a marriage pit. Too afraid to let anyone in."

  "Stop it, Sadie," Duke said, eyeing the way my hands clutched the island like I could break it.

  "It's been over ten years." Sadie's voice gentled with sadness, and I could feel what I hated to hear in her voice more than anything. The pity.

  Because we both knew I was broken.

  Broken in a way
that I would eventually have to accept that love just would not happen for me.

  Never again.

  “Maybe it’s time to look at what’s right in front of you,” she whispered cryptically, and I felt my brow tense in confusion.

  "I don't see you with a ring on your finger," Duke snapped, and I raised my eyes to them.

  "Stop it, both of you," I reprimanded them. "If I go out with this guy from the gym will you lay off?"

  Sadie's eyes lit with hope, and she nodded. "You gonna give him an actual chance?" There was skepticism in her loud, honey-toned voice. I hated knowing that I'd put it there after twelve years of failed romances and first dates that went nowhere.

  "Yes," I agreed. "I'm tired of being alone. It's time I tried to find a decent man, a good man. Someone who can give me a content life, if not an overwhelming romance." I gave a bitter smile, ignoring the pained look on Duke's face. He'd always encouraged me to practice self-healing, to put myself and my mental health before a relationship. I didn't want to disappoint him, but it was time to accept that some things just couldn't be fixed.

  I was one of them.

  "How's the gym?" I asked, washing some extra mushrooms. I needed the change of conversation desperately, and I knew Duke well enough to know he was too busy worrying about me to be the one to grant it.

  Sadie allowed it, thankfully. She knew she'd pushed as far as was intelligent for one day. She twiddled with her loose, wavy dark brown hair as she turned warm honey brown eyes my way. "It's great. You know I love it there and business is booming."

  "I'm sure prancing around in your tight little workout clothes has nothing to do with that," I chuckled. She returned the humor, shrugging like she didn't have a care in the world.