Savage Ruler: A Dark Italian - Irish Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Sinfully Savage)

by Kristen Luciani

  I nod. “Yeah. And guess what else? He might not wait for confirmation because that’s the kind of guy he is. He’s the type who slashes first, worries never.”

  Declan paces in front of his desk, running a hand over his balding head. “I can’t lose her,” he says, turning away from me. “We’ve already lost so much.”

  He murmurs that last part and I don’t press because it’s irrelevant. The only thing I need to know is that he doesn’t want to lose anything else, which he certainly will if left on his own to battle Dominguez.

  “Declan, you know arranging this marriage is the only way for you to save your family,” I say. “It will preserve your fortune and keep your daughter and your future safe from harm.”

  He turns to me, a questioning look in his eyes. “Why Heaven when you could have asked for anything else?”

  I shrug. “Because I see the value in aligning our interests beyond just protection. We can both benefit from the arrangement, financially and otherwise. I’m looking at the long game here. This arrangement is an investment in the future.” I fold my arms across my chest. “You have to explain to Heaven that this is the only way, that our business partnership alone isn’t enough to wedge us together as an all-powerful force, that the only way to really keep everyone safe is to ensure that there are family ties that bond us. Tell her the marriage will protect everyone, including her position in your organization. I have a feeling that will strike a chord with her.”

  “How do you know anything about her?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

  “Because I do my research.” Her father obviously doesn’t know that she has the same MO as me. And good to know she has a trusted source in her brother, Patrick. Seems like Declan has no clue about their illicit encounters at my townhouse the other night. “I wouldn’t just make this kind of offer without knowing exactly what I’m getting in return for my services.”

  Declan grunts something in reply, pacing once again. He stops near one of the tall windows lining his office, his shoulders slumping. “And Conor…Conor will be safe, too?”

  I allow a tight smile to stretch across my lips. “Yes.” I pause for a second, letting him contemplate his plight before I hammer him once again with the reality of the situation. The control is so close…just within reach. I just need to grab it! “You know exactly what will happen if you back down from this deal, Declan.” Oh, the fucking power. I crave it with everything in me, and having Heaven by my side it exactly what I need in order to keep it. “Don’t challenge me, otherwise you’ll find that you have more enemies than you know what to do with. Dominguez will be the least of your problems.”

  He looks up, a sneer on his face. “Is that supposed to be a threat, Villani?”

  I shake my head. “It’s a promise, one that you can’t afford for me to break.”

  Chapter Eight

  Heaven

  I pull off my baseball cap and peer into the mirror in the restroom, the fluorescent lights casting an evil glare on my bruised face. Everything happened so quickly this morning — me diving for the gun, that scumbag dragging me out of the truck by my ankles, my head slamming so hard against the running board that I saw stars. I guess all the adrenaline kept me conscious and fighting like a hellcat because if I’d blacked out, there’s a good chance I’d be dead in that trunk.

  Or maybe anchored to the bottom of the Hudson.

  A shiver slithers down my spine.

  I was so grossly unprepared for that attack and there’s no excuse for it! How the fuck can I be the boss of my family when I can barely escape from that kind of ambush within an inch of my damn life?

  And Patrick? He’s supposed to be the goddamn enforcer!

  We were like the blind leading the blind, and I’m sure Conor loved every second that I spent recounting the story for my father. I fought the angry tears with every ounce of energy I could muster, but the reality was laser-sharp enough to cut through my heart.

  I’m vulnerable and exposed.

  Fucking weak.

  All of that equates to opportunity in Conor’s eyes.

  How can I possibly be a threat to Conor’s goals if I can barely survive that kind of attack? I had no weapon, no defense other than my hands and knees.

  And if I’m being honest, the only reason why we’re still alive is because they wanted it that way.

  Anyone who wanted us dead could have delivered on that easy enough.

  But who the hell could it have been? Yes, we have enemies, plenty of them, and something about my father’s reaction when I called told me that he knew about some kind of threat lurking, which pissed me off more than my inability to defend myself.

  He knew and never said a word? Never uttered so much as a warning to watch my back?

  Did Conor know too? The smug-ass look on his face told me he did.

  Are they kidding me? Patrick is laid up in bed with his chest taped up to keep his two broken ribs in place, for Christ’s sake! How could they have neglected to give me the heads-up that maybe some cock knocker out there wanted to send us a message?

  I swallowed my anger, though. I stayed with my brother and then came straight here to confront my father.

  Except Conor showed up right after I did, and Matteo Villani shortly thereafter.

  Seeing Matteo strut in here to talk business is just another slap in the face. No wonder why my father decided to look for an outside partner to handle things he clearly doesn’t trust me with. My head falls into my hands, the tears stinging my eyes. And why should he trust me? I’ve already proven in the past that I falter when push comes to shove.

  Those memories haunt me every day.

  I clench my teeth and my fists, screaming at the top of my lungs and shattering the mirror in my mind.

  In reality?

  I take a deep breath, splash some water on my flushed cheeks, tuck my hair under the cap once again, and leave the room. It’s only a matter of time before my father summons me to make the introductions since he doesn’t know that his newest business partner had his head buried between my legs the night before.

  Just one more reason for him to completely doubt my ability to lead our family.

  A swift knock on the door jolts me from my pity-party. “Yeah?” I call out to whoever is standing outside.

  “Heaven, Dad’s looking for you.”

  I nod. I recognize the voice of my youngest brother, Quinn.

  “Be right there.” I take a deep breath, my eyes trained on my reflection. I slam my fist on the edge of the sink. “Do not fucking crumble, Heaven,” I whisper-shout. “No matter what happens, you do not crumble like a goddamn stale cookie! You go in there and you tell Dad what you see for the future and what you want for the family! You do not back down, ever! You show him your strength! You show him why you’re the right choice to lead, not Conor!”

  I pull my cap down low and pull open the door, pulling myself up to my full height when I see Quinn out in the hallway waiting for me.

  “You okay?” he asks, a look of concern on his face.

  “Yeah.” I purse my lips. “How’s Patty?”

  “Resting. I sent a couple of the girls to go and stay with him.”

  I nod, a smile tugging at my lips.

  By girls, Quinn means the bleached blonde, fake-boobed bartenders who are always flirting like mad with Patrick. If he were in better shape, he’d be tearing off their panties with his teeth right about now.

  Let’s just say he was very inspired after we left Matteo’s sex lair the other night.

  And he’s okay. That’s the most important thing to remember.

  He’s safe. Just like me.

  Things could have turned out differently, but they didn’t, a fact that Dad needs to understand.

  Quinn winks at me. “The Italian Stallion is with Dad and Conor in the office.”

  I roll my eyes. “Great. I can’t wait to join the party.”

  “Maybe they have information about who jumped you guys.” Quinn falls into step next to m
e. “It coulda been really bad, Heaven. You guys got lucky.”

  Yeah, except I don’t feel so lucky. I feel like a girl who’s about to have the rug pulled out from under her because she lost focus.

  A-fucking-gain.

  We reach the end of the hallway and I force a smile for Quinn. He’s a good kid. All of my brothers are. Hell, Conor even used to be one of the good ones before Mom died. But we lost him to the life. He never could find balance and is a huge liability to all of us.

  But he’s a guy in a fucking sexist world so he gets top billing.

  And I’m a girl who keeps falling into the same damn traps expecting a different outcome.

  Now we have a third party to muck shit up even more.

  Then again, nobody ever promised that mafia life would be all wine and roses.

  It’s more like one filled with toxins, bullets, and machetes — roses only come into play in our inevitable funeral arrangements.

  So fucking glamorous, right?

  I give Quinn a little punch in the shoulder and he disappears around the corner as I knock on my father’s office door.

  “Come in,” he calls out.

  I squeeze my eyes shut for a split second before pushing it open. My long ponytail spills down my left shoulder, my head held high and steady as I saunter into the room. In my periphery, I can see Conor grimace as I walk past him and sink onto the couch directly in front of my father’s desk. I’ve learned that standing when everyone else is sitting is perceived as being confrontational, and since I already feel like I’m on the defensive, I decide to let my guard down to start.

  We’ll see how things go from there.

  A knot of warmth coils in my belly as a quick, sidelong glance confirms that Matteo’s gaze is locked on me. I press my lips together, followed by my knees, but it doesn’t stop the tingling sensation that erupts in my core as the scent of his cologne wafts through the air and under my nose.

  I lace my fingers together, impatiently waiting for my father to begin this meeting.

  The faster it starts, the faster it ends, and the faster I can get away from the man who stripped me down to the studs — literally and figuratively.

  “I got some disturbing news today, Heaven,” Dad starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “News that will force us to take action, swift action.”

  “Dad,” I say, gripping the arms of the chair tight. “I understand your concern about that attack, and I’d like to share some of my ideas about how we will handle the retaliation, but I don’t think we need present company for that conversation,” I say in a sharp voice with a pointed look at Matteo.

  I furrow my brow.

  Did that cocky bastard just smirk at me?

  Dad looks at Matteo, then at Conor, and finally back to Matteo.

  Okay, I am thoroughly confused right now.

  Why the hell isn’t my father looking at me?

  How am I the goddamn afterthought?

  Blood rushes between my ears, making it near-impossible to hear his voice when he finally speaks.

  I take a few deep breaths to calm the war raging inside of me, the one I want to launch on all three of the men in this room. And then I decide to say fuck it.

  Why fight this anymore? I need to show strength, dammit!

  I spring out of my chair, storming to the front of my father’s desk. “Can I know why the three of you look like you’re sharing some special secret that you have very rudely decided I shouldn’t be part of?” I look around the room. “I mean, you already went behind my back and made some kind of business arrangement with Villani. Now he’s involved in a personal attack on our family? What the hell ever happened to discretion and handling our issues ourselves?”

  “Heaven!” Dad bellows.

  But I’m just getting started. I storm over to Conor. “So you and this guy are just asshole buddies now, huh? You really think your little power play is going to shut me down? You think that just because it’s a boys’ club I can’t handle the really heavy stuff? Is that it?” I spin around, my nostrils flaring. “Is it?” I yell.

  “You need to calm the fuck down,” Conor mutters, and I twist around, shoving a finger at his chest.

  “Don’t you fucking tell me what to do! You have no control over me, Conor! Do you understand that? None! And if you think I’m just going to stand by and let you run this organization into the ground, you’re wrong!”

  “Heaven Margaret Mulligan!” Dad shouts, slamming his hand on the top of the desk. “Goddammit, stop this tirade!”

  I narrow my eyes, pushing past my brother and rooting him to the spot with a harsh glare before sneering at Matteo. “You know, before you go and open the barn door all the way, Dad, maybe you should consider that Villani here had something to do with that attack. Did you think about that before you invited him in to sniff our pile of dirty laundry?”

  “He’s here to help us, Heaven!”

  I blink fast. “What do you mean, help? I thought this was supposed to be a meeting to discuss a business partnership.”

  “It is a partnership,” Dad says, expelling a deep sigh. “Just not the type you were expecting.”

  When I look around the room, a sense of impending dread washes over me, and I feel my grip on the future slipping further away from me.

  It’s like I’m standing by, completely panicked but unable to do anything more than watch the world around me crumble.

  I remember that feeling all too well…

  “Tell me why he’s here,” I whisper, clenching my fists tight. “What does he have to do with the attack? What does he know that I don’t?”

  Dad looks at Conor again, but this time I can see the disgust in his eyes.

  Huh.

  Conor sure doesn’t look like the golden boy right now.

  At least there’s a sliver of hope for me to cling to.

  He walks back around the desk and puts his hands on my shoulders, his pale blue eyes tired and strained, his lined face pinched and worn. “What happened today…” he stops, gritting his teeth. “It was not supposed to happen. But Conor—”

  I swing around to grimace at my brother, but he averts his eyes.

  “Conor made a move against the Dominguez cartel. He went into one of their neighborhoods and killed one of the lieutenants along with a couple of the soldiers.

  My mouth drops open. “Who?”

  “Santos Rojas,” he murmurs.

  “Oh my God,” I say. Santos Rojas is second-in-command to Dominguez himself. If Conor took out Rojas…fuck. “They’re coming after us, aren’t they? Is that what today was about? Why didn’t they just kill us?”

  Dad rubs the back of his head. “We don’t know why, Heaven. But yes, they know what Conor did and they are planning to retaliate. Today was just a warning, to let us know we’re not safe from them. That’s the only reason why you and Patrick are still alive right now.”

  I fight the urge to leap at Conor and pound his face into the sheetrock he’s cowering next to for putting me and Patrick in the line of fire.

  Me, Patrick, and everyone else!

  How could he do something so stupid and selfish?

  “What would make you go into his territory and kill him?” I seethe.

  “I didn’t plan to kill him,” Conor mumbles.

  “Bullshit!” I scream. “Because that’s always your excuse! I didn’t mean it! I didn’t think the aftermath would be that bad! I didn’t want to fucking destroy my family!”

  “Heaven, stop—”

  “No, Dad,” I say, my voice tight. “I am tired of him getting a pass every time he screws up. Co-underboss, my ass!” I stalk toward him. “You don’t deserve to be in control of anything! Do you realize how bad this is? How you put everything and everyone at risk by pulling that stunt?” I spin toward my father. “Tell me, Dad. Are you going to sweep this under the rug, too? Because he’s a guy? Hm? I mean, when are we going to address the big ass elephant in the room? Because it sure seems that Conor has had his fair share of cock-
ups and you never seem to call him out on any of them!”

  Dad grips my arm, pulling me close. “Don’t speak to me in such a disrespectful manner, iníon. I am still in charge of this family, for fuck’s sake! And don’t you forget that!”

  I drop my head. “I’m sorry.”

  “What Conor did is inexcusable, but the fallout will be detrimental for our future unless we put a plan in place to stop the bleeding.”

  I nod. “Agreed, so then let’s discuss a plan to deal with it.”

  Dad shakes his head. “That’s not how we’re going to handle things, Heaven.”

  I stare at him, my brows knitted. “So what are we going to do? Just wait around for them to launch another attack, one where they decide that death is the preferable message?”

  “Waiting isn’t an option,” Matteo says, standing up from his chair.

  I roll my eyes over my shoulder. “I’m sure my father appreciates your input for some reason, but I don’t really care to have you weigh in on our family situation,” I say curtly.

  “Well, that’s the thing,” he replies. “I’m going to be part of it.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh and lift an eyebrow at my father. “Dad, really? Can you please ask him to wait outside or something so we can figure this out?” I give him another pointed glare. “In private.”

  Dad gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Heaven…”

  My throat tightens, wariness gripping me. I usually have to be on my toes because of whatever bullshit Conor pulls, but this is different.

  It feels different.

  Ominous and nerve-wracking, like I’m the only one standing in a pit of darkness while everyone else is drenched in light.

  And I don’t like it one single bit.

  Matteo doesn’t leave the office, and Dad makes no moves to escort him out.

  Conor continues to stare at the floor, and I am about ready to scream my head off.

  Actually…

  “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?” I roar, shaking my fists in the air.

  “There’s only one way to stop the Dominguez cartel, Heaven,” Dad says in a strained voice. “That’s why Matteo is here right now, why I reached out to him in the first place. The business partnership…” He grunts, turning away from me. “It’s actually a marriage partnership.”