The Cossimo Mafia Triplets And Their Favorite Doll

CHAPTER 1. CHARA’S POV. “Don’t think too much about it, honey. Once you settle back home, everything will be fine.” My mother’s cheerful voice streamed through my phone’s speaker. ‘Everything will be fine.’ I wish I could believe that. But as my hand smoothed the dried leaves on the headstone of my father’s grave, any avenue to hope grew bleak. I sniffled once, then tightened my shoulders. “I highly doubt that, Mom. Ever since Dad died, it’s gone from bad to worse. I got laid off from work, my landlord sold his house, and I had to sleep in my car all night .” I glanced at the old, rickety Chevrolet with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what to do.” “I know you miss him; I do too. But honey, it's time to move on.” I wished I could believe that. She divorced my dad when I was twelve, left the States, and never returned. Not until she invited me for the holidays three years ago to Italy. 'To catch up.' She'd said. I did more than catch up. i fell into the arms of the three devils of Sicily. Three months…and my life never remained the same. “I thought I would have some more time. Maybe some money so I can stay in a cheap motel or something.” “I already booked your flight. Once you land, your new brothers will be there to pick you up from the airport. Call me anytime, honey.” “Wait…today?” I blinked. "Sorry, you're married?!" "Yeah." She giggled. "I would have told you sooner, but you know how you can be. Well, now you know! When you come home, we can catch up." I sighed, already with an incoming headache. I didn't ask; I didn't want to. My mother wasn’t anything cheap. if she married anyone, it would be a very wealthy man, but I hated asking her for anything I couldn’t repay. “No. Chara. You left Italy three years ago without a word. Now, you need to get back. I won't let my daughter sleep in some cheap motel. Come home, Chara. It’s time.” She hung up. I stared at my phone’s screen for a second, then at the headstone. Antonio De La Vista. Aged 57. Forever in our hearts, and in the bosom of our lord. I wanted to scrape it off. I wanted to return to the past and prevent my father from smoking so much. If I could, I would have prevented his lung cancer; somehow. But it was too late, and as much as I dreaded returning to Italy, I knew I had no choice. “I love you, Dad.” I whimpered, fighting back tears as I pulled off his part of the heart bracelet we shared since I was five. I placed it on the stone, right beside his name. “This isn’t goodbye. I’ll be back; I promise.” I pressed my lips to it, got to my feet, and without a second look, I turned around, not daring to stop until I entered my car, kicked the old engine to life, and drove to the airport. My phone vibrated with a text from my mom. “This is the E-ticket, Chara. Can't wait to see you! X.” My grip tightened around the wheel. When I stopped in front of the airport, my breathing turned a little stuffy. I pulled out my suitcase, went in, did the procedure, and about fifteen minutes later, I sat in business class, headphones plugged in so Olivia Rodrigo blasted through my earbuds. In ten hours, I would be back in Italy. In their kingdom. All I had to do was stay as far away from them as possible, and I’d be fine. How hard could that be? -- The ear-curdling sound of a child screaming nearby, plus airplanes taking off, filled my ears as I walked out of the airport, dragging my suitcase behind me. I stood right at the front, eyebrows pulled together in search of anyone waiting with my name. I didn’t find anyone. I dialled my mother, and luckily, she picked up on the first ring. “Honey?” “Mom, I just landed…but there’s no one here.” “That’s not right. They should be there by now.” She muttered. “T-they?” No. It can't be. My ears filled with a slow, ringing sound as I looked around, my grip tightening around my phone as my skin lit with a mix of dread and anticipation. My lower belly coiled almost painfully, forcing a shaky breath out of me. “Mom, w-who are they?” “I…” “Chara.” A different voice said. A familiar voice. A breath rushed out of me, my grip on my phone loosening as my entire body froze. I knew that voice; I could recognize it any day, any time. The memories from three years ago, the three months I’d tried so hard to forget, rushed through my mind. It’s a dream. I didn’t hear him…it can't be him. If it were, I’d hear the two of them as well; they moved together; the devils of Italy. “Three years, il mio peccato. You don’t want to look at me.” (My sin.) There it was; all the proof I needed. Only one man ever called me that: Cesare Cossimo. I finally turned around, slowly, in case this was still a dream. But the moment my eyes saw his black shoes that glistened in the Italian sun, I knew without a doubt; it was him. he took a step closer, until I breathed in his familiar woodsy scent. Memories flashed through my mind: their hands on my hips, my leg hooked over his waist while he railed into me. His breathy voice, brushing against my skin; ‘Mia Cara, you feel like mine.’ ‘Like ours.’ Giovanni would growl, and in seconds, I’d finish, whilst wrapped around his nerve. Cesare’s grey eyes gleamed with the same possessiveness and recognition I’d have known anywhere. A flicker of something flashed through his eyes. I blinked, waiting for him to vanish, but he didn’t. He nodded behind me, and at once, my suitcase left my grip. I turned to see who it was. Dante. He stood at his full 6’8 height, making me crane my neck higher just to meet his gaze. With that familiar stoic expression, though anger burned in his gaze, he said; “Welcome home, Chara.” “We’ve been waiting for you.” Cesare Cossimo. Dante Cossimo. Giovanni Cossimo. The three infamous triplet mafia kings of Italy… my stepbrothers; three men who owned every inch of my body, mind, and soul months ago; for three months. Until the night I found out about the wedding. And ran. “I…” I swallowed. “My mom s-said someone is coming to pick me up.” “We are.” “I’m not g-going anywhere with you.” I looked at the three of them, defiantly whilst reaching for my suitcase. In a flash of a second, Dante’s arm wrapped around my waist, holding me still against his front. “Let me go!” “You weren’t saying that the last time, Chara; were you?” “I remember everything that happened the last time I was here, Dante.” I hissed. “Let me go.” “No.” The corners of his lips lifted with a grin. “f**k I'm pissed at you, but I’ve missed you, my spitfire.” “I am not your anything. I don’t belong to any of you. Now let me go so I can take a cab. My mom’s waiting for me.” “She isn’t.” Cesare and Giovanni stepped forward. Their familia tattoo peeked from the open collars of their black shirts. They slipped their hands inside their pockets, their faces identical. Behind them, two men in black suits stood by the curb, hands tucked inside their jackets, eyes on every door. “What?” “Your mother isn’t in Italy, Chara,” Dante whispered against my earlobe, earning a shiver from me. “She left you to us, Doll,” Giovanni added. “And we are not letting you go anywhere.” Cesare finished. "W-wait..." My eyes widened with horror. "Y-you're my new b-brothers." "Stepbrothers, doll." Giovanni said with a chuckle. "Let's not make this...incestuous." I swallowed, throat suddenly burning. The last time I shared a space with them, it turned…heated. If I spent one day in their orbit, it would only be a matter of time until I’d succumb to them. And now, they're my stepbrothers. They should be forbidden fruit to me...yet I couldn't help the way my body shivered at the memories I thought I'd buried. Without letting me go, Dante moved us, whilst dragging my suitcase to a waiting limousine. Giovanni slid in first. Cesare held the door, one brow raised, and ordered in a gruff tone; “Get in.” “I…” “That’s not a request, Chara.” Dante chuckled. I searched their faces for mercy, and the curb for an exit. But I knew these three; there was no way I’d outrun them, especially in Italy. They owned the country. Maybe he grew impatient, but whilst I contemplated my choices, Dante pulled me in smoothly, guiding my head so I wouldn’t hit the car roof. Cesare slid in beside him and shut the door. “Drive” Dante flicked the partition shut. His hands tightened around my hips as he dropped me…right on his growing erection, spreading my thighs apart so my knee-length dress rode higher until it reached mid-thigh. I gasped, palms flat against his chest, and hated how my body leaned in anyway, the way it always had. “Tell us, piccola.” (Little) Giovanni fell to his knees in front of my spread thighs. “Are you as… sweet as we remember?” “I guess we’ll have to find out.” Cesare said with a soft chuckle, and Dante pulled my dress up higher until my pink lacy thong was exposed. That was when my phone buzzed against my hip. One text, from my mother. ‘Be good to your brothers, honey. They’ll take care of you.’