Secret Baby for the Merciless Don

2

“Trust me, I’m aware.” It’s the only reason I was allowed to apply.

“Good. For what it’s worth, I hope you have fun. Do everything your heart desires while you’re away at college. We both know you’ll be back. You’ll be a good little Italian girl and return home.”

“f**k you, Roman.”

He simply smiles. I decide I’ve spent enough time in his presence. After one last look, I jump down from the countertop. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten that I’m still slightly inebriated. Roman moves fast, reaching me in time to catch me before I face-plant on the floor.

His arms encircle my waist. When those dark blue eyes meet mine, there’s only one clear emotion shining through.

Pure, unadulterated hatred.

What did I ever do to you, Roman?

We’re both frozen, our eyes locked on each other. I can feel his touch around my waist acutely. I can’t remember the last time he willingly touched me. The scent of his cologne surrounds me, musky and a little citrusy. Roman’s gaze flickers down to my lips and for a second, the ludicrous idea that he would actually kiss me snakes into my mind.

He lets me go abruptly and I tumble back, my back digging into the countertop. My jaw clenches. I don’t thank him for saving me from the fall, and he doesn’t say a word either.

I’m about to leave but think better of it, turning around to say one last thing.

“Take care of Jackass Two and Three for me.” He doesn’t look at me, but I know he’s listening. I continue, “As much as it pains me to admit, you might be the most responsible of the bunch. Keep my brother from getting any STDs and make sure Mike doesn’t get himself killed.”

Roman smiles, amused. “And why the hell should I do that for you?”

“Not for me, do it for your best friends. Do it for your family.”

His eyes trail over my face. “As much as it pains me to admit,” he says, parroting my words. “You’re part of my family, too. Don’t let anything happen to you, Elena. I’ll burn Boston to the ground if that happens.”

I nod once in understanding before walking away. I know it’s the last time I’ll speak to him before leaving for college. He’s wrong, though—he said I’d return home like a good little Italian girl. But I have no plans to. Even after graduation, I won’t return to New York. I’ll find a job and I’ll be happy and content. I’ll do anything not to fit into the boxes that have been laid out for me. After all, I wouldn’t be Elena Legan if I didn’t fight back.

CHAPTER 2

Roman de Luca

PRESENT DAY

A

person whose name I can’t remember once said that there are four kinds of homicide: felonious, excusable, justifiable, and praiseworthy. Growing up in my world, I’ve learned to add one more kind—the necessary kind. The one where you have no choice. And there’s another kind of homicide, one I figured out all on my own. The enjoyable kind. The type of homicide that offers gratification.. Like I’m taking scum off the street.

“Think very carefully about what you’re doing, Vincent,” my father says calmly.

I’ve known the man my whole life and I can’t say I’ve ever heard him raise his voice. Not even when he’s angry. I’m dying to move forward and slam Vincent’s head into a wall, but he’s surrounded by several men. There aren’t any weapons out yet. We don’t want this meeting to end in a bloodbath.

Vincent called us here seeking a truce, an end to the battle we’ve been fighting these past few days. Ever since he managed to convince a few of my father’s most trusted capos to turn coat and betray us.

“I have thought carefully,” Vincent says, trying to sound just as calm and confident as my father does.

But he’s betrayed by the slight hitch in his voice. I even catch the tremble in his hands. f*****g coward. If he wasn’t brave enough to stand up to the Don, then he never should have started this farce of a coup in the first place. I glance around. My father and I might have been a little over-confident by bringing only seven men. Vincent brought twelve. Again, coward.

I’m more furious at the men surrounding him. They used to work for us. Trusted men that benefitted from my family. If they weren’t content with the way things were run, they should have come to us. Instead, they decided to side with a dead man.

“And you think this is the right course of action? What are you going to do, Vin? Kill me?” Father questions with a slight curl of his lips.

“You really think I can’t do it?” Vincent scoffs.

He’s as old as my father with thinning dark hair and brown eyes, a tall, stout man with an eye for trouble. He taught me how to shoot a gun when I was eight years old. That’s why all this is pissing me off so much. Because Vincent wasn’t just a member of our organization—we considered him family.

“I’ve been preparing for this for a long time,” he continues, and I want so badly to punch the smug smile off his face. “I know the ins and outs of every single part of the De Luca business. I’ve managed to convince most of our biggest suppliers and investors to back me. I have the support of the Russos. Do you really think there’s anything you could do to stop me?”

Outwardly, I don’t show any emotion at the mention of the Russos, but inside, I’m seething. The Russos and my family have hated each other for years. Like us, they’re one of the five families in the Italian mafia that dominates the underworld in New York City. The only difference is while my family’s empire has grown, they’ve slunk backwards, choosing to retreat to the shadows. They still have some power and influence, but we have much more. It comes as no surprise that they’re backing Vincent in his bid to overthrow my father. But it still stings that Vincent went behind our back to broker a deal with them.

“Are you going to tell us why you called for this meeting or are you gonna keep boring us to death?” I question, faking a yawn.

Vincent glares while my father’s gaze cuts sharply to me. He hates it when people speak out of turn. Or when they speak without being spoken to. But I’m getting tired of all the posturing and conversation.

When do I get to break someone’s skull?

Vincent lets out a wry laugh. “Speak only when spoken to, Rome. Or have you forgotten all your dad’s lessons?”

I grit my teeth but don’t reply.

My dad speaks up. “What is it that you want exactly, Vincent?”

“Easy. I want you to step down. Denounce your title and leave me in charge. If you do, I’ll spare you and your family.”

A chuckle escapes me. “That’s a joke, right?”

My dad glares at me again. I inwardly sigh.

“We both know that won’t happen, Vincent. How about I propose another deal? Stop this entire charade, and I’ll even let you live. You’ll only be missing a few fingers by the end.”

He’s smiling by the end of that statement. Anybody who didn’t know the Don would think he was only joking. But he’s being f*****g serious. I’ve witnessed first-hand my dad pulling off fingers with pliers. He can be ruthless when spited, and Vincent’s betrayal is the biggest one of all. Considering they’ve known each other for most of their adult life.

“You’re not taking me seriously,” Vincent says with a frown. “How about I let you know just how f*****g serious I am?”

It all happens so fast. Vincent pulls out a gun and he aims at the man closest to my father. Before I can reach for mine, a pop cuts through the air. It’s loud. Loud enough to cause a ringing in my ears. Everyone around me stills, and it feels like an eternity before the gravity of the situation hits me. But it’s actually only a second or two before we all move into action.

I grab my gun from the back of my shirt. The weight feels like an added limb. It soothes me, only slightly, as I turn to the person slumped on the floor with blood oozing from his chest. I stare at Miguel for a second. My cousin, my family, and he’s dead.

Something chilly rolls through my veins.

“Nobody move,” I say, my eyes trained on Vincent.

The men surrounding him have their guns out, as well. We’re outnumbered and I have my father to thank for that. He was determined to prove that Vincent wasn’t an important enough threat. I think a part of him believed his friend would eventually start to see sense. But he was wrong. And now, there will be hell to pay.

The Don is already prepared, a gun in his hands. His eyes are pitch black, fury rolling off him in waves. There are four men surrounding him, trying to shield him with their bodies. It’s the kind of loyalty that can’t be bought. Some of the men are our family, others are close enough to be referred to as such. They swore to protect us with their lives, and from the looks on their faces, they plan to do so.

By not joining Vincent, they’ve proven that they take their vows seriously.

“f*****g cazzo,” Michael swears beside me.

His muscles are coiled tight. That’s our cousin dead on the floor. Our brother. Tony’s on my other side, a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. His gaze keeps slipping back to Miguel on the floor. They were close. In our line of business, you have to prepare yourself for death every once in a while. But it’s been a long time since we lost anybody.

“I’m going to kill him,” I spit. The words are a promise.

“Vincent!” my father roars.

I catch the slight twinge of fear in Vincent’s expression. He looks like he can’t believe what he just did. He knows better than anybody that he just started a war. The time for negotiations is past. There’s no going back after this.

I’ve always been great at reading people, expressions, body language. I minored in psychology in college. I wanted to understand what made people tick, why they do the things they do. That understanding is the only reason why I’m able to detect the minute Vincent’s expression changes to one of resignation and acceptance.

My eyes widen as I watch him whisper something to one of the men guarding him. Then his eyes meet my father’s. Time slows. Everything that happens next plays out in slow motion. All it takes is one shot. My dad realizes what’s about to happen the exact same moment it happens. All he can do is raise his gun and fire a shot of his own. But it’s no use. The bullet meets his forehead and Ricardo De Luca falls down. There’s no mistaking the fact that he’s dead.

The first thing that comes to mind is that he knew. Vincent knew my father was wearing a bulletproof vest, which is why he shot at the one place he wouldn’t be able to survive. He killed him without blinking an eye. A man he has known for several decades. A man that gave him a chance when no one else did, and he shot him without a second thought.