Taming The Mafia Boss

4

Toni

I watched Vincent leave the room and forced myself into a sitting position. “Marco,” I whispered.

He came closer and knelt before me. “Toni,” he said simply. Only my brother called me by that name, but Marco had always played with us when we were little and knew me by the nickname.

My mother hadn’t raised me to beg, but I was desperate. I touched his hand. “Please help me. You were part of the Golden Gate. You can’t allow this.”

He pulled his hand away, his eyes hard. “I am part of the Pinecrest Carte.” He stood and looked down at me without a hint of emotion.

“What will happen to me? What does your Lord want with me?” I asked hoarsely.

For a second his eyes softened, and that was the most terrifying answer he could have given me. “The Golden Gate attacked us on our own territory. Vincent is out for retribution.”

Icy terror clawed at my insides. “But I have nothing to do with your business.”

“You don’t, but Nick is your uncle and your father and fiancé are high-ranking Golden Gate members.”

I looked down at my hands. My knuckles were chalk white from clutching the fabric of my dress. Then I noticed the red stains and quickly released the tulle. “So he’s going to make them pay by hurting me?” My voice broke. I cleared my throat, trying hard and failing to hold on to my composure.

“Vincent didn’t divulge his plan to me,” he said, but I didn’t believe him for one second. “He might use you to bribe your uncle into handing over parts of his territory ... or his Consigliere.”

Uncle Nick would never give up part of his territory, not even for family, no matter how much my mother begged him to, nor would he hand over one of his men, his Consigliere. He couldn’t, not for one girl. I was lost.

My vision swam again and I slumped back down onto the mattress. Through the fogginess I heard Vincent’s voice. “Change of plans. Let her Sleep the drugs out of her system while we drive. We’ve spent too much time at this place. Miguel called again. He suggests we head out now. He sent our helicopter to pick us up in Kansas. He heard from Grigory that Cavallaro has called upon every soldier to search for his niece and we are still on the fringes of his territory.”

Nick was trying to save me. Dad and Mark would be searching for me as well. And Anthony, my Anthony, would look for me. If we were still on Golden Gate territory not all hope was lost.

I woke in a car, curled into myself, half tangled in my dress. Marco was in the backseat beside me but didn’t look at me. Instead, he was checking the rear window. Another man sat in the front behind the wheel and beside him was Vincent.

I wasn’t sure if they’d given me another tranquilizer or if my body had trouble fighting the effects of the first injection. I hadn’t eaten all day and hardly had anything to drink. A low moan slipped past my lips.

Marco and Vincent both looked down at me. Vincent’s dark eyes sent a shiver of fear down my spine, but Marco’s gaze didn’t offer any consolation either. I closed my eyes again, hating how vulnerable I felt.

I wasn’t sure how long we’d been driving, but the next time I woke we were in a helicopter. I struggled into a sitting position. The strip with hotels and casinos spread out below, and my stomach constricted as the helicopter started its descent over Las Vegas. I didn’t say a word to either Marco or Vincent, and they didn’t talk to me either. The tension was still palpable in the helicopter, but they had escaped from the Golden Gate and now I was in Las Vegas. In Pinecrest Carte territory. At their mercy.

The moment we landed, Marco helped me out of the helicopter while Vincent talked to someone on the phone. I needed to wash my face and clear my head so I could think straight again. I had been in my wedding dress for almost twenty-four hours. I felt sticky and sluggish and exhausted. And underneath it all a terror I had trouble containing throbbed inside of me.

I was pushed into another car, and eventually we pulled up in front of a shabby strip club called the Sugar Trap.

Marco gripped my arm again as Vincent went ahead without a single glance at me.

“Marco,” I tried, but he tightened his hold. “I need to go to the bathroom and wash my face. I don’t feel good.”

He led me inside the deserted strip club toward the ladies’ room and followed me inside to wait at the washbasins. Vincent had ignored me mostly, but I had a feeling that would change soon.

I went to the toilet, hating that I knew Marco could hear me. There was nothing I could have used as a weapon, and even if there were, how would that help me surrounded by Camorrista? I dropped my skirt when I was done, breathing deeply, trying to hide my emotions.

“Antonella,” came Marco’s warning voice. “Don’t make me get you out of there. You won’t like it.”

Straightening my shoulders, I came back out, feeling shaky from dehydration.

I bent over the washbasin and washed my face then drank a few gulps of water.

“You can have a coke from the bar,” Marco said. Before I could say anything, he gripped me by the arm and dragged me out. My bare feet ached. I must have cut them on the forest ground. My eyes flitted around the room. It wasn’t deserted anymore. As if drawn out by the commotion, several scantily clad women had gathered at the bar.

They avoided looking at me, and I realized I couldn’t hope for their help. Not a single person in Las Vegas would probably risk helping me.

“Coke,” Marco barked at a dark-skinned man behind the bar, who grabbed a bottle, opened it, and handed it to Marco. The man purposely wasn’t looking at me.

Good Lord. Where had they taken me? What kind of hellhole was Las Vegas?

“Drink,” Marco said, holding the bottle out for me. I took it and had a few long sips. The cold, sweet liquid seemed to revive my brain and body.

“Come.” Marco led me through a door and along a bare-walled corridor toward another door. When he opened it and stepped inside with me, my stomach revolted.

Inside were two unknown men, both of them Falcones, I assumed. All of them were tall, with hard expressions and this air of unbridled cruelty that they were famous for. One of them had gray eyes and looked older than the other guy. I tried to remember their names, but then my eyes met Vincent’s and my mind turned blank.

The Pinecrest Carte Lord had shed his shirt. There was a fresh wound on his left side that had been stitched up, but there was still blood around it. My pulse stuttered in my veins at the sight of his muscles and scars.

“Your twin almost got me there,” Vincent said with a dark laugh. “But not enough to stop me from capturing his beloved sister.” He said beloved like it was something filthy, something worthless.

Marco released me and joined the other men, leaving me standing in the middle of the room like a piece of meat that needed inspecting. Dread settled in my bones because maybe that was exactly what I was to them. Meat.

Vincent pointed at the gray-eyed man. “That’s my brother Miguel.” Then he gestured at the younger man beside him. “And my brother Savio.”

Vincent stalked closer, every muscle in his upper body taut, as if he was a predator about to pounce. I stood my ground. I wouldn’t give him an inch. I wouldn’t give him anything. Not my fear and not a single tear. He couldn’t force those from me. I didn’t kid myself thinking that I could stop him from taking anything else.

“Antonella Cavallaro.” My name was a caress on his lips as he slowly walked around me. He stopped close behind me so I couldn’t see him.

I suppressed a shiver. “Not Cavallaro. That’s my uncle’s name, not mine.”

Vincent’s breath fanned over my neck. “In every regard that matters, you are a Cavallaro.”

I dug my nails into my palms. Miguel’s gray eyes followed the movement without a flicker of emotion on his face. Marco perched on the desk, looking at the man behind me but not me. Savio regarded me with a mix of curiosity and calculation.

I didn’t say anything, only stared stubbornly ahead. Vincent circled me and stopped in front of me. He was a tall man, and I wished for my heels. I wasn’t exactly small, but barefoot only the top of my head reached his chin. I lifted my head slightly, trying to appear taller.

Vincent’s mouth twitched. “I hear you were supposed to marry your fiancé, Mark Mancini, yesterday,” he said with a twisted grin. “So I robbed you of your wedding night.”

I remembered Mom’s consoling words. That Mark would be good to me. That I didn’t have to be scared of him claiming his rights after our wedding. And Anthony’s words that he’d hunt down Mark if he didn’t treat me like a lady.

As I stared up into the face of Vincent Martino, my worry of having s*x with Mark seemed ridiculous. The Pinecrest Carte wouldn’t be good to me. The name of their Lord was spoken in hushed, terrified whispers even among women in the Golden Gate. And a terror unlike anything I’d ever encountered gripped me, but I forced it down. Pride was the only weapon I had, and I would hold on to it until the very end.

“I wonder if you let your fiancé have a taste before your wedding,” Vincent murmured, his voice a low vibrato full of threat, his dark eyes raking over me.

Indignation filled me. How dare he suggest something like that? “Of course not,” I said coldly. “The first kiss of a honorable Golden Gate woman happens on her wedding day.”

His grin widened, wolf-like, and I realized my mistake. He’d led me into a trap. My own pride a weapon he used against me.