Men of Mayhem (62 page)

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The End

 

Glossary of Italian language

 

Italian – English

Dio
- God

mafioso
- mafia

cara mia
- my sweet/my darling

bella mia
- my beautiful

famiglia
- family

piccola mia
- my little one

Piccolina
- little

la mia fidanzata
- my fiancée

Padre
- father/dad

Papa
- father/dad

Putana
- whore/slut

sbrigati e veni fuori
- hurry up and come outside

brava/bravo
- good

ardente
- fiery

bastardo
- bastard

per favore
- please

figlio
- son

sono motto contento
- I am so very happy

Si
- yes

Grazie
- thank you

Santa Madre di Dio
- Holy Mother of God

Mi capisci
- you understand

Gesu Christo
- Jesus Christ

Si pronto bella
- are you ready beautiful

Si sono pronta
– Yes, I am ready

Buongiorno
- good day/good morning

ti voglio tanto bene
- I love you very much

sempre
- always

Signora
- Mrs

About the Author

 

Elle Raven is an Aussie author who lives in Adelaide, South Australia with her husband and three young children. Elle can usually be found with her iPad or laptop computer permanently glued to her. She began writing from a very young age. Elle has a flamboyant personality and is always an ‘actress’ and always the star.

Elle loves reading and her books will feature an alpha-male hero who will come tumbling to his knees in lust and love when he finally meets the heroine of his dreams. If she can’t read about one that is alpha enough to suit her, she will take it upon herself to write one.

Rest assured that in an Elle Raven book, the hero will never cheat.

Elle would love to hear from you. Please email her or visit her Facebook page. She loves connecting with people and having a chat with the readers about her books or any other books you may have in common.

 

Website:

www.elleraven.com.au

 

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/elleravenauthor

 

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/ElleRaven1/lists

 

Pinterest:

http://www.pinterest.com/elleraven7/

 

Instagram:

https://instagram.com/elleraven1/

 

Email:

[email protected]

 

Sara Schoen

 

 

Faith

 

Devon slipped his hand into mine, saying that he wanted to keep me close so we wouldn’t get separated in the crowded streets of New York City. I had a habit of wandering and getting lost between the buildings and skyscrapers, or so he thought. To bystanders who saw us walk down the street hand in hand with bright smiles on our faces and a blissful gleam in our eyes, it might have seemed picturesque, the ideal relationship. As we passed multiple coffee shops and boutiques, the affection we held for each other seemed clear, but no one saw the deception, not even Devon. Behind closed doors we were far from the perfect couple.

We aren’t even a couple at all,
I thought to myself as Devon pulled me easily through the crowd. If I didn’t know better, I would say everyone around us knew who he was, but I knew he kept secrets well, especially from me.

Devon and I had many secrets, but I kept one close to my chest. I didn’t want him to know that I was close to the Don of the Moretti mafia. I had been assigned to this charade, a fake relationship, in hopes of gaining an advantage over Devon’s mafia.

We had met by chance in the coffee shop, which we frequented often, and my father, the Don of the Moretti mafia, had decided to take advantage of fate’s mistake by diving deep into deception. Our families were in the midst of a mafia war, both trying to take control of the limited area in New York City. So far, each of us had stayed to our assigned borough, but I wasn’t a fool. My father tried to lie to me, cover up his actions until he thought I could understand why he decided to instigate a war. I didn’t think I would, but either way we were spreading, testing the limits of the uneasy truce both mafias had agreed on years ago when a war crippled our respective families down to single digits. By now, the men who had lived through it had passed, whether by natural causes or killed doing business, and the truce was under fire.

My family felt as though we had settled for a meager portion of what had once been ours. Devon’s felt as if they had been tricked. Neither of our families were happy, and both were looking for a leg up on the other before the killing started again. They wanted a way to end it before their friends and family started to die around them, but it didn’t seem possible.

A shiver raced down my spine at the thought. I didn’t want to see another fight between the mafias, and most definitely not a full blown war.

“Are you cold?” Devon asked as we approached the coffee shop. He was already shrugging off his light coat to give to me, and I knew he wouldn’t take no as an answer. He treated me amazingly well, perfectly even, but I could never be sure if it was true.

We had been playing mind games with each other for over a year. I hoped that he didn’t know who I was. I hadn’t lied, but I hadn’t told him the whole truth either. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was under the same orders as me sometimes. He seemed to know who I was, but not what my job was. We were faking a perfect relationship, while still unable to gain information to pass on to our respective families.

We had each tried to use what we believed to be the upper hand to gather information. I believed he had no idea that I was a part of the Moretti mafia, but I’m sure he wasn’t aware I knew he was in the Ricci mafia, either. After our fated meeting, my father had informed me of Devon’s position, but since we hadn’t met prior to that I had no way of knowing if he knew I was the Don’s daughter. Likewise, I’m sure Devon didn’t know I knew of his involvement in the Ricci cartel, but he knew me now, and I knew he hoped to win me over so he could take the information he needed and save those most important to him. That’s what I would do, and Devon and I were eerily alike. If he was anyone else, I could see the relationship working out, but this could only end in death if Devon and I weren’t careful. Our mafias would handle it if we didn’t.

My father wanted to know what Devon did for the Riccis, and it was recently revealed that he was the underboss, the next in line to take over. That gave us a lot of leverage to hold someone in such high power in my hands, but it also meant I was playing with fire. We had hoped he would let plans slip if he grew attached to me, and I swore to get the information. Though I never expected to actually fall for a man in the Ricci mafia.

The war between the Riccis and the Morettis would become his responsibility one day. He could end it sooner rather than later, but only if he could get me to disclose any
useful
information. I was careful to never divulge anything of use to the Riccis.

As we stepped into the coffee shop, Devon immediately rushed to the table I had been sitting at when we first laid eyes on each other, sealing our fates together and the fates of our mafias. He pulled out my chair for me, then went to order our coffee, leaving me here to think over that day again.

“Hi,” I had said in a breathy voice, completely taken with him.

I had thought it would be easy pretending to be interested in a man in order to protect my family—until I met him. My breath caught in my throat when I saw him. My heart palpitated rapidly, and for a moment I was swept away by the man I was supposed to make fall for me, not the other way around. I flashed him a soft smile, in a moment of bliss, but it allowed me the chance to win his heart as well.

“Hello yourself, beautiful,” Devon had replied easily, almost seeming unaffected by me while I was still in shock over falling for him so swiftly. “Would you like to join me for a little while?”

“I’d love to,” I had replied. In that moment, we shared something more than a brief coffee date. We had stayed for hours, talking and lying through our teeth about who we were. Both of us seemed slightly taken aback by the ease we had around each other, and the false sense of security we let off. It all seemed too flawless. It was no wonder everyone thought we were perfect together. Though, a year later, not much information had passed between us. We had been careful not to divulge the purpose of our relationship, or ruin the chance at what we could be without the mafia’s involvement.

 

 

Dirty Little Secret

 

The anniversary of our relationship fast approached, but so did the anniversary of the job assignment. My father found it difficult to believe that Devon hadn’t found out I was in his rival mafia, but he seemed pleased that the secret had been kept so long, or so he thought. While I was sure that Devon knew who I was, I couldn’t be sure that he’d found out I was in the relationship to gather information. I truly thought he didn’t know I had continued to see him because of my father, mostly because if I did so without his permission there would be consequences, but Devon played smart. In fact, sometimes I think he was a few steps ahead of me and I had to play catch up.

We toyed with each other, unsure of what the other actually knew as the war waged around us. It had become a never-ending game of chess. At one point, we had each divulged small tidbits of information, but only on aspects we could control. That game hadn’t ended up well for either of the families. Devon had taken the tactical approach first, letting a small exchange of goods leak to me. I sat on the information for a little while, but eventually called my father from a cell phone I had hidden away, a spare specifically for this purpose, and told him.

“The Riccis have a deal going down next week,” I whispered into the phone.

“We’ll handle it,” my father promised.

Devon must have expected I would turn around and tell my father, which solidified my assumption that he figured out who I was, and maybe even what my job was. Devon’s family had pretended to be surprised, so as to not let the charade fall apart, but they were prepared. They had killed everyone my father sent after them, a small group for a tentative first step based on the Morettis personal experience with mafia wars. It had been smart of him; he could have lost so many more soldiers if he hadn’t learned from past mistakes. It was a small victory for the Riccis, but a devastating blow for Morettis—and me. My uncle died in the shootout, and while he had taken a few Ricci men out with him, I had been hurting since I received the phone call to tell me what happened.

I had fallen silent. The pain must have been clear in my eyes because Devon came to comfort me while I cried. It hurt to know I had sent those men, and my uncle, to their deaths. I had run away, fought against my father’s orders. To me, I was the monster because I couldn’t blame Devon. To me, while he knew I was a Moretti, he didn’t expect this to happen. Maybe be did, but he hadn’t reacted to the attack on his people, instead he responded to my change in demeanor. He was there for me, took the time to cheer me up, and let me cry on his shoulder while I talked about the loss of a family member.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” I whimpered through my tears. “He helped raise me.” I let the tears flow freely once again. It took a few moments before I could collect myself again, but Devon didn’t mind. He held me and lulled me with his soothing voice while I cried.

“It’s all right, Faith. Remember, it’s okay to feel pain. We all feel the pain of the loss of a loved one. It’s the love we felt for them, and knowing we can’t be with them now, but you have to focus on the present, and live for what you have now.”

I nodded, wiping the tears from my face before I looked him in the eyes. “My uncle spent so much time with me, made sure that I knew I was someone special, and he made sure I was protected.” I paused momentarily, looking into Devon’s dark blue eyes and letting the wall I had built up crumble around me. “Just like you.”

Devon smiled at my words and pulled me in for a short kiss. “I’ll always be here for you, Faith. I love you.” As promised, Devon remained by my side, and did anything he could. His heart went out to me. I could see the pity and sorrow in his eyes, but there was nothing that could be done. War was ugly and covered in the blood of its victims. It was either my family or his. There was no other option. Either way, one of us got hurt, and there was no escaping it, and no end to our pain. No matter how much the other wanted to take the pain away, we knew family came first.

Though while Devon was torn up over my pain, he let more information slip, and in retaliation for him getting some of my family killed, I took the chance to avenge a few of them.

“We’ll take revenge for what they did to us last time,” my father swore before sending in more men than before, having prepared them for the worse.

The Morettis went in with guns drawn and left no one standing. The few Riccis who survived long enough to see most of the bloodshed made sure to take two Morettis with them before they died…or they tried to. Most of the Riccis were gone before they could put a dent in the force we had sent this time.

We would pass off information, and someone would get hurt. Devon would seal himself inside the apartment, and I would stand by him through it all while knowing I was the root cause of his pain. Then when I was down, Devon would be there for me. That’s how the game went, day in and day out. It never stopped. The mind games were a constant reminder of a relationship that could never be, but we hoped it could be. We knew the feelings between us were explosive, and at times even acted on them. It provided for an interesting game.

It would start off small. I’d ask for help unzipping my dress to which Devon eagerly accepted. While Devon walked through the apartment in a towel after a shower, I’d retaliate by lounging in the common room in one of his shirts and my lacy thong when he came back home. That’s how it went, and honestly, as I sat in the apartment about a week after the attack on the Riccis I knew Devon felt the same. I waited for him to come home, and the second he walked through the door he knew why I was waiting.

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