Mobster's Baby: Bad Boy Mafia Romance (15 page)

Portia

I couldn’t stop crying. No matter what I did, the tears kept falling more quickly than I could wipe them away. My face was a mess of snot and tears and I knew that I probably looked horrible, but I didn’t know what to do. Axel had just dropped the biggest lie on me of all time—that my father was in the mob, and I was some kind of heiress. I shook my head. I hated Axel. I wished that I’d never laid eyes on Axel Riccardi, that I’d never met him. I wished that I’d spent the rest of my life as a spinster, missing Chris, my one true love.

The fact that I’d had a nightmare about Chris trying to rape me earlier had completely escaped my mind. Right now, I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. I hated myself for falling into Axel’s trap and for not listening to my gut. I never should have gone home with him; hell, I never should have let him buy me a drink! This was all horrible, and it was all my fault. I hated myself more than I’d ever hated myself before. And I hated this baby in my belly, because it reminded me of Axel and what I’d done. It reminded me that I’d actively taken steps to ruin my own life.

I couldn’t believe that he’d lied to me. I couldn’t believe that he’d told me that my father had been involved in organized crime! My father! Gianni Campanella, the family man, the man who had charmed my mother into falling in love with him. The man who had been so protective of me as a baby that Mom had said he’d kept the window shades pulled tight, just because he didn’t want anyone to even seen me.

I couldn’t believe it.

“Axel,” I called loudly. “Come in here.” My tears had stopped for a moment and I wiped my nose on my sleeve, leaving a wet, iridescent streak.

“What?” Axel came in, leaning against the frame of the door. He looked just as sexy as ever: muscular torso exposed in a tank top, dark hair slicked back, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. I had to look away or else I knew I would start to get aroused.
Damn pregnancy.
Turning me into a goddamn broodmare
.

“I want you to sit down,” I said calmly. “And explain to me why you lied. Why did you tell me that my father was involved in organized crime? And where the hell did you get that locket?” I tried hard to keep my voice quiet but it was difficult. Axel frowned.

Axel frowned. “I wasn’t lying to you,” Axel said slowly. I glared at him and he lowered his ass down into a chair. “I was telling the truth, Portia.”

“Bullshit,” I said softly, shaking my head. “You were lying, and I know you were. Why did you tell me that shit? Are you trying to make me feel bad for you? Or are you trying to get me used to a lifetime of crime?” I frowned at him. “I don’t want our baby involved in this shit,” I said defensively. “I never want our baby involved in anything illegal, you hear me?”

Axel laughed, a full throated sound that came from his belly and bubbled up through his throat. “I ain’t lyin’,” he said again, shaking his head at me. “You’re really something else, Portia. Why you think I’m trying to fool you?”

I glared. “This is serious. My father was a good man. He loved his family, he loved his wife, and he loved me. He never would have done
anything
to put us in danger, you hear me? My father was a good man. My voice was shaking and I couldn’t figure out why.

Axel raised his eyebrows. “Well, honey, I didn’t say he was a monster,” he replied. “I didn’t say shit about him being a good man or not. All I said was that he was my father’s second-in-command.”

“And what happened to him?” I narrowed my eyes. “If you know so fuckin’ much about my family, what happened to him? How did he die? How did he
live?”

Axel clasped his hand over his heart and made a sentimental face at me. “Oh, how did he
live
?” Axel threw a hand to his forehead and threw his head back. “How did he
live
? Are you fucking kidding me, Portia? This isn’t a goddamned soap opera!”

“I know,” I said through gritted teeth. “That’s why I want you to stop lying to me.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him, trying to look as evil as I could manage. “I want you to tell me the truth.”

Axel grinned. “Oh, so you want the truth now?” He nodded at me. “You really want the truth? The whole truth and nothing but the truth?”

“Yes!” I cried, feeling exasperated. “Yes, I want to hear the fucking truth!”

Axel raised his eyebrows at me. “So she wants the truth now, huh?” He looked around the room like he was faced with an audience. “She wants the truth?”

“Yes!” I practically yelled. “Yes, I want the fucking truth!”

“Good,” Axel said. He grinned and leaned over conspiratorially. “Okay, Portia. The truth is…your father was in the mob! He was second-in-command to Leo Riccardi, of the famous Riccardi family. He killed people! He did drugs! He was in the fucking mafia! How many other fucking times do I have to fucking tell you?” Axel was raging and loud and he made a fist with his hand and slammed it down on the tabletop. “He was in the fucking mob!”

“I don’t believe you,” I said.

Axel laughed bitterly. “Then you’re a fucking idiot,” he said. “Here, wait here.”

I was about to protest when Axel stood up and trotted out of the kitchen. I heard him rustling around in the other room but I didn’t ask to know what he was doing. I didn’t want to know what he was doing. I was sick of Axel. Sick of his lies, sick of his arrogance, sick of his asshole ways. I couldn’t believe that I’d let myself get involved with someone who was so obviously toxic and dangerous.

“Here,” Axel grunted. He came back into the kitchen carrying an old photo album. “Look through this. See your fuckin’ precious daddy. Then tell me you don’t believe me.”

Axel dropped the album on the table in front of me. A cloud of dust rose, irritating my senses and making me sneeze a couple of times in quick succession. I looked at Axel with wary eyes before taking the cover between my thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t want to see any sick shit,” I said carefully. “This better not be a snuff album.”

Axel practically exploded. “Jesus, Portia, do you think we’re fuckin’ monsters? Of course this isn’t a fucking snuff album! It’s a fucking family album! Jesus fucking Christ,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. “You’re about the most troublesome woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life. You live in a fuckin’ bubble of privilege, you know that?”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened the album and starting thumbing through the photos. A lot of them were black and white photos of little kids, it looked like they were taken in the 1950s and the 1960s.

“Who are these people?”

Axel reached over and pointed to one of the cherubic-looking little boys. “That’s my pops, Leo,” he said. “This is all his childhood.” Axel let me flip through a few more pages before he grabbed most of the pages with one hand and turned to the end of the album. I was startled to see a color photo of a man who looked like an older, paunchier Axel with his arm around a tall, tanned blond man…who looked like me.

“That’s my father,” I whispered. I even saw the locket around his throat. Suddenly, my stomach went cold and the blood in my veins turned to ice.

“Yep,” Axel said. He smirked at me. “Believe me now?”

I shook my head vehemently. “Just because they were in a photo together doesn’t mean my father was in the mob, Axel.”

Axel rolled his eyes. “Fine, Portia.” He grabbed the album off the table and threw it at the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall. “Fine! Don’t fuckin’ believe me! Spend the rest of your life in ignorance about who you are! I guess if I told you that you stood to inherit millions that wouldn’t change anything! Would it? Would it!” He leaned in my face and screamed at me—I could smell potent whiskey on his breath. “I guess that wouldn’t fucking matter!”

I blinked. “Millions?”

Axel laughed bitterly. “You fucking women,” he said in disgust. “All you care is about money.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me,” I said quietly. “I can’t believe you pretend to care about me and then you’d keep the identity of my father from me, my inheritance from me! You don’t care about me at all,” I sniped. “You don’t give a fuck about me. You wanted to lie to me and keep me in the dark the whole goddamn time. I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted my fortune all for yourself!”

“Because I’m so obviously hurting for money,” Axel retorted. “Yeah, I know, I live in a hovel, right?”

I’d had enough. I stood up from the table and stalked upstairs, picking my way delicately around the album and chunks of drywall that had fallen on the floor. Axel stood up and chased after me, but I was faster and I made it to the bedroom and slammed the door before he could catch up.

“Portia!” Axel yelled as he banged on the bedroom door. “Don’t you fuckin’ go anywhere! Don’t you leave, Portia!”

“I’ll do what I want,” I said in a shaky voice. “I don’t need you anymore! I have my father’s money!” I looked around the room for my belongings, getting dressed in a pair of jeans and my own remaining shirt. I threw the scarf around my neck and threw Axel’s shirt on the floor. After a second, I walked back over to the shirt and stomped on it, tearing it up with my heels.

“Portia, come on,” Axel said. He pounded on the door with a fist. “Come out, we’ll talk. Everything will be okay.”

I laughed. “Nothing will ever be okay,” I snapped. “Because of you! You lied to me, Axel! You tried to keep my own history hidden and secret from me!”

Axel laughed humorlessly on the other side of the door. “You didn’t believe me!” he said in an incredulous voice. “You didn’t believe me when I tried to tell you! You had this perfect image of your perfect daddy and when I ruined that, you didn’t want to believe me! You didn’t believe shit until I showed you that photo and told you about the money he left you! But now I guess that’s all okay!” His tone was vicious and sarcastic and I cowered behind the locked door.

“Fuck you,” I spat. “I’m leaving.”

Bracing myself, I opened the bedroom door and tried to push past Axel. Even after our little fight downstairs, I thought I could shock him into letting me go. But he grabbed my wrists and dragged me back inside, taking the bundle of clothes out of my arms and tossing it to the ground. Axel threw me on the bed and glared at me, his eyes blazing.

“You’re not leaving,” Axel said in a deadly calm tone. “You’re not allowed to leave. It’s too fucking dangerous, Portia. I’m not letting you get in trouble.”

Struggling, I sat up on the bed and tried to hurtle out of the room. I thought I could duck underneath Axel’s arm, but he was quicker and he grabbed me, wrapping his arms around mine and hugging me tightly to his body. I couldn’t move, I could only kick my legs and scream as Axel wrestled me over to the bed.

“Fuck you!” I spat. I kicked and scratched and clawed at the air but none of my attacks made their mark. Axel was stronger, and he threw me down on the soft mattress. I bounced limply, like a rag doll, and glared up at him.

“You ain’t leaving.” He walked quickly over to the door and pulled it closed behind him. I heard something small, like a metallic click, and realized that he’d locked me in.

“No!” I screamed. I leapt off the bed and ran to the door, trying to pull it open with both of my hands. But the knob was locked, and it barely turned in the frame. “Axel! Let me the fuck out of here!”

From the other side of the door, I heard Axel’s voice. But he wasn’t speaking to me. “Hi, Jackson. I got a situation over here. You’re gonna have to come over and help me guard this chick. She’s got a case of escape-itis.”

“No!” I screamed again. “Let me go!”

But there was only silence in reply.

Axel

I paced downstairs as I waited for Jackson to arrive. Portia was making a commotion—banging and hollering around—and every time I heard a loud thump, I winced. She was a little hellcat, alright, but I couldn’t risk her running away. Not again, not when things were even more dangerous than they had been before. Hell, I would even say they were more dangerous than
ever
before, but I didn’t like to speak in hyperbole. With my luck, something worse was bound to happen.

Jackson let himself in without knocking; I trusted him, and he had a key to my place. I always wondered whether or not he had a key to Leo’s place as well. I was starting to really have my doubts about Jackson. Something about him just seemed…
off
.

“Hey, man,” Jackson greeted me. He grinned at me. “How’s that little woman of yours?”

I rolled my eyes. “Locked in the bedroom,” I told him shortly. “Don’t let her out. She’ll try to run.”

Jackson raised his eyebrows. “You know, beating your wife isn’t really accepted anymore, kid,” he said with a smirk. “You better think twice about putting your hands on her.”

I glared at him. “Fuck you, man,” I snapped. “I didn’t do shit. She’s all…upset about something.”

Jackson laughed. He sat down at the kitchen table and put his feet up, then apparently changed his mind and got up, walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. “Mind if I have a drink?”

I raised my hand in the air. “Go ahead,” I said sourly.

Waiting until Jackson had slunk down in the chair again, I sat down across from him. Jackson raised his eyebrows at me. “What’s going on?”

“We need to figure out that fuckin’ coke deal,” I snarled. “You’ve been leading me around for weeks now, and I haven’t gotten shit done, Jacks. You’re gonna have to be a little better than this if you want this partnership to continue.”

Jackson grinned at me, a Cheshire-cat smile. “You’re not in a position to be so demanding,” he said, pulling out a knife and picking his fingernails with it. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Axel. You know only Leo can do that.”

“And right now, Leo is on my ass about this deal!” I slammed my fist down on the table. From upstairs, I heard Portia thumping around, making a racket. I was so fucking sick of my life at the moment, sick of Portia’s manipulative whiny bullshit, sick of my father, sick of Jackson lying to me about everything. I just wanted to climb behind the wheel of my Porsche and drive far, far away.

“I can’t do nothing, man,” Jackson said with an easy grin. “Relax, my hands are tied!”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe you for a fuckin’ second,” I snarled. “I don’t believe you at all. You’ve been trying to fuck me since day one, and here you are. If we don’t figure this shit out with the Russians, Leo’s going to pass over me and I’m going to be nothing. You hear that? I’m going to be nothing for the rest of my life. I worked my whole goddamn life to be successful in the business, and I’m gonna get fucked over by my best friend.”

Jackson snorted. “You should have known better than to call me your best friend, Axel.” He grinned at me, exposing yellow teeth. “You should have known better than to keep up that blind loyalty shit all those years. You think your father actually loves you? He doesn’t give a shit. But me,” he said, jabbing a finger towards his chest, “I care about you, man. I’ve always cared about you. But you don’t wanna hear it. Mr. I Live in La-La Land over here! You need to get a handle on life, man,” Jackson finished. “I ain’t gonna keep you around forever.”

I laughed. “You’re a fucking nitwit,” I told him, reaching over and cuffing him on the shoulder.

There was an uneasy silence between us. Even though I really hadn’t lied about how I felt, Jackson treated the whole thing like a goddamn joke. It didn’t matter if we hated each other, it didn’t matter if we wanted to rip each other limb from limb. At the end of the day, the only thing that mattered was that we were both making money for the family. That was the only thing Leo cared about.

“Don’t fuck me on this deal,” I said as I stood up from the table. “And don’t fuck with Portia either. She scares easy.”

Jackson laughed, a loud, throaty sound. “I bet she does,” he said lazily. “I bet she scares real fuckin’ easily.”

I rolled my eyes as I dug in the closet for my leather jacket and my boots. From the kitchen, I heard Jackson belch loudly and slam his empty bottle down on the table.

“I’m gonna go see the old man,” I said. “If he gives me shit about this deal, I’m gonna come home and cold clock you sideways.”

Jackson grinned. “The deal’s gonna happen, man,” he said, holding up his hands. “How many times I have to tell you? I’m workin’ with the Russians right now!”

I smirked. It was the closest Jackson had come to giving me an affirmative answer about the coke deal. But it wasn’t good enough. We’d been fighting over this for weeks, and if I didn’t get it straightened out, I knew Leo was gonna have my head.

“Look, I’m serious,” I said, pointing a thumb towards my chest. “I’m not kidding about this shit, Jacks. We gotta get this shit done. Otherwise, I’m out. I’m done. I’m not like you, I was born into this shit. My dad took you in when you didn’t have anywhere else to go. He doesn’t feel bad about kicking my ass out, he’s sure as hell not gonna feel bad about getting rid of you.”

“Relax, relax,” Axel said. He held up his hands. “I’m workin’ on it.” He smirked at me. “So that little broad upstairs is off limits?”

“You touch her and you’re fuckin’ dead,” I said, putting a hand on the gun tucked into the back of my jeans. “You are a fucking dead man, and I mean it.”

Jackson smiled at me. “We’ll hold down the fort, here,” he said. “Don’t you worry. Have you a fine time, Mr. Axel,” he added, affecting a dopey, Southern-sounding accent.

I stormed out of the house and climbed behind the wheel of the Porsche. Getting into my car always felt like greeting an old friend; there was something about the soft, supple leather and scent of engine grease that reminded me of coming home. Or leaving home. I guessed it didn’t really matter—after all, I was going to see my father. That
should
have felt like home, but it didn’t. Leo hadn’t felt like home since I was a little kid.

When I got to the house, I expected to see Terry lounging out front, half-naked like usual. There was a lawn chair tipped on its side and a pink plastic mug had rolled down to the end of the driveway. I frowned as I jogged over and picked it up.

“Fuckin’ drunk slob, drinking and fuckin’ off instead of taking care of my pops,” I muttered under my breath as I threw the pink mug in the bushes out front. I didn’t think much of Leo’s endless parade of girlfriends, especially not Terry, who was literally young enough to be his daughter. I snorted.
At the rate he’s going, he’s gonna have to order a mail order girl next
, I thought grimly.
He’s about gone through the whole damn town
.

Morris, New Jersey, was a smaller town. It didn’t have a lot of people and it certainly didn’t draw a lot of people in. But here, we had a thriving family business. Despite his bad decisions—like Terry—Leo had done a pretty ace job of managing things throughout the years. But his health was failing, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long.

That was why that coke deal was so important. It was my job, the thing that I was supposed to get done. The thing I had to do to prove to Leo that I was a man, a man capable and ready of leading the business. The thing I had to do to really put my mark on Morris, on the family business, and the Riccardi name.

I wondered what Leo would say if he knew I’d taken a wife.

“Yo, Leo,” I said, knocking on the front door. When no one answered, I let myself in. The inside of the house was empty and quiet. There was an odd smell coming from the kitchen, but when I poked my head in, I didn’t see anything.

“Yo, Dad,” I called loudly. “It’s me, Axel!”

There was no reply.

“Terry? You home?”

Still nothing.

“Fuck,” I muttered, kicking a newspaper where it had fallen on the floor. “This place is a fuckin’ sty.”

There was a thumping noise from upstairs. Frowning, I jogged upstairs, taking them two at a time until I was at the threshold of Leo’s bedroom. The old man was propped up in bed. He looked shrunken and shriveled under the covers, and I could tell he wasn’t feeling well.

“Leo, Pops, it’s me,” I said as I stepped into the room. “How ya feelin’ old man?”

Leo grunted. When he opened his mouth, a trickle of blood came out. A feeling like shock came over me, like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I raced to the bedside as fast as my legs would carry me.

Leo looked at me and blinked. He looked older than I’d ever seen him, like he’d aged ten years in two weeks. “Son,” he managed to sputter. “Son, what happened to me?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “Who did this?”

Leo bobbed his head. He opened his mouth and more blood came streaming out. I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut. It was horrible, seeing my father this way. He looked like he was on the edge of death.

“Who did this?” I demanded. “Who?”

Leo opened his mouth again. He clutched at his stomach with ancient, decrepit hands. “I…I…” He trailed off. “I…Son…”

“Dad!” Yanking the covers away from Leo’s torso, I saw that he was covered in blood. My heart jumped into my throat and I had to look away. He’d been stabbed several times in the belly, and his innards were leaking out all over the sheets. There was something shiny and pink showing in the wounds and I shuddered, taking a closer look at the mass of blood, pus, and gore. Some clear fluid was leaking from the wound and I shuddered, screwing my eyes closed and turning away. The whole room smelled like blood and shit and I was wondering how I’d managed to miss that when I first stepped inside.

“Son,” Leo said. He was breathing heavily. “Son, I don’t have long.”

“Who did this?” I demanded again, pulling the sheet over my father’s torso and helping him lie down all the way in bed. “Who? Who was it?”

Leo’s yellowing eyes met my own. “Jackson,” he managed to croak in a quiet voice. “Son, it was Jackson.”

A chill went through my body and I shuddered. Somehow I’d known exactly what Leo was going to say before he’d said it. I knew that my former best friend would betray me, I knew that he’d go after me like this and try to murder my old man. A lick of rage shot through my body. I felt like going back home and beating Jackson to a pulp. I couldn’t believe that he’d done this. It would have been one thing if he’d tried to kill me. After all, we’d had a rivalry that never quite bordered on playful. But going after my old man? The old man who had raised him and given him everything? The man who had loved him more than he loved his own goddamn son?

It was like getting a kick to the head.

I pulled the gold watch out of my pocket and showed it to Leo. “Pops, have you seen this watch before?”

Leo was fading in and out of consciousness. I could tell he didn’t have much time left in the world.

“Pops, look at the watch,” I said, pushing it right under his nose. “Have you seen this watch before?”

Leo shook his head.

“Tell me the truth,” I said solemnly. “Were you behind the attempt to kill me, to kidnap Portia? Was that you?”

Leo shook his head. He didn’t look like a mob boss anymore, he looked like a scared old man, afraid and alone in the world. His eyes flickered closed and I could tell he was fighting for every breath.

My chest hurt from holding my breath. I’d never been close to Leo. We’d never had the kind of ideal, father-son relationship that I wanted, or even the schmaltzy kind that you saw in Hallmark commercials. But this was something else, this was intimacy. He was dying right in front of me. I could tell.