Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance (15 page)

I rang the doorbell. A woman I’d only seen here twice before answered. As soon as she recognized me, I saw the momentary note of panic on her face.

“Mr. Benedetti, was Dominic expecting you?”

“No, it’s a surprise visit.” She seemed nervous and stood blocking the doorway.

“He’s in a meeting, sir, and he said no interruptions.”

“Did he?” I glanced behind her. A woman vacuumed the living room, but apart from that, the house stood still. “Well, I need to see him, so please step aside.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”

“What’s your name?”

“Patricia, sir.”

“Patricia, I need to see my brother. I need you to step aside.”

“Sir,” she glanced behind her, clearly uncertain what to do. “I’m not supposed to…”

I smiled as wide as I could, feeling the gesture crinkle the corners of my eyes. “I’ll take full responsibility, Patricia. Don’t worry.”

She hesitated, and I took advantage, nudging her out of my way as I entered the house. I went straight for Dominic’s study located around back. A man stood at the door, but my presence clearly surprised him. I just grinned and walked right past him. I’d put my hand on the doorknob before I felt his hand fall on my shoulder.

I gave it a sideways glance, eyebrows raised, before meeting his gaze.

His eyes went wide, and the weight of his hand lessened.

He knew who I was. Good.

“Sir—” he started.

“Step back.”

It took him a moment, and I didn’t wait for him to decide. Instead, I turned the handle and pushed the door open to find Dominic, Roman, and my father sitting around the circular table inside.

They all turned at the interruption, my father and Roman surprised, Dominic furious.

“Isn’t this cozy,” I said, narrowing my eyes on Roman, the man I trusted most out of the three.

“I told you
nobody
!” Dominic roared to the man who’d stood guard and rose to his feet.

“Sir—”

The guard mumbled something, but I didn’t care about that. Instead, when Dominic rounded the table, I pounced on him, grabbing his collar and dragging him backward until I had him pinned against the wall.

“What the—” my dad’s voice came.

“Salvatore!”

Roman’s shout registered, but all I could see were Dominic’s eyes, the look in them both evil and proud, like the cocky prick he was.

He knew exactly why I was here.

“What did you want, taking Jacob?”

His grin widened. “Get your fucking hands off me.”

“You scared the shit out of Natalie!”

“What’s going on?” my father asked behind me.

“Nothing—” Dominic started.

“It’s called fucking kidnapping, asshole!” I said before slamming him hard against the wall.

“Salvatore, get off him,” Roman said, his voice the calmest of all. “Let him go.”

“Yeah, Salvatore, get off me,” Dominic mimicked Roman.

His face, his tone, they infuriated me. He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone. Not Jacob. Not Natalie, not anyone. “You fucking prick.” I released him, and Dominic straightened, attempting to fix his collar, but as he did, I drew my fist back and struck his jaw so hard, his head slammed back into the wall, and he stumbled. “You don’t even give a shit, do you?” I straightened him, and this time, drove my fist into his gut. “You don’t give a shit about scaring that little boy. About scaring the crap out of your brother’s wife.”

It took three men and Roman to drag me off him, but before they did, I’d landed one more punch on Dominic’s jaw. He struggled to stand, his grin angry as he wiped blood from his lip.

“What the
hell
are you talking about, Salvatore?” my father demanded.

I noticed then how he stood back, watching, a weariness in his eyes.

“Why don’t you tell him?” I said, fighting against the men who held me, watching Dominic, his expression pissed, bruises already coloring his face. “Tell him what you did.”

“He’s my nephew too.”

“Fuck you, you’ve never cared about that.”

“Enough!” My father’s voice bellowed through the room. “Sit him down.”

The men holding me shoved me into a seat and held me there. I watched my father stalk toward Dominic. I’d never seen him do that with him before.

“Did you hurt Jacob?” he asked, his tone low, threatening.

“I didn’t hurt him. I took him toy shopping and bought him a fucking ice-cream cone!”

“You scared him. He’s just a child. Your brother’s son!” I said.

“Dominic?” my father asked, some of the color drained from his face.

I freed myself of the men who held me and stood. “I have just one message for you.” My voice came low and deep. “Stay away from Natalie and Jacob, or God help me—”

“Dominic!” my father snapped.

I walked out, shaking out of the hold of one of Dominic’s men. “I’m leaving. Keep your hands off me.”

“Did you lay a finger on Sergio’s boy?” I heard my father ask.

I didn’t look back. I walked out the door and back to my car, satisfied with having beaten Dominic, but not quite trusting that my threat would keep Jacob and Natalie safe.

As I started the engine and turned the wheel, movement at the front door caught my attention. It was Patricia. She glanced behind her several times as she made her way toward me. I rolled down my window.

“Mr. Benedetti.” She was out of breath.

“Yes?”

“Your uncle asked me to give this to you.” She slipped a note to me and quickly backed away from the car.

“Thank you, Patricia,” I said absently as I unfolded it and read the brief, hurriedly written note:
Dominic visited Isabella DeMarco late last night, just before your arrival there.

Dominic was there? I’d gone inside—well, I’d gotten as far as the foyer. Did Lucia know Dominic was there and keep it from me? And did this confirm my growing suspicion?

I
woke suddenly
, sucking in a breath, my throat incredibly dry.

Looking around, I remembered where I was, remembered the night before. I lay in Salvatore’s bed, his scent still on his pillow, the indentation where his head had been now containing a small piece of paper.

Unfolding it, I read:

I set it down and closed my eyes, feeling sheepish at what I’d done, dropping his phone into the toilet.

But now, I had to face the thing that had woken me, as unbelievable as it was. I wished I’d kept my father’s note rather than throwing it away. At the time, I’d been so upset.

My father had committed suicide because he couldn’t live with the decisions he’d made. Because he hadn’t been able to come to terms with the fact that when I turned twenty-one, Salvatore would claim me as his. Did he have any idea how that letter would make me feel? Did he know he laid more guilt on my shoulders with that letter than he had in signing the contract that bound me to the Benedetti family?

But there was something else. He’d said something I’d just remembered moments before waking. He’d blamed the Benedettis for destroying
both
his daughters.

I’d thought—when I’d heard the man’s voice last night, I’d thought I’d recognized it, but it wasn’t a familiar voice. I’d thought it was Dominic Benedetti. But what would he be doing at my sister’s house? Isabella hated them more than I did.

But what my father had said…

“No.”

I sat up and pushed the blankets off. I was naked and saw that Salvatore had carefully bandaged my knees and the heels of my palms from where I’d torn myself up, running from him last night. When he’d caught up with me, he’d been fierce but also tender. Caring.

I shook my head and got out of bed. Back in my own bedroom, I dressed in running clothes. Running always helped clear my head, and I needed my head cleared really bad right now. Once dressed, I headed out. I heard Rainey in the kitchen and someone vacuuming in another part of the house.

I started at a slow jog, trying to choose some music, but then I stopped, wrapped the earbuds around the phone, and tucked it into my pocket. I didn’t want music today. I’d listen to the sounds of the forest.

Last night, when I’d asked him what he wanted, Salvatore had said he wanted me.

“At this moment.”

The swell inside my chest deflated instantly at the memory. He had to have me. It’s not like I was his choice.

I shook that thought aside. I needed to figure out what was going on. I needed to talk to Izzy, but how? How could I tell her I’d heard a man’s voice without giving myself away? How offended would she be if I asked if Dominic Benedetti were at her house?

But what if it
was
him? What if she’d known him for far longer than I realized?

And what if she knew about what he’d done to that little boy, kidnapping Natalie’s son like that?

“I took care of what you wanted done.”

No. No way. Izzy would never have arranged for something as terrible as the kidnapping of a child. And I should be ashamed of myself for thinking it.

I pushed myself to run faster, even though I hadn’t properly warmed up yet, and broke a sweat within a few minutes. I ran harder than I usually ran, but I needed more, needed to burn and exhaust my muscles, purge myself.

When did things get so complicated? Isabella and I were DeMarcos. We hated the Benedetti family. That was simple. It was black-and-white. But this? This attraction, this pull toward Salvatore? My yielding to him? It didn’t make sense. And my questions about Izzy. About what my father potentially referred to in his letter. About having heard Dominic’s voice in her house late at night.

I was running too fast on unfamiliar terrain and not paying attention, so when I tripped over the exposed root of a large tree and went flying, I shouldn’t have been surprised. But when I tried to stand, I had to haul myself up with my arms. My left ankle was already starting to swell and hum with pain.

“Shit.”

I looked back toward the house, but I’d run too deep into the woods to see any more than the decorative chimney tops. I forced myself to stand, leaning all my weight on my right leg. Holding on to nearby trees, I hobbled toward the house. It wasn’t more than five minutes, though, before I realized I’d never get back there on my own, not with my ankle quickly doubling in size.

Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I unwrapped the earbuds and stuck one in my ear. I then scrolled down to where Salvatore had entered Marco’s number and dialed.

He answered quickly, sounding like my call surprised him. “Lucia?”

“You know how you said to try and not get lost when I’m running?

He chuckled, audibly relaxing. “Are you lost?”

“No, that’s not it. I’m not lost, and I didn’t even have any music blaring, but—”

“What?” he cut me off, his tone anxious. “What is it?”

“I caught my foot on a tree root and fell. I’m trying to get back to the house on my own, but my ankle’s swelling and hurts pretty badly.”

“Get your weight off it, and elevate it if you can. I’m coming. Just pulling into the gates now. Do you know which trail you took?”

“I headed east, same as the morning you ran into me, but I’ve already passed the spot where we stopped last time.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. Just keep talking to me, so I can hear you.”

I heard the sound of stones beneath the car’s tires. He really had just gotten back.

“Where did you go?” I asked, since he said to keep talking.

“To see my brother.”

Could I tell him my suspicions? But he continued talking as he walked—the front door opening, him saying something to Marco, sliding the glass doors open before the sounds of his footsteps crunching on the forest floor reached my ears as he hurried to me.

“My father, Roman, and he were in a meeting. Some days, I question my trust in Roman.”

“You do? Trust him, I mean?”

“Out of the three, yes. Sergio did too. But I know if push came to shove, he’d take care of himself first.”

“Was it Dominic who took Jacob? Did he admit it?”

“Yeah.”

“I can hear you! I mean, not just on the phone.”

“Hot-pink running shorts?” he asked.

I glanced down and smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing.”

“It’d be hard to miss you in those,” he said, hanging up as he came into view. He wore his usual uniform: dark T-shirt and jeans. And he made my mouth water.

Salvatore scanned me from head to toe and knelt down by my hurt foot, making me flinch as he lightly touched my swollen ankle.

“Ouch. Hey, your hands!” His knuckles were raw and bruised.

He looked at them as if seeing them for the first time and smiled proudly. “You should see Dominic’s face.”

“You beat him up?”

He nodded, his attention back on my ankle. “I’m going to lift you up and carry you back. Just let me make a call.”

He dialed, and I realized he’d called Rainey as soon as he said her name.

“Can you get Dr. Mooney out here for me? Lucia’s hurt her ankle. I don’t think it’s broken, but I’d like him to have a look anyway.”

“I don’t need a doctor, I just need some ice,” I said, but he pretty much ignored me.

“Thanks, Rainey.” He hung up and turned to me. “Let’s not take any chances.”

He lifted me up in his arms, and I blinked back tears with the movement.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“This is getting to be a habit.”

“You carrying me into the house?”

He nodded, navigating his way carefully through the forest so as not to hit branches with my hurt ankle.

“Can I ask you a question, Lucia?”

“Sure.”

“How did I not see Dominic when I came to get you last night?”

How did he know?

“It was dark, but I’m pretty sure I would have seen him,” he continued.

“I wasn’t sure it was him. I overheard them from upstairs, but I never saw who it was.”

“So I’m right, he was there.”

“You mean you didn’t know?” I looked at him, confused.

“Not one hundred percent.”

“Why did you ask it that way, then?” He’d tricked me.

“Wouldn’t you have tried to protect your sister rather than tell me the truth?”

We neared the house, and I saw Rainey waiting by the doors, a large bag of ice in hand.

“Answer my question, Lucia.”

I looked into his deep-blue eyes, seeing not darkness, not rage or hate. I saw instead goodness, as much as one could be good in our world. “Probably,” I answered honestly.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Doctor will be here in twenty minutes. He said to keep it iced and elevated,” Rainey said as we entered the house.

Salvatore laid me on the couch and rested my hurt ankle in his lap as he sat beside me.

Rainey smiled and handed me a cup of her homemade lemonade and two Advil.

“Thought you might need these.”

I returned her smile as I popped the pills in my mouth. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” Rainey went to wait for the doctor, and I took a sip of the lemonade, yelping when Salvatore tugged my shoe off. “That hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

He gently peeled my sock off, inspected the swelling limb, then placed the ice bag on my ankle.

“How did you know about Dominic?”

“I’ve had men watching the house since the day I saw Luke there. Luke’s involved in some dangerous things. I truly hope, for her sake, that Isabella isn’t a part of those things, Lucia.”

I didn’t miss the warning, but Salvatore wouldn’t hurt her. He’d promised.

Salvatore continued. “I guess I was surprised to hear it was Dominic who made a visit in the middle of the night rather than Luke. Is she sleeping with both of them?”

“Salvatore! You don’t know that!
I
don’t know that! She’s not some kind of—” I couldn’t say the word.

“I don’t care if she sleeps with a hundred men in one night, Lucia. But I do care if she’s fucking my brother.”

“She wouldn’t! She hates him. She hates all of you!” I tried to take my ankle off his lap, but he placed the palm of his hand firmly on my thigh.

“Who is Effie’s father, Lucia?”

I looked at him, my breath coming in loud and heavy, my eyes watering with the accusation. It was like he was picking information from my brain. Things I hadn’t yet come to understand, things I couldn’t have be true.

“Why do you do this? Every time I feel like we’re finally getting somewhere, feel like I maybe understand you, why do you have to fuck it all up?”

Two sets of footsteps came from the foyer. “This way, Doctor,” Rainey said, ushering him in.

Salvatore and I had devolved into some kind of staring contest. I finally had to forfeit when a tear rolled down my cheek. I turned away.

“Dr. Mooney,” Salvatore said. “You’ll excuse me for not standing, but I think I’d only cause her pain to move her leg.”

He did. He only caused me pain. Every. Single. Time.