A Mafia Royals Romance Book 3
Autor
Rachel Van Dyken
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32
Prologue
Book Two: Scandalous Prince
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both, and be one traveler, long I stood, and looked down one as far as I could… —Robert Frost
***
Prologue One
I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. —Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
Valerian
I watched her often.
Sometimes I imagined I was her guardian angel, or maybe her avenging knight, the fallen hero who would never have her but could watch from afar.
Watching, after all, didn’t mean touching.
She was wearing white again, so pure as she did a twirl under his hand and then threw her head back and laughed as he bowed, she curtsied, and then the rest of them joined in, the cousins of the Italian mafia.
The royals.
The untouchables.
They had no idea how lucky they were to grow up in a house where parents loved you rather than told you that you shouldn’t have been born. Of course, that was after, but that didn’t lessen the effects of those words.
Bastard.
Liar.
Fool.
For years, I thought that my middle name was Bastard until one of the men took pity on me and told me it was just Valerian.
Imagine a ten-year-old introducing himself as Bastard and not understanding why everyone around him laughed and mocked him in Russian.
Her laugh brought my thoughts back to the present as I stood behind the tree and continued watching, hiding my face in the shadows like I always did when I watched.
She may as well be a siren.
My siren.
And I, the pathetic sailor, begging for her to just let me drown in her arms.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting my stalking. I quickly answered it. “Da?”
“Pora Umerit.”
I hung up.
I had always known the day would come.
“Time to die,” he’d said.
Was it so wrong to hope to see her in my dreams?
“One day,” I whispered, my accent thicker than usual. “I will have you, Violet Abandonato, and it will be my name you scream… not his.”
I turned on my heel and walked off.
Because sometimes, dying meant you were finally going to get a chance to live.
***
Prologue Two
The Beginning…
Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who prefer fire, but if I had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate to say that for destruction, ice is also great and would suffice—Robert Frost
Breaker
Christmas 2019
I tapped the thick red invitation against my thigh. My all-black suit felt like it was choking the life out of me; at least I didn’t have to wear a tie. With my free hand, I adjusted the red mask on my face.
You could see my unnaturally green eyes, square jaw, and full lips, but that was it.
And wasn’t that the point?
Secrecy.
Power.
Greed.
Smokescreens.
“Sir.” An attendant dressed in an all-red suit and black mask held out a tray of red wine. I almost rolled my eyes. Were we fucking mafia vampires now?
Bad enough that I had to even be there when every one of my cousins got a free pass—everyone but Chase’s kids, who were probably bored to tears and ready to set fire to the place.
So many politicians and celebrities to rub shoulders with. My presence alone should make them feel uncomfortable. I was armed to the teeth, ready to act if needed, and prepared to do the one thing I promised Chase I’d do.
Make sure Violet didn’t try to sneak off.
They’d gotten in another fight about the facade of being both a politician’s daughter and an underboss’s daughter and feeling like a fraud every single time she wore her white dress and perfect nude heels and smiled for the cameras.
She would be easy to pick out in the crowd.
Her sleek black hair was the envy of literally every female I knew, and that, matched with her light blue eyes, seriously hot body, high cheekbones, and full lips, made her look like a fallen angel.
One I would desperately like to corrupt. Not that we hadn’t had our moments, some of them embarrassingly fast, but most of them firsts because—regardless of how she treated me in front of her dad—she trusted me, and I was in love with her.
The shitty part was that she never let me get that far, almost like she knew the minute we crossed that line, there would be no going back and only death in our future.
Delivered from Dear Old Dad himself.
I smirked to myself.
Right, the last thing I needed was Chase Abandonato murdering me for touching his perfect daughter.
After all, my blood was no good, according to him.
He didn’t know, though—none of them did—how easy it was for me to play the dumb sheep when I’d been a wolf since birth.
Ready to devour the innocent.
Corrupt the powerful.
And take my rightful place on the stolen throne.
I was running out of time.
This year, I would need to choose.
This year would be the year my adopted dad would find out and force me to make a choice.
I downed the wine in one gulp.
“Gulping wine, how savage of you,” came Andrei Petrov’s rough voice from behind me.
I steeled my expression, chased away the easy-going smile and wink for the cameras as I shed every last emotion and turned to give the boss of both the Russian Petrov Family and the Italian Sinacore Family a cold look.
“Vodka does go down better,” I commented.
“That’s the spirit.” He put his hand on my shoulder and gripped until his fingers dug into my muscle so miserably hard that I winced.
Sick bastard liked to torture people by dangling them in a fucking tiger cage; the last thing I wanted was to get on his bad side.
“Did you need something?” I asked in a bored tone, jerking out of his reach.
Those passing by gave us a wide berth, their ill-concealed whispers drifting to my ears.
“Monster…”
“Murderer…”
And then, of course, “Gorgeous,” from a few women who watched with rapt fascination even though he was married.
“A favor.” He licked his lips and grinned over my head.
Slowly, I turned.
There she was in all her stunning glory, dancing with her father and smiling.
Violet Abandonato, my mission, my curse, the one woman I wasn’t allowed to touch—like the pretty crystal you save for special occasions, the silver you only polish during Christmas.
I might as well be dirt beneath her fingernails.
Chase shot me a wink that just dripped with fake enthusiasm.
I nearly flipped him off in return.
“What’s this favor have to do with?”
“Some… associates.”
“So, some assholes? Awesome, where do I sign up?”
“Rich assholes.” He grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter.
“It won’t take long. My sources say a group of women were trafficked from Europe late last night. They’ll bring them to the club as per usual. I’ll try to get as many away as possible, and as for the remaining ones…”
Bile rose in my throat. “Can’t save them all.”
“I’ll let them choose; I always do.”
They either chose service or death.
The only choices given, so it didn’t look suspicious, so Andrei could control the trafficking underworld without as much of a hint of goodness. They had to believe he was the demon he claimed to be when people closest to him knew best—he was their dark knight—their savior.
The ones that stayed weren’t allowed to be beaten, but being sold into prostitution, no matter how high profile, wasn’t usually what little girls grew up wanting to pursue.
“Wish I could help, but I’m on babysitting duty.”
Violet did another twirl with her dad. The lights overhead caught the shine in her hair, which was pulled into a bun so tight that I wondered if she had a throbbing headache.
Diamonds dripped from her ears, sparkling with each turn, and her white form-fitting strapless dress did nothing to hide the curves I was itching to palm.
Andrei snorted. “Perfect little Violet looks ready to run away screaming. One day she’ll snap. I hope it’s you who gets to see it happen.”
I cursed. “Are you insinuating that I should bring her to your club, where several high-profile people will be bidding on women? Are you insane? Besides, they know who she is.”
Andrei rolled his eyes. “Nothing happens in my club without my permission. We’ll let her sit at the bar and drink away her sorrows.”
“Yes, because that won’t make Chase want to murder me—getting his daughter drunk on guard duty,” I spat.
“Grow a pair,” Andrei growled and then crooked his finger at Violet.
She seemed relieved that the devil wanted to chat with her.
Never thought I’d see the day when Violet was happy to see Andrei.
He was like the horror story you tell small children—the monster who lived under your bed, the demon that hovered over your lifeless body at night.
She gave her dad a kiss on the cheek and then made her way over to us. Her perma-smile made my face hurt.
“Gentlemen.” She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed Andrei once on each cheek, and then gave me a cold stare.
Deserved.
She hated that the one guy who got under her skin, the one person who knew her better than she knew herself, was forced to watch her while she pretended to be what Chase needed her to be.
I swear every single time I stole a heated glance in her direction, I prayed she’d remember our first kiss or dry-humping like idiots with raging hormones in her dad’s pool house.
I blew her a kiss and winked.
She clenched her teeth like she wanted to bite me and then turned her attention to Andrei, flashing him a shiny bright smile. “Did you need something?”
“I think…” Andrei grinned. “…it’s you who needs something. We’re going to let you escape, though you’ll need to make a small detour at the club.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really,” I said dryly. “I’m going to help Andrei. It won’t be long. You can drink your weight in cosmos, and I’ll even carry your ass out the door when you’re too drunk to walk in a straight line.”
She flinched. “My hero.”
“I try,” I smirked.
She seemed to shudder, and then she gave Andrei a curt nod. “Sounds fun. Let me just let my dad know I’m not getting kidnapped.”
“I wish,” I muttered under my breath, earning a sharp heel slamming into my right foot.
I winced.
Again, deserved.
Candles flickered around the room as more people started to dance and drink. Hell, it felt like a cult; the way they worshiped Chase wasn’t right.
He was too rich.
Too powerful.
Too good-looking.
And he had the ear of the United States President.
Hell had indeed frozen over for the state of Illinois. If only they knew who wielded all the power now that he was in office, now that he could put who he wanted into the cabinet, now that he’d helped pick advisors.
I sighed as he made his way over to us.
“Keep her safe,” he snarled under his breath.
“My blood for hers.” I gave the pledge I always did since I had first started following her last year.
Chase leaned in and kissed my right cheek, then whispered, “Make sure she has a bit of fun. She’s pissed she’s had to wear those heels for three hours.”
“When is she not pissed at these things?” I wondered out loud.
“It’s necessary,” he said coldly. “And remember the rules: no touching her, no looking at her and fantasizing, absolutely nothing that could mean I’ll have to kill you.”
“Got it.” I stood back and winked. “Plus, I have enough female attention; the last thing I need is one who’d probably suffocate me with a pillow just to see my legs twitch.”
Chase grinned. “That was a good day.”
“Yeah, it really was—nearly dying.” I rolled my eyes. “Have fun. Give Luc my love.”
“My wife,” he barked.
I made a face. “I’m eighteen; don’t be weird.”
Andrei just chuckled under his breath while Violet returned with her matching white coat.
Sometimes I wondered if Chase did it on purpose.
Made her wear white to make himself look less covered in blood.
Made her wear white to remind me she was an untouchable queen.
And I? I was the slave. The adopted bastard son of someone he didn’t even ask to know.
Wouldn’t that be the shock of his life?
I almost laughed.
“Let’s go.” I put an arm around Violet and attempted to keep my body from reacting—
like it always did when we were this close.
But it was like holding your breath.
You last thirty seconds, maybe more, and then you’re gasping for air, greedy for it; my hands trembled a bit as I lowered my palm down her back and held it there.
She sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t look in my direction.
And when we got into the waiting limo, she kept her expression blank as she stared straight ahead.
Classical music turned on.
I groaned. “Tchaikovsky? Really, Andrei?”
He smacked me in the back of the head. “It’s called culture, I’m almost insulted to call you—” He hesitated. “Human.”
I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Nice save, asshole.
Violet shifted in the leather seat, drumming her fingertips along her tanned thigh.
I reached for her hand and scowled. “Red fingernail polish—how scandalous! Next thing your dad knows, you’re going to start having sex and watching porn.”
She jerked her hand away, her cheeks flushed. “Could you keep your lewd thoughts to yourself, Campisi?”
“I could. Will I? No, no, I won’t. I like pushing your buttons.” Pushing, touching, caressing, really, I didn’t discriminate when it came to her or any other girl. I gave her a chipper grin.
“Besides, who else is going to teach you about the birds and the bees? See, guys have these things called cocks and—”
“Andrei, if you don’t muzzle him, I’m going to pull out my knife and shove it against his scrawny throat!”
“There she is.” I slowly clapped. “Welcome back to earth, princess. You’re not in front of the cameras; people aren’t hanging on your every word while you discuss global warming and the need for true leadership in America. You’re so damn uptight I wouldn’t be surprised if those diamond earrings came from your ass.”
Andrei chuckled and looked up from his phone. “I approve of this message.”
“You’re both impossible.” She crossed her arms and then moved against the leather again and sighed, pulling down her skirt.
“Knife.” I held out my hand.
After some hesitation, she dug into her purse, then handed it to me; it had the Abandonato crest on the hilt and was sharp as hell.
I tore into her expensive dress and made quick work of creating two slits on either side of her dress. “Better?”
She swallowed uncomfortably and nodded.
Shit, she was still thinking about the party, still wondering if her performance was good enough, probably going over every mistake that nobody even saw.
I sighed and handed her the knife back. “The pointy side goes—”
She let out a shriek, then held the pointy side dangerously close to my dick. See? All she needed was a bit of encouragement.
“You better pray to God we don’t get in an accident or slam on the brakes because you’ll lose the smallest appendage you have.”
I barked out a laugh. God, I loved her like this. “Yes, because that’s what girls say when I fuck them. You were on vacation with us last year. Did you hear any complaints?”
Her face fell.
Best friends that can never be together.
Fun story.
Tell me more.
“Children.” Andrei yawned. “Put the knives away, please.”
Violet jerked away.
I flipped her off.
And the universe naturally restored itself to rights.
With Violet ready to impale me.
And my body wishing it could impale her.
Fantastic.
The car finally pulled up to Andrei’s club. One of his giant bouncers was already opening the front door to let us in.
People waited in the freezing Chicago cold with the hopes of gaining entrance when it was nearly impossible after eleven at night.
Shrieks were heard when all three of us made our way to the front of the line. They knew what we were, who we were—the whole world did—but nobody could really prove shit, and when you had people in the FBI, CIA, NSA, and the highest levels of government on your payroll, things just naturally went missing.
Files.
Hard drives.
People.
We ducked into the club; the techno was a welcome change from the classical music in the car.
We wandered over to the bar, I pulled out Violet’s chair, and then I crooked my finger at the bartender. “Keep her hydrated.”
“Whatever you say, Breaker.” Tank winked.
Not only did the guy work for the FBI, but on really busy nights, he took on a shift at the club to learn people’s secrets, because alcohol tended to make you loose-lipped and because we still had lots of enemies.
“Think you’ll be able to survive without me?” I whispered in Violet’s ear.
She shot me a glare. “Must you stand so close?”
“Must you be so fucking tempting?” I snapped my teeth and then ran a bare knuckle down her shoulder.
Her skin immediately broke out in goosebumps. “Not here, Breaker, don’t.”
“I love it when your innocent little mouth lies while your body shakes for me… literally,” I growled. “One day, I might lose all self-control. I hope to God I’m the one that gets to watch you come undone.”
She gave me a hard shove, but her eyes said something completely different; they always did, they always had, they always would. “If I wanted syphilis, there are more enjoyable ways to get it! And people to get it from.”
I cackled out a laugh. “Yeah, okay, don’t go running off, I’ll be right back.”
I was gone maybe twenty minutes, helping Andrei with the girls as they were introduced one by one, given numbers instead of names—his idea to keep it all about business. Money exchanged hands. And then the announcement was made.
The auction would start in four minutes.
Men of all shapes and sizes started shuffling into the private rooms to watch the women, to watch the show.
They couldn’t touch, but they could bid, and all their money was going into setting the women free that we could.
It was a shit show.
All in all, about half the women decided to stay as long as they were given citizenship.
The others wanted to go back.
I yawned behind my hand as I watched it all go down and then nearly shit myself when a group of five men walked into the room who were most definitely not Team Andrei.
Or Team Italy.
“Drei,” I barked as my worst nightmare walked into the small room, holding my everything hostage, including my heart. “Problem.”
My life would not be the same after this.
Neither would hers.
For once, I understood the feeling of being completely powerless as I looked into her eyes and knew.
This moment would alter us forever.
And there would be no going back.
I moved to grab her, to kill every last one of those bastards that held her in their arms, but Andrei held out his hand, stopping me instantly in my tracks. “No.”
Rage pulsed in cadence to the heavy drum of my heartbeat as blood roared inside my body.
They had no right to touch her.
Violet locked eyes with me and slowly nodded as if to say, stop, it’s okay, but she didn’t know what these guys did, and she had no clue that the look she was giving me would haunt me into the next life—and maybe more.
It wasn’t a look of war.
It was one that said to keep the peace.
And she would be the first sacrifice.
