A Mafia Royals Romance Book 2

“Shhhh,” Junior clapped a hand over my mouth as voices sounded around the corner.

Our dads.

Both of them.

I grinned against his palm while he rolled his eyes and leaned in, pressing me against the wall. We were blanketed in darkness, just us. His scent wrapped around me in a way that felt like a fantasy. He tasted like cinnamon; the heat between our bodies would sear a normal person alive.

But we weren’t normal.

We were best friends.

Who just happened to be sleeping together.

At sixteen.

And he was a few months older—the dads would flip if they knew—all of them.

They wouldn’t approve. It was one of their many rules. And only they knew the real reason they didn’t want any of us together.

But telling me I couldn’t have what I wanted was basically like begging me to do it; I snuck into Junior’s bedroom when I was fifteen.

And the rest was history.

We’d been inseparable ever since.

“Mmmm…” Junior ran his hands down my sides, his fingers grazing skin as he tilted his head at a different angle. The hushed voices coming from the living room only made the moment hotter, more urgent. They’d kill us for being together.

I wasn’t even exaggerating.

That was the price we paid for being born into mafia royalty.

And yet, I didn’t care; maybe I would if I had a gun pointed at me, but right now? All I wanted was him.

With every kiss, I lied and said it was worth a life; life is fleeting anyway, why not spend it in someone’s arms? Better yet, why not spend it in his bed?

“We’re going to get caught.” Junior pulled away and sighed, then pressed his forehead against mine. His eyes were an ocean blue, almost teal; I always had trouble focusing when he watched me like he wanted me to know he saw everything, and what he saw, he wanted—desperately.

“Not today, we won’t.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Besides, we know how to fight.”

He gave me a dubious look. “You do realize that the body count of both of our dads rivals that of the Capo…”

I ignored the mention of the glorified Godfather of the Five Families and pressed against his rock-hard body and winked. “Worth it.”

“Fuck.” He kissed me again and again, pressing me so hard against the wall that I could feel every inch of him burning into me, dying for me.

My hands tangled in his hair as I tried to hold on to him, wrapping my legs around him, holding him prisoner.

The voices got louder.

We broke apart at the exact minute my cousin Ash rounded the corner and stared at us in frustration. “You’re going to get caught, and I’m not gonna go down with the ship.”

I grinned. “Awww, you’re just pissed because you aren’t getting any.” I loved teasing Ash. It was too easy to get him to react, just like his dad Chase, like a bomb ready to go off.

“You shouldn’t be getting any at all!” He clenched his teeth. “Uncle Nixon’s gonna flip his shit if he finds out about you two.”

“Dad will be fine.” I sounded more confident than I felt. My dad was a killer and the boss of the Abandonato Family. I loved him more than life itself. He would understand this; he would side with me; he always did.

Right?

I mean, I was his princess, heir to the throne, and we were best friends, me and my dad, not that he didn’t love Bella. My little sister was spoiled rotten, but she was ten years younger than me, which meant all the responsibility of the Family would fall onto my very capable shoulders.

“It’s not just that…” Ash looked between us. “If it was anyone else…”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Junior shoved Ash’s chest, causing Ash to stumble backward. He looked more annoyed than anything; I expected knives to get pulled any minute.

It’s how we solved everything.

Violence.

“Phoenix Nicolasi, former De Lange—”

We both gaped while Junior shoved him again. “The hell, man! You can’t say that name… not here.”

Ash made the motion of the cross over his chest like it would somehow prevent the past from haunting our future and sighed. “Look, all I’m saying is, if it were anyone else, they’d probably look the other way, but precious Serena shacking up with dipshit—” he grinned at Junior “—that’s you, by the way.”

“Fuck. You.” Junior pulled out his dagger.

It still had blood on the blade.

Awesome.

“You guys don’t know the history between them. Sure, the bosses all look happy now, but Phoenix did some serious shit back in the day. Let’s just say there’s no way that this is gonna slide. One or both of you are going to end up dead, and then who would braid Izzy’s hair?”

“Low blow,” Junior grumbled while I laughed. He loved Izzy, Ash’s twin sister, more than anything, even resorting to helping braid her super thick hair when she broke her arm a few weeks ago.

“Look, this has been fun.” I slapped Ash on the shoulder. “But I have a guy to screw, so if you could just be anywhere but here… that would be great.”

Junior snickered, then shoved Ash again and winked. “Maybe you should be our new lookout.”

“Fresh out of earplugs.”

“You’ll survive.” Junior grinned, then jerked me into his bedroom and shut the door.

We were a mixture of laughter, soft sighs, moans, hands, and all the touching in the world.

“He’s wrong, you know,” Junior said in between kisses. “You’re mine, and you will always be mine.”

“Yours.” I lifted my shirt over my head while he tugged my jeans down. “Always yours.”

“Damn right, you are.” His kiss was punishing.

And I took it. Again and again, never believing there would be a day when our love would start a war.

And our friendship would shatter into a million pieces.

Then again, the worst thing you could do in the mafia is hang on to hope that your life would be normal.

The second worst thing?

Fall in love with your best friend.

Enemy.

And heir to the Nicolasi throne.

“Shhhh…” Junior smiled against my mouth before he grabbed his black tank and pulled it over his body. Even at sixteen, he was gorgeous, muscular—we had our parents to thank for that.

We were a dynasty in the making.

We’d had no choice but to learn how to fight.

I raked my nails down his chest; already he had tattoos lining his right arm. The only reason Phoenix let it slide was because most of the bosses knew that the pain in getting a tattoo helped develop a tolerance for pain from a gunshot wound or blade.

Sick but true.

I yawned behind my hand, earning a quick smirk from Junior. “Really? You’re just going to lay there naked?”

I turned to my side. “See something else you like?”

He cursed. “I’m going to hell, aren’t I?”

“Probably.” I laughed, and then we heard more voices down the hall, mainly Asher yelling like a banshee.

“Quick!” Junior tossed me my jeans; I hurried and put them on, shoved my underwear under his bed, then pulled over my sports bra and tank just as the voices grew louder.

It was my dad.

And Phoenix.

Chase.

It was all of them.

All of the bosses! I could hear each distinct voice and then an accented one—meaning that Andrei, the Sinacore-Petrov boss, was also here.

“Why are they here?” I mouthed to Junior.

He just shrugged. “Family dinner?”

I burst out laughing just as the door opened. We looked as casual as ever—me on the bed texting, Junior at his desk working on a nonexistent paper.

See? We knew how to not get caught.

Chase stepped into the room. His eyes narrowed in on me and then Junior. “You guys studying?”

“Failing, he’s failing.” I pointed to Junior and earned a middle finger and grunt in response.

“You look fancy today, Uncle Chase.” I grinned wide. “Good day saving the world?”

“He’s a U.S. senator, not the president,” Junior mumbled under his breath. “This is why you go to school, Serena—to learn shit.”

“And so eloquently spoken,” I said sarcastically.

Chase watched our exchange too closely. And then he sniffed the air like some freaking tracker!

My pulse picked up.

I could see Junior’s slow swallow as he kept typing. His body was completely rigid. Okay, so maybe we weren’t the best liars, but we were teenagers! What did they expect?

“Something wrong?” I stood and crossed my arms.

Chase’s icy stare returned to me, his eyes laser-focused, his hair was longer now, swept to the side; I could see tattoos swirling out from underneath his black button-down shirt. “I would cut the shit before your dad finds out, Serena.”

I scoffed. “Finds out that I let Junior do my homework?”

“The hell you do,” Junior yelled.

“It smells like sex,” Chase said through clenched teeth. “We’ll talk about it later, but for now, you’ve been summoned.”

I gulped. “Just me and Junior?”

Chase’s expression hardened. “All of you, everyone over the age of thirteen.”

I mentally did the math.

So that meant Junior and me, as well as Asher, Breaker, Violet, Izzy, Maksim, and—I wanted to vomit—my younger cousin King, but he was only thirteen. A sickness washed over me as I nodded once to my uncle and waited for Junior to walk with me.

I needed his strength.

Because I knew what a summoning meant.

It meant we had to choose.

But that word was even a lie, wasn’t it?

To live meant to bleed for the Family.

To die meant to turn your back on blood.

Bile rose in my throat as we followed Uncle Chase down the hallway—I knew I would remember each step, the way my heart thumped against my chest as we reached the main living room and looked around.

Everyone was there.

And I do mean everyone.

Aunts, uncles, cousins, and more importantly—the five bosses, Abandonato, Nicolasi, Alfero, Sinacore-Petrov, and our Capo dei Capi, Tex Campisi.

This was no family dinner.

My dad eyed me; my mom wiped a tear from her cheek. I almost asked who died, and then my dad, the strongest man I have ever known—pulled out a gun.

My dad never scared me. Because it was in my blood too, the need to destroy so I could make sure I was still alive. Blood of my blood. Soul of my soul. We were one and the same. Why would I ever be afraid of him? It would be like looking in the mirror and screaming out of terror for myself.

But in that moment, I was afraid.

“Serena,” he rasped. “Come forward.”

My legs took me to his six-foot-two frame. He was wearing a black-on-black suit; his lip ring flickered under the lights. His blue eyes searched mine. And then he pointed the gun to my forehead and whispered, “Make your choice.”

I almost hurled all over his Armani suit. I could see my mom out of the corner of my eye, silently weeping—hoping I would choose the Family, choose blood, and a life of war. “If you stay, you earn your patron saint when you make your first kill—if you aren’t with us, you are against us; you will turn and walk seven steps, counting each one out loud until there are no more steps to take, and your heart will beat no more.”

Shaking, I stared my dad down and whispered, “Blood in, no out.” Then I very slowly kneeled in front of him and waited as the blood of my father dripped slowly over my head.

Crowning me Queen.

I was his firstborn, after all.

His legacy.

And I would rather chop off my own arm than disappoint him.

He held out his bloodied hand.

I took it and stood.

He flipped my hand over and sliced across my palm. It stung like hell, and he immediately pressed his bloodied palm to mine and said in such a sad voice that I wanted to burst into tears, “I have taken over thirty-seven souls from this earth. You will do that and more for the Family—your soul is no longer yours—it’s ours. Welcome to the Family.” He bent down and kissed each cheek, and then in a shaky voice, whispered, “Next.”

One by one, the cousins went.

Ash was next.

Chase was ruthless, but Chase was notorious for having no moral compass. He didn’t even give Ash the option. Then again, Ash had been doing a lot of killing lately. He was already a made man, so all he had to do was swear fealty to the Family—or at least, so I thought, and then I saw a knife get jabbed somewhere between rib one and two.

“Remember the pain.” Chase gritted his teeth. “Let it burn down to your very soul, and remember that you are in the business of giving death—not life.” He pulled the knife out. Ash swayed a bit, then nodded.

“Next,” Chase said in a bold voice.

Junior walked up to his dad, Phoenix. If there were ever a person to be petrified of, it would be Phoenix. He didn’t even know the meaning of the word good. He dealt in death and secrets. He kept the Five Families safe.

And had a history nobody would tell any of the kids about.

But I saw the times my dad flinched when Phoenix talked to my mom. Even when they were laughing, there was an underlying tension.

Phoenix went through the pledge, Junior knelt in front of his father, and when he stood, it wasn’t just his dad that slit his palm and pressed it to his, but mine stepped forward.

Tension swirled around the room.

What the hell?

I gulped as my dad gripped his still-bloody dagger and then grabbed Junior’s forearm, digging the tip of the knife into his skin and very slowly creating a bloodied circle.

Junior clenched his teeth in pain as my dad leaned in and pressed his bloodied palm to the fresh wound and with venom in his words spat, “The sins of the father are passed down—break my trust, and I’ll remove this scar from your body and make you wear one around your face.”

I gaped.

“Yes, sir,” Junior didn’t look at me.

He didn’t give us away.

But I knew... the stakes were higher now.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur as Breaker stood in front of his father. Maksim was next, and our bloody oaths continued as the younger kids watched with wide eyes.

Their own mothers not even telling them to turn away.

Because why would they do them such a great disservice of not preparing them for their future?

When it was all over with, everyone cheered, wine was poured, and I went into the bathroom. Asher didn’t even knock, just walked right in, followed by Junior, Maksim, Violet, Izzy, King, and finally Breaker.

We sat on whatever surface we could find.

“One tear,” Junior whispered. “You get one tear, and then we walk back out there and celebrate.”

I nodded, and sure enough, one tear fell. Asher wiped it away from my cheek since he was closest, and then we all stood and stared at one another.

“We won’t fail,” Junior said, voice hoarse. “Because everyone’s lives depend on us now.”

“Us,” Asher repeated.

My heart broke for Breaker as his eyes searched mine. I gave him a reaffirming nod.

And then his small voice piped up. “Blood in.”

“No out,” we said in unison.