Bound By Love (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 6)

Six years later, ARIA

“No!” Amo screamed, stamping his foot. He picked up his shoes and threw them across the room. He was already tall for three and could throw remarkably far for a young child.

“We won’t go outside if you don’t put on shoes,” I said, stifling a sigh.

He was boisterous, strong-willed and hotheaded. He was a small version of Luca, black hair, gray eyes, with hints of Matteo’s temper.

“Pick up your shoes and put them on.”

Amo shook his head at me, crossing his arms over his small chest. “No!”

“Amo.” Luca’s voice was firm.

Amo’s gaze flitted toward Luca, who stood in the doorway, and his eyes widened but then he jutted his chin out. He was in his defiant phase. So far he’d never been defiant toward Luca though. “No,” he said.

Luca walked in. “What did you say?”

Amo glared at the floor. “No.” Hesitation swung in his voice.

My eyes darted between Luca and Amo. I knew Amo would follow in Luca’s footsteps. He would become Capo one day. He would become a Made Man long before he was of age. He would have to be strong for the tasks ahead, hardened, and he would have to learn respect. Luca stopped in front of our son. He’d not once raised his hand against Amo or Marcella, never hurt them in any other way, and he would never do so, and usually they obeyed anyway.

Luca crouched down, expression unrelenting. “Look at me,” he ordered, and Amo raised his eyes to his father’s. Luca pointed at the shoes. “You will pick them up and you will put them on. Understood, Amo?” His voice held authority and Amo nodded slowly, but his expression was still defiant as he trudged toward the shoes. Yet he got down on his butt and slipped the shoes on.

Luca shook his head. I touched his arm. “The phase will pass,” I assured him.

He smiled wryly. “He is too much like Matteo. I will need the patience of a saint.”

Amo grew frustrated when he didn’t manage to bind his shoes, and angry tears gathered in his gray eyes. I could tell he wanted to throw his shoes again.

Luca walked over and got down on his haunches, then showed Amo how to do it. Amo smiled when he managed to do it himself. “Remember, Amo, no crying when someone could see you. Not even in anger or frustration,” Luca said quietly but firmly. “It’s okay to cry when you are alone with your mother or me.”

Amo nodded and blinked a few times. Luca stood and held out his hand. “Let’s check out your uncle’s new bike. It’s even faster than his last.”

Amo took Luca’s hand and beamed up at his father.

They looked so much alike, it filled my heart with ridiculous happiness. Luca had been worried he’d be too hard on a son, especially if he looked like him, but he needn’t have worried. He was strict toward Amo but never cruel. He wasn’t anything like his father.

LUCA

After we’d inspected Matteo’s new bike, Amo dashed off again, probably to bug his sister.

“I’m starving,” Matteo said. “Why don’t we go in and check if your little monsters left us any leftovers.”

We walked back up the driveway and entered the mansion. With her six years, Marcella looked remarkably like her mother, except for the black hair. She raced toward me the moment I entered, Amo hot on her heels.

She hugged my middle, peering up at me with a pout. “Amo hit me!”

My eyes flew toward my son. Amo glared at his sister. “She hit me first!”

“Because you took my doll and ripped its head off.”

I narrowed my eyes at my son. “You don’t ever raise your hand against your sister, understood?”

He gave a reluctant nod. I caught Marcella poking her tongue out at him and nudged her chin up with my finger. I was often too lenient with her, but it was hard to be strict when she looked at me with her mother’s eyes and face. “And you won’t hit your brother again.”

She flushed. “Okay.”

I turned back to Amo, who looked triumphantly at his sister. “Why did you rip the doll’s head off?”

His face scrunched up in disgust. “Marci made kissy noises and told me to kiss it.”

Matteo leaned in the doorway, chuckling.

“Why don’t you torture your uncle?” I suggested.

Amo didn’t need to be told twice, of course. With a battle cry, he stormed toward Matteo and latched on to his leg like a spider monkey. Marcella was close behind and started tugging at Matteo’s arm, trying to bring him to his knees.

“Mercy,” he moaned and went down. I rolled my eyes at his theatrical performance but my kids loved it. Matteo began tickling them and Amo dashed away, out of reach and hid behind me. I chuckled and tousled his hair. He pressed up to my leg. It seemed ridiculous that I’d ever thought I would be cruel to a son. I was stricter with him and I had to harden him, but I would never hurt him like our father had hurt Matteo and me.

Matteo got Marcella and began tickling her. “Help!” she called between laughs. Amo released me and flung himself back at Matteo to help his sister. My smile fell the second Amo reached for Matteo’s gun in the holster at his waist.

“No,” I growled sharply, and he snatched his hand back at once. Both Marcella and him watched me wide-eyed.

Matteo cleared his throat and pointed at his holster. “You won’t ever touch a gun without your father’s or my permission.”

They both nodded but still threw glances my way. Sighing, I walked over to them and tousled their hair, glad when they relaxed, my sharp tone forgotten. “Why don’t you find your mother?”

With a nod and a smile, they rushed off.

“I wouldn’t have let him touch my gun,” Matteo assured me as I straightened.

“I know,” I said. Eventually, Amo would learn to handle guns and knives, but under our supervision and not at three years old.

My cell rang. I didn’t recognize the number. I raised the phone to my ear. “Yes?”

“Luca,” said a male voice. “It’s been a while. It’s Fabiano.”

I almost dropped the fucking phone. “Fabiano Scuderi?” I motioned for Matteo to follow me outside and turned the speakerphone on.

“I am calling you in my Capo’s name.”

Matteo’s eyebrows shot up.

“Your Capo?” I repeated, still trying to process the news that this was Fabiano.

“Remo Falcone. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” A hint of amusement rang in his voice.

I heard about him all right. Ever since he took over Las Vegas and most of the West, he was a nagging headache.

“You contacted us for negotiations regarding delivery routes for your drugs. I am his Enforcer, and I would like to come to New York for negotiations in Remo’s stead.”

Matteo shot me a look and mouthed Enforcer. It had been weeks since I’d sent Remo a message through a middleman. The Outfit was intercepting our drug deliveries, and Remo’s territory was our best option to find new delivery routes. I didn’t trust Remo one bit, but drugs were our main business and I needed to make decisions that helped the Famiglia despite my personal feelings toward Remo. Since working with Dante was out of the question that left only the fucking Camorra, even if I hated the thought.

“I did,” I said carefully.

“We have a common enemy, Luca, and that’s the Outfit. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

I didn’t like his tone but agreed to a meeting in three days, then hung up.

“He’s not dead,” Matteo muttered. “Our wives will be ecstatic to see him again.”

“He is Enforcer of the Camorra, Matteo.”

“So you won’t tell Aria?”

I considered my options. If I didn’t tell Aria that her brother came to New York, she’d be heartbroken, but him being Remo’s man, she would be heartbroken seeing him too. “How could we miss this?” I muttered.

“We have enough to do with the fucking Outfit, the Bratva and those fucking MCs. It’s not like we had spare time to worry about the fucking Camorra. They never breached our territory or gave us trouble.”

I nodded, but still. If Remo had managed to keep Fabiano’s existence a secret for so long, that meant his men were loyal to the bone and that he had iron control of his city. I knew Nino Falcone was his second in command, and they had been the ones I’d heard about, but they worked quietly.

“What do you think is his true motivation for the visit?” Matteo asked eventually.

I wasn’t sure. Remo was unpredictable. His appearance in New York six years ago had proven that. “We will find out.”

Aria was practically bouncing with nerves beside me. Growl shook his head, grimacing. His eyes sought mine. Aria still thought she’d be united with the brother she remembered, but he wouldn’t be that boy. Growl, Matteo and I knew it. Growl had been the Camorra’s Enforcer for years and from what he’d told us, Fabiano must have changed into someone without mercy to become Remo’s Enforcer.

I tensed when the door opened and a tall, muscled man with short blond hair and blue eyes stepped in. The last time I’d seen him, he’d had trouble hiding his emotions. He’d gotten past that. His cold scrutiny tightened my muscles. Growl touched his gun, hatred written all across his face when Fabiano’s eyes settled on him.

Aria rushed forward and I wasn’t quick enough to stop her.

Fabiano narrowed his eyes and tensed when she threw her arms around him. I drew my gun, aiming it straight at his head, and so did Growl and Matteo.

His hand curled around Aria’s neck as she clung to him, and he smirked. I should have killed him seven years ago when he still was a boy. He held her neck in a way that would allow him to break it easily. Aria peered up, and finally realization set in. This wasn’t her brother anymore.

“No need for drawn weapons,” Fabiano drawled in a self-assured tone. “I haven’t traveled all the way here to hurt my sister.”

He lowered his hand, and I stepped forward and pulled Aria away from him.

“My God,” she whispered. “What happened to you?”

“You, Gianna, and Liliana happened.”

Aria was close to tears beside me. “I don’t understand.”

“After Liliana ran off as well, Father decided that something must be wrong with all of us. That perhaps Mother’s blood running through our veins was the problem. He thought I was another mistake in the making. He tried to beat it out of me. Maybe he thought if I bled often enough, I’d be rid of any trace of that weakness. The moment his whore of a second wife gave birth to a boy, he decided I was no longer of use. He ordered one of his men to kill me. The man took pity on me and drove me to some shithole in Kansas City so the Bratva could kill me instead. I had twenty dollars and a knife. And I put that knife to good use.”

I tightened my hold on Aria because she made a move as if to go closer to him. “We didn’t want to hurt you. We just wanted to save Liliana from a horrible marriage. We didn’t think you’d need saving. You were a boy. You were on your way to becoming a soldier for the Outfit. We would have saved you if you’d asked.”

“I saved myself.”

“You could still … leave Las Vegas,” Aria said carefully.

I shot her a look. Was she blind to the truth? Fabiano was a loyal man, but his loyalties lay with Remo Falcone. I wondered how he’d done it. How had Remo, that twisted teenager from many years ago, gained so many loyal followers? How had he managed to unite all the Underbosses of the West? The Camorra was as strong as they had been in the past, and it was a fucking problem.

Fabiano laughed. “Are you suggesting I’ll leave the Camorra and join the Famiglia?”

“It’s an option.”

No, it wasn’t. And I wouldn’t have taken him in, not anymore.

Fabiano challenged me with his eyes. “Is she Capo or you? I came here to talk to the man leading the show, but now I think it might be a woman after all.”

Provocation was his tactic, like it had been that of Remo in the past. “She is your sister. She does the talking because I allowed her to do so. Don’t worry, Fabi—if I had anything to say to you, I’d say it.”

“We are not your enemy, Fabi,” Aria said.

We were. If it wasn’t for Aria, I would have ended Fabiano in this moment.

“I’m a member of the Camorra. You are my enemies. I have a message from Remo for you.” He met my gaze and his twisted grin made my blood boil. “You have nothing to offer Remo or the Camorra, unless perhaps you send him your wife for a joy ride.”

I lunged at him, wanting to crush his fucking throat, but Aria stepped in the way and I had to jerk to a stop or I would have barreled into her. “Calm down, Luca,” Aria begged, her eyes full of despair.

I shook with suppressed rage as I glared at Fabiano. I would kill him one day.

Fabiano bowed mockingly. “I assume that’s all.”

“Don’t you want to know how Lily and Gianna are doing?” Aria asked hopefully. That she didn’t mention Marcella and Amo told me that despite her hope, she knew her brother was a threat and not family.

“They mean nothing to me. The day you left for your pampered life in New York, you ceased existing for me.”

Fabiano turned around and left, and I let him. Let him because of Aria, and because I couldn’t fucking risk war with the Camorra at the moment.

Matteo twisted his knife, looking like he wanted to go after Fabiano and slice his throat.

Aria turned to face me with shock-widened eyes. “What happened to him?”

“The Camorra,” Growl rasped. “And Remo fucking Falcone. I met him only a few times, but even as a boy my half-brother was…” He shook his head. “Can’t find the right word.”

“Yeah,” Matteo said.

Aria walked past me and sank down on the sofa, her back to us.

I motioned for my brother and Growl to leave us alone. When they were out, I touched Aria’s shoulder. She peered up at me, unshed tears in her eyes. She leaned her cheek against my hand on her shoulder.

Then she held up a piece of paper. I frowned.

“Fabiano put it in my pocket asking for a meeting tonight.” She swallowed. “Alone.”

“You won’t go.”

She stood and lifted her chin. “I will go. I need to give him one last chance.”

“Aria, he won’t take it. You know why he wants you alone.”

She looked away. “You don’t know that. He is my brother. Maybe he needs to talk to me alone.” But I could see the doubt in her expression.

“Let’s go home,” I said. “And tonight we’ll meet him together.”

She nodded.

When we stepped into our penthouse, Lily, heavily pregnant, sat on the couch with Amo and Marcella. Aria walked over to our children and hugged them tightly and kissed the top of their heads. Lily frowned, gaze questioning. I wouldn’t be the one to tell a woman due any day now that her brother was a member of the Camorra, and Aria didn’t seem too eager sharing that piece of information either.

“Mom, I can do a handstand!” Marcella said proudly.

Amo nodded enthusiastically.

“Then let’s see,” I encouraged her.

Marcella got up. “You have to catch my feet, Dad.”

“I will.” She stepped close and then she fell forward. With her momentum she would have fallen over, but I caught her feet.

Aria clapped. I lifted Marcella off the ground by her legs and she began giggling when I swung her back and forth. Amo stormed toward me. “Me too!”

I put Marcella down and gripped Amo, letting him hang head down as well.

Aria laughed, shaking her head. “Your head is turning red, Amo.”

I raised Amo higher so I could see his face, and he grinned widely. “Higher!”

I complied but when his head turned too red, I set him down.

“Now go wash your hands,” Aria said, and Marcella and Amo dashed off toward the bathroom.

“Can you watch them tonight as well?” I asked.

Liliana glanced between Aria and me. “Did something happen?”

Aria shook her head. “No. Luca and I only need some time to ourselves.”

“Okay,” Liliana said slowly. “Romero picks me up in thirty minutes. We can take Marcella and Amo home with us and bring them back tomorrow around lunch?”

“Thank you,” Aria said, hugging her sister.

It was almost two in the morning when we got into our car and headed toward the meeting point Fabiano had mentioned in his letter. Aria was quiet beside me. I reached for her hand and she gave me a grateful smile.

She looked resolved, not broken-hearted as I’d feared. She fumbled with a bracelet on her left wrist. It was the first time I’d seen it on her. Usually she only wore the bracelet I had given her. I parked in a side street and turned to Aria. She noticed my gaze on her wrist. “It was my mother’s. I want to give it to Fabiano.”

“Aria, I know you think you can still appeal to his heart, but trust me when I say that as Enforcer of the Camorra, he can’t allow himself a soft heart.”

She gave me a strange smile. “I am surrounded by men like him. They are my family. I am married to one.”

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“Or are you saying that Fabiano has done worse than you?”

I wasn’t sure what Fabiano had or hadn’t done, but I had committed pretty much any crime imaginable. There was only one difference between the Famiglia and the Camorra, and it was the one crime I wasn’t guilty of.

“They don’t spare women, Aria.”

She swallowed audibly. “I know. But I have to believe that there is good in him.” She touched my chest where my Famiglia tattoo was. “I got through to you. Perhaps I can get through to him.”

If anyone could do it, then it was Aria. She had won my heart after all.

It had begun snowing when we got out of the car. I drew my Beretta, listening for suspicious noises, but it was quiet except for the sound of traffic in the distance.

Aria shivered. “Don’t kill him. Please.”

I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t something I could promise. If he made a wrong move, I’d end him before he could harm Aria.

“Don’t mention Marcella or Amo,” I warned.

She scowled. “Luca, I love my brother, but I would walk through fire for my children and you. I would never risk their safety. We’ve fought so hard to keep them a secret from our enemies. I won’t put that on the line for Fabiano or anyone.”

I wasn’t sure how much longer we could keep them a secret. They were growing older. We’d pulled back from the public for them, and I had threatened a few journalists who thought they could write something about us. Nothing had gone public. Dante had done the same and without Orazio as a spy, I didn’t know anything about his children.

I gave Aria a nod and signaled her to walk ahead. I raised my gun but stayed back. I spotted Fabiano as we turned the corner. He was leaning against the wall, looking fucking relaxed.

His eyes zeroed in on Aria but he didn’t notice me. I aimed at his head.

“Hello, Fabi,” Aria greeted him and showed him his letter. “You said you wanted to talk to me alone because you needed my help?”

He stepped closer with a look on his face that I didn’t like one fucking bit. Aria let him come much closer than we’d agreed on. The hand with his gun still hung limply at his side though.

His eyes turned to me and he smirked as he spotted me.

“Finally being sensible, Aria,” he said, and there was a flicker of something on his face I couldn’t place.

“I know a thing or two about mob life.” She tilted her head up at him. “Aren’t you worried for your life?”

“Why would I be?”

He looked like a man who had faced death on many occasions and who didn’t fear it. He had nothing to lose, and it made him a dangerous enemy.

Aria unfastened the bracelet and held it out to him. “It was Mother’s. She gave it to me shortly before her death. I want you to have it.”

“Why?” he muttered, glaring down at the bracelet, then up at Aria.

“Because I want you to remember.”

“The family that abandoned me?”

“No, the boy you used to be and the man you can still become.”

Aria was too good for this world even after years as my wife.

“Who says I want to remember?” He leaned down to Aria, his face too close to hers, and I released the safety on my Beretta.

Fabiano straightened. “You want me to be a better man. Why don’t you start with the man who’s pointing a gun at my head?”

Aria pushed the bracelet against his chest and he took it.

“Perhaps one day you’ll find someone who will love you despite what you’ve become, and she will make you want to be better.” She finally stepped away. “Goodbye, Fabiano. Luca wants you to know that next time you come to New York, you will pay with your life.”

I didn’t lower my gun as Aria headed toward me, but Fabiano made no move to follow. He was staring down at the bracelet. He reminded me of myself when I was younger, before Aria. Without her, I’d be a different man today. Perhaps I’d have become like my father.

Aria arrived at my side and I wrapped an arm around her before I led her away. I considered sending someone out to kill Fabiano but decided against it. War with the Camorra was the last thing I needed at the moment.

Aria was silent during the drive home, and she still hadn’t said anything when we stepped into our penthouse in the early morning. I gave her the time she needed to face reality. When we finally settled in bed, Aria stretched out on her back, and me on my side facing her, I broke the silence. “Will you be okay? Don’t blame yourself. Fabiano made his choices, not you.”

I was worried Aria would do something crazy for her brother again.

Her blue eyes were solemn. “I’m okay,” she said. “I am, honestly. Fabiano is a grown man. He is Enforcer of the Camorra. He isn’t the boy I knew. I can’t protect him anymore and it’s not my job. You and Marcella and Amo are my priority. You are the ones I need to take care of.”

I could tell she meant it, but deep down she’d always hope Fabiano would eventually become human again. Maybe she’d be proven right. She had softened my cruel heart; who was to say the same wouldn’t happen with Fabiano?

I stroked her cheek and her eyelids fluttered. She looked tense and tired, and yet fucking gorgeous.

“Turn around, principessa,” I ordered, and she rolled onto her stomach without protest. I knelt beside her on the bed and ran my hands over her soft skin, massaging away her tension. She let out a soft sigh, her body turning slack. My eyes trailed down her spine to her perfect ass. I squeezed the round globes, then bit down on the soft flesh lightly before I soothed the spot with my tongue. Aria trembled, and moaned softly. I kneaded her ass cheeks as I trailed open-mouthed kisses up her spine.

I brushed her hair away and nibbled on the crook of her neck lightly as my fingers dipped between her folds, finding her dripping wet. She turned her head to the side, biting her lower lip, and I entered her slowly. She moaned, eyes closing in pleasure. I watched her face as I fingered her. She arched her ass in rhythm with my thrusts, driving my fingers deeper.

When my cock was painfully hard, I moved my body over hers and slid my tip in, savoring her heat for a moment before I filled her completely. Her back arched against my chest. I propped my elbows up, caging her in and began to thrust into her slowly at first, then faster and harder. I kissed her throat, then bit down, marking her, and her walls clamped down on me as she cried out her release. I slowed my thrusts, waiting for her to catch her breath before I picked up my pace again. We had the penthouse to ourselves tonight, so I wanted to make her scream as often as possible.

I wedged my hand below her body, rubbing her clit as I slammed harder into her. Aria came again, shuddering and gasping, and when my own release gripped me, she was swept up again and came a third time.

I stayed on top of her, careful to keep off most of my weight as I kissed her neck and throat, then claimed her mouth for a kiss.

“You still mark me,” she said with a hint of amusement, rolling on to her back. “Do you really think there’s anyone out there who doesn’t know that I’m yours?”

I stroked the faint bruise on her throat. “You are mine,” I said in a low voice. “And it’s not them I’m reminding, it’s myself, because even after eleven years sometimes it still seems impossible that I have you, that I love you and that you love me.”

Aria’s fingers trailed down to my shoulder blade with the tattoo, her eyes warm and fierce. “I’ll go wherever you go no matter how dark the path.”

I grasped her wrist with the bracelet I’d given her many years ago and brought it to my lips, kissing it. “Even in the darkest hour, you are my light.”

THE END