Bound By Temptation (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 4)

Liliana

I still cringed when I thought about my first embarrassing attempt at flirting with Romero. Mother and my sister Aria had always warned me not to provoke men, and I’d never been as daring with anyone as I’d been with Romero that day. He’d seemed safe, like there was no way he could possibly hurt me no matter the provocation. I’d been young and stupid, only fourteen and already convinced I knew everything there was to know about men and love and everything else.

It had been only a few days before Aria’s wedding to Luca and he’d sent Romero to protect my sister. It was a big deal to choose a bodyguard for your future wife; only someone who was deserving of your absolute trust could be allowed that close, but that knowledge wasn’t even why I trusted Romero.

Romero had looked terribly handsome in his white shirt, black slacks and vest that hid his gun holster. And for some reason, his brown eyes had looked kinder than what I was used to from men in our world. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him. I wasn’t sure what I’d been thinking, or what I’d expected to achieve, but the moment Romero sat down, I’d settled in his lap. He’d tensed under me, but something in his eyes had made me fall for him that day. Often in the past, when I’d flirted with my father’s soldiers, I’d seen in their eyes that they wouldn’t hesitate to have their way with me if it wasn’t for my father. But with Romero I knew I would never have to worry that he’d take more than what I was willing to give. At least, that’s how it had felt that day. He’d seemed like a good guy, like the guys I ever only got to admire from afar because you couldn’t find them in the mafia. Like a knight in shining armor, someone dreams of silly girls were made of – girls like me.

Only a few months later, I found out that Romero wasn’t who I thought he was, who I wanted him to be and had made him out to be. That day still haunts me after all this time. It could have been the moment that my crush on Romero disappeared for good.

My parents had taken Gianna, Fabiano and me to New York with them to attend Salvatore Vitiello’s funeral, even though I didn’t know Luca’s and Matteo’s father. I’d been so very excited to see Aria again. But that trip turned into a nightmare, my first real taste of what it meant to be part of our world.

After the Russians attacked the Vitiello mansion, I was alone with my brother Fabi in a room where Romero had taken us after the Famiglia under Luca’s lead had come to our rescue. Someone had given my brother a tranquilizer because he’d completely lost it after he’d seen our bodyguard getting shot in the head. I was oddly calm, almost in trance as I huddled beside him on the bed, staring at nothing and listening for noises. Every time someone walked past our room, I tensed, prepared for another attack. But then Gianna texted, asking me where I was. I’d never moved as fast in my life. It took me less than two seconds to jump off the bed, cross the room and rip the door open. Gianna stood in the corridor, her red hair all over the place. The moment I jumped into her arms, I felt better and safer. Since Aria had moved, Gianna had taken over the role as substitute mother while our own mother was busy taking care of her social responsibilities and catering to Father’s every whim.

When Gianna decided to look around downstairs, panic overcame me. I didn’t want to be alone right now, and Fabi really wasn’t going to wake for another couple of hours, so despite my fear of what we’d find on the first floor, I followed my sister. Most of the furniture in the living room was ruined from the fight with the Russians and blood covered almost every surface. I’d never been very queasy about blood, or anything really. Fabi had always come to me to show me his wounds, especially when there was pus because he hadn’t properly cleaned them. And even now, as we strolled past all the red on the white carpets and sofas, it wasn’t the blood itself that made my stomach turn. It was the memory of the events. I couldn’t even smell blood anymore because the floors had been cleaned with some kind of disinfectant. I was glad when Gianna headed for another part of the house but then I heard the first scream from the basement. I would have turned on my heel and pretended there was nothing. Not Gianna though.

She opened the steel door, which led to a room below the surface. The staircase was dark but from somewhere in the depth of the basement light spilled out. I shivered. “You don’t want to go down there, right?” I whispered. I should have known the answer. This was Gianna.

“Yes, but you will stay on the stairs,” Gianna said before she started her descent. I hesitated only a second before I went after her. Nobody had ever said I was good at following orders.

Gianna glared. “Stay there. Promise me.”

I wanted to argue. I wasn’t a little kid anymore. But then someone cried out below us, and the hairs in the back of my neck rose. “Okay. I promise,” I said quickly. Gianna turned and moved down the remaining steps. She froze when she reached the last step before she finally stepped into the basement. I could only see part of her back but from the way her muscles tensed I knew she was upset. There was a muffled cry and Gianna flinched. Despite the fear pounding in my temples, I crept downstairs. I needed to know what my sister saw. She wasn’t someone who freaked out easily.

Even as I did I knew I’d regret it, but I couldn’t resist. I was tired of being left out of everything, of always being too young, of being reminded every day that I needed protection from myself and everything around me.

The moment my feet hit the basement floor, my eyes settled on the center of the room. At first, I couldn’t even comprehend what was going on. It was as if my brain was giving me a chance to leave and be none the wiser, but instead of rushing off, I stayed and stared. My mind went into overdrive, soaking in every detail, every gruesome detail before me. Details I still remembered vividly years later.

There were two of the Russians who’d attacked us, tied to chairs, and then there was blood. Matteo and another man were beating and cutting them, hurting them. My vision tunneled, and terror rose up my throat. And then my gaze settled on Romero, his kind brown eyes, which weren’t as kind as I remembered them. His hands, too, were covered in blood. The good guy and knight in shining armor I’d fantasized about, that guy he wasn’t. A scream ripped from my body, but I could only tell because of the pressure in my chest and throat. I didn’t hear anything beyond the rushing in my ears. Everyone stared at me like I was the crazy one. I wasn’t sure what happened after that. I remembered fragments. Hands grasping me, arms holding tight. Soothing words that did nothing. I remembered a warm chest against my back and the smell of blood. There was a brief burning pain when Matteo injected me with something before my world transformed into eerie calm. The terror was still there, but it was blanketed. My vision was blurry but I could make out Romero kneeling beside me. He picked me up and straightened with me in his arms. The forced calm won out and I relaxed against his chest. Right in front of my eyes a red blotch disfigured his white shirt. Blood from the men that had been tortured. Sluggishly, terror tried to rip through the medication, but it was futile and I gave up the fight. My eyes fluttered shut as I resigned myself to my fate.

***

Romero

As Made Men it was our task to keep those safe that we were sworn to protect: the weak, children, women. I, in particular, had devoted my life to this goal. Many tasks in my job involved hurting others, being brutal and cold, but keeping people safe always made me feel like there was more to me than the bad. Not that it mattered; if Luca asked me, I’d do every bad thing imaginable. It was easy to forget that despite our own ethics and morals and codes, we Made Men were what most people perceived as evil. I was reminded of our real nature, of my real nature when I heard Liliana’s scream. The screams of the Russians hadn’t moved me. I’d heard those, and worse, before. But that high-pitched, not-ending scream of a girl we were meant to protect was like a fucking stab in the gut.

Her expression and eyes were the worst; they showed me exactly what I was. Maybe a good man would have sworn to be better, but I was good at my job. Most days I enjoyed it. Even the terror-stricken face of Liliana didn’t make me want to be something other than a Made Man. Back then I hadn’t realized that this glimpse of brutality wasn’t even the worst way I would fuck up her life.

***

Liliana

I woke to something warm and soft below my body. My mind was sluggish but the memories were clear and focused, more focused than my surroundings when I finally dared to open my eyes. Movement in the corner attracted my attention. Romero leaned against the wall across from me. I quickly did a check of the room I was in. It was a guest bedroom, and I was alone with Romero behind a closed door. Without the lingering effects of whatever Matteo had injected me earlier, I would have started screaming again. Instead I watched mutely as Romero walked toward me. I wasn’t sure why I’d ever thought of him as harmless, now his every move screamed danger. When he’d almost reached the bed, I cringed, pressing myself against the pillow. Romero paused, dark eyes softening, but their kindness couldn’t fool me anymore, not after what I’d seen. “It’s okay. You are safe.”

I’d never felt not safe in my life – until now. I wanted my blissful ignorance back. I didn’t say anything.

Romero took a glass of water from the nightstand and held it out to me. My eyes searched the skin of his hands for blood but he must have cleaned them thoroughly. There wasn’t the slightest hint of red, not even between his fingers or under his nails. He probably had a lot of practice cleaning up blood. Bile crept up my throat at the thought.

“You need to drink, kiddo.”

My eyes flew up to his face. “I’m not a kid.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Romero’s face. “Of course not, Liliana.”

I searched his eyes for mockery, for a hint of the darkness that had been there in the basement, but he looked like the good guy I wanted him to be. I sat up and took the glass from him. My hand shook but I managed not to spill water on myself. After two sips I handed the glass back to Romero.

“You can go to your sisters soon, but first Luca wants to have a word with you about what you saw today,” he said calmly.

Fear speared me like a cold blade. I slid out of the bed when someone knocked, and Luca entered a moment later. He closed the door. My eyes darted from him to Romero. I didn’t want to break down like I had before, but I could feel another panic attack pushing through the drugs in my bloodstream. I’d never been alone with them, and after today’s events, it was too much.

“Nobody will hurt you,” Luca said in his deep voice. I tried to believe him. Aria seemed to love him, so he couldn’t be bad, and he hadn’t been down in the basement torturing Russians. I risked another look at Romero, whose eyes rested on me.

I lowered my face. “I know,” I said eventually, which probably sounded as much a lie as it felt. I took a deep breath and leveled my gaze on Luca’s chin. “You wanted to talk to me?”

Luca nodded. He didn’t come closer, nor did Romero. Maybe my fear was plain as day to them. “You can’t tell Aria about what you saw today. She’ll be upset.”

“I won’t tell her,” I promised quickly. I’d never intended to talk to her. I didn’t want to remember the events, much less to tell anyone about them. If I could, I’d wipe my memory clean of them instantly.

Luca and Romero exchanged a look, then Luca opened the door. “You’re much more reasonable than your sister Gianna. You remind me of Aria.”

Somehow his words made me feel like a coward. Not because Aria was. She was brave and so was Gianna, both in their own ways. I felt like a coward because I agreed to keep my silence for selfish reasons, because I wanted to forget, and not because I wanted to protect Aria from the truth. I was pretty sure she could have handled it better than I did.

“You can take her to Gianna, but make sure they don’t walk around the house again,” he said to Romero.

“What about Aria?” I blurted.

Luca tensed. “She’s asleep. You can see her later.” With that he left.

I wrapped my arms around my waist. “Do my parents know what happened?”

“Yes. Your father will pick you up once he’s done with business and then take you back to Chicago. Probably in the morning.” Romero waited but I didn’t move. For some reason my body bristled at the idea of going closer to him, which was ridiculous considering that not too long ago I’d fantasized about kissing him.

He opened the door wide and stepped back. “I’m sure your sister Gianna is eager to see you.”

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to walk in his direction. His body was relaxed and his face kind, and despite the terror and fear still simmering deep in my body, my stomach fluttered lightly as I brushed past him. Maybe it was shock. I couldn’t possibly have a crush on him after today.