God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

When Stefano glances at me while he removes his jacket, a weird sensation creeps over my skin.

“You embarrassed me, Gabriella,” he mutters as he drapes his jacket over the back of the chair by my dressing table.

His tone brims with anger, and it has me glancing at the door.

Suddenly, he lets out an incredulous-sounding chuckle. “You’re not even going to apologize?”

Pride has me lifting my chin, and I force myself to lock eyes with the man I’m going to marry. If I don’t stand my ground today, he’ll make my life a living hell.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, my voice sounding much stronger than I feel.

When Stefano starts to undo his belt, a wave of terror-filled pins and needles coats my skin.

Dio.

“You can’t take my virginity until we’re married,” I say as if the words will stop him.

Stefano’s mouth lifts in a smirk. “You already belong to me.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Mr. Falco hasn’t given his permission.”

“I don’t plan on fucking you right now. First, I’m going to give you the beating of your life so you don’t dare embarrass me again,” he growls. “I’ll have your virginity for dessert after dinner.”

The leather wooshes through the loops of his pants, and not thinking twice, I run for the door. I manage to yank it open just as the belt lashes over my shoulder and neck. The sting is intense, making me fall into the hallway.

I scramble to my feet, but I can’t get away before Stefano grabs hold of my hair.

I should’ve shaved it all off.

My head’s yanked back, and as his breath hits my ear, he says, “You better be the best fuck of my life tonight for all the trouble you’re causing.”

Strands are ripped from my skull as I’m pulled back, then thunder cracks through the air as Damiano snaps, “Enough!”

Stefano shoves me into the bedroom, then I hear him say, “I apologize for disturbing you, cousin. I’m dealing with the problem.”

“The problem can wait,” Damiano mutters. “Everyone back in the living room. Now!”

My entire body is trembling, but somehow, I manage to adjust my dress around my thighs and pat my hair into a neat style. My scalp stings from where I lost a chunk of hair.

After composing myself as best I can, I walk right by Stefano and follow Damiano to the living room. I struggle to keep my eyes from darting over the black fabric of Damiano’s dress shirt that stretches tightly over his muscled back.

Entering the living room, I find safety behind an armchair, and in less than a minute, my family and Stefano stare at Damiano with bated breaths.

“I’ve made my decision,” the Capo dei Capi mutters.

My breath stalls in my throat, and my heart sinks.

“Do you give your blessing, cousin?” Stefano asks.

Damiano’s eyes lock with mine, and once again, they narrow as he stares at me.

I lift my chin and clench my jaw as I hold the gaze of the man who’s killed people for the mere pleasure of feeling their blood seep through his fingers – the man who is about to condemn me to a life of hell.

His lips part, and a second later, a single word breaks the tense silence.

“No.”

“What?” Mother gasps.

“Cousin?” Stefano says, the word filled with confusion.

“Mr. Falco?” I hear my father ask.

He said no.

Air bursts from my lungs, and the relief is so intense I have to place my hand over my heart to keep it from beating out of my chest.

I won’t be forced to marry Stefano.

He won’t get to take my virginity.

My eyes drift shut from the overwhelming happiness coursing through my body, making me feel faint.

When I hear movement, my eyes snap open, and I watch as Damiano pours himself a drink.

I almost thank him for not giving his blessing, but something tells me to keep quiet.

Damiano glances at his guard. “Get the men to pack Gabriella’s belongings. We’re leaving.”

“On it,” the guard answers before he stalks away to carry out the order.

What?

Mother gasps, and my father’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

Stefano is the first to recover, and shaking his head, he dares to ask, “What are you doing?”

Damiano downs the bourbon before shoving the glass into Stefano’s hand. Without a single word of explanation, he walks out of the living room.

Everyone stands frozen for a moment before life returns with one hell of a bang.

Mother rushes to me, a smile spreading over her face. “I can’t believe the Capo dei Capi has taken an interest in you.”

What?

It’s the only question that keeps playing on an endless loop in my frazzled mind.

“Holy shit,” Santo breathes, shaking his head in disbelief.

Looking confused, my father asks, “Mr. Falco is taking Gabriella?”

“Damiano!” Stefano shouts, going after his cousin. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Mother once again grabs my wrist, and I’m dragged out of the living room. As we rush through the foyer and up the stairs, I hear Damiano’s voice rumble like fire and brimstone as he says, “I’m taking the woman. It’s not open for discussion. Find someone else to marry.”

Holy crap.

Damiano is a million times worse than Stefano. There’s no telling what he’ll do to me.

Before I can hear more of the conversation between Damiano and Stefano, I’m pulled into my bedroom, and seconds later, five men come into my private space and roughly start throwing my belongings into bags.

I can’t think a single coherent thought as Mother thrusts an outfit into my hands before shoving me into the bathroom.

“Get changed. Hurry,” she orders before yanking the door shut.

I hear my bedroom being torn apart while I stare at the doorknob.

This isn’t happening.

“Hurry, Gabriella, or I’ll come in and dress you myself,” Mother threatens.

In a stunned daze, I start to undress and quickly put on the light pink pantsuit. The pants are three-quarter in length and look good with the black five-inch heels.

Mother forgot to grab a blouse, but I shrug on the jacket and fasten the two buttons. A sliver of black lace from my bra is visible.

Taking a moment for myself, I wash my hands and pull a brush through my hair before I open the cupboards to dig out toiletry bags. I quickly pack my perfume, toiletries, and bath and skincare products.

I can’t believe I’m leaving with Damiano Falco. I have no idea what it means for my future, and it terrifies the hell out of me.

But I hurry because I don’t dare keep the man waiting.

If I take too long, he might just kill me for wasting his time.

Dio.

My fear multiplies by the second as I realize I’ll be at the mercy of the Capo dei Capi of the Cosa Nostra. I’m leaving my life in Sicily behind to start a new one in New York. Everything will be foreign and dangerous.

The bathroom door slams open, and when Mother sees I’m busy packing, she comes to help.

When I walk into my bedroom it looks like a tornado swept through it, the drawers and closets standing open.

The guard that’s been at Mr. Falco’s side since they arrived holds a bag open and orders, “Throw your toiletries in here.”

I do as I’m told.

“Is there anything we missed that you’d like to bring?”

I quickly check all the drawers, the closet, and the bathroom, shocked at how quickly my life’s been packed up.

When I shake my head Mother holds out a black pouch to me. “This contains your personal documents. Don’t lose it.”

“I’ll take it,” the guard says, swiping the pouch from Mother’s hand.

When she grabs hold of my wrist again, the guard says, “Miss di Bella will come with me.”

Holy shit. In a matter of minutes my family no longer have any authority over me.

I pull free from my mother’s hold, and not even sparing her a glance, I follow the guard out of the bedroom where I’ve spent most of my time.

Crap, this is really happening.

My dire circumstances really start to sink in as I take the staircase down to the foyer and walk with the guard toward the front door.

“Let us know when you land in New York,” Mother calls out.

I’m too worried about my own survival to pay her any attention.

As I step out of the house, it’s to see Santo and my father standing near an SUV with blacked-out windows.

Father hurries closer to me. “Find out what he wants with you and let me know,” he orders.

The guard takes hold of my arm, his touch not biting like I’m used to, then my eyes widen as he pushes Father out of my way.

The guard opens the back door to the SUV and nods toward the backseat for me to climb inside.

“Mr. Falco,” Father says, hoping to get the Capo dei Capi’s attention as I slide into the backseat. “Why are you taking Gabriella?”

Damiano is busy typing something on his phone and doesn’t even bother acknowledging my father’s question.

The guard shuts the door, and I can only suck in desperate breaths when I find myself alone with Damiano.

Luckily, his attention remains on the device in his hands.

I dare to slowly turn my head to glance at the imposing man beside me. The expensive fabric of his pants clings to his muscled thighs, and for a moment, I notice the way-too-big bulge behind his zipper before I quickly turn my head away.

Caro Dio.

I suck in another desperate breath as my eyes land on my family.

I don’t feel any heartache when the guard climbs behind the steering wheel and starts the engine. When the SUV begins to move, my eyes dart over the house.

I haven’t known any love and never felt safe between those walls.

My eyes lower to my hands, and seeing the red marks on my arms and around my wrist, I brush my fingers lightly over them.

What will become of me?