God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

Standing out on the veranda with my eyes roaming over the backyard and guards, I don’t glance behind me when I hear movement.

I recognize my mother’s steps, and bracing myself for a million questions, I turn to face her.

She takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs, then says, “Greta says the girl is beautiful.”

I move closer and sit down on one of the chairs. With my gaze resting on my mother, I mutter, “Aunt Greta is right.”

“Did you take Gabriella for yourself?” she asks, getting right to the point.

“No.” I glance at the open French doors before saying, “I’m going to arrange a marriage between Dario and Gabriella.”

“Oh.” Mamma’s eyebrow flies up. “He’s such a sweet boy. He’ll be good to her.”

“She better be good to him,” I mutter.

“Always so protective,” Mamma chuckles.

“Don’t tell her. I need to talk with Dario before she’s informed of the arranged marriage.”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly, then asks, “Is Stefano very upset that you took his fiancée?”

“Probably.”

My gaze drifts over my mother’s face before they lock on the blank stare in her eyes.

She lost her sight the night I killed my father. It’s been nineteen years, and I still remember every second of that night.

My mother’s cries as he beat her.

The kick against her head that put her in a coma for three weeks.

Her blood soaking into the wooden floorboards.

I lost my mind and beat my father to death with my bare fists. He was unrecognizable by the time I was done.

It changed my entire life, and I became the head of the Cosa Nostra at nineteen.

At the time, Carlo’s mother was our housekeeper, and having grown up with Carlo, he was the only man I trusted. We moved our mothers into this mansion where a small army guards them twenty-four-seven.

Carlo’s been by my side as I built my empire. The only other person I consider a close friend is Angelo, one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra.

I care about Franco, Renzo, and Dario, but I just clicked better with Angelo. He understands me.

“What are you thinking about?” Mamma asks.

“Everything,” I whisper.

She stands up and holds her hand out to me. I take it and guide her to me before resting my head against her stomach. I close my eyes when she brushes her hand over my hair.

“You have too much resting on your shoulders,” she murmurs. “I worry about you.”

“I’m okay,” I assure her. “Don’t worry about me.”

“To others, you are the Capo dei Capi, but to me, you’ll always be my baby boy. I’ll always worry about you.”

The corner of my mouth lifts, and climbing to my feet, I lean down so I can wrap her in a tight hug against my chest. “Ti voglio bene, Mamma.”

“I love you more, mio figlio.”

Carlo steps out onto the veranda, asking, “Ready?”

I nod as I pull away from my mother, then say, “I’m leaving for Manhattan. I’ll try to be home for the weekend.”

“Okay.” She pats my arm. “Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I walk with Carlo in the direction of the helipad.

Sitting in my private lounge that overlooks the entire club, I listen as Emilio and Vito give me updates regarding the construction projects and clubs.

“The unions haven’t given any problems,” Emilio says.

I nod. “That’s good.”

“Some fucker is planning to build a skyscraper near the hotel. It will obstruct the view of the Hudson River.”

Letting out a sigh, I mutter, “Change their mind about building on the site and have them sell it to us.”

My men are well-trained and will use any force necessary to get the job done.

It was one of the hardest things I had to learn – trusting my men to do their jobs and not just doing everything myself.

When they get up and Vito walks with a slight limp, it reminds me of when Angelo shot him in the foot for hurting Vittoria.

“Vito, how’s the foot?” I ask.

“Gonna take a painkiller now, boss. Nothing to worry about.”

I nod before picking up my phone. Bringing up the group chat with the other four heads of the Cosa Nostra, I start a video call.

When all their faces fill the screen, I say, “There’s a meeting at my club tomorrow morning at nine. Don’t be late.”

“You could’ve sent a text,” Franco mutters before yawning.

The man has triplets at home, so I let it slide.

“The babies keeping you up?” Angelo asks.

“Yeah. You know the drill,” Franco chuckles.

Angelo and Vittoria are expecting their second child.

The family is growing, putting more pressure on my shoulders to keep everyone safe.

“See you all tomorrow,” I say before ending the call.

“What’s wrong?” Carlo asks.

“Nothing.”

He pours me a tumbler of whiskey from my private selection. Handing me the drink, he lifts an eyebrow at me.

“They’re all falling one by one and starting families,” I mutter.

“Why is that a problem?”

“Just more people to protect.”

“They have their own guards,” Carlo says as he stands in front of the one-way glass overlooking the club’s interior, and his gaze slowly sweeps over all the people.

“Not Dario. The fucker is stubborn and careless.” I take a sip, letting the alcohol burn down my throat. “Remind me to talk to him about it.”

“Will do.”

While I enjoy the whiskey, my thoughts turn to Gabriella. When she walked into the dining room, it was hard not to stare. I’ll never admit it out loud, but I love the way she dresses.

Christ. I need to get laid.

I can’t remember when I was last with a woman.

Six months?

Frowning, I glance at Carlo. “When’s the last time I got laid?”

“Fuck.” He shakes his head. “The blonde?”

“What blonde?”

He lets out a chuckle. “Let’s just say it’s been a while.”

Should I be worried that I haven’t needed a woman’s company in months?

Suddenly, the memory of Gabriella ducking against my side when the private jet landed pops into my mind, and I almost let out a growl.

The fuck, no.

Getting up, I stalk out of the lounge to get away from the unwelcome memory.

“Where are we going?” Carlo asks when he falls into step beside me.

“The penthouse.”

I need solitude so I can recharge after being among people for the past two days.

When we climb into the SUV, Carlo asks, “Want me to order something for dinner?”

“Sure.”

I glance out the window, and once again, Gabriella pops into my mind.

Last night in the helicopter, when she gripped my thigh, sent an unwanted burst of attraction through me.

A frown forms on my forehead, and as I wipe my fingers over my lips, I forcefully shove the woman out of my thoughts.

The moment Carlo brings the SUV to a stop in the underground parking, I shove the door open and climb out. My eyes roam over the area, and seeing all my guards at their posts, I walk to the elevator.

On the way up to the top floor, Carlo says, “I’ll order steak.”

“Okay.”

The doors open, and I stalk into the penthouse. Loosening the tie from around my neck, I head to the bedroom while saying, “I’m going to shower. Let me know when the food is here.”

“Will do.”

Stepping into the bathroom, I switch on the faucets before getting undressed. Soon, the bathroom is filled with steam, and as I climb into the shower, the warm water pelts my body.

My thoughts return to Gabriella, and I let out a sigh. Once I’ve arranged the marriage between her and Dario, I’ll have to start thinking about myself. I need an heir, and I’m not getting any younger.

But who?

Fuck, it doesn’t really matter. As long as the woman is able to bear children, I’m good.

I let out a sigh as I start to wash my body.

The last thing I’m looking forward to is getting married. My time is limited, and having another person to care for will only add to my exhaustion.

It’s not something to worry about right now.

I just have to focus on getting Miguel and his men out of New York. After the problem’s taken care of and Dario is engaged to Gabriella, I’ll revisit the idea of finding a wife for myself.