His to Own (Mafia Kingpins Book 1)

It seems like every time I have to leave, it gets harder and harder because all I want to do is spend time with Alessia. The more I get to know about my wife, the more time I want to spend with her…

What is happening with me? I wonder.

Swallowing back the surge of feelings threatening to overflow and the very real truth that I’m falling for her, I return my full attention to the meeting at hand. As usual, everyone is arguing and I’m getting damn tired of it. Keeping peace among the Five Families is almost an impossible feat and I feel like I’m the sucker who’s been charged with the monumental and very annoying task.

“Stop,” I say without much force. Of course, Rocco keeps bitching at Caparelli and I grind my back molars. “Enough!” I yell and everyone finally shuts up.

“For God’s sake, can’t we have a rational conversation without it escalating to World War 3?” Milano asks.

“Apparently not,” I answer, my voice dry as I level my unblinking stare on Rocco. He’s always the one instigating these fights and he’s really starting to piss me off. To the point where I’m not going to be able to hold back much longer. The asshole is going to get a beatdown from my fists.

“Things need to change,” Rocco insists. “I’m tired of living according to what our great grandfathers decided way too many years ago.”

“What’re you saying?” I ask, my eyes narrowing in annoyance and disapproval. Christ, all I want to do is pound this asshole into the ground. “We throw out the truce? Enter into a full-on turf war with each other?”

“That’s not smart for business,” DeLuca comments.

“No, it’s not,” I instantly agree.

Rocco glares at me. “All I’m saying is times have changed. This isn’t nineteen-fucking-twenty any longer. So, either get with the program or get out of the way.”

This all boils down to the East side and how Rocco and the Bianche family want control over the illegal businesses there. But, Milano handles all aspects of that neighborhood.

Trying to ignore the headache pounding to life, I get up, shoving my chair back, and stalk over to the large, yellowed map hanging on the wall. One that was pinned up there so long ago by our ancestors, the edges are frayed and it’s torn in several places.

“In case you’ve forgotten, Bianche, this is your area of the city.” I stab my finger on the Northwest corner of town. “If you try to take over outside of your designated area, we’re going to have a big fucking problem. You hear me?”

Rocco must be feeling ballsy today because he also shoves up out of his seat and stomps over to the map.

“That’s no longer enough area for my family,” he argues. “We want to expand and we can handle the narcotics side much better than the Milano’s. They’re doing a shit job.”

“Fuck you,” Milano snaps.

“Not an option,” I say simply without giving a reason and this seems to infuriate Rocco all the more.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Rossi? Why do you get to call all the shots?”

Suppressing a sigh, I look over at the men sitting at the round table. And the very reason it’s round is because there is no head man in charge. No one is sitting at the head of the table because there purposely isn’t one. We’re all supposed to be equals with a fair share in this city.

“This is a democracy,” I say, striving to remain calm. But, damn, Rocco is testing me. Stretching my patience to the absolute limits. “If you want something to change then we need to vote.”

Rocco rolls his eyes and crosses his arms because he knows he has already lost. No one wants to give up one block of their territory.

“Milano, do you have anything else to add?” I ask, looking directly at Dominic Milano whose family is in charge of that section of town.

“We can handle it like we always have,” he states firmly.

I nod then lay the vote on the table, anyway. Just to further incite a potential riot with Rocco. I’m hoping this will be a clean sweep and shut him up. Or, make his head explode in fury. I’d like to see that actually, I think with an inward chuckle. “All in favor of extending any of the Eastern neighborhoods to the Bianche family?”

No one raises their hand or voices a yay. Instead, a chorus of nay’s fill the air. With a smug smirk, I cross my arms and level a look at Bianche.

“There you have it. Your family’s control will remain right where it is.”

“It’s not enough!” he roars. “We’re being cheated and it’s only fair to give us more. You all know it!”

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Aldo DeLuca says, trying to deescalate the situation.

“Yeah, Bianche, take a fucking seat.” I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I can’t. Images of Alessia fill my head and it makes me physically ill to think this snake almost got ahold of her. My sweet, innocent, sassy woman.

“You think I take orders from you?” Rocco turns and spits on the floor. “Think again, stronzo.”

Gritting my teeth, I lower my hands and clench my fists. This is not going to end well. I already know it.

“You’re a fucking thief, Rossi,” Rocco continues, “and you just keep stealing from us all.”

My blood pressure skyrockets, nostrils flaring, at what he’s inferring. “I haven’t stolen anything,” I growl.

“You think you’re in charge and can call all the shots and keep the best territory for your family. You think we all haven’t noticed?”

“I didn’t take anything. It’s not my fault that my family ended up with the neighborhoods we did. But, it is my fault that I’ve managed to make all of their businesses prosper and grow into so much more than they ever were. Because unlike you, I work hard and don’t just run around like a little weasel looking for handouts and to prosper off other people’s hard work.”

“You take what doesn’t belong to you. What never belonged to you,” he insists.

Of course, I see exactly where this is going. He’s talking about Alessia and how he lost her. Well, you know what? Too fucking bad. “You got something to say?” I take a threatening step closer.

“Alessia was mine and you stole her! You kidnapped her and forced her to marry you. That woman was promised to me!”

“You sound like such a whiny, little bitch. Alessia is mine. She was never yours.”

“Yes, she was!”

Before I can say another word, Rocco launches himself into me. We both go flying backwards and hit the floor with an oomph. Wrestling around, I manage to get a few good hits in, but I also take a few, too. The man is completely unhinged which seems to be making him utterly reckless and much stronger than he usually is.

“Stop! Break it up, you two!”

But, we ignore Caparelli and the others and keep throwing punches. Rocco’s knuckles make contact with my temple really fucking hard and his ring cuts deep, slicing the skin there. Jerking back, blood drips down the side of my head as I knee him in the side so hard he yells an obscenity.

Two sets of arms grab me and pull me back. At the same time, someone grabs Rocco, too, forcing us to break up our little fight. Breathing hard, blood oozing from my head and sliding into my eye, I yank free of the older men holding me and give my suit jacket a shake.

“How fucking dare you lay hands on me,” I say, my voice low. A deadly whisper.

Panting and completely winded, Rocco pulls against Milano who is still restraining him. He looks feral with a wild, almost demented look in his dark eyes. “You shouldn’t be in charge. You’re going to destroy everything.”

Struggling not to roll my eyes, I chalk his whiny words up to jealousy. He’s pissed because I have Alessia and my businesses are all doing better than his. As they well should be since I work my ass off while he likes to hit the whore houses and party it up nearly every night.

“You should just go back to Sicily,” he continues. “Go pick grapes at your parents’ vineyard.”

“Do you think I give a rat’s ass what a piece of shit like you thinks?” I ask calmly.

“Miceli…” I feel Caparelli place a hand on my shoulder.

After straightening my tie, I swipe the blood away that’s stinging my eye and whip it onto the floor. “You listen to me, Bianche—stay away from Alessia and her sister.”

“Maybe Alessia wants me,” he goads, shrugging off Milano’s grip. “Did it ever occur to you that she never chose you? That she’d much rather have my dick sliding into her wet cunt every night?”

A fury like I’ve never felt before erupts within me and a red haze settles over my vision right before I pull the gun I’m not supposed to bring into this room. Ever. At nearly the same time, every single man, including Rocco, also pulls a pistol.

So much for following the rules of no weapons allowed in the meeting room.

We each aim our guns at each other and it’s like a damn Mexican standoff. Steady fingers hover on triggers and faces are grim. No one appears willing to back down, either. I have no idea how this is going to end. I guess probably not well.

“I’m glad to see we’ve all ignored the no weapons rule,” Caparelli comments dryly.

“Fuck off,” Milano says. “We all know you’ve been bringing a gun into these meetings for the past year.”

As the tension escalates, I know I need to put a stop to this before everyone starts shooting and we all kill each other.

“Gentlemen, I’m sorry for dragging you into a personal issue.” My voice resonates with calm, steely confidence. “I suggest we all put our weapons away and resume conversations later after we’ve all had time to cool off.”

“Agreed,” DeLuca says, backing me up.

Very slowly, I lower my gun and tuck it back under my jacket, returning it in my waistband. We’re going to need to put up metal detectors to keep this shit from happening again because right now…

Right now, no one trusts anyone. And that’s a precarious spot to be in with a group of people fighting to control the city.

Rocco is the last man to lower his pistol and he glares at me as he does so. “You think you won, don’t you?” he asks. Before I can respond, he continues, “You haven’t won shit, Rossi. In fact, if I have anything to say about it, you’re going to lose everything.”

“Really?” I drawl, refusing to let him rile me up again, smoothing my hands down the front of my suit. I refuse to show an ounce of fear or even concern at his idle threats. Because that’s all they are and I don’t take him seriously. He just likes to puff his chest out and play big man on campus. But, the truth is Rocco Bianche will never amount to anything more than a woman-killing, whoring, lazy piece of shit.

I’m tempted to tell him exactly what I’m thinking when he dares to take a step closer. Pointing a finger at me, he hisses, “Mark my words, you’re going to regret what you did. Because I’m going to make sure you pay.”

I roll my eyes. “Fuck off, Bianche,” I tell him, keeping my voice level and bored-sounding. I’m tired of dealing with this clown and he needs to be taught a lesson about respect if he thinks he’s still going to sit at this table with the other families. Because right now, I’m planning to do everything in my power to see that he’s permanently removed. There are other far more competent people in his family who can step up and take over.

He nods slowly, a twisted smile cracking his face. “You’ll see.” Then he storms out, his bodyguard following on his heels.

Once Bianche is gone, my shoulders slump slightly and the tension I’ve been holding onto releases a bit.

“You better watch your back, Rossi,” Caparelli advises and the others nod.

“You think I’m scared of that sack of shit?” My face screws up and I make a scoffing sound.

“No…but maybe you should be.”

“Don’t take his threat lightly,” Milano states. “He’s gone off the deep end and is out for blood.”

“Your blood,” Caparelli comments.

Because I took Alessia, I think, but I don’t say another word. That must be the reason, but this meeting is over and I’m done talking. With a sharp nod, I walk out.