Waiting for my Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance Read online

  Looking up, I watch a woman, probably in her sixties, enter the room. Her chin is high and the grace in her stride would rival that of any queen. If she’s whom I believe she is, then this woman should walk with the grace of a queen. Because she once was a queen.

  “Caterina,” my father says.

  Caterina Bellini, widow of the brilliant Franco Bellini, a mid-century legend among the New York Mafia five families. He was a pioneer in criminal organization. People are still trying to mimic what he had the foresight to create decades ago.

  “Marco,” she counters.

  “I hope you’re well.”

  “As well as I can be considering that the entire Franco Bellini male line has been wiped out.”

  “I’m sorry. I know that it must have been difficult for you to lose all of your sons and grandsons.”

  “Difficult?” she mutters. A few heartbeats pass and she continues, “Until you’ve experienced a loss like ours, you can’t imagine the difficulty.”

  Sofia toys with the ring on her finger, spinning it round and round. “You haven’t come to deliver condolences, so let’s get on with why you’re here, shall we?”

  Direct. I like it, so I’ll be direct in return. “I’ve come for my betrothed.”

  Sofia’s head tilts and her lower jaw tenses. “I’m afraid your trip has been a wasted one, young man. There is no bride here for you.”

  “Emilia was promised to me twenty years ago. An agreement was made between the elders. She was to be mine when she turned eighteen, but we graciously gave her three extra years at home to prepare for her role as my wife. I’m done waiting.”

  “It is well known that Alessandro compensated you greatly for dissolving the betrothal. He was more than generous.”

  “Oh, I think I understand what this is about. This greedy little bastard doesn’t intend on settling for a few assets when Emilia stands to inherit the largest portion of the Bellini empire. Am I right?” Caterina Bellini says.

  Sofia looks at her mother-in-law and then back at me. “I thought you murdered my family because you felt slighted and insulted over the broken betrothal, but that’s not it at all. You want Emilia’s inheritance.”

  “Of course, I want it.”

  “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to give you my daughter after you murdered my husband and son.”

  “I wiped out the male half of your family within a matter of minutes. Do you really think I’d ask you for anything?”

  Sofia looks at me, saying nothing.

  “I’m taking Emilia, and you’re going to sign over all of the Bellini assets. Immediately.”

  “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever do that.”

  “You will do it. Because if you don’t, the Bellini women will meet the same fate as the Bellini men.”

  “How will we live if you take everything from us?” Sofia says.

  “You will be my wife’s family. I will provide for you financially, and of course, all of you will come under my protection.”

  Caterina laughs. “You’ll use our family’s money to provide for us. How very generous of you.”

  I resist the urge to tell her that I could take everything and leave her family to fend for themselves.

  “I want to see my bride. Call her to come down and meet me.”

  “Emilia isn’t here.”

  Of course, Sofia is going to say that. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying. She isn’t here.”

  “Where is she?”

  “The cemetery. She sits by Nicolò’s grave every day. She’ll be gone for hours.”

  Nicolò Moretti. I despise his name upon my ears. But I take solace in knowing that in the end, I won and he lost.

  I hope that Nicolò is enjoying the view from his dirt room. And if by chance he’s watching over his beloved Emilia, I’m going to give him a real show when I fuck her until she screams and begs for the mercy and forgiveness that she doesn’t deserve.

  “Deliver Emilia to my father’s house on Friday night.”

  “For an initial meeting?”

  Sofia already knows the answer to that question; otherwise, she wouldn’t be asking.

  “No. You’ll be leaving her with me permanently.”

  “But you aren’t married. It wouldn’t be suitable to leave her with you.”

  “Bring her to me. Because if I have to return for her, you won’t enjoy the way things go.”

  5

  Emilia Bellini

  They say time heals all wounds, but whomever came up with that couldn’t be more wrong. I’m wounded to my core by the damage done to my heart. It’s shattered and will never heal. Nothing will ever erase these scars on my soul.

  I am so broken that I have become unbreakable.

  “Emilia,” my mother calls out when I enter the house.

  “Yes, Mamma?”

  “Come into the living room please.”

  My family, or at least what’s left of it, is gathered there. And I instantly get the feeling that Mamma, Nonna, and my sisters aren’t together in one room because they want to socialize. They’ve assembled for a reason.

  “Did someone call a family meeting?”

  Nonna pats the sofa next to her. “Come and sit. We have much to discuss.”

  Everything about my grandmother’s words, tone, and expression is troublesome.

  “What has happened?”

  “We had a visit from Marco and Luca Rossini today.”

  The thought of those snakes being inside our home makes me cringe.

  “Did they come alone?”

  “Yes.”

  No soldiers? They must think we’re really weak.

  “Did they take responsibility for the massacre?”

  “Yes.”

  We already knew the Rossinis were responsible for it, but hearing the affirmation is a fresh tear in the wound of my heart. It confirms what I feared most—that all of this is my fault. The Rossinis butchered innocent people because of me. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t tried to change the rules of the game.

  “Did they come to gloat?”

  My mother sighs. “Gloating would have been preferable to the reason those bastards came.”

  That doesn’t sound good. “Well, go on. Let’s hear it.”

  My grandmother nods. “Tell her.”

  My mother isn’t one for beating around the bush, so I’m baffled by how long it’s taking her to say the words.

  “Luca still considers you his betrothed.”

  What?

  How?

  “Papà ended my betrothal to Luca when he transferred sole ownership of the three assets to the Rossinis. Everyone in the five families knows that. Everyone.”

  “He has never stopped thinking of you as his betrothed.”

  What is he? Stupid?

  “My God! I was going to marry another man. What part of that doesn’t scream broken betrothal?”

  “He’s ordering us to hand you over to him.”

  Ordering? Who the hell is he to order anything where I’m concerned?

  “We can’t give Emilia to those terrible people,” Gemma says.

  “He’s insane if he thinks I’d ever marry him after he killed my family and the man I love.” It’s ridiculous to think I’d even consider it.

  “He isn’t proposing marriage, Emilia. He’s demanding it, and he’s quite serious about it.”

  Quite serious means he made threats.

  “What happens if you don’t hand me over? If I don’t marry him?”

  Mamma looks at each of us, ending with me. “He says the Bellini women will meet the same fate as the Bellini men.”

  He’s threatening to kill us.

  How is this possible? We were the most powerful family out of the five, and now we’ve been reduced to doing as the Rossinis bid?

  “Marriage isn’t his only demand. He wants all Bellini holdings transferred over to them immediately.”

  “That’s insane.”


  “Nonna and I made phone calls today pleading for aid. The other families want to help us, but no one is willing to go head-to-head with the Rossinis after the massacre.”

  Because they’re cowards. All of them.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day that the Bellinis were at anyone’s mercy, but that is what we have come to.” Nonna sounds so defeated. I’ve never known her to act this way. She’s usually such a fighter.

  My mother won’t give in to the Rossinis so easily. She’s far too crafty to not have a strategy for managing this problem. “What is the plan?”

  “We have no choice but to meet their demands.”

  That’s not the tactic I was expecting to hear. “I’m to be a sacrificial lamb?”

  “Not a sacrificial lamb. Our secret weapon.”

  Yes, I grew up a Bellini, but I’m unschooled when it comes to the affairs of this lifestyle. I’m a girl. Papà didn’t discuss Mafia things with me.

  “How in the world can I be used as a weapon?”

  “Luca Rossini is greedy but also highly intelligent, a dangerous combination. He’s very good at making moves that will ensure that he gets what he wants. This is only the beginning for him. He’s well on his way to being very wealthy and powerful. The bastard is the new and upcoming king of everything in New York. Your father’s replacement.”

  Does she hate him or admire him? I can’t tell the difference.

  “And you’ll be his queen,” Nonna adds. “What’s a queen without a king? More powerful.”

  I’m failing to hear the part about how I’m to be a weapon.

  “The empire will pass to his oldest son when he dies. Your son. It will be our opportunity to take back what is ours plus everything belonging to them.”

  “Luca Rossini is young. Unless he has some kind of terminal illness that I’m unaware of, he’s going to live for a long time.”

  “Without intervention, probably so.”

  Intervention? “You’re talking about killing him? Me killing him?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. But not before you give him a son.”

  This is nonsense. I’m not an assassin. “How do you propose I kill him without ending up dead myself?”

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead, but we have at least a year to come up with a foolproof plan.”

  “I don’t like this at all. Isn’t there another way?” Gemma says.

  “I don’t want to give my daughter to these monsters, but without allies willing to fight for us, we’re out of choices. We are the only people who can help us now, and we must be calculating. Hit them in a way they won’t see coming.”

  Half of my family has been murdered. I can’t allow the other half to meet the same fate when I have the ability to prevent it. “When am I to be delivered to them?”

  “Friday night.”

  Luca Rossini isn’t wasting any time. “That soon, huh?”

  My mother comes to me and grips my upper arms. Looking into my eyes, she says, “Marry him and you can fight him and his family from within their circle. You can avenge the wrong done against our family while you’re right beneath their noses, and they’ll never even know it.”

  Becoming his wife means that I’ll be going to war. And my marriage will be the battlefield.

  “The sooner you give him a son, the sooner we can get you out.”

  “Marco Rossini isn’t going to let me walk away with his grandson.”

  “He will if he’s dead.”

  “So now we’re talking about killing two people?”

  “Well, yes… plus Luca’s three younger brothers.”

  “Five people?”

  “And anyone else who gets in the way.”

  Five dead Rossini men. That number is still smaller than the Bellini death toll.

  This won’t be easy, but I owe this to my family. I owe this to everyone who lost their lives on my wedding day.

  “A queen will always turn her pain into strength and strength into power. Walk through your despair, Emilia. When you reach the end of your path, you’ll be where you want to be. You’ll have more money and power than you can dream of, and the Bellinis will reign once again.”

  I’ve never wanted money or power. Love and happiness have been my only true desires in life. But now? Now is a different story. I feel like something is waking up inside of me.

  Something dark and sinister.

  A powerful thirst for revenge.

  I will pretend to his face that I am the weak woman he believes me to be. But behind his back, I will be sharpening my hidden dagger. Patiently, I’ll wait for the perfect time to strike against him and his family.

  Go ahead, Luca Rossini. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun.

  6

  Luca Rossini

  My father’s consigliere, Arrigo, also known as his right-hand man, comes into our conference room where we’re sitting around the table. He’s one of the few people without the last name Rossini who are allowed into this room.

  “The Bellini women have arrived. They’re waiting for you in the living room.”

  My father goes to the wet bar and chuckles as he pours six glasses of whiskey. “They came. You know what this means, don’t you?”

  “It means they have no allies willing to go to battle for them. They’re out of options,” my brother Stephan says.

  “Exactly. And that means we’ve won the war. The Bellini assets are ours.”

  And Emilia Bellini is finally mine.

  Everyone takes a glass of whiskey, even my youngest brother Enzo who is only sixteen.

  “You should be the one to lead us in this toast, Luca. This is your victory.”

  I didn’t do this alone. It began with my grandfather’s foresight so many years ago. “From long ago until now, here’s to all of the decisions that led us to this place.”

  “But mostly your clever decisions, son. Your bravery,” my father says.

  We click our glasses together and toss back the whiskey. Enzo coughs and sputters much like I did the first time I had a shot of whiskey.

  “Such a mamma’s boy.” Dante loves ragging on Enzo.

  I place my hand on top of my baby brother’s head and muss up his hair. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle your liquor?”

  “I can handle it. It just went down the wrong way.”

  “Sure, it did, little bro.”

  I was younger than Enzo when I had my first shot of whiskey. I still remember the way it burned on the way down. I also remember pretending that I could handle it although I wasn’t certain that someone hadn’t swapped the liquor out with lighter fluid.

  My father slams his glass on the table. “Come on, boys. Time to collect our spoils of war.”

  This moment has been a long time coming. As I walk to where the women are waiting, it suddenly doesn’t feel real to me. I’m so accustomed to delays that I find myself wondering what the next one will be. But I remind myself that we’re in charge now, and there’ll be no more excuses. Emilia is going home with me tonight.

  The six Bellini women are seated when we enter the living room, and my eyes bounce back and forth between the daughters seated on each side of their mother. Both are beauties and very similar, but one is much lovelier than the other. I can’t decide which one is Emilia because it’s been too many years since I’ve seen her.

  “Welcome to our home,” my mother says as she comes into the room.

  Sofia smiles, but the hostility in her expression isn’t disguised. I don’t fault her for that, though. We’ve earned her hatred a hundred times over.

  “Your home is as lovely as I remember it.” Her tone is ice cold.

  “How long has it been since you were last here?”

  “Many, many years.”

  “That’s a shame. Looking back on it now, you and I should have spent more time together and raised the children to know each other. Perhaps things would have gone differently if we had.”

  “Perhaps.”
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br />   I focus my attention on the girl sitting to Sofia’s left. The more beautiful one. The older-looking one. The more frightened-looking one with tears pooling in her lower lids.

  Dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders and down her arms, the ends nuzzling against her bare skin like a frightened child clinging to its mother. Almond-shaped deep-caramel eyes surrounded by lush dark lashes. A few scattered freckles across the bridge of her perfectly shaped nose. Plump, glossy coral lips.

  In my wildest dreams, my betrothed didn’t grow up to be this beautiful. And it annoys the hell out of me because I don’t want to be attracted to her.

  I want to make her suffer.

  Sofia Bellini grips the hand of the girl in question. “Please, Marco. Swear to me on your honor that my daughter will be safe with you.”

  My father chuckles. “Emilia is going to give us babies, heirs to the Rossini empire. There is no safer place for her than with our family. You know that.”

  Sofia and the girl beside her, my Emilia, embrace one another and sob. Her grandmother and sisters cluster around her, doing the same. It’s pathetic. I would have expected less of a display from Bellinis. Certainly not this spectacle.

  My betrothed has weaknesses. Those will need to be eliminated before she influences our sons with that nonsense.

  “That’s more than enough of that,” I tell them.

  She lifts her chin, and her eyes meet mine for the first time. Inside those deep-caramel orbs, I see something I like very much: rage. There during one heartbeat and gone the next, it was only a fleeting flash. But I saw it, and I don’t mistake it for what it is.

  This girl is going to be so much fun to break.

  “Come, Emilia. I’m ready to take you home.”

  “She won’t be living here?” the grandmother asks.

  “I have my own home. She’ll live there with me.”

  “You didn’t mention anything about her living outside of the Rossini compound.”

  “I don’t think we’re obligated to tell you anything more than we wish to tell you, Sofia. In case you’ve forgotten, we have full control,” my father says.