Shane: A Mafia Love Story: Dark Erotic Romance (19 page)

Sofia was a tiny little woman with a head full of white hair and dark eyes that appeared to catch everything. “More tea, Mr. O’Mara?”

He shook his head as he handed back his bone china cup to the woman. She must have been in her early fifties, but there was an air of fragility about her that made her seem older. Instinctively, he had treated her gently and with full respect, somehow biting back his impatience at her insistence on social niceties as he pried delicately to determine if she knew her nephew’s whereabouts. “No, thank you. As I mentioned when you first agreed to see me, I need to find Aldo. It’s urgent.”

“Yes, you said.” She folded her hands together on her lap and examined him. “What is your business with my dear nephew?”

He cleared his throat, trying to find an honest answer that wasn’t
too
honest. “I need his help to find my girlfriend.”

“Have you misplaced her, dear?” she asked with a twinkle of her dark eyes.

He bit back a sigh. “No, she was kidnapped. I think Aldo might have the contacts to help me find her.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “How distressing. I lost a lover once. Papa didn’t approve of him, so…” With a slicing motion that was incongruous with her elderly lady appearance, she took her finger across her throat. “I was upset then, but I understand now it was the right choice.” She sipped her tea. “He was never meant to be mine, you see.”

“Ah, that must have been difficult.” Shane strove for patience. “Do you have any idea where Aldo might be?”

“Who is your girlfriend, dear?”

He hesitated, but remembering how fond Mia had been of Stefania and probably was of Sofia, he said, “Mia Kasilli, Aldo’s stepsister.” It left a foul taste in his mouth to utter the word, but he struggled to hide his disgust. Surely, the older woman would be more eager to help now.

She dropped her teacup onto the saucer with a clatter. “Little Mia?” Sofia scowled. “I had no idea she had disappeared. No one tells me anything.”

“It just happened, so perhaps Vadim and Aldo haven’t heard yet.”

“Please don’t mention that foul man’s name in my home, Mr. O’Mara.” Sofia grimaced. “Kasilli is a monster. He murdered his first wife, and he accelerated my sister’s decline with his brutish temper and many abuses.”

“Yes, he’s a terrible person, but he isn’t why I’m here.”

“Of course.” She stood up. “No, dear, sit there. I’m going to fetch something. I think it will help the situation.”

Shane tried not to fidget as the old dear shuffled around his chair and toward the desk behind him. What could she possibly be searching for as she rustled papers? His heart accelerated at the thought of her giving him an address for some kind of retreat. He already knew Aldo wasn’t at his large estate, because Shane had burned it to the ground earlier in the evening after ascertaining no one was inside—especially not Mia or the worthless, sadistic bastard he hunted.

“Here we are. This should be of assistance.”

Shane started to turn, and his body went rigid at the white-hot pain exploding in his shoulder. At first, he couldn’t understand what had happened and assumed the gunshot wound in his chest had caused the pain. Only when he looked down to see the tip of a blade protruding from his flesh did he realize the sweet old lady had stabbed him.

“What the fuck?” Shane staggered upright as she pulled out the knife with more strength than she should possess. He evaded her when she waved it at him, but his balance was off, and he sprawled on the floor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m helping my nephew.” Her dark eyes were beady like a vulture’s now, and just as cold as an avian’s. “Mia belongs to him. He’s loved her for years.”

“She’s in danger from him.”

“Because she’s a whore.” She glared at him, thrusting the knife toward him as he started to get to his feet. “She squandered his love and left him. Many times he cried in my arms as I comforted him, shedding tears for the girl who had left him. I tried to be Mia for him, but a young man wants a young woman, and I could only do so much.”

Nausea hit him as the implication behind her words penetrated his brain. “You’re as sick as he is.”

“The gall of you, coming here to my home and demanding I help you find my nephew so you can steal Mia from him again?” She wagged the knife again. “If I had been faster, you would be dead now, you filthy Mick.”

Shane scooted backward until there were several feet between them. Finally, he lurched to his feet, his hand curving around his gun in a familiar, comforting way. “I don’t want to have to kill an old lady, so get the fuck out of my way. Make a move toward me, and I’ll shoot you. I should anyway.”

She stood near him, hand trembling as she held the knife, but Sofia didn’t try to lunge for him. Once again, she was the frail old lady she had been at the start, but he wasn’t fooled this time. He kept her in his sights as he went to the closed door of the parlor to call in Bruno.

The big man stared at his bleeding shoulder for a moment, clearly shocked. “What happened, boss?”

“Her resemblance to Stefania must have been greatly exaggerated. Tie up the old bag, and let’s get out of here.”

Bruno took the knife, and she let it go meekly. Sofia shuffled back to her seat and didn’t protest when the large man used the curtain ties to restrain her. She appeared to be deep in thought—or asleep—as they started to leave.

“He’ll have taken what’s his by now, Mick. And he’s very good at taking.” She purred the words with a disturbing sexual undertone. “Your little Mia will be split in half and bleeding to death from her cunt by now. You’ll probably never find her, but if you do, it will be nothing more than a body with a gaping hole between the legs.”

Bruno slammed the door behind them to muffle her mad cackling. “She’s nuts, boss.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Psycho runs in this family, Bruno.” Shane jerked a doily off a nearby table and stuffed it into the knife wound. Breath hissed between his teeth as fire flared in the wound at the intrusion.

Bruno looked pale. “You probably need to see a doc, boss. I know you want to find Mia, but you gotta get some stitches before you bleed out.”

He arched a brow. “I don’t think it’s that bad.” As he took a step forward, his head spun, and he had to pause. “Well, maybe a few stitches. We’ll get the limo and go for the doc. He can stitch me up in the back while you drive.”

They stepped out of Sofia’s modest little home on a quiet residential street. He shook his head, amazed that she was so good at covering her true nature. She’d taken him in, and he felt like a gigantic ass—with a throbbing stab wound.

As they headed toward his sports car, his phone rang. Shane took it from his pocket with his good arm, recognizing Patrick Murphy’s number as he accepted the call. “Hello.”

“I’m at the Kasilli warehouse. You know the one?”

Shane scrunched his brow, thinking. “Where they store the human cargo from Russia before resell?”

“Yeah, usually, but they’re between shipments. I need you here at the meeting.”

“Why?” Shane braced himself to go rogue if Patrick rescinded his tacit permission to find Mia however was necessary.

“Mia’s on her way here, and things will be decided. Get here as soon as you can.”

Shane stared at phone for a long second after Murphy hung up.

“Boss?” Bruno nudged his arm. “You gonna call the doc?”

“No, there’s no time for that now.” Shane stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “Send Cormac a text telling him to meet us at the Kasilli warehouse, and get me there as fast as you can.” It sounded like everything depended upon what went down at the warehouse.

Mia’s vision was blurry, and her body ached from head to toe. Snippets of memories returned in brief flashes that made her head spin harder when she tried to concentrate on them. After several minutes of drifting in and out of consciousness, she had pieced together enough to remember she was Aldo’s captive, and he had beaten her after anally raping her.

She blinked her eyes several times, struggling to focus as she evaluated her position. She seemed to be tied to a chair, her arms confined behind her back painfully with thin plastic straps. Zip ties? She knew they were a favorite method of confining people from seeing her father’s goons stuff them in pockets by the handful over the years.

As though thinking about him had summoned him, his face filled her vision when she finally managed the simultaneously difficult task of opening her eyes, keeping her lids up, and focusing on an object for more than a second. Mia blinked and lost focus again for several seconds. When her vision sharpened, and Vadim was still there, she scowled. “The fuck you here?”

His expression showed confusion for a second, but nothing else. Was she that incoherent?

Cautiously, Mia turned her head slightly, gasping when pain flared, and her tentative vision faded again for several seconds. Finally, a new face came into focus, and she didn’t recognize him. He was somewhere between thirty-five and forty-five, with russet hair, a thin beard along his jawline, and hazel eyes that looked kinder than any she had seen for the past…how many ever hours or days it had been since Selena took her. “Who? Why…”

The man gave her a small smile. “You’re okay for now.”

That wasn’t terribly reassuring, but at least he wasn’t actively trying to hurt her. “Where’s Aldo?” Mia couldn’t hide her fear.

“My grandson is regaining control of his temper, Mia.”

The voice was vaguely familiar, and she already knew it was Sal by the time she managed to look in his direction and focus her hazy vision. He’d been an infrequent visitor to the Kasilli estate when Stefania was alive, and she had never developed any warm feelings for him. She certainly didn’t consider him her grandfather in any sense.

The memory of several men in dark suits storming the room suddenly came back to her. “How did I get here?”

“Aldo had gone to ground. O’Mara has already wrecked half my territory trying to find him, so I knew he must be at the little apartment Stefania owned in the art district. She kept it for sentiment’s sake even after I convinced her to do her familial duty to cement the truce by marrying Vadim.”

Mia could barely process his words due to her aching head, but they reminded her of an apartment Stefania had mentioned fondly a few times. She had lived there after her first husband died, despite her father’s disapproval of the size and neighborhood. A tiny bubble of laughter welled in her as she remembered Stefania once hinting that it had been the love nest she shared with Arvin Lovelle, though her stepmother had never outright confessed to continuing the relationship during her marriage to Vadim.

“But why did you rescue me? You don’t give a fuck about me.” She glared at her father as she spoke, though her words were meant for all of them—even the stranger with the hazel eyes.

“We couldn’t let O’Mara continue his rampage.”

“Now, Sal, Aldo wasn’t the soul of discretion either,” said the other man, and Mia finally recognized his voice from the two brief conversations they’d had via Shane’s cell phone.

“Aldo was on the defensive, Patrick.”

“He’s a crazy bastard,” rasped Mia, her throat raw.

Sal glowered at her. “You are the cause of all this mess, and you should shut up before you make it worse for yourself.”

Mia blinked as her vision blurred before coming back into focus. “There’s nothing worse than being at Aldo’s mercy.” She turned her head to Patrick Murphy, nausea rising in her stomach with the movement. “Where is Shane? Is he okay?”

He nodded. “He’s on his way.”

Relief swept through her, but she couldn’t let herself get too excited. Just because she was out of Aldo’s clutches, and Shane was safe, didn’t mean the situation would stay static. “Do me a favor, Mr. Murphy?”

He lifted a shoulder. “If I can.”

“If the decision comes down to handing me over to Aldo, please kill me instead.”

The other man flinched, but didn’t reply.

Silence settled for a moment before a clattering broke it. Mia swore she could feel Shane’s presence the moment he entered the room, though it was more likely the sound of his cursing reached her first. Her head lolled back when she tried to turn to see him approaching, but she managed a small smile for her lover when he was suddenly standing over her. “Hi.”

His eyes were soft when he looked down at her, but she saw his expression harden when he turned to face the three men sitting on a sofa a few feet away. “Why is she tied up, Mr. Murphy?”

Patrick held up a hand. “Not my idea. Sal thought it might be a necessary precaution.”

He snorted. “She’s not going anywhere. Look at her.”

Mia caught the glint of a knife as Shane took it from his belt, but she didn’t have any fear. Seconds later, the plastic binding her wrists broke with a small tug, and her arms flopped at her sides. She wanted to lift them to hug him, but she couldn’t manage that feat yet.

“I’m taking her home.”

“Not so fast,” said Sal Peretti. “You’ve insulted Aldo’s honor, and he won’t like you taking his woman. You have no standing compared to him.”

“Shane has a great deal of standing with me, Sal,” said Patrick in a smooth voice, but with a hint of warning underneath. “It’s obvious the girl wants to be with him, so why are we interfering in romantic matters?”

“It isn’t obvious to me,” said Aldo as the door slammed open again, the reverberation echoing around the cavernous room. “He’s taken her and brainwashed her. I’m trying to save her.”

Mia started to laugh, but her ribs hurt too much, and she winced instead. “Who’ll save me from you?”

“See?” He walked over to stand on her other side, jabbing a finger in her direction. “Vadim just gave her to this fucking Mick as payment for a debt. Who knows what he’s done to her?” Aldo cupped her chin, forcing her head his way. “Has he been giving you drugs, honey?”

She jerked her head, not succeeding in freeing herself until Shane pried his hand off her. “Don’t touch me.”

“She doesn’t want him to touch her,” crowed Aldo with triumph.

“Not him, you.” Her throat was so raw it hurt to push out the words. “He’s not the one who hurts me. I want nothing to do with you.”

Sal leaned forward to reach for a white demitasse cup on the coffee table strategically positioned near the sofa. The whole area looked like it had been thrown together to offer a semblance of hospitality, complete with an expensive aubussan rug underneath the sofa and table. The civil pretense was a stark contrast to the blood stains on the cement floor visible at the edges where the rug didn’t cover.

Mia blinked, torn from her surreal appraisal of the décor by Sal’s words after he took a sip of espresso. “To be blunt, gentlemen, I care not what the girl wants. Aldo is my priority and one of my successors, along with Gio. He will lead the Peretti family one day, and all this friction will not be good for cooperation. Give him the girl and avoid the risk of an insult he won’t forgive or forget.”

“I think that would be a mistake,” said Patrick in a mild voice. “It’s clear she doesn’t want to be with him. If you try to force her to go where she doesn’t want, she’ll be escaping and running back to Shane. It will simply prolong the
friction
,” he put a mocking inflection on the word, “To allow this conflict to continue. Your grandson will follow your decision, so if you tell him to end this, he will.”

“I assume your man will do the same?” Sal could have been asking about the weather for all the interest he seemed to hold in the answer, but there was a note of challenge in his eyes visible even to Mia’s blurred vision.

Patrick inclined his head. “Of course. Vadim, what do you say? You speak for Mr. Varnakov as his representative here, and she’s your daughter.”

Mia stared impassively at her father.

“Let them fight for her. Whoever lives keeps her.” He reached for his cup and sipped as though the matter up for discussion wasn’t anything to him either way. It clearly wasn’t.

Sal’s civilized veneer started to crumble. “I will not risk losing my cherished grandson to a pussy fight. Gio can’t lead alone. The girl must be Aldo’s, or our truce is over.”

Mia jumped at his words, her heart racing with fear. The name teased her brain, and desperation spurred her to make connections her addled mind might not have otherwise. “Gio and Aldo are planning to oust you, Sal.”

The old man scowled. “What nonsense is this?”

“Aldo told me earlier that he was going to get rid of you. He wanted to get rid of Stefania too and regretted not having a chance to kill her.” Struggling to hide her fear and the weakness crashing over her, she made herself maintain eye contact. “She helped me escape him, so he wanted her dead for that. Surely you loved Stefania, and that upsets you?”

“I did love my darling daughter.” Sal frowned before shrugging. “You have no proof of your claims.”

Mia wrinkled her brow, straining mentally as her thoughts threatened to splinter and disintegrate. “He said…” What was it Aldo had said? She’d been too busy hurting to pay much attention then, but there had to be something… “A cartel. He said Gio would do his part with the cartel.”

Sal froze in the process of lifting his cup, and his dark gaze switched to Aldo, drilling into him as though he had x-ray vision. “What else did he say?”

Helplessly, she shook her head and wished she hadn’t when stars exploded behind her eyes, and her brain felt like it sloshed around in her skull.  “I think that was it.”

“It’s all lies, Nonno.” Aldo sounded confident, but Mia thought his voice shook a bit.

Sal’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps, but how does she know anything about our business with the cartel?”

Peripherally, she saw him shrug. “I don’t know. Perhaps she eavesdropped, or maybe O’Mara said something.”

“O’Mara would have no information about our very discreet negotiations with Alcartes breaking off due to lack of agreement, Aldo.” Sal went quiet, as though analyzing something the way a computer would. When he spoke again, his voice was cold. “A fight to the death.”

Mia gasped, her gaze finding Shane’s before raking over him. He was pale and seemed unsteady. A new bloodstain marred his shirt, and his arm was still in the cast to keep his chest immobilized for healing. He couldn’t have recovered enough from his gunshot wound, let alone the newest injury, to face Aldo. In top form, her stepbrother would probably not be a match for Shane, but with her lover so weakened, she didn’t think he could beat the other man.

“Nonno, you can’t be serious.” There was an edge of panic to Aldo’s voice.

Sal lifted a shoulder. “I have questions about your loyalty now. Kill the Mick to get your whore, and we will speak no more about this. Die at his hands, and it solves the quandary as well.” He seemed not to care which way the scenario played out for Aldo.

Patrick cleared his throat. “If you prefer not to fight, Aldo, we could all walk away from this.”

“No,” said Sal decisively before his grandson could answer. “This must be settled tonight.”

Mia was certain he didn’t give a fuck about what happened to her, or who won her. Sal simply wanted Aldo to either prove his loyalty in some confusing honor-code way that made no sense to her, or get himself killed and take care of any coups in the planning stage.

Aldo looked nervous, but nodded. He still wore the white scrubs, now adorned with traces of her blood. “Fine, if that’s your preference, Nonno, I shall do as you ask.” His icy gaze chilled her when he looked down at her. “You will belong to me for the rest of your life in a few minutes, dear sister.” Speaking only so she and Shane could hear, he added, “It will be a short and pain-filled life at that. I practiced on Spare last night while waiting for you to wake up, and her final screams of agony were music, but yours will be a concerto.”

Sickened, Mia looked away from him. Her eyes burned as she imagined the suffering that poor girl had undergone at Aldo’s hands throughout the time he had “owned” her. Had she still been giving him that look of slavish love when he’d killed her?

Shane growled, but didn’t respond to Aldo. Instead, he leaned down slightly to speak against Mia’s ear. “Cormac and Bruno are going to get you out of here no matter what. They’re both watching, and they won’t let Aldo take you.”

“I’d rather die first,” she whispered, “But you can’t do this. You’re too weak.” She glanced at the wound stuffed with something lacy that was probably once white. “What happened?”

“Aunt Sofia is a psycho bitch. I’ll tell you all about it after I kill him.”

She lifted one of her heavy arms to grasp his hand. “He’s going to kill you. I can’t let that happen.”

Shane touched her cheek. “You have no choice. No more interference, baby girl. This is how it has to play out. I promise you I won’t let that fucker beat me, and I know how you feel about promises. I won’t make one I can’t keep. Okay?”