Mafia Heir by L. Steele

Mafia Heir

1

This is the prequel to Mafia King

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I love you as the plant that never blooms

but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers…

-Pablo Neruda, One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII

Michael

Her lips, her scent, the taste of her fills my mouth, sinks into my blood. Her skin so soft, her curves that call out to me to touch her, her lush lips that part as I lean in closer. Her chin trembles. She tips up her face, and her green eyes peek out from under the fringe of her thick eyelashes.

"Amore mio,"I whisper, "tesoro mio." I lower my head until my eyelashes tangle with hers, until my nose bumps her, until we share breath and our lips almost meet. "Sei il mio cuore."

Her lips curve.

I brush my mouth over hers once, twice, and the taste of her, like strawberries and sunshine, punches me in the gut. I cup her cheek and the feel of her soft skin against the calluses of my palms reminds me just how fragile she is. How breakable she feels against the toughness of my body. I wrap my fingers about her neck, and her gaze widens. Her dark hair flows about her shoulders, pours over my forearm as I rub my thumb into the center of her throat.

"You’re gorgeous, my Beauty." I lower my nose to the curve where her neck meets her shoulder and sniff. The scent of her, like moonflowers that open late in the day, engulfs me. My heartbeat instantly speeds up and a groan rumbles up my chest. "Sei così bella che mi fai morire." I kiss the hollow at the base of her neck, then work my way down her chest. She whimpers, wriggles under me, and I chuckle,

"So impatient, Beauty?" I raise my head and stare into her beautiful green eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Anything you want, my lord."

"When you call me that…" A groan rumbles up my chest. "I can’t refuse you anything, you know that? You could ask me to die for you and I’d gladly do it. I’d walk through fire for you, amore mio, I’d throw myself off the highest mountain. I’d kill for you. I’d die a thousand deaths, if you’d only call me that again."

"My lord," the witch’s smile widens, "my master," she gazes deeply into my eyes, "the only one to whom I’d ever submit."

"The only one to whom you’ll ever acquiesce again."

"And if I don't?" She tilts her head and suppresses a grin, "What if I decide you aren’t the one for me?"

Anger burns through my veins and heat flushes my skin, "If you dare leave me for another, if you ever look at another man, if you ever let anyone else touch you... I’ll kill him, Beauty. I won’t stop until I’ve ground his face into the dirt, until I’ve pulled out his eyes for looking at you, broken his mouth for daring to speak to you, until I’ve pulled out his guts, smeared his blood on the ground and," I glare at her, "made love to you on the remains of his body."

Her breath hitches and her pupils dilate. I stare at her. She’s turned on, no doubt about it. My thirst for violence seems to fulfill a need deep inside of her—one she doesn’t bother to hide from me either.

"You’re not disgusted by my cruelty?" I tilt my head, "My penchant for brutality seems to turn you on, Bellezza."

"And what if it does?" She purses her lips, "What if I say that it is the savagery at your core that attracts me? That it is the ferocity to go after what’s yours that appeals to the darkness in me. That," she tips up her chin so her lips are almost on mine, "it is your forcefulness, your need for destruction, your ruthlessness in not holding back what you are thinking, your vehemence in saying what’s on your mind, as you use your dominance to overpower every challenge in your path, that resonates with this yearning deep inside me to be taken, to be subdued, to be—"

"Mine," I growl as I glare into her eyes, "only mine." I close my lips over hers and her entire body shudders. A moan bleeds from her and I know then, I need her, want her, must have her, right now. I tear my mouth from hers, peer into her face, "Promise me," I order, "that you’ll never hide any secrets from me, that you’ll never turn your back on me, that you’ll never ever leave me."

Her green eyes widen; color fades from her cheeks. "Michael, I…"

"Michael, get up, you need to see this."

I snap my eyes open, stare into the face of my brother and Second, "The hell are you doing here, Luca?"

He glances down and I follow his gaze to where I have the blade of my knife pushed up against his throat.

"Shit, Michael," he drawls, "take it easy, fratellone. It’s only me."

"Well, that’ll teach you to surprise me when I sleep."

"I tried calling you." He stares at my hand pointedly until I remove it. I slide the knife into its sheath and slip it under my pillow, next to my gun. I never go anywhere without both of my weapons; definitely, never sleep without them. Still, when it comes to crunch time, I prefer the knife to the gun… No wonder, I had instinctively reached for it in my sleep. It's a knife that saved me all those years ago when my father came after me. A humble kitchen knife, but it had done the job of stopping him from almost killing me.

I had turned eighteen, had come into my own as a man. It was the first time I had snatched a weapon and defended myself against him. It hadn’t been my last. It’s why I have trained myself to use a knife to defend myself. Never go anywhere without it on my body. It’s why I carry that knife—the very same knife from my mother’s kitchen—with me always. A memory of her that I keep close to me, a reminder that I hadn’t been able to save her. A regret that I will forever carry.

"Hey, Michael, you okay?" Luca scans my features, "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

The ghost of my mother, which never leaves me… Which reminds me that I will never forgive myself for not intervening in time to save her life. Though none of that explains the dream I just had.

Who the hell was that woman in my dream? She’d felt so real. Had tasted like life itself. And her scent... That lush, elusive, mysterious scent… Heat tugs at my lower belly. Che cazzo! Whycan’t I get those images out of my head. It had seemed so real, felt so real… I had been convinced I had been in bed with her. I shake my head to clear it and Luca’s gaze narrows.

"You okay, fratellone?" he mutters.

"Why wouldn’t I be?"

"You didn’t respond when I called you. Which isn’t like you, at all, by the way."

I pick up my phone from the nightstand, glance at it. Sure enough, there’s a missed call from him.

"When you didn’t respond, I came over to wake you up. When I entered the room, it sounded like you were in the middle of a dream… Which, going by the sounds you were making, I can only conclude that it must have about some woman—"

I glare at him, and he holds up his hands. "Hey, just tellin’ it like it is."

"What-bloody-ever."

I throw off the covers, throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. Hell, if I don’t have a hard-on right now. Not that it matters. There aren’t many secrets between me and Luca. That’s what happens when you are left in charge of your four younger brothers at a very young age. Our father had beaten our mother to an early grave, then he’d turned his attentions on us. I had protected my younger siblings and taken the brunt of his wrath. Luca, being closest in age to me, had had an inkling of what was happening. He had partnered with me, when possible, to care for our younger siblings.

Our Nonna had stepped in after our mother had died, and while she had done her best… It was really me who had taken on the role of caregiver for our younger siblings.

Each of them has been grateful to me ever since; a sentiment I don’t hesitate to use to my advantage, by the way. And why not? I had taken the brunt of my father’s temper, and yet, I hadn’t been able to save my mother from him. A guilt I’ll always carry with me. If I had only stepped in earlier to help. So what, if I had been very young? I had known what was happening. How our mother had silently borne his anger, his rage, his various affairs that he’d insisted were his prerogative as Mafia Don. All of it had contributed to her heart attack at barely forty. It had left me with a healthy disrespect for marriage and a need to grow up as fast as I could, so I could take care of my family…find my place in my clan…and ultimately, have my revenge for my mother’s death.

I brush past Luca, head for the shower, "Have the others arrived, yet?"

"They’re waiting for you."

"Give me five minutes." I glance over my shoulder, "Why don’t you kick off the meeting. I’ll join you, very soon."