The Vendetti Devil: an age gap mafia romance Page 3

  She sighs, stepping away and pulling her granddaughter back to allow me to enter. I’ve learned a lot in the few days since I made my presence known to Sammi Morelli, and he knew I’d discovered his big secret. As far as the world’s concerned this intriguing young woman may as well be a ghost, she doesn’t exist, and there’s no paper trail to connect her to anyone. If she’d been a little older, I’d have thought she was Sammi’s mistress or girlfriend, but she’s too young. No, the magic happened when I searched through Sammi’s past and discovered he’d been with a woman for years before she’d died. Her image compared to the girl was all the confirmation I needed before I put two and two together to get four.

  The old lady is a problem, though. She’ll have to go, and fast. I can’t give her any time to panic and call for assistance or try to escape with my newfound interest. “Would you like a cup of coffee? We can sit in the kitchen and discuss whatever it is you’ve come to share with us.”

  “Yes. Black is fine.” I follow the two into a quaint kitchen and sit at a small four-seater table. The grandmother moves around the kitchen with grace for her old age, grabbing us each a cup of coffee. I can’t believe Sammi would entrust his daughter’s safety to her as she has to be pushing eighty.

  The girl must be a teenager, though she looks older than she most likely is. She’s tall with curvy hips. If she were older, I’d allow myself to appreciate her shape as well. No doubt, the grandmother has taught her the ways of traditional Italian cooking. I can admire it as I know it takes a lot of work. My nonna was always making something when I was a small boy and we’d visit her in Italy. I loved those times, as the memories were wholesome, aside from my mother disappearing.

  There’s no time for any of the sort. I need to get this old lady buried six feet under and take Sammi’s daughter with me. The only place I can think to go to keep her identity hidden is home. She’d be safe and taken care of in New York, and I wouldn’t have to worry about her being a sitting liability here.

  “I’m Dante and your name?”

  “Emilia,” she offers and sets a plate of iced cake in the middle of the table, along with three small dishes. Not as if any food matters, I’m too busy staring at her too-perfect lips. What is it about a woman with perfect lips—one small body part that can easily drive a man wild with lust.

  Emilia. I test the word on my tongue, thinking I’d like something else there as well. It’s quite beautiful, her name, that is. As well as the rest of her. I could imagine myself stripping her bare and fucking her over this table. Although who am I kidding, it’d break far too easily for what I’d have in mind for her.

  “And this is my nonna, Fredricka.”

  “Grazie,” I murmur as Fredricka places the cup before me and sits across from mine. I watched the house in the past and never saw anyone come or go, aside from the mailwoman. I can’t believe Sammi was foolish enough to leave them here without any security.

  “I’m sure you’re not here to have my coffee, so spill it, ragazzo.”

  A smirk tilts my lips at her feistiness—I wish the circumstances were different. At least she’s lived the majority of her life before I have to kill her. “Sammi won’t be returning here again. I gave him my word I’d make sure Emilia’s identity remains unknown and she’s safe.”

  Emilia screws up her nose, glancing between her grandmother and me. “What’s he talking about, Nonna? Why would he be concerned about people knowing who I am? Or my safety, nothing ever happens here.”

  The woman pats her hand and says, “Because your father had a dangerous life. He chose not to share it with you and keep you safe. You have my last name to help protect you.”

  “It’s why you wouldn’t let me go to school or anywhere, really,” she says to herself, the pieces beginning to click into place for her.

  “You’re correct, granddaughter mine. You’ve been home-schooled and kept away from the world at your father’s request. If your mother were here, I’d like to think your life would’ve been different.”

  Emilia tears up, grabbing a napkin to dot the wetness under her eyes. “And now my father isn’t returning. So what next? I stay here for the rest of my life, away from everything? How is this fair?”

  Setting my cup down, I say, “Not exactly. When the time comes, I’ll help you move somewhere else so you remain safe. You should have more freedom than you do now.”

  She bites her bottom lip, her gaze skirting between her grandmother and me. I have nothing else to offer. I can’t exactly tell her it’s about to happen. Her nonna will lose it, and I’ll end up offing the woman in front of her granddaughter. There will be a mess everywhere from her frail fighting attempts, which is exactly what I don’t want to happen. I may be a stone-cold killer, but even I draw the line at not wanting to fuck young people up if I can help it.

  Fredricka smiles tenderly at her granddaughter, empathy reflected in her expression. She loves Emilia, no doubt. From what I’ve gathered, she’s devoted her life to raising her dead daughter’s child.

  “Let’s take it one day at a time.” I attempt to reason, knowing it’s probably bullshit. I’m going to manage to fuck this girl up in the end somehow.

  Emilia sighs and speaks up, “One hour at a time. One minute at a time.”

  Fredricka nods. “Si. For now, we drink, eat, and be thankful for the time we have together. Your father loves you very much, and if he saw another way, he would do it. You must trust this is the right path for you and pray on it.”

  “But never see him again? How could he leave and not tell us?” More tears come. “Excuse me,” she manages to choke out before practically running from the table.

  I move to stand, but Fredricka raises her wrinkled hand to halt me. “She will pray on it, and she’ll come to understand. Don’t coddle Emilia, she’s her own strength.”

  As someone who has lost a parent, I don’t think Emilia will ‘come to understand’ as quickly as the old woman believes she will. However, I’m the new one here, so I keep my mouth shut about it, ass on the chair, and take another sip of my coffee.

  “Is there anything imperative I should know about Emilia?”

  “She may be Sammi’s daughter, but she’s nothing like him. She doesn’t know a lick of what the man has his hands in. She’s innocent.”

  “What does she believe he does then? Obviously, he makes money to support her here.”

  “He told her he works for the city. I guess in his way, he believed as much as well.”

  With a shake of my head, I bite my tongue to refrain from sharing the first thing coming to mind. Sammi was nothing more than a lowlife thug masquerading as a respectable criminal. From what I’ve heard, he did nearly everyone in his life dirty and had more enemies than most of us. “I won’t bring it up to her.”

  “Smart. If Emilia asks, maybe don’t keep all the details from her as she grows older. She deserves to know he wasn’t a kind man and that she’s the reflection of her mother. I want her to naturally choose to stay away from his life, to be the smart young woman I know she’ll be.”

  “You talk as if you won’t see any of it.”

  “Will I?” she flat-out asks, throwing me off my game a bit. I’m discovering this woman doesn’t beat around the bush. She must be from the life. I’ve underestimated her, which rarely, if ever, happens. “Something tells me this will be the last time I see my Emilia. I may be an old woman, but I’m not a dumb one.”

  With a flash of teeth, my grin’s swift and lethal before I’m back to seriousness. If you blinked, you’d have missed it. “And you’re okay if it were the case?”

  She nods and releases a sigh. “I’m tired. My body has hurt for longer than I can remember. My husband has been gone for too many years. I’m past being ready. I’ve only held on this long to raise my daughter’s child. She was taken far too soon from this world, and I was fortunate to get more time with her through Emilia. You care for her, as a man should, and I’ll go quietly,” she promises. It’s the last thing I expec
ted coming here today, but I’ll gladly take it. One less gruesome kill to cloud my conscience, and I can get Emilia to New York almost immediately.

  Reaching into the inner pocket of my sports coat, I grab the small bottle of pills. I set the yellow tube before her. “It will be fast and painless.”

  “You’ll lay me on the couch so Emilia doesn’t worry?”

  “She’ll believe you fell asleep and didn’t wake up.”

  Her lower lip trembles a soft beat, then she’s back to holding her head high. “Let’s not waste my cake.” She dishes both of us a small slice and sets a pill on her plate.

  We sip our coffees and discuss New York. I tell her how beautiful the Estate is and that Emilia will be welcomed there by a big family. Mio famiglia. How she’ll be around children and have strong women to look up to for guidance should she need it, and by the end of our chat, Fredricka’s at ease. Her shoulders have relaxed, her eyes light with each new detail I share.

  We eat our last bites of the sweet homemade Italian cream cake, and then Fredricka takes her final breath. Had I known she would be like this, I’d have brought her with us. But she was lonely and said she was in pain, so I did right by her. I was upfront with her and helped her pass away peacefully. My brothers always chide that I tell the truth, and in this case, I couldn’t help myself.

  Lifting the tiny, frail woman from her seat, I move her to the couch. She weighs next to nothing, and she looks a touch younger in her death. The strong deep lines have relaxed a bit as if she’s no longer carrying the heavy weight of her worries. Using the knitted throw on the back of the couch, I cover her up and whisper, “Good night, Nonna. I will take care of your girl. It’s one promise I intend to keep. I swear it on my life.”

  4

  DANTE

  I don’t care if the whole world is against us.

  You got me, I got you.

  — Pinterest meme

  * * *

  “Thank you for helping bury my grandmother. I know it’s not something you had to do, but I appreciate it. I’m not sure I would’ve made it through the service if you hadn’t been by my side.” Emilia reaches for my hand, squeezing it as she thanks me. I don’t deserve her gratitude, I’m the one who caused her the pain in the first place.

  “Of course. You never have to be alone. You’ll get along well with my famiglia. They’re noisy, but they’ll make sure you’re protected.”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “I know that. Why would you say such a thing to me?”

  Her eyes widen a touch, and it has me catching my breath. Did I scare her? “I-I just want you to realize I’m not. I may have been sheltered growing up, but it doesn’t mean I’m naïve.”

  I’m not sure where this is coming from. I’ve caught her staring at me multiple times, but I thought it was because she was trying to figure me out. Could it have meant something else entirely? I don’t want to project any of my thoughts on her without her even consenting to my lustful fantasies.

  “Trust me, I see you,” I say instead of allowing her words to hook me any further and possibly making myself look like an ass.

  “Yeah?” she asks, her tone softer, her gaze, dare I say it’s dreamy?

  Not being able to hold myself back from touching her, I reach for her face. My finger hooks under some fallen strands, and I tuck the locks behind her ear. If she only had a clue how stunning she is, she wouldn’t be worrying about me noticing anything about her. It’s the main problem I’m having with her—I’m seeing far too much, and it’s a distraction I can’t afford.

  “Dante,” she whispers my name, catching her breath.

  “Mmm, tesoro?”

  “You really think so?”

  Shrugging, I look away. I shouldn’t give her pet names, but fuck if I care about should and shouldn’t. I’m already holding myself back from touching her and feeding her my cock like I want to. Pretty sure that’s gold-fucking-standard, not corrupting the headstrong woman at my side.

  “Why don’t you answer me?” she demands, and I find her tone amusing. We’re alone on the private jet, save for the pilot and stewardess. We got our drinks and have been left alone since, which is the way I like it.

  Leaning in, my nose barely grazes her ear. Not exactly touching but enough for her to realize I was there, or better yet, imagine me in this particular spot in the future. “Because… I’m too busy thinking about fucking you and ruining you for the rest of your life. No, shut up so I don’t traumatize you with my cock.”

  She draws in a shaky breath as her cheeks heat. My words hit home.

  Closing my eyes, I attempt to relax in the quietness of the private jet. Santino stayed in Chicago with my crew to keep an eye on things. I know he’s competent, but it doesn’t stop the worry weighing on me. I’m his older fratello, I should be there to help protect him if he requires it. Taking Emilia back home is important as well, but the intense feeling of loyalty to my family first is heavy on my shoulders.

  Emilia says almost nothing the entire trip home, keeping her thoughts and opinions locked away, out of my reach. It’s not an extended amount of time or anything, being we take the family’s private jet, but still. How will she cope in a new city, a different home, and with none of her family around?

  Violet will see to her settling in—Matteo will ensure it. I hope so because I can’t be in the same house with Violet at the moment. My internal wounds where she’s concerned are still touch and go.

  We arrive at the Vendetti Estate, and a warm sense of familiarity hits me in the chest stronger than ever before. I miss my home. A part of me wishes I could remain alongside Emilia, but it’s not in the cards for me at this point in my life. I must return to Chicago as soon as possible, as we have business and far too many enemies there to leave Santino behind for an extended period.

  Offering Emilia my hand, I help her climb from the luxury sedan that had been waiting for us upon our arrival. “My things?” she asks, glancing toward the car.

  Resting her dainty hand on my elbow, I attempt to be reassuring. “Everything will be brought in. You have nothing to worry about.” I offer Saul, the driver, a grateful nod.

  Leading Emilia up the imposing front stairs to our oversized front door, I murmur, “Welcome to the Vendetti Estate, to my home. I hope you’ll be comfortable here for as long as you stay.” I don’t put an end date on the time frame as the decision isn’t hers to begin with. It’ll all depend on Matteo and his use for her. If she’s fortunate, then it’ll never come to that, but I won’t rule out a power play just yet.

  Luciano is right inside the spacious foyer, waiting for us. “Fratello!” he cheers, wearing a wide grin and wraps me in a brotherly hug. He and Valentino are closest to me in age, but I tend to think more like Matteo and look like Romano. It can get confusing to some, but what do you expect in a large Italian famiglia? “You’ve brought us a guest,” he notes appreciatively.

  Scowling in return, I practically growl, “Not us. This is Emilia. She’ll be staying for a while, and she’s hands off.”

  Meeting Emilia’s curious, but amused gaze, I introduce my sibling. “This is Luciano. He’s younger than me and usually up to no good. Thankfully, Santino’s in Chicago, or I’d be worried about leaving you here with both of them.”

  She leans in, whispering, “Are they dangerous or something?”

  Luciano’s able to pick up on her question and laughs. “Quite the opposite. We have plenty of fun.”

  “She’s too young. Hands off,” I rumble the warning again with some bite behind it.

  Her mouth drops open. “Excuse me? But how old do you think I am?”

  “Seventeen, eighteen maybe?”

  She gasps. “You’re entirely wrong! I can’t believe you think I’m so young.”

  With a shrug, I move on, not caring at this point. “Regardless, Luciano, you make sure all our fratelli know not to touch her.”

  His brows jump, his hands raising in surrender. “You don’t have to warn me off tw
ice. I get it. She’s yours.”

  I shoot him a glare, not liking what he’s insinuating. If it keeps her modesty intact, I’ll swallow any rebuttal down. “Where are the others? I need to get Emilia settled in and introduced to our famiglia.”

  “Matteo and Cris are in their offices as usual. Salvatore has taken Annabella and Rosa to the city to do some shopping.” I nod, edging him on. “Valentino is sulking around, heartbroken somewhere, probably plotting someone’s murder. Arianna and little Romeo will be in the gardens, and Violet will be with the new bambino. You should find her and visit with our new nephew.”

  “I already sent gifts for him,” I reply defensively. He knows damn well I can’t handle being with Violet, especially around another of my brother’s children. I’m happy for them, I am, but the burn is still there. With time, I’ll come back around and get to know my nieces and nephews.

  Tugging Emilia’s hand, I lead her toward the offices. “Let’s find Matteo, he’ll be eager to speak to me. My youngest brother will be with him as well. He has a wife and son… you’ll like them.” They’re tenderhearted, so Emilia will gravitate toward them for friendship. Nothing about her strikes me as the hard and brash type.

  We finally make it to the center of the house, where the offices are located as well as one of the main safe rooms. Matteo and Cristiano aren’t around, though. Instead, I find the one person I was hoping to avoid.

  “You’re back,” Violet states as her nostrils flare, the desire reflecting in her irises when they flick over my bulky frame. She stands from behind her desk and strides my way, hips swaying with each step.

  Good to see I can still elicit a reaction from her after being gone for a while. She steps closer, already moving into my personal space. I can’t breathe correctly with her like this—all I can think about is her choosing Matteo over me. I shouldn’t care, I’ve had more than enough time to move on and heal my heart, but Vendettis never do anything half-assed. We give it our all or nothing, and heartbreak isn’t secluded from that aspect.