Kiss Of Death: A Dark Mafia Romance

4

Una

When I open my eyes, blinding light assaults my vision. I try to throw my hand over my face, but I can’t. Glancing to the side, I see my hand is bound beside my head, the leather cuff attached to a chain several inches long. My other arm is the same, and both are attached to the bed frame beneath me. Fucking great. Nero. That’s the last thing I remember. The room I’m in has no windows and a pretty sturdy-looking door, so I’m guessing I’m in a basement somewhere. There’s another door half ajar across from me, and I can hear the slow drip of a tap coming from it. My yoga pants have been removed and replaced with a pair of sleep shorts, and the blood-stained shirt is gone. A fresh dressing covers my thigh.

A heavy groan accompanies the opening door as Gio walks in. His usual serious expression masks his face. “How’s your leg?”

“Fuck you, Gio. Where’s Nero?”

He huffs a laugh as he shakes his head. Disapproval taints the air, and I’m sure Nero’s most loyal guy hates me.

“He’s busy.” Of course he is. Gio takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and places his hand on my thigh, inspecting my leg. The second his skin makes contact with mine, I go rigid tense. Kill! Kill! Kill! That sole instinct roars through my head, the impulse so strong and instinctive it hurts not to act on it. I yank against the restraints and the leather bites into my wrists. His hand finally leaves my leg and I sigh in relief, my body going limp.

“How long are you going to keep me tied up like this?” I

His eyes meet mine. “Until I know you aren’t going to kill everyone in the building.”

“Permanently then.”

“Until Nero comes down here and handles you personally.”

“You say that like I won’t kill him.”

His eyes flick to my stomach. “I’d say you currently have the advantage in that fight, wouldn’t you?”

I snort. “You give him too much credit.”

His brows pull together in a frown. “You should have told him.”

Anger spikes through me at his silent judgement. “I don’t owe him shit.” Regardless of how I feel about Nero, of what he became to me, the fact is: he blackmailed me. He knowingly put me in a situation that placed me right in the crosshairs. I took the theoretical bullet for him. And somewhere along the line he made me feel something for him. In all the chaos, he managed to earn my loyalty without me ever really realizing I’d given it to him, but this is different. This baby is something that I cannot explain to him because I can’t even explain it to myself.

“We could have helped you.”

“I don’t need your fucking help, Giovanni. You forget who I am.” My rage rises like a living, breathing thing. Even the cold killer in me is protective of this child when she should be nothing but detached. I’m confused, but driven by instinct and I will kill anyone who tries to harm us.

Gio gets up and steps away from me. “I do not forget, Bacio Della Morte.” His eyes become hard and unforgiving as he pulls a syringe from his pocket. I jerk against the restraints and snarl as he brings the needle to my skin.

“I’m going to kill you, Gio. Painfully. Slowly.”

A small smile touches his lips before the needle pierces my skin and the plunger depresses. He walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him. And then, everything goes black.

When I wake up again, my hands are no longer bound. My shirt is pushed up and the remnants of something wet is smeared over my stomach. The lack of pain in my leg suggests I’ve been dosed with painkillers. I push to my feet and stagger slightly as the effects of the sedative cling to me. My eyes take in every inch of the room as I cross it, desperately planning. The other door leads to a bathroom, as suspected. It’s basic. A shower, sink, and toilet. I turn the shower on, strip out of my clothes, and step inside. Hot water washes away what feels like weeks of grime and dirt, tinging the water a shade of red as dried blood—both my own and others—leaves my skin. I pull the dressing from my thigh and inspect the wound. It looks better, less angry and swollen. Gio must have given me antibiotics. As I stand under the spray, I start to form a plan in my mind. For now, I will wait and see if Nero makes a move. The problem with him is he’s frighteningly unpredictable, even to me. In a day or two I will have a clearer picture of what’s going on.

Once I’m clean I get out and wrap the towel around me. And then it begins. The boredom. The pacing. After a time, the walls start to feel like they’re closing in on me and it’s enough to make me want to tear my hair out.

Eventually I hear the click of the lock on the door, and I ready myself to attack, but the second it opens a crack, a gun is pointed at me. “Didn’t think I’d come in here unarmed, did you?” Gio asks. “You did threaten to kill me.”

I smile coldly. “I don’t threaten.”

He laughs and signals at someone behind him. Tommy steps into the room, carrying a brown paper bag and some folded clothes. I can’t help but smile when I see him.

“Irish,” I say. A shy smile pulls at his lips and he holds the bag out in front of him, stretching as though trying to stay as far away from me as possible. I roll my eyes and snatch the bag. He jumps. “I knocked you out one time, Tommy.”

“Look, you’re scary on your best day. But pregnant? Hormones will make even a sane woman crazy.”

I glare at him.

“I swear you have no self-preservation whatsoever, kid,” Gio sighs.

Tommy offers me a small shrug. “Sorry, Una, but it’s true.”

“If you were anyone else…” I’ve always been fond of Tommy. Maybe it’s because he’s Nero’s soft spot, or perhaps it’s because he’s managed to stay relatively innocent in this world of corruption. Either way, he’s kind of like a puppy that you couldn’t bear to hurt. He puts the clothes on the bed and turns around, walking back towards the door.

“Thought you were his valued right hand, Gio. But Nero’s got you looking after me like an errand boy.”

His lips twitch. “We both know you’d kill an errand boy.” The man is nearly impossible to rile, and not for the first time, I wish I was dealing with Jackson.

“True. Where’s Nero?”

“He’s still busy.” His mouth presses into a tight line. And that expression tells me something. Whatever is going on, Gio doesn’t approve of it. He backs away and the door slams shut.

What would Nero be doing that Gio doesn’t like? That’s a stupid question. Everything. Nero is the mafia bad boy, bound by no sense of honor or duty. I’ve seen enough of their dynamic to know that Gio is the polar opposite. He’s all about duty and loyalty. He just happens to be loyal to Nero.

Option one, Nero is going against the rest of the mafia and Gio doesn’t like it. Option two, Nero is going against me. The mafia are all about their women and children, so it stands to reason, Gio wouldn’t like that either. Shit, I don’t know. I’m stuck here, trying to analyze the ethics of men who have none and hoping that the most soulless of them all is trying to help me instead of kill me.