Bound By The Past (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 7) Read online

  Copyright ©2020 Cora Reilly

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, events and places are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

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  Cover design by Hang Le

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  About This Book

  Author’s note

  Prologue

  The First Betrayal

  The Second Betrayal

  The Third Betrayal

  Part 1

  Part 2

  Part 3

  Part 4

  Part 5

  Part 6

  Part 7

  Part 8

  Part 9

  Part 10

  The Fourth Betrayal

  Part 1

  Part 2

  Part 3

  Part 4

  Part 5

  Part 6

  The Fifth Betrayal

  Part 1

  Part 2

  Part 3

  Part 4

  Part 5

  Part 6

  Part 7

  Part 8

  The Aftermath

  Part 1

  Part 2

  Other Books

  About the Author

  Glossary

  My life’s a tale of betrayal.

  I killed so many because they betrayed our cause, because they betrayed the Outfit.

  A hypocrite. A liar. A murderer.

  That’s what I am.

  Five times I betrayed the Outfit. With my blood I made a vow to our cause, swore my life to it, promised to put the Outfit first. Above all else.

  Five times I chose a woman over the good of the Outfit. I betrayed my father. My vow. My men.

  You reap what you sow.

  Would my betrayals destroy everything I swore to protect?

  On our wedding day I made a vow to stand by Dante’s side.

  In good and in bad times.

  To love him through it all.

  Growing up in the mafia, I knew the challenges in our life would be numerous. I never expected them to tear at the very base of our family, of our existence.

  Author’s note

  This book isn’t a standalone. You should read (at least) Bound By Duty before starting Bound By The Past. It is, however, recommended that you read Bound By Honor, Bound By Duty, Bound By Hatred, Bound By Temptation and Bound By Love, as well as Twisted Loyalties and Twisted Pride in advance because this book entails spoilers for all of the aforementioned books.

  Betrayal is punishable by death.

  I killed so many because they betrayed our cause, because they betrayed the Outfit.

  A hypocrite. A liar. A murderer.

  That’s what I was.

  Capo. Boss. Judge over life and death.

  That’s why I was still here, not dead for my crimes, for my betrayal.

  Five times I betrayed the Outfit. With my blood, I’d made a vow to our cause, had sworn my life to it, promised to put the Outfit first. Above all else.

  Five times I’d chosen a woman over the good of the Outfit. I had betrayed my father. My vow. My men.

  Some Capos considered themselves above the law, above failure. They couldn’t betray the cause because they were the cause. They couldn’t fail because they were without failure. I didn’t share those beliefs. A Capo wasn’t the cause in itself. The Outfit was, and I was accountable for my actions.

  And yet my betrayals remained unpunished, at least by the laws of our world. But I’d paid with every betrayal with a betrayal in turn. I’d betrayed and been betrayed. Justice in its purest form.

  You reap what you sow.

  My life was a tale of betrayal. Eventually I’d have to make sacrifices that could cost me everything if I wanted to preserve what mattered the most.

  Dante, nineteen years old

  Muffled cries made me stop in my tracks in the hallway. The wails came from the library. I followed the sound and opened the heavy wood door. Ines sat in the armchair in her favorite reading nook, a book in her lap, but I doubted she could see a single letter of the words on the pages before her. Tears stained her cheeks.

  My sister wasn’t a crier, had never been, and except for a few occasions when she’d been a young girl, I had never seen her cry. Our father had taught us to suppress any kind of emotional turmoil.

  I stepped in, making my presence known. Ines’ blue eyes flew up, her body tensing, but she relaxed when she spotted me. “Oh, it’s you.” She wiped at her tears quickly, avoiding my gaze. I closed the door before I walked over to her and sank down on the small poof she usually used to prop up her feet while reading.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain calm even as my worry and protectiveness made it difficult.

  She fumbled with the pages of her book, swallowing hard. “Father decided to whom I’ll be given in marriage.”

  Ines was sixteen, so it was time to make that decision. That Father had put it off for so long was only because it gave him leverage. The tremor in her voice raised my worry. “Pietro asked for your hand.”

  He was a good choice. He was a quiet, restrained man, unleashing his dark side only when required, like me. I had a feeling he’d keep it well contained in a marriage.

  She nodded then threw herself at me. After a moment of shock, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Ines, tell me what’s the matter. Now.”

  “He’s giving me to Jacopo Scuderi!”

  Tension radiated through my body. “What?” I growled.

  Ines sniffled, her tears soaking my collar and my throat. She didn’t stop trembling and shivering. I’d never seen her like this, but given what she’d revealed, it seemed the appropriate reaction.

  Jacopo and I had worked together often in the past, not by choice on my part. Father wanted me to work with the Scuderis seeing as they were his Consigliere’s sons, but I abhorred Jacopo deeply. He was a cruel, vengeful being that thrived on demeaning people he considered less—women, low soldiers subject to his command, and his younger brother—and while I was a cruel and vengeful man, I didn’t find satisfaction in humiliating others, least of all women.

  The few times I’d been forced to visit one of our whorehouses, I’d seen firsthand what Jacopo considered fun. I’d heard even more horror stories from his younger brother Rocco whenever he had been drunk and unable to shut his big mouth. Jacopo was a sadist, in bed and otherwise. I couldn’t imagine Ines knew the extent of his depravity, and yet she knew he was the worst choice.

  Stifling my fury, I said, “Are you sure it’s decided on? Father didn’t tell me.”

  Ines pulled back, her eyes full of misery. “It’s settled. He told me this morning right after his meeting with the Scuderis.”

  I nodded, realizing why Father had made his choice. It was because I’d refused to marry anyone but Carla. I’d defied him and he’d realized he had no way of forcing or punishing me, so he’d finally given in to his Consigliere’s demand. Father knew what kind of men the Scuderis were. He knew what kind of man Jacopo was, and yet he gave Ines to him. He’d more than once dangled my sister’s fate over my head.

  I touched Ines’ shoulder gently. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

  “He won’t change his mind. He gave the Scuderis
his word,” she whispered, her shoulders starting to shake under more sobs.

  I stood and walked out. Ines was a trophy for Jacopo. He and his father had been asking Father to give her hand in marriage to Jacopo for years.

  I headed for Father’s office, trying to remain calm. Nothing infuriated Father more than when he couldn’t draw a reaction out of me. In recent years a power shift had happened, it was gradual, but definitely there. He couldn’t punish me with pain anymore, not after years of numbing me to it. I knocked at his door, my knuckles stinging from the force of it. Barging in and demanding answers was what I really wanted to do, but Father was still Capo, still master of this house, and expected respect from everyone around.

  “Come in,” Father drawled.

  I schooled my face into a mask of calm. It wouldn’t be wise to give Father ammunition against me. Stepping inside, my eyes fell on Father who was sitting in his desk chair and looking down at his calendar. We looked very much alike—a fact people never stopped mentioning. Same cold blue eyes, blond hair, and aloof attitude. Every morning I woke, I swore to myself I’d be a better man. A better Capo. A better husband. A better father.

  “I’m trying to decide when we’ll hold both weddings. Your sister’s next year and yours the year after.” He looked up with a calculating smile. Ines was too young to marry. “Or would you prefer to wait a couple more years before marrying? You’re only nineteen. Twenty-one then. Maybe you need a bit more time to enjoy other women.”

  Carla would be nineteen in two years, one year older than Ines, and it would be unfair toward her to make her wait, and I didn’t want to. I wanted Carla. “No. I don’t need to wait.” I paused. “But I’m not here to discuss my wedding.”

  Father tilted his head in mock curiosity. “Why are you here then?”

  He knew damn well why I was here. Stifling my annoyance, I said, “To discuss Ines’ marriage with you. Jacopo isn’t someone we should consider bringing into our family.”

  “As the son of my Consigliere and your future Consigliere, it’s the expected bond. The Scuderis have been waiting for Ines. Jacopo is very eager to marry your sister. He’s been refusing every other woman so far. Rocco is already married and will certainly soon have an heir. Jacopo deserves to be rewarded for his patience.”

  I didn’t mention that Rocco already had two daughters. For my father, girls weren’t worth anything, which was why he treated Ines like a trophy to hand around. I shook my head. “He’s too old for Ines, Father. And his reputation leaves a lot to be desired. Maybe you haven’t heard the rumors but I’ve been working with Jacopo long enough to know he’s a sadist and psychopath. You can’t allow Ines to be at his mercy.”

  Father gave me a look as if I didn’t understand the first thing about life. “If Ines answers to his demands, she’ll be fine. Each of us has to make sacrifices. She should be proud that she’s given to someone of his status.”

  I regarded him, realizing he wouldn’t let me talk him out of this. “You’re making a mistake.”

  He raised his finger. “And you should remember your place, Dante. You are my heir, true, but I’m still the Capo of the Outfit, still the master of this house.”

  I swallowed my anger. I needed to be clever about this. Arguing with Father wouldn’t change a thing. I gave a terse nod.

  “You’re working with Jacopo and Rocco tomorrow. You should congratulate him.”

  “I will,” I gritted out.

  Later that day Pietro called me and asked for a meeting. I knew what this was about. Given Jacopo’s tendency to brag about everything, he’d likely told everyone about his bond to Ines.

  We met at the bar of one of our riverboat casinos for a drink. After dropping off my drink in front of me, the bartender kept his distance, sensing my dark mood.

  Pietro was a little over two years older than me and currently working in Chicago before he’d take over as Underboss of Minneapolis from his father in a few years. I was nursing my whiskey when he sank down on the stool beside me, motioning for the barkeeper to give him the same I had.

  I glanced toward him.

  His shirt was wrinkled and his dark hair all over the place. The second the tumbler sat in front of him, he grabbed it and downed it in one gulp. Then his somber eyes met mine. “Don’t let Jacopo get his hands on Ines, Dante.”

  I turned the glass around on the bar. Pietro had asked for Ines’ hand twice. As future Underboss of Minneapolis, he was a good choice. He was only six years older than her, not twelve like Jacopo, and most importantly, he wasn’t a sadist. “Why do you want Ines?” I asked him tiredly.

  He frowned. “Because I respect her. Despite her age, she knows how to carry herself. She’s proud and elegant and beautiful.”

  “And a good match.”

  It was an indisputable fact. Every man in our circles who wanted Ines would be stupid not to consider the positive effect a marriage would have on his future.

  “Of course, that too. My family wants a union with your family. But since I danced with Ines a few months ago, I knew I wanted her as my wife.” Pietro grabbed my arm, forcing me to meet his gaze. The honest concern in his eyes surprised me. It wasn’t love. He didn’t know Ines well enough for that, but he obviously cared about her. “Dante, you and I know what kind of man Jacopo is.”

  Everyone knew what kind of man Jacopo was. He got off on torture. I, too, occasionally appreciated the power rush it gave, especially if I dealt with traitors or enemies, but Jacopo enjoyed it on a sexual level, which didn’t bode well in a marriage.

  I inclined my head, trying to suppress the rage flooding my body.

  “How can you be this calm? How can you not be raging?”

  I almost smiled. My fury was bottled up deep inside where it would remain until I chose to unleash it. It had taken years to perfect my emotionless mask, now it was as impenetrable as steel. “My father is the Boss. You know it’s his decision, not mine.”

  Pietro’s eyes were fierce. “But you disapprove of it.”

  Of course I did. How could I not? “Ines is my sister,” I said merely. I wouldn’t say more in public, even if I liked Pietro.

  “Can you stand by and watch her being given to a monster?”

  “Jacopo is cocky and arrogant. It might get him killed eventually.”

  Pietro ordered another drink for himself while I still twisted my first in my hands. I’d never enjoyed getting drunk. The loss of control and inhibitions abhorred me deeply.

  “Eventually could be too late for Ines.”

  I emptied my whiskey. “They won’t marry until next summer…”

  “Next summer? She’s only seventeen then. Won’t they wait until she’s of age?”

  The barkeeper held up the bottle but I shook my head. I didn’t want to get a buzz. “One year is a long time, Pietro.” I met his gaze.

  He searched my eyes, trying to make sense of my words. I wouldn’t get more explicit than that.

  “You can trust me. I can help.”

  I gave him a cold smile, not saying anything. I wouldn’t spill my guts to him, or share more than I already had. Pietro was one of the few men I trusted to some extent but definitely not enough to tell him more than was absolutely necessary. “I don’t need your help.”

  Rocco and Jacopo waited beside the car when Enzo and I arrived. Jacopo smiled broadly, his head even higher and his chest puffed up. I gave him and his brother a sharp nod. If I uttered a word now, it wouldn’t be anywhere close to the sophisticated cold I was famous for. Enzo shook their hands but from the way his mouth thinned when he touched Jacopo it was obvious what he thought of him. Few people liked Jacopo. I didn’t trust any of them.

  Without a word, I slipped into the backseat. Enzo took the steering wheel as usual.

  “You’re in the back, Squirt,” Jacopo said to Rocco whose ears turned red. In the past, his entire face had turned the same color but he’d learned to school his features over the years.

  Rocco sank down beside me, silent but gla
ring daggers at the back of his brother’s head. Their animosity went beyond sibling rivalry. It was pure, undiluted hatred.

  “Why do you still call him by that name?” Enzo asked in his low rumble as he started the car.

  “Didn’t I tell you the story?”

  “You told it to everyone repeatedly,” Rocco said quietly.

  I gritted my teeth. “Indeed.”

  Jacopo threw his brother and me a cruel smile through the rearview mirror. “It is too good a story to forget.”

  I hadn’t been present when the name was born. But the story still made the rounds, mostly due to Jacopo bringing it up as soon as it died down. Rocco had been fourteen when Jacopo and his similarly depraved friends had taken him to a whorehouse for the first time. Apparently, Jacopo ordered two dancers to give Rocco very intense lap dances, which made him come in his pants. Naturally, that wasn’t the end of Rocco’s humiliation. Jacopo and his friends then forced Rocco to undress, to wipe his cum on a cracker and eat it. They probably would have found more ways to torture him if Giovanni Aresco, our Underboss here in Chicago, hadn’t intervened.

  “We have a task to focus on and don’t have time to dwell in the past,” I clipped, ensuring silence in the remaining ride to our target.

  Enzo parked a block away from the fabric building and went scouting the area with Rocco. My father disapproved of me taking part in attacks but I insisted. Still, I was rarely allowed to be at the forefront.

  The moment Jacopo and I were alone, leaning against the car, he let out a sigh and smiled in a way that suggested he didn’t know why humans used the gesture but he’d adopted it. “Your father made me wait for a long time. Even my brother is already married, and I had to wait years for your sister. But she’ll make it worthwhile for me, I’m sure.” The smile turned darker, leering.

  Rage boiled over, past my ironclad defenses. I rammed my elbow into his throat. My knife was right under my jacket. A jab was all it would take to save Ines from a cruel fate—a fate no woman deserved.