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

  Challenge and fear flickered in Jacopo’s eyes. “You want to kill me because of a cunt?”

  I tightened my hold. One slash and his blood would coat my hands. It would feel good, better than any kill before him. “Careful,” I said quietly. “This cunt is my sister, and you’d do well to remember that I will be your Capo in a few years. Show respect.”

  “And I’ll be your Consigliere. It’s always been that way. Our fathers are friends. You can’t kill me.”

  It was true. As long as my father lived, I couldn’t kill Jacopo, and even then it would be difficult to explain to my men. Scuderi was a name that carried power, that belonged to the Outfit. They were loyal. A good reason was necessary to dispose of one of them, and protecting my sister from marital rape and torture wouldn’t be considered one. The mere idea that Ines would have to suffer under Jacopo’s sadism made my blood boil.

  I released him. All my life I’d worked to become Capo, to follow in my father’s footsteps. I was meant to rule over the Outfit, and I would. Nothing would stop my rise in power, least of all Jacopo Scuderi. I stepped back with a cold smile. “I won’t kill you, you are right.”

  His smile turned more triumphant, certain in his inherited immunity. Steps rang out when Rocco and Enzo turned the corner, done scouting the area.

  “All clear?” I asked.

  They nodded, and I gave the sign to attack. As expected, we found six Bratva soldiers inside the fabric building, guarding their last drug delivery. We split up into pairs of two as we tried to eliminate our opponents as quickly and effectively as possible. Jacopo and I ended up in a smaller storage hall with three of the higher ranking Bratva soldiers, while Rocco and Enzo were busy dealing with the rest in the main storage.

  When I’d struck down the first opponent, I advanced into the room and ducked behind a crate close to my next opponent. Jacopo stayed closer to the door, off to the left and dealt with enemy number three.

  I could tell that my opponent was getting impatient and nervous. His aim was off and he kept raising his head to look toward the door for a way to escape. Would he really risk a dash for freedom? It was futile.

  I aimed calmly, my arm steady as I waited for his next mistake. He finally raised his head again and I sent a bullet through the Bratva bastard’s head, sending his brain flying everywhere. He tumbled sideways to the ground, dropping his gun, a Russian model.

  Jacopo was still in a shooting match with his opponent. My eyes were drawn to the Bratva gun. I tugged one of my leather gloves out of my jacket and slipped it on before I picked up the discarded gun. Then I raised my own Barretta and shot the last Bratva man with it. Jacopo whirled around with a triumphant grin, which died when he saw me pointing the Russian gun at him. “A marriage to you won’t be my sister’s fate.”

  He jerked up his gun at the same time as I pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through his left eye, throwing his head back. His body fell backward. For a moment silence reigned around me, an eerie nothingness that resonated in my ears.

  Betrayal.

  I’d killed an Outfit soldier. A man who was loyal to the cause, to my father, to the Outfit.

  A sharp intake of breath made my eyes dart toward the door, where Rocco Scuderi stood. One look at his expression and I knew he’d witnessed my murder of his brother. For several moments neither of us moved. I was still pointing the Russian gun at the place where Jacopo’s head had been.

  Rocco’s face morphed from shock to… relief.

  Rocco looked relieved, no, ecstatic to see his older brother dead. There had been no love between the two but this unguarded show of joy came as a surprise. I pointed my gun straight at Rocco’s skull but he hardly seemed to care. With wide eyes, he walked closer to his dead brother, a disturbing smile on his face. He spit on the corpse then kicked it hard several times.

  I lowered my gun slowly, narrowing my eyes at the display of emotionality.

  “See! See! You got what you deserve!” he raged, his head red and perspiring. “You got it!”

  Breathing harshly, he turned around to me. My gun was leveled at his chest by now, as I was trying to decide if I could risk killing him as well. Rocco Scuderi wasn’t a good man, but he was as loyal as his brother, maybe even more so, and he didn’t share his brother’s sadism, at least he hadn’t openly displayed it until now.

  Rocco’s gaze dropped to the gun in my hand, the Russian model that had ended his brother’s life, realizing it could end his as well. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said.

  I moved closer to him, stepping over the dead Russian in the process. I didn’t take my eyes off Rocco. “You won’t?” I asked coldly. “Honor dictates that you tell your father the truth about who killed his heir, your vow binds you to reveal any betrayal of the Outfit to your Capo, my father.”

  Rocco grimaced, his eyes shining with hatred. “For as long as I can remember, I wanted him dead. I would have killed him myself…” He shook his head. “I’m grateful that you did it. I’ll forever be grateful, Dante. I’ll take the secret to the grave with me, I swear it.”

  “Why?” I stopped a few steps from him, the gun still trained on his heart.

  “Because you gave me everything I ever wanted. Jacopo is dead, and I’ll be Consigliere.”

  I tilted my head. “True. You’ll take over for your father eventually.”

  Rocco frowned. “If he allows it. Jacopo was his favorite child.”

  Jacopo’s brain decorated the bare concrete floor. “I can’t trust anyone with a secret of that proportion, you certainly understand.”

  Rocco’s gaze became frantic. I could practically see his thoughts racing in his head. He took a step closer and I raised my gun higher. “Dante, I’m going to give my father poison, something that’s difficult to detect unless you’re looking for it specifically. Something that’ll make his end look like a heart attack. He’s had one before and it’s only natural for him to suffer another one after his heir, his favorite child is cruelly killed by a Bratva bastard. You’ll convince your father that I was devastated and that my father’s death was a natural cause and I’ll convince everyone the enemy killed my brother. That way I’m not the only one guarding a secret.”

  Rocco had the potential to be a useful Consigliere, more so than Jacopo could ever have been. His father was only marginally better than Jacopo and too strongly entwined with my father. If I wanted a gradual power shift, I’d have to change the key players now. Killing Rocco would raise suspicions and leave me with Scuderi Senior to deal with for a decade or longer. I needed to diminish my father’s power now, in subtle but effective ways. “Wait a week or two. Let him die after the funeral.”

  Rocco nodded, relief blatant on his face. “Thank you, Dante. You won’t regret it. I’ll be a loyal Consigliere, if you want me.”

  “You’ll be Consigliere when I claim power, that’s my promise to you.” I paused. “But if you ever mention this event again, I’ll finish what I didn’t today. You’ll take this secret to your grave either way.”

  “Nobody will find out from me.” Rocco regarded me with admiration and respect. I couldn’t detect deceit in his demeanor. I lowered the gun and put it back down beside the Russian.

  “You need to move him to the side a bit so the angle is right,” Rocco said.

  He was right. I dragged the Russian to the left then shoved my glove back into my pocket. Rocco gave a satisfied nod.

  Enzo stormed inside, looking disheveled. His eyes landed on Jacopo. “Fuck. The fuckers got him?”

  I nodded. “He was struck by a Russian bullet. We will have to avenge him. The Bratva needs to pay with blood,” I said firmly.

  Rocco smiled grimly. “They will for killing my brother.”

  A shared lie. I didn’t trust Rocco, but I trusted in his hatred for his brother and his eagerness to become Consigliere. Both would ensure his silence… for the time being.

  One betrayal was always followed by another. It would take years for me to realize it.

  After
a late-night meeting with my father, the old Scuderi, and our Captains, I finally headed up to my room. I wasn’t sure if Father really believed that Jacopo had been shot so shortly after I’d found out he was to marry Ines. I had a feeling he knew of my betrayal but chose to ignore it. Or maybe he’d hold it over my head later. I wasn’t sure of his motives. He had only one heir, me, and he and Mother were too old for another child. He was bound to me like I was bound to him if I wanted to keep the respect of the Outfit. Patricide was something that wouldn’t be accepted in our traditional circles.

  On my way to my bedroom, I stopped in front of Ines’ door. I rapped my knuckles against the wood.

  “Dante?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Come in.”

  I pushed the door open, slipped in and closed it. Ines stood in front of her window, already dressed for bed in a long nightgown, her long blonde hair trailing down her back. Jacopo’s disgusting words of what he’d do to her flashed through my mind, followed by the grim satisfaction that he would never touch an inch of my sister.

  “I wanted to tell you…” I said but trailed off when Ines turned around to me. She knew Jacopo was dead. The utter relief shone on her face. “You aren’t supposed to listen in on meetings, Ines. Father will punish you.”

  Father expected me to punish her as well, but I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t hit her, or hurt her in some other way. He’d never tortured her as he had me, but he hit her and treated her like she was less. My refusal to do the same infuriated him.

  Ines rushed toward me and flung herself into my arms, hugging me tightly. “I’m so happy, so happy he’s dead. It’s horrid of me to be happy about something like that, but I am. I could dance from joy. I prayed every day since I found out about the marriage that he’d die, and now my wish came true. I know it was you. I know you killed him so he couldn’t hurt me.”

  “Ines,” I hissed in warning. “What are you talking about?”

  She raised her blue eyes filled with gratefulness. “I know it was you. Don’t lie to me. I know you did it to save me from him.”

  I didn’t say anything because Ines knew me too well. No matter what I said, it wouldn’t change her mind.

  “Thank you for saving me. Thank you, Dante. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Tears filled her eyes again, and my chest tightened. She rested her forehead against my chest, releasing a shuddering breath. “Thank you for killing him.”

  “Ines,” I rasped. “Shhh. Nobody must know. Jacopo was killed by the Bratva, all right?”

  She pulled back, smiling softly. “Carla is so lucky to become your wife. If she knew how honorable you are, she would stop worrying so much.”

  My brows drew together. “Carla’s worried about marrying me?”

  Ines and Carla had been friends for as long as I could remember, which was why I knew Carla despite her low status as only second daughter of a Captain—according to my father. The knowledge that they talked about me behind my back didn’t sit well with me. I hadn’t started noticing Carla until a year ago when I’d taken her home after she’d visited our home. It was inappropriate but Ines hadn’t felt well enough to join us. The thirty-minute drive during rush hour had forced us to talk and her soft lullaby voice as she talked to me about mundane things like stitching or cooking had given me a feeling of calm. While calm always reflected on my outside, true calm on the inside had eluded me. I’d started paying closer attention to her. She was beautiful but very shy about it, naturally submissive, kind and religious, almost pious. She was good in a way I strived to be every morning when I swore not to become like my father and yet failed to be already at breakfast when I entertained thoughts of how to remove the old man without losing the Outfit’s respect. If anyone could bring out whatever good there was in me, then it was someone like Carla.

  Ines smiled. “You are hard to read, and quite frankly scary for people who don’t know you, so… everyone except for me.”

  “She agreed to marry me.”

  “Her father agreed, and any Captain would be insane not to agree if he could marry his daughter off to the future Boss of the Outfit.”

  I stiffened. “If Carla doesn’t want me—”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what is it you’re saying, Ines? Tell me.”

  She lowered her arms, her smile falling. “Don’t—” She swallowed. “Don’t sound like him. You scare me when you do.”

  I released a low breath and touched her arm lightly. “You don’t have any reason to be scared of me and neither does Carla. But I need to know if she doesn’t want to marry me, if she isn’t attracted to me.”

  Ines shook her head. “Of course, Carla wants to marry you. Almost all the girls are attracted to you, even if you act like you don’t notice. Your aloofness is driving them crazy. You should hear the speculations making the rounds. It’s cringe worthy. Even Carla sometimes falls trap to them.”

  “What rumors?”

  Ines bit her lip. “I’d rather not say.”

  “Ines,” I said firmly.

  “Honestly,” Ines said, flushing. “I’d rather not say.”

  “I need to know the rumors making the rounds about me, especially if Carla buys into them.”

  Ines looked away. “It’s making the rounds that you’re so obsessed with work and so untouched by human emotion that you don’t require any kind of physical closeness, which is why some people believe you’re…” Ines cringed.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “…you’re a virgin. Carla actually asked me if you’re saving yourself for marriage.”

  I stared at my sister. Her cheeks were red. She covered her mouth with her palm and laughed, eyes crinkling with amusement. Her shoulders shook. “Sorry.”

  This was very typical for our society, especially for our women. They tried to spin stories around me to make me out to be some kind of dream-worthy hero when I was anything but.

  “I know you’re not, which is what I told Carla—”

  “You know?” I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. While I wasn’t entirely comfortable discussing my sexuality with my sister, her certainty intrigued me.

  She blinked, lowering her hand. “You are?” Her shock made the corner of my mouth twitch. I only looked at her and slowly her face morphed to confusion. “You’re toying with me.”

  I was, but it was good to see the weight of the last few days fall off her.

  She shook her head. “You can’t be. Why would you be? If I could choose the person and even enjoy it like men do, then I wouldn’t wait either.” Her eyes widened. “I’ll wait of course. You know I will. It’s not like it’s something I’m looking forward to.”

  She grimaced and turned her back to me. “I’m sorry. You should go now.”

  I touched her shoulder. “Ines, calm down. I understand. You don’t have to fear my reaction. I’m not Father.”

  She nodded slowly and peered up.

  I felt compelled to give her a bit of the truth. “You are right, I’m not saving myself for marriage. Even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t be allowed in our circles. My first experience wasn’t by my choice nor did I enjoy it. As is habit, our father like every father in the Outfit takes his son to a whorehouse and pays for his first woman. I was very young, and would have preferred choosing a woman for myself.”

  Ines turned to me slowly, her face shifting to compassion.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me. You are right, as a man, I have the chance to enjoy myself before marriage, but marriage doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy yourself too. Pietro is a good man.”

  “Dante!” Ines cried and pointed at the door. “Now you really must leave.”

  I walked out and she followed, her fingers gripping the edge of the door tightly as she closed it until only a sliver of her face peeked out. “Will Father allow me to marry Pietro?”

  “Do you want to marry Pietro?”

  “He’s good looking.” She swallowed. “He’s a good man?”

  He was
a Made Man. “He’ll be good to you.”

  “Then I want to marry him.”

  I nodded. “You will.”

  After breakfast, I went into Father’s office. Mother was there as well. She wrung her hands. “People consider it bad luck.”

  “What do they consider bad luck?” I asked as I stepped in.

  “That Jacopo died so soon after your father agreed to give Ines to him. She could be cursed.”

  Mother’s superstition astonished me, even after all this time.

  Father’s eyes pierced me. “A curse requires a higher power having a hand in Jacopo’s end, but it wasn’t God who struck him down, right, Dante?”

  “Right. The Bratva isn’t any more heaven-sent than we are.”

  Father’s smile was stiff, his eyes reptile-like in their scrutiny of me.

  “I worry—” Mother began.

  “Worry about clothes and stitching, not about things beyond your understanding,” Father said.

  Mother nodded and scurried away.

  “Pietro asked for Ines’ hand twice. Even this ridiculous curse rumor won’t dissuade him.”

  “I have other offers I need to take into consideration as well.”

  I stepped close to the desk. Maybe he was trying to punish me through Ines once more. I’d not allow it. “Say yes to Pietro.”

  His eyes flashed with anger. “Careful.”

  “A king without an heir reigns over a kingdom doomed to fall. I’m willing to risk the plunge. Are you?”

  It was the only threat I’d utter. Father held my gaze, trying to gauge my seriousness then he smiled stiffly. “Pietro is the best choice on the table anyway. Why don’t you tell him the good news? He can have Ines next year. We’d set the wedding date for August.”

  “Father, Ines will be only seventeen then.”

  “And marriage age and age of consent are sixteen in Minnesota where she’ll live with Pietro. I expect him to move to Minneapolis and prepare to take over from his father in the next couple of years.”

  “Do you expect me to take over as Capo soon after my wedding to Carla as well?” Of course, I knew the answer. My pleasant question was meant to provoke.