Dirty Mafia Sinner (Dirty Mafia Kingdom #2)

Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

RILEY

Chasing extremes leads nowhere.

If I’d listened to logic, I wouldn’t be hiding in an apartment dating back to Roman times and cursing a man who redefines extreme.

An engaged man.

Did he think I’d be okay with that? Or was he hoping I’d never find out?

“Stronzo,” I mutter, walking over to look out the kitchen window while making a note to look up the definition—though I hope it means asshole.

Luna is on the street below, clinging to a handsome man in a suit like a koala to a tall tree. He struggles to peel her off, glancing around, clearly uncomfortable with her affection. But then she whispers something in his ear, and suddenly he’s kissing her, his reservations carried away on the breeze.

I grin. Dante Lucchese doesn’t stand a chance.

My heart pinches.

But I’ve learned a crucial lesson. At my weakest and most vulnerable, I sought refuge in the shadow of Alessandro’s power. Now, at my strongest and most grounded—having fully recognized and embracing the darker sides that make me who I am—I stand with my feet firmly planted. Heartbroken or not, I’ll never be the shattered woman I was back in New York. It took a kidnapping to set me free, a lying mafioso to show me what unconditional love really is, and the turmoil of the last few months to come to terms with myself.

Do I still love him? Yes. Will I survive without him? Absolutely—surviving is what I do, right? Though I fear this time, my broken heart will never fully heal.

The apartment door bursts open, and I jump and spin.

Luna enters in a flourish.

I look past her.

“Chill. I’m alone. Dante thinks I’m visiting an elderly aunt.” She dumps a bag on the round table and begins unpacking trays of food. I move beside her and place enough food to feed an army inside the apartment refrigerator. The bottle of wine I open immediately and pour two glasses.

I’ve no doubt that, if it hadn’t been for Luna, Alessandro would have located me by now. But Renzo was right, hiding in Italy on the next island over, was a clever decision. I keep a low profile and am careful while walking the small cobblestone streets when I do venture outside.

It’s been two weeks. Tomorrow, I’ll take a huge risk by heading to a nearby resort, where I’ll use a phone to call my grandparents. My grandparents shouldn’t be worrying about me. I’m also curious if Renzo was right—did his deceitful twin search Marietta, thinking I’d run home? Did Alessandro terrify my grandparents with his menacing glares and demands? Are they now questioning how I ever got involved with a monster like him? No one dares deny him anything.

But I’m denying him me.

Feel that, stranzo?

Luna removes the tray from my hands. “You look ready to murder that meatball platter.” She secures it in the refrigerator, and then turns toward me, her eyes filled with animation. “I’ve got news. But you’ll want to finish your wine first.”

My eyebrows lift.

She tugs my elbow and forces me to sit. My stomach knots as she takes a seat across from me. “Dante’s flying to New England next week for a Beneventi wedding. Did you know?”

I reach for my wineglass. “About his wedding? No.”

“Evidently, it was a huge secret.”

Understatement meet cruel reality.

“Her father’s an influential politician. The Eleven are thrilled with the arrangement.”

“I’ll blow up the balloons,” I mutter.

She rambles on, mindless. “Dante says it’s a love match despite—”

I hold up my hand. “No.”

“It’s not?”

Not unless he lied about loving me. “I said no because I … can’t …”

“Is it because of the age gap? He’s what, thirty-eight to her twenty-three?” She makes a face. “Dante refuses my advances because he’s much older. He treats me like a baby, even when I do everything imaginable to make him see I’m not.”

I don’t ask her to define imaginable, and Dante didn’t exactly refuse her advances less than ten minutes ago.

“Wouldn’t it be romantic if Alessandro swooped in here, apologized for being a dick, then brought you to the wedding?”

“What?” I screech. But my racing mind quickly catches up to everything she’s said. Age gap? Who is thirty-eight?

“Wow, Alessandro really pissed you off, huh?”

I place the wineglass on the table. “Luna, this is really important. Which Beneventi is getting married?”

She laughs. “Did you believe it was Renzo?”

“Who, Luna?”

“Our new capo di tutti capi is marrying Alessia Amato.”

“Sebastiano Beneventi?”

“The one and only. Poor girl.”

The kitchen closes in on me. “Not Alessandro? You certain?”

She gives me a puzzled look. “There was a rumor … but I’m positive. The announcement was made the day after Don Lucchese’s funeral.”

I’m overwhelmed by it all. He’s the most terrifying man I know, yet a dutiful son caught in an arranged marriage. He’s engaged but in love with me. And now, for reasons I can’t comprehend, Fate has spared us.

Alessandro isn’t getting married—his father is.

What does that mean for us?

Luna glances at the small decorative clock on the wall. “Shit, I’m late. We don’t need my father asking questions about where I’ve been.”

“Thank you for risking so much for me,” I tell her.

She flashes me a smile, looking like a girl on the verge of womanhood. “Women must always stick together, don’t you think?”

I consider everything I’ve been through, dead canaries and all. How much easier life would have been if this had been the case. “Absolutely.”

“See you tomorrow,” she says, and races off in a flurry of movement.

The apartment feels empty without her presence.

I move to the window and sip my wine, watching her step onto the street and quickly disappear toward the bus stop. She’s carefree in a way I’ll never be yet, like me, in love with a mafioso she never should have encouraged.

As I turn, my elbow hits the window frame, spilling wine onto the floor. Sighing, I perch the glass on the sill, grab a dish towel from the sink, and clean up the mess. After rinsing my hands, I return to the window.

I lift my glass, but movement below catches my eye—a man stepping out of an expensive car. He pauses and looks up toward the window.

And in that moment, my entire world turns upside down.

He doesn’t have to say the word this time.

I’m already on it.

Run.

He’s come for me.

Did he see me? Does it even matter? He’s here, outside the apartment, miles from where he should be. I don’t need to ask why—I’ve been preparing for this moment.

I grab my prepacked bag, containing clothes, essentials, and the money Renzo gave me, then dash to the bedroom at the back of the apartment. Climbing out onto the slate overhang, I carefully inch sideways along its pitch, wary of the long drop below. Reaching a flattened rooftop, I scramble to my feet and break into a run.

Questions race through my mind. How did he find me? What does he want? Can I ever forgive him? His distrust led to my kidnapping, yet he was the one who deceived me all along. I had confided my darkest secret to him—how my father’s secret engagement devastated me almost as much as his murder. Knowing this, why would Alessandro keep me in the dark about his own engagement?

Because he’s a possessive control freak who never wanted to let you go.

Because he knew he’d lose you.

I reach the edge of a neighboring balcony. Unlike the villa’s balcony, this one is built from stone with a flat granite floor. More importantly, a winding staircase of the same material descends to the backstreet below.

Pausing, I glance over my shoulder, but there’s no sign of him. I frown. Chasing me used to be one of his favorite games. Did I misread the situation? Has he not come for me?

Disappointment weighs heavily on me, but I shake it off. No, Riley, that’s not the right way to think about this. I push aside the swirling emotions and focus on making my way to the street.

Once there, I head left and follow the side street parallel to the one leading to the bus stop. As I draw closer, I turn the corner and slip into the shadows, waiting for the next bus to arrive.

Five minutes later, with my heart in my throat, I board a nearly empty bus. I did it. I’ve escaped him—again. So why am I crying?

The driver watches me with a look of helpless concern. I offer him a smile I don’t feel, then wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and take a seat at the front.

How much sadness can a person endure? My mother, my father, even my undeserving best friend—all gone. I had no control over losing them. This feels different. Trembling, I reconsider my decision. Maybe I should at least hear him out and offer him a chance to explain, even though he denied me the same consideration?

The bus driver’s muttered exclamation cuts through my thoughts. “Cosa sta facendo questo pazzo?”

I glance up to find the bus isn’t moving.

The reason why stands in the middle of the street and blocks the road, arms crossed like he’s daring the driver to run him over.

Our eyes connect through the windshield.

“Drive,” I tell the man, as fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and I’ve already chosen the latter.

The driver honks the horn and gestures animatedly.

Alessandro’s glare could melt steel. I hold my breath as he charges forward and rounds the bus to the side door. Fist tight, he pounds on it, demanding entry.

“Non vengo pagato abbastanza per questo,” the man declares before jumping from his seat and disappearing down the aisle. Leaving me to tame the monster.

“Riley,” Alessandro bellows, his voice cutting through the dull hum of the bus. “Open the goddamn door.”

Slowly, I slide out of my seat and move toward him, facing the storm head-on. “This entire time, you were engaged?”

“Let me explain, baby.” His voice softens, pleading.

I stiffen at the word. “Don’t baby me.”

“I’m not fucking engaged, okay?” Desperation clings to his words, and I fight the pull to give in. “I never wanted to be. I just needed to find a way out.”

“You lied.”

“I kept you in the dark,” he growls. “There’s a difference.”

“Not in my mind.”

We lock eyes through the grimy bus window, tension thick enough to drown us both. Behind us, a horn blares impatiently, but the world outside feels miles away compared to the battle raging between us.

“Open the door, Riley,” he urges, quieter now, raw. “Or do you plan on hashing this out here?”

I bite my lip, hard enough to taste blood. A part of me wants him to suffer, to feel the same sharp hurt he’s inflicted on me. But another part still hopes, and wonders if this is it—the moment when love conquers everything.

Right. Just overlook the fact he’s a mafioso, a cold-blooded killer, and a possessive lover with control issues.

But he’s also the man I love.

I sigh, the weight of my decision settling in my chest. If I open this door, I know my future won’t be painted in rainbows or butterflies.

He presses his hand against the glass, his voice breaking through the fog of my thoughts. “I didn’t want to lose you. I won’t lose you. Capisci?”

The ache in his tone twists something inside me. Reaching behind, I tug the switch, the door creaking open—and sealing my fate.

Before I can process it, he’s there, scooping me up and pulling me into his arms, holding me so tight it hurts.

“Thank fuck,” he breathes, and I let myself get lost in the chaos of him, knowing it’s the only place I truly belong.