Stolen Queen (Dynasty of Deception #4)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Matteo

I stand at the edge of the D’Amato living room, my eyes scanning the tense faces gathered there. The air's thick with barely concealed hostility. Vincenzo Rinella sits looking annoyed while his innocent eighteen-year-old daughter, Ava, wears a perfect mask of piety.

My cousin Elio's absence looms large. He’s the head of the D’Amato family and this meeting is to start the process of a business agreement made eight years ago—his marriage to Ava Rinella.

I catch Lana’s, Elio’s sister’s, eye across the room. She’s looking peeved, although she’s frequently irritated by something or another.

Vicenzo’s eyes narrow. "Where's Elio? Why is he disrespecting me?"

I force a smile, but it may look like a smirk. Sometimes, I find all this Mafia bravado and old-fashioned traditions silly. "Urgent matters required his attention elsewhere. He’s been looking forward to this meeting, I assure you.” I actually have no fucking idea where Elio is. It’s not like him to blow off a meeting, especially with another leader of a Family like Vincenzo Rinella.

Lana moves closer, her voice cool and steady. "My brother sends his apologies. He’ll be here shortly." She’s lying too. She has no idea where Elio is either. But we all play our part.

I glance at Ava, something I really should stop doing. She sits quietly beside her father, a vision of grace and poise. Her raven hair cascades over her shoulders, framing a face of beauty and perfection. And her gray eyes… that’s what draws me the most. She radiates innocence, but her eyes hint at something deep and mysterious. Like there’s an ember burning inside her wanting to grow into a full-fledged inferno.

She's dressed demurely in a white dress I'm sure her parents made her wear to look pure. She doesn't need a white dress to show off her innocence. She's the epitome of naivety. And something about her brings out a fierce need to protect her. But she’s not mine to protect, so I tamp down on the urge.

Ava catches me looking at her and offers a small, polite smile. I give her a reassuring nod. I’ve never thought much of her father, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she saw her upcoming nuptials as a way to escape him. She’s lucky that Elio is a good man, at least to women. He’ll show her respect as the lady of the home. And clearly, she was raised to be a good Mafia wife. They’ll be perfect for each other.

So why the fuck am I agitated by this arrangement? She’s not even my type. Not that I have a type. I’m not a man who has relationships. My type is any woman who is ready, willing, and able to fuck and then move on.

Ava is the opposite. I doubt anyone has told her about sex. Good Lord, what a surprise that will be when Elio consummates their marriage. Envy fills me at the idea of Elio’s hands running over Ava’s porcelain skin, sinking into her virgin pussy.

I shake my head, trying to clear away dangerous thoughts. She's Elio's woman, off-limits in more ways than one.

The sound of the door opening gets my attention, and I’m thankful because these thoughts could get me killed.

“That’s probably Elio. I’ll let him know we’re here.” Lana hurries to the foyer.

“It’s about fucking time,” Vincenzo grumbles.

“How about I refill your drink?” I say, doing my best to appease the asshole.

“How about you?—”

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Elio enters the room, his gaze going to Ava. He inventories her, but not with the eyes of a man appreciating a woman, which is a little surprising. I figured he’d be pleased that she is pretty, and while innocent, she has a body made for fucking.

“Ava, it’s lovely to meet you,” he says to her, all charm and good graces.

She smiles, but I can see she’s operating solely on duty. “You too, Mr. D’Amato.”

“Please, call me Elio.”

They chat for a moment, and Ava shows off her intelligence and poise. She’ll make a good wife. I'm surprised that Elio isn't showing more than polite interest in her.

Finally, dinner is announced. We all enter the dining room where Lana arranged a fancy meal to cement this deal. Elio sits at the head of the table with Ava to his left.

“I hope you’re ready for a full Italian meal. Seven courses,” Elio says with a nod to one of the servants who’ll be serving us tonight.

Ava offers him a polite smile. "I’ve heard about your famous D’Amato dinners."

“Good to know someone is saying something complimentary about the D’Amato family.”

Lana rolls her eyes at Elio's attempt at humor, but I imagine deep down she’s happy that he’s acting invested in this deal.

As the servants set out the first course, I turn my attention to Vincenzo. While this is about introducing Ava to Elio, I know the important player here is Vincenzo. I need to watch and assess, decipher what he might be thinking. It's harder than I anticipated as my attention keeps moving to Ava.

"So, Elio, Caruso has been saying good things about you," Vincenzo says of the head of The Chicago Outfit.

I imagine Rinella is jealous that The Outfit’s boss has taken notice of Elio. Elio is young, only twenty-six, taking over the family just a few years ago when his parents died in a car crash. But Elio is everything a crime boss should be, charming, cunning, and brutally ruthless when needed. So of course, Caruso has taken notice.

Elio sips his wine. "It’s nice to be noticed.”

“I’m sure your father would be proud.”

“Yes, I'm honored to carry on his legacy." Elio pauses, like he's choosing his words carefully. "And of course, I'm looking forward to our upcoming nuptials. It's a union that will only strengthen both of our families."

Vincenzo nods. "I'm sure it will. Ava will make you a good wife. She’s been raised to serve her husband and The Outfit.”

Lana hides her disgust behind a sip of wine. Most Mafia women I meet are like Ava—quiet, dutiful, subservient. Lana is an anomaly, outspoken and bossy. Sometimes, I think Elio should do more to rein her in. Other times, I'm glad she's willing to bust his balls.

But she’s smart enough to know when to hold her tongue… usually. She can be loose with it with Elio.

“Surely, there’s more to her than that,” Elio says, turning to Ava. “Do you have any interests? Hobbies?”

Ava glances at her father as if she needs permission. It proves his comment that she’s been raised to be subservient.

“She cooks,” Vincenzo says.

“Of course she does,” Lana quips. “We have an excellent cook.” She gestures to her plate. We’re on the antipasti course of prosciutto and cheese, no cooking involved.

“Do you have interests and hobbies?” Ava asks Elio.

"I'm afraid my work with the business does consume a great deal of my time and energy." Elio smiles at her.

I shift in my seat. I doubt Vincenzo will care that Elio’s too busy to be a good husband, but he might act like he cares. Elio needs to sell himself.

"Don't sell yourself short, Elio. You've also got quite the talents for fine wine and art,” I say.

"Yes, those are passions of mine as well.”

Ava's brow furrows slightly. "How… interesting. I must admit, I don't know much about art and wine?—”

“You can teach her,” Vincenzo interrupts, earning a hidden glare from Lana.

As the meal progresses, we continue to exchange conversation. It feels like Elio's just going through the motions, which considering this is an arranged marriage for business makes some sense. But Ava is beautiful and raised to be a perfect Mafia wife. Elio should be more pleased. I’d be fucking kicking up my heels if my arranged mate were Ava. Of course, I won’t have an arranged marriage. While I’m technically a member of the family, being Elio and Lana’s cousin, in the Mafia world, I’m just another soldier. Elio and Lana treat me like family, value my place in it and the business, but I don’t hold the power or influence they do with other families. That’s okay. I’m not looking for marriage, arranged or otherwise.

But Elio, he’s surprising me. He’s not displeased with Ava, but he’s also not happy. He seems distracted. There's something up with him. Something that has my gut tightening. Something that makes me think he's about to blow this arrangement out of the water.

Lana's voice is light and friendly, even as her voice is charged. "So, Ava. Tell us a bit more about yourself. What are your aspirations, your hobbies? I'm sure a woman of your stature has plenty of interests beyond just managing a household."

Both Elio and I send her a look to tread carefully. It’s clear Vincenzo raised her to be a wife, not to pursue her own interests.

Ava shrugs. “I do enjoy cooking. I don’t know art very well, but I enjoy going to museums.”

I have no doubt these are talking points given by her father. I note the necklace she's wearing. It doesn't look like an heirloom.

“You have an unusual necklace on,” I say.

Ava presses her hand over it and smiles. “I made it.”

“Really?” I study it more. Elio clears his throat. I imagine he's not happy with my staring at her chest. It is a nice chest. Creamy, soft-looking skin. Round swells.

“Yes.” She glances down at her crafty work. It’s an unusual opaque stone with gold wire work around it.

“Of course, there won’t be time for all that when you’re married.” Vincenzo shakes his head at his daughter. “This is a big home. You’ll be busy.”

I watch as Vincenzo continues to talk about Ava as if she’s nothing more than a prized show dog. Fucker.

I glance back at her, and again I’m struck by the fire in her eyes that belies her placid exterior. On the surface, she’s the picture of demure compliance, but there’s more to her. She’s not a fragile doll. She’s a woman with a core of steel, forced to hide her true self behind a mask of docility.

There’s more to this woman. I wonder what she’d be like if given the freedom to be herself. What would she do? What passions and dreams lay dormant, crushed under her father’s dominance?

I risk another glance at her, our eyes meeting for a brief moment. In that instant, I see a spark of something. Does she recognize that I see more in her than she’s letting on?

“I’m sure we can set up space and time for crafting, can’t we, Elio?” Lana says to him. I’m not sure whether Lana sees what I see or she’s insulted by Rinella’s misogynistic attitude.

“Of course.”

“We should get this wedding planned,” Vincenzo says, continuing on emphasizing the strategic benefits of solidifying the D'Amato-Rinella alliance through Elio's marriage to Ava. But I can see that Elio doesn't really have his head in the game.

I glance over at Lana, whose furrowed brow tells me she's noticing too.

“I say we get it done. With our contacts, there’s no reason we can’t have this wedding in… say… two weeks.”

Elio is taken off-guard by Vincenzo’s plan. He doesn't respond.

I clear my throat. "Elio, what are your thoughts on the matter?" Actually, I’m wondering why the hurry. Is Ava not so innocent, after all? Is she with child that Vincenzo wants to pass off as Elio’s?

“What are your thoughts, Ava?” he asks.

Ava's lips curve into a small smile as if she's never been asked her opinion. "Well, I've always envisioned a grand, traditional Italian wedding. With all the trimmings, of course."

“We should do that, but it will take more than two weeks," Elio says.

“Nonsense.” Vicenzo waves Elio's comment away. “Like I said, between our contacts, we can arrange something quickly.”

"The D'Amatos do know how to throw a party,” Lana adds, earning her a glare from Elio.

Is he trying to get out of this wedding? If he does, it will cause a bunch of shit with Rinella. Shit I don't want to deal with. And yet, a part of me doesn't want her to marry him.

“Two weeks it is,” Vincenzo announces.

I hold my breath wondering if Elio is going to push back on this, but thankfully, he doesn't.

We finish dinner, and it's clear Elio has had enough. He can barely hide his relief when we're walking Vincenzo and Ava to the door.

Before he leaves, Vincenzo says to Elio, “You seem distracted. Is everything alright?”

He doesn't give a shit about Elio. He's more concerned about this business alliance.

Elio pats him on the back. “Everything is fine, Vicenzo. Just tired is all.”

“You know how important this alliance is. We cannot afford any… distractions."

"I understand. I assure you, my focus is where it needs to be."

Vincenzo studies him for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "See that it remains that way, Elio."

Elio's eyes flash with heat, a warning of sorts. Vincenzo is disrespecting him, and any moment now, Elio is going to confront him.

I shake my head at him, telling him not to do it. This deal is too important.

“Have a good evening, Ava.” Elio gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Vincenzo.” He shakes his hand.

When they leave, Elio heads to his office.

I find him there pouring a stiff drink. "He’s right, you know. You seem off.”

Lana enters behind me.

Elio downs his drink. “Long day, that’s all.”

“Doing what?” I know his schedule forward and backward. There was nothing challenging on it today.

“Just life.”

What the fuck does that mean?

“We can’t afford to mess this up,” Lana says, irritation lacing her tone.

Elio shrugs. “We don’t need them.”

Lana glances at me, her expression asking me to talk sense into Elio.

I study him, trying to figure out what's up. Does he not like Ava? Nah, that can't be it. Elio likes beautiful women. And he's always been committed to this arranged marriage since his father set it up with Rinella eight years ago.

“Maybe not, but you’d be a fool to think you have the inside track to Caruso. You’re still young, mostly unproven. This alliance gives you more power. Besides, if you don’t marry her, he’ll send her off to someone else, and she certainly deserves better than some old motherfucker," I say.

Elio arches a brow. “You care about what happens to Ava Rinella?”

I clear my throat, feeling uncomfortable being caught thinking anything about Ava. “Sure. She’s a nice kid.”

“You’re missing the point,” Lana interrupts. “We lost our parents and Lazaro.” She refers to her twin. “This family is dwindling down to nothing, and I bet it’s not by accident.”

“We don’t know that Lazaro is dead,” Elio says, although we all know he probably is. Well, all of us except Lana, who’s convinced he’s alive. But Lazaro was an impulsive, explosively violent man who was also loyal to the family. No way he's not here unless he's dead.

“And Mom and Dad were in a car accident," Elio finishes.

Lana glares at him. “No one suffers that sort of loss?—”

“Families like yours do,” I interrupt. Organized crime is a dangerous life. We have higher levels of accidents that lead to death and permanent disappearances.

“That’s my point,” she snaps. “Our numbers are dwindling, big brother. We need an alliance to make sure no one comes looking to get rid of you.”

She's not wrong, but a glance at Elio tells me he's not worried. I suspect he's relying on Caruso's growing support to protect him.

“I promise you, I’ll take care of this family. I won't let you down."

“I hope so, Elio. You’re the foundation of this family," Lana reminds him.

He nods, offering her a reassuring smile. "And I'll continue to be that. For you, for Lazaro, and for our parents. I know this alliance with Rinella is crucial. I won’t let anything mess that up."

But there's something missing in Elio's declaration. Something that tells me Rinella is going to be pissed.

When Elio dismisses us, I head out, thinking I’ll go to the club. Maybe a good fuck will banish Ava’s sweet smile and fiery eyes from my mind.

But somehow, I end up at the Rinella estate. Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with me? But do I drive past, make a U-turn, and go to the club? No. Because I’m a fucking idiot.

I park around the corner and hoof it toward the Rinella property. It’s well-guarded, but I know where the cameras are and how to avoid detection. Rinella is an ally, but Elio has never trusted him, and in the vein of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, I’ve learned all about Rinella’s home.

Slipping past the perimeter, I stick to the shadows, my eyes scanning for any sign of movement. I can’t deny the thrill I’m feeling even as I know this can get my ass killed. I creep closer to the house, catching a glimpse of light from an upstairs window.

Ava walks by, and I stop, watching her. Even as I admire her, I’m kicking myself. What the hell am I doing? Ava is Elio's fiancée, promised to him over the last eight years. Elio was eighteen at the time, reeling from his girlfriend moving away. I try not to think too much about how Ava was only ten years old when her father made this arrangement with Elio’s father. Fucking bastard.

In the end, though, she’s now eighteen and Elio’s fiancée. I have no right to be sneaking around, hoping for a glimpse of her. I respect Elio. I’m his cousin, but he treats me like a brother. I’ve never envied him his life, the losses, the weighty responsibility. But right now, I’m jealous of him. That he gets this captivating woman simply because he’s the eldest son of the D’Amato family.

I’m playing with fire as I watch her. The doors open, and she steps out onto the small balcony. I shift back further into the shadows and watch her. Gone is the carefully composed facade from dinner. Here, in the soft moonlight, she looks… real. Her hair shifts as a breeze blows through it, making her look wanton. She’s wearing a simple nightgown that does nothing to hide her curves. Her nipples are hard, likely from the cool breeze. Of course, my dirty mind thinks about those nipples. My mouth waters wanting to suck them.

She’s sexy and breathtaking, and I can stand here all night watching her. But it isn’t just her raw beauty and sexuality that are holding me captive. There’s a sadness around her. It triggers a primal part of me that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with protecting her.

She leans against the railing, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. What is she thinking about? Not about me, that’s for sure. I’m just a soldier. I’m a nobody in her world.

But I can’t stop watching her, wondering what dreams and fears swirl behind those expressive eyes. I want to climb up there, to wrap her in my arms and promise her the world. If only I could. But I have no right to be here like a fucking peeping Tom, much less thinking about her. I’m an intruder, violating her privacy for my own selfish desires.

Shame washes over me, mingling with the longing that refuses to subside. I shouldn’t disrespect her like this. And I’m disloyal to disrespect Elio like this.

I slip away from the Rinella property. The image of Ava on that balcony, bathed in moonlight, is seared into my brain. I won’t be able to shake it no matter how hard I try. I’m well and truly fucked if Elio finds out I was here, if he senses my pull to Ava. I’d deserve whatever he did to me.

I really should go to the club and find a woman, or two or three, to fuck away this gnawing need for Ava. But for the first time since I discovered sex, I’m not interested. Yep, I’m well and truly fucked.