Home > Faked : A Dark Mafia Romance(8)

Faked : A Dark Mafia Romance(8)
Author: Vanessa Waltz

 

 

Four

 

 

Vinn

 

 

Damn her.

That sweet temptation would be my undoing. The mental image of Liana in her revealing dress taunted me. My reaction to her ass hanging out hadn’t been disgust.

Far from it.

What I felt—apart from a murderous rage toward Leo for touching her—was pure lust.

Which made the fact I’d almost fucked Liana problematic, considering Michael was my consigliere, best friend, and pretty much my only family.

After she left in a taxi, I jerked off in a bathroom. Then I circled the block a few times to cool off. I couldn’t stroll through the bar looking all hot and bothered, advertising that I’d crossed the line with Michael’s sister.

Jesus. If he’d seen what I’d done.

Michael’s little sister.

What a hell-raiser.

She used to be the picture of innocence. I could never raise my voice around her, even when she badgered me with questions. I met her when I was thirteen. She was four. She’d always hovered in my life. She’d written when I was deployed to Iraq. I’d kept the letters folded in my pocket. When I was shot last year, she’d visited me in the hospital. She’d kissed my cheek while I basked in a fentanyl haze, and the warmth blazing across my face made me smile. Sure, she turned heads.

But it wasn’t like I’d wanted to fuck her.

That’s changed.

I used to squeeze the cute dimple in her chin, charmed by her doll-like face. I didn’t like kids, but she was different. Maybe because I’d been abandoned by my piece of shit parents and hers were dead. So I’d picked her up, held her hand, kept her safe, and smacked Michael around when he was too rough with his sister.

She grew up.

She filled out.

Little Liana had grown more beautiful by the year.

It’d been way too easy to get her alone. In a blink, I had her tied up, bent over, and her thong to her knees. I could’ve gone further. I imagined rubbing my thumb along the shadow of her pussy. She didn’t put up a strong fight, which gave me ideas. My filthy thoughts revolved around Liana, kneeling and choking on my cock.

I’d never look at her the same.

I didn’t bother wiping my grin until I returned to The Sunset Tavern, a dive whose orange lights cast everybody in sepia tones. Uncle Nico, the don of the family, owned the bar. He was serving a five-year prison sentence.

I maintained things in his absence. I oversaw Nico’s investments in condo developments and was partner to several construction firms. Later, I had a meeting with Larry Spada, a municipal politician, who would help me with zoning if I took care of Skunk, a crazy street boss who’d named himself after the bold white streak in his hair.

Michael sat at the same table, staring at his phone. He frowned as I approached. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

Shit. I didn’t think she’d squeal that fast. “Nothing.”

“She’s pissed, man. Check it out.”

He showed me his cell.

Liana: I never want to see V again.

Me: Why?

Liana: He’s a PSYCHO.

Liana: Don’t ever put me in the same room as him.

Me: What did he do?

She never replied.

Good girl.

Zero remorse plagued my conscience, but there was no sense in pissing off my most loyal associate. If Michael saw my hands all over his sister, he’d fly into a fucking rage that’d end with one of us beating the other into a coma.

We were total opposites.

Michael was the life of the party. I couldn’t charm a potted plant. He wore tailored suits. I’d rather be in shorts and a T-shirt. He loved children. I’d never wanted them. He was easily provoked. I barely felt anything these days.

And I’d let her get to me.

A lethal calmness settled in Michael’s gaze. “Did you threaten her?”

In a manner of speaking. “I was harsh.”

“What does that mean?”

I waved, indicating it was nothing. “I gave her a stern talk.”

“You should’ve left that to me.”

“It doesn’t work coming from you. You never follow through.” I needed to steer the conversation away from these dangerous waters. “She knows better than to mouth off to me.”

“What’s going on between you two?”

I wiped images of Liana from my mind. “No idea. I only see her when you’re around.”

“She’s stressed.” Michael sighed in the same way he did when his kids misbehaved. “I need her to pick a husband, but she’s dragging her feet. I’ll have to decide for her, and our relationship is already strained.”

A husband?

That shot a bolt into my chest.

“Oh. I didn’t tell you.” He swept his brown hair. “Alessio came back from New York. Nico wants us to make peace with Legion MC, but the president is demanding Liana’s hand in marriage.”

The vision of Liana in a wedding dress next to an MC member shoved a white-hot poker of rage into my heart.

“Are they fucking crazy?”

“I know,” he groaned. “It’s insane. They’ve never even met, but I guess he thinks she’ll be good collateral.”

She would be.

I didn’t have a lot of people in my life, but she was one of them. If I ever had to choose between Liana and the family’s interest, I’d take her.

No question.

I’d destroy every Harley dealership from here to California before giving her to a biker.

“No.” I balled my fists. “Hell no.”

“Preaching to the choir. You should hear what my wife has to say about it. Anyway, that’s why I’m trying to find her a husband.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“Doing that right now. You asked me to handle Legion,” Michael reminded me in a sharp voice.

Yes, we needed to end the biker wars.

Since Boston had spiraled into complete chaos, the mayor had contacted me weekly, threatening to call in the National Guard if the car bombings didn’t stop. They’d already imposed martial law and mandated curfews, slamming all business to a screeching halt and tanking the local economy. I had enough on my plate with Legion and Rage Machine turning Boston into a war zone.

Ending Crash’s trafficking ring was supposed to cut Rage Machine at the knees, but they seemed to have an endless supply of guns and cash to bribe judges. They’d also been stealing dynamite from our construction sites to terrorize the city. Helping Legion defeat them made sense, but I’d had no idea the president of the club wanted Liana.

The possibility of Michael setting Liana up triggered an avalanche of no. How could he do that? You didn’t give a prize to a decrepit soldier like DiMaggio.

I could’ve reached across the table, grabbed his tie, and bashed his skull into the wood.

“So that’s the reason behind the DiMaggio disaster.”

“Funny you mention him.” Michael tensed, his amber gaze lighting with fire. “I wondered why you ran off the harmless guy I set up for her.”

“He would’ve slid his disgusting hands under her dress as soon as he got her alone.”

“No.” Michael shook his head. “He’s old school. He wouldn’t have touched her before marriage.”

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