Game of Love : A Mafia Romance Read online

  “See you later, man.” I shook my head at him as I sped along the winding roads.

  He could make fun of me all he wanted over my hash brown sandwiches. At one point in my life they’d been a treat. Making good use of leftover hash browns I’d been able to salvage from the bins at the boys home I’d lived at for the first part of my life was what I used to consider good days.

  I’d make a sandwich to add more substance to the two slices of bread and butter I’d had most nights. It tasted good and kept me going.

  I think sometimes I still did it to remember those days and the journey I’d taken since then.

  But sure, Wes could have steak.

  It took me half an hour to get back to the office. Or, rather what we called the office.

  It was a place we had set up at the back of a garage to meet clients.

  All I had to do was deliver the chip and pick up the cash.

  I parked up, took off my helmet and the balaclava, and jumped off my bike.

  There was a crowd that had gathered outside the work area. They were talking about racing after carnival. The area was notorious for illegal street racing and had attracted everyone who was into it for the way it was set up.

  The cops were paid well to turn a blind eye.

  I went inside and proceeded up the stairs to the room I met my clients in. It was nothing fancy. Just a meeting point with a desk and two chairs. A space to talk out business and make a deal.

  I expected Bernard to be here already with his assistant.

  I opened the door to the room and frowned when I saw the place was empty.

  “What the hell?” I scuffed. There was no way I’d ever expected the bastard to be late to meet me.

  That idea to keep the chip was starting to look better and better. Two million was definitely better than five hundred grand.

  A shuffle made me turn, but a blow to the back of my head sent me down to my knees.

  Stars speckled my vision as I coiled from the blinding pain.

  And, fuck, another blow in my face that felt like being hit by a truck knocked me right out.

  Darkness surrounded me, blocking everything out.

  Chapter Two

  Jia

  “So is that a no? As in, nope, not at all?” Mr. Green Eyes asked me.

  “It’s a no,” I replied.

  “Aww honey, you’re breaking my heart here.” He grabbed his chest and made a show of looking disappointed. “How many more times are you going to turn me down? I swear to God I’ve never heard ‘no’ that many times in my life let alone a week.”

  That was the tenth time this week I’d turned him down.

  “As many times as it takes.” I chuckled and rocked back on my heels. The movement made his eyes drop to my breasts and linger there for far too long.

  Yup… that would be the reason for my many attempts to turn this man away.

  He was gorgeous and definitely my type. Definitely the kind of guy I would go for hands down. But he was totally the type that I was trying to avoid in my pursuit to fold over a new leaf.

  No more assholes.

  Armand Ricci, my ex, had been the biggest asshole ever. Asshole enough to rule them all.

  He’d loved my breasts too and the entire look of me. Blond hair, blue eyes and big breasts seemed to definitely get a lot of attention. Like most guys he’d never looked past my appearance and valued what was underneath. As such it turned out he loved the look of a lot of women at the casino as well and made plenty of room in his bed to accommodate.

  I’d found him cheating on me with not just one woman but two. Wonderful… and double the shock.

  The idiot didn’t even care who I was when he started cheating on me. It was what happened when you got privileges from the king.

  I wanted more than that.

  More than a man who was just looking at me for my beauty and body, like this guy in front of me now, and I wasn’t going to find anybody like that in Sin City. Las Vegas attracted all manner of people. That was the first lesson I’d learned from living here all my life.

  All manner of people and no one was who they said they were. What you saw was what you got and you had to make your own inferences from that.

  I cleared my throat in an exaggerated manner and Mr. Green Eyes looked up at me with a sly smile on his face that brought out the dimples. Gorgeous dimples.

  “Come on sweetheart, why no again?” he challenged.

  I smiled and released a sigh. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Oh yes… I would love to know why the woman of my dreams keeps turning me down.” He moved away from the bar, reached out and took a lock of my platinum hair, allowing the ends to curl around his finger then loosen.

  We both looked at my hair in his hands. I also took the chance to scan the distinct impression left on his ring finger from a wedding band. A wedding band indent that looked like it was very recently worn.

  Out of the corner of my eye I glanced my father coming down the stairs. I mentally groaned when I spotted Armand next to him. He looked over to me and frowned when he saw I wasn’t alone. I guessed I was going to have him to deal with tonight too. Unfortunately, despite my daily attempts to remind him of all the reasons why I would never go back to him he still kept trying and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  It was fine, I didn’t mind reminding him that I had no intention of getting back together and if he had a problem with it he could take it up with my father.

  That would shut him up.

  The tactic would also get rid of Mr. Green Eyes too.

  I leaned forward and he thought I was going to kiss him. He actually moved in to me to receive the kiss but I slid closer to his ear.

  “I don’t think your wife would like that very much,” I told him, speaking just above the mellow jazz music that filtered over the casino floor.

  He pulled back. “My wife? I don’t have a wife.”

  I chuckled and stared him deeply in the eyes. “Your ring finger gives you away. I don’t hook up with married men.”

  The asshole smiled and gave me a purely sexual look. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and what happens in Vegas, stays there.”

  I shook my head in a cool calm manner and ran my fingers over his chest.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t like the idea of being a side piece, and my father taught me to be second to none.”

  “Your father?”

  I looked in the direction Pa had gone. He was walking past a roulette table and one of the croupiers was setting out the cards.

  The minute Pa looked over to me and nodded I waved and Mr. Green Eyes went rigid.

  I looked back to him and saw he wasn’t just rigid but he had the fear of God in his eyes.

  It was the reaction I got from most men who knew who my father was. Being the daughter of a mob boss had its perks when I wanted them. It got rid of people without further ado. Mostly, they didn’t want to end up dead.

  “My father.” I flicked my hand motioning over to Pa like it was nothing.

  “Ohh...” Mr. Green Eyes stuttered. “Giovanni Marchesi is your father?”

  Like I knew he would, Pa made his way over to me. One arm placed around my shoulder gave Mr. Green Eyes his answer.

  “Yes,” I replied with a smile.

  His breath hitched.

  “Everything okay here Bellezza?” Pa planted a kiss on my forehead and looked at Mr. Green Eyes who nodded slowly. He always gave me the traditional endearment bellezza either when he wanted to be subtle or make a point. Tonight he was being subtle for Mr. Green Eyes sake because he was a customer and Pa wasn’t sure yet if he was a threat to me or not.

  The scrutinized look Pa gave him told me he was definitely summing the guy up and his gaze landed on his ring finger also.

  Mr. Green Eyes noticed straightaway that Pa was looking at his finger and swallowed hard.

  “Yes. I mean, yes Sir. Everything is fine. I was just leaving,” he stammered.

  B
efore either of us could say anything further he scurried away like a rat leaving us.

  Good.

  Now if I had liked him I wouldn’t have told him who I was. And, I suppose if I had been the kind of girl not to care about the sanctity of marriage I would have gone with him to wherever without another thought.

  “Jia, you know I don’t like you coming down here on the floor,” Pa chided.

  I looked up at him and he released me. “Pa, if you insist on me being here under this stupid persona of managing the place, then I’m coming down here.”

  The title he’d given me was floor manager, except I didn’t do anything.

  I didn’t have to do anything. It was an attempt to give me something that sounded important. I knew that all too well.

  He’d been doing it for the last few years. Just giving me things, giving me everything so I’d stay under his wing.

  As if I could leave.

  The only way I was leaving Vegas was if he said so.

  I wasn’t stupid, I knew the boundaries.

  But… mingling was my way of dealing.

  He pressed his lips together and furrowed his salt and pepper brows. When he did that he had that classic Italian look. What Ma called his Godfather face.

  I knew Pa was just being protective over me by keeping a tab on me. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to me as what happened to her.

  Lately though he’d been more protective and completely overbearing.

  “Are you still upset with me?” he asked.

  “Yes. But me floorwalking and mingling with the customers has nothing to do with how upset I am with you.”

  He frowned and looked over to Tony who was working the bar. The fact that I didn’t have his undivided attention pissed me off.

  Tony had been serving a customer but the minute he saw Pa looking at him he came over.

  “Sir can I get you anything?”

  “Vodka on the rocks after you serve that guy,” Pa answered

  Tony nodded and went away.

  Pa returned his attention to me, inclined his head to the side and gave me a stern look. “Jia, I don’t want you in Europe. That’s the answer.”

  Tears instantly stung the backs of my eyes. Up until then he hadn’t said no and he hadn’t said yes. Although not saying anything tended to mean he wanted to tell me no but found it hard to.

  “Pa, that’s not fair. I’ve worked so hard. You know that Europe was always my goal.”

  I wasn’t a floor manager, or any other title he wanted to give me. I was an artist. I’d graduated college three years ago with the goal to go to Europe. Italy was where my heart desired. Always was. I loved Tuscany and wanted to do my master’s at the Accademia delle Belle Arti Florence in Italy.

  Known for being home to legends like Michelangelo and Vasari it was undoubtedly one of the finest schools in Italy and absolutely where I’d seen myself.

  I had everything planned then he told me I couldn’t go yet. Back then it was yet. Now he was saying no.

  “I know… but sometimes we have to divert from the goal. I can’t have you running around Europe unprotected.”

  “Don’t you mean unwatched,” I said a little too loud, eliciting a few curious glances our way and his face hardened.

  “Jia, you watch your tone with me,” he said, holding up a finger. “Do not push me. Don’t push me and make me do something I’ll regret.” His gaze clung to mine showing the depth of his seriousness.

  The last time he did something he regretted was when he locked me away in my room for the whole summer. It was after Ma was killed. I was sixteen-years-old.

  It was then that I got the eye opener of the dark world I lived in.

  His enemies came into our home and killed her right in front of me. Right in front of him. He was a second too late to save her, but he saved me. The next bullet that came from his rival’s gun was meant for me. Pa killed him before that bullet got me.

  I tried to run away after the whole incident and Pa locked me away. He locked me away until the threat was eliminated. Whatever that meant.

  I’d taken it to mean that more people were coming and he’d dealt with it.

  Being sixteen and locked away in my tower of a room at our home was different to being twenty-six and locked away.

  I was a woman now.

  “Okay…” I answered, blinking out of my thoughts.

  He moved back. “We will discuss alternatives at a more convenient time. I have a meeting I have to attend. Don’t stay on the floor too late.”

  He moved away from me before I could answer. It was fine since I didn’t have an answer for him. There was no alternative to Europe for me.

  With his departure came Armand.

  He knew not to bother me when Pa was talking to me.

  At least, he knew not to talk to my breasts tonight.

  “Still trying to get him to agree?” he asked, running a hand through his jet black hair.

  “Yes. If you must know.”

  His gaze took me in with that usual admiration, scanning me from head to toe.

  “And the floor? Is that your way of finding some poor sap to flirt with to make me jealous?”

  I just stared at him, looking at him long and hard as I tried to figure him out.

  We’d been together for a year. To me he was the distraction Pa probably wanted and encouraged when he saw us together.

  A distraction however that blinded and blindsided me, because Armand couldn’t keep his pants on when it came to other women.

  “Get over yourself.”

  “Wish I could get over myself as quickly as you got over me.”

  I made a move to go but he caught my arm. Any other man would never be so bold as to touch me, and not like that, with his hand clamping down on mine in such a threatening way.

  He knew Pa had control over me and he knew he could get away with more than most. All that brown-nosing to be Pa’s right hand man did the trick.

  Pa wasn’t like most other mafia bosses. He didn’t follow the general traditions of La Cosa Nostra. He didn’t need to.

  Pa was the Vegas king. He owned half the hotels and casinos here including the one we stood in. The Grand Marchesi was named after our family and their influence all the way back to Italy. We were part of one of the biggest crime families known across the globe. Not people to trifle with, so Armand knew what it meant to grab me like this.

  And, he did it to make a show of what it meant for him.

  Armand here got lucky, because Pa liked him.

  He liked him and that meant he got away with a lot.

  I wrenched my arm free of his grasp however. I didn’t need this shit when I was already pissed.

  “Don’t touch me,” I warned.

  He just smiled. “You used to like being touched by me bellezza.”

  “Until you started touching other people.”

  “Oh, it was just the one time,” he lied. His green eyes darkened with the deceit he tried to sell me.

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Jia, you should stop this. It won’t do you any good. Just come back to me. I promise you’ll be the only woman in my bed this time.”

  “Bastardo!” I raised my hand and slapped him across his cheek. People looked on in shock but I didn’t care.

  That smile filled his face again, taunting me. “That’s okay, only a matter of time before you come back to me. Mark my words, you will be mine again.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “We’ll see about that. If you resist, it’s like you say, I’ll take it up with your father.”

  “You asshole, what the hell does that mean?” I knew better than to gloss over the real meaning of his words. Armand didn’t say anything unless he meant to make some kind of mark or leave some lasting effect.

  “Well, it could mean I may not want my future wife floating around the floor with every man’s eyes on her tits and ass.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. I was having difficulty processin
g what he’d said.

  Future wife?

  That was what he said, right?

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me Jia, now’s not the time to play dumb. You know how your family are very paternal. Men running the business. Your father had a daughter. I’m the closest thing he has to a son. Our families go back to Italy. You and me. Are you seeing the picture I’m painting yet?”

  “You fucking bastard, I don’t want you…” That would finish me off. I wouldn’t be free. I already felt like a prisoner here.

  He reached for my face and ran a finger across my cheek.

  “Yet, I want you so badly.” He taunted.

  One more smile, accompanied by a wink and he moved away from me.

  I watched him walk down the path and in less than two seconds his eyes were glued to a dark-haired woman who started jumping up and down as her friend won some money. Her breasts were practically popping out of the extremely tight dress she wore.

  He looked at her, admiring her body, his eyes all over her, while my soul shivered. I couldn’t help but fear what his words meant and the ease with which he’d said them.

  I may have my say in a few things but ultimately Pa had the final word.

  There was only one thing I could do.

  Leave…

  I had to get out of here.

  I had to get away.

  I just didn’t know how…

  Chapter Three

  Xander

  Pain…

  Pain lanced through my head then worked its way down my damn spine like a skitter of electricity filled with burning heat.

  Shit….

  My head felt like it was going to fall off. There had only been one time in my life when I’d experienced such pain and that was when I was a marine. My men and I had been ambushed by a group of militants in Uzbekistan. It was one of my many missions. One memorable mission because three of us including me had been kidnapped.

  They used knockout gas to take us down. I got us out.

  As my eyes fluttered open and the bright overhead light beamed down on me I got the same sensation. That sensation of being trapped. Waking up and not knowing where the hell you were. Where you were and how you got to be where you were. It all took me now in one gulp.