Darkest Sin: A Dark Mafia Romance

8. KILLIAN

My fleet of blackout SUVs rolls to a stop outside the home of Deago Donatelli, the scum who ordered the raid on my warehouse. He’s the head of a small mafia family trying to climb the ranks—and burning bridges in the process—but after tonight, the Donatelli family will be nothing but ruins.

Under the cover of darkness, my men are barely visible as they pour from the SUVs and surround the Donatelli estate. I’ve brought overwhelming numbers, and while I certainly don’t need it to be successful tonight, it also acts as a warning to anybody else who wishes to stand against the DeLorenzo family.

I’ve spent the day calling the wives and families of those who were slain in the raid last night to help organize funeral arrangements, and with every grieving wife I spoke to, I vowed that come nightfall, I would get the justice they deserve.

It was a rough day, and while dealing with death is just another part of the job, I won’t lie and say it doesn’t affect me. The horror of what I do and who I’ve become has always lingered on my soul, and one day, I will fail to recognize the man who stares back at me in the mirror, but until then, I will continue to be the man this family needs me to be.

The only respite I’ve received today was the stolen moment with the beautiful woman I now call mine out by the pool. It was brief, and while my intent was to simply check in on her from afar, I found myself lingering, even taking a seat at the table.

I’m curious about her, and while I spent an hour this morning sitting by her bedside as I looked into the file Sergiu gave me, I’m finding that curiosity getting stronger. I wish to get to know her better. I want to know why she hasn’t attempted to run, why her eyes flash with intrigue instead of fear every time she looks my way, but more so, I need to know why my pulse quickens every time I’m in her presence.

I want to touch her, want to know how it would feel to sink inside of her. Taste her and claim her in every way possible.

She is mine, every piece of her belongs to me. When her gaze locks onto mine, I feel that she belongs right here in my world. I feel a connection, an electricity that pulses between us, and I’m intrigued. I want to know her on a deeper level, and the fact that I don’t has been grating on my nerves all day.

I felt it at the auction, the moment her innocent gaze locked onto mine and she silently screamed for help, that some kind of bond was forged between us, and while I stand by my statement that I am not her hero, I can’t help but wish to be. However, villains cannot afford to be heroes, not in my world. Men like me are not bred for the limelight. We are not made to be celebrated. We live within the darkness, away from the watchful eyes of the general population, where corruption, money, and bloodshed are seen as power.

While she is a sultry fox and certainly not innocent by normal standards, compared to the world I live in, she’s nothing but a helpless rabbit, and the right thing to do would be to let her go. But I’m not known for doing what’s right. I do what I want, and right now, I want nothing more than to fuck that innocence out of her.

And that’s exactly what I plan to do the moment I get home.

Wanting to get this shit over and done with so I can get back home and sink into my new prize, I glance around at my men as they surround the Donatelli estate. Everybody is exactly where they’re supposed to be, guns at the ready.

Sergiu stands at my side, his finger at his ear as he listens to the intel he’s receiving from my security team as they run my infrared software, telling us exactly what to expect once we penetrate the property.

“We good?” I ask him.

Sergiu gives a firm nod and a fierce hunger tears through me.

It’s game time.

My gaze turns back to the estate. It’s large, but nothing compared to the scale of my home. Our intel tells us that most of the home’s occupants are on the lower level. At least fifteen men lingering within the main dining room, and a few others strolling the ground floor, possibly part of Deago’s security team—all of whom need to be fired considering their lack of movement. We’ve been here for almost a full two minutes and haven’t heard a peep from inside. If this had been an attack on my home, every single one of them would already be dead on the ground before they’d even stepped foot onto my property.

There are guns inside—probably my guns—but considering the casual stance of the assholes within, they still have not yet been alerted to our presence. There seems to be no children inside, but I’m not surprised. Deago wouldn’t be foolish enough to have his family here tonight, not so soon after waging war with the most powerful mafia family in the country. And the fact that he fails to have a security team on standby only goes to show just how naive he is. He thinks he’s untouchable, that my team would not be able to sniff him out, yet here we are, more than ready to take back what belongs to us.

Giving the signal to my men, we all move in as one. Like a well-oiled machine, we all know our part, and within seconds, we’ve breached every entrance on the ground level. The gunfire commences around me, and the deafening sound is cathartic. The world comes into hyper-focus, and everything around me slows. I can all but see the bullets whizzing through the air as Donatelli’s men realize too slowly what’s going on.

Before they can even get to their feet and reach for the guns that lay haphazardly around the living room, my men have every single one of them surrounded, and like the greatest symphony, gunfire booms through my ears, and Donatelli’s men begin dropping like flies, not a hint of remorse coming from my men.

They’re soldiers, just as I’ve trained them to be. They’re relentless, callous, and cruel. My will is their way, and if they were to fail me, they’d be nothing but a forgotten body next to the men they’ve slain tonight.

Deago stands in a panic in the center of his living room, watching in horror as his men fall around him like toy soldiers. Screams ricochet from every corner of the mansion as my men spread out, searching for anyone who might have gotten away. The staccato beat of gunshots begins to slow as my men search the upper levels.

I don’t need to say a word, I don’t need to even whisper an order, my men just know what’s expected of them, and without fail, they execute my every desire. There has always been unrest within my family, always a power struggle—especially with men like Sergiu who will never be satisfied with second best—but when it comes to defending our family, we have never been so in sync.

BANG! BANG!

Two more bodies fall with a heavy thump against the floor as the echo of the gunshots bursts through my chest, and a sick satisfaction fills my veins.

Blood splatters the walls and lines the marble tiles in a deep crimson that would look absolutely delicious on Chiara’s lips, and the moment Deago finally pulls himself together enough to try and command control of the few men left on their feet, it’s already too late. He knows this is a losing game, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

“KILL THEM,” he orders what’s left of his men in a last-ditch effort to save himself.

With blood coating his face and shaking hands, he scrambles for a gun dropped by one of his fallen men, but I don’t dare allow him the chance—not with the twenty-three lives that were lost last night still fresh in my head. Just as his fingers curl around the handle, I lift my hand and shoot a perfect, clean shot straight through the center of his wrist.

Deago screams and drops to his knees as he clutches his hand, his attention now firmly on me. I stride toward him with Sergiu at my side, and I watch with amusement as Deago tries to inch away.

He knows what’s coming for him.

“Even think about touching me, and my men will end you,” Deago spits.

I hold my hands out, making a show of searching the room. “What men?” I ask. “Take a look around. You have no men left.”

As if not having realized, Deago spares a quick glance around the blood-soaked living room, taking note of the bodies sprawled across the marble floor, not a single body belonging to one of my men. The room falls quiet, the screams fading to nothing but a haunted silence, and the drip, drip, drip of spilled blood spurs me on.

“No,” Deago breathes, shaking his head as he scrambles back to his feet and backs up toward the wall—a blatant mistake my grandfather would have beaten me for. You never back yourself into a corner. Always leave an escape. “No. You can’t kill me. I have a family.”

“As did the men you slaughtered last night,” I growl as his self-importance grates on my nerves.

He shakes his head. “I swear, it was an accident. We never meant to kill anybody. We were only going for the drugs. Nobody was meant to get hurt. We were only attempting to make a name for ourselves. We wanted everyone to know we meant business.”

“And you thought making a stand against the DeLorenzo family was the right way to do that?” I scoff, barely holding back a laugh. “Let me break the bad news. When word of this spreads, you will not be known as a brave man for stealing from me, you will be known as a foolish one who sent your men to be slaughtered. Let me be clear, you will perish here tonight, and you will be remembered as nothing more than a joke. Men will forever hear your name and laugh at your cowardice.”

“Please,” he begs. “I’ll give it all back. Just let me go. Surely you are a forgiving man. It was a moment of weakness, a bad judgment call, but I swear, I’ll never make a stand against you again. I have a wife and three young girls. They need me.”

I shake my head. “Oh, you believe this to be a negotiation? That I was coming here tonight to give you a chance to grovel for forgiveness?” I scoff. “Come on now, Deago. Surely you must know better than that.”

His face drains of all color as my men file out of the property, leaving only my most trusted within the room with me.

“Now,” I start. “You are going to tell me exactly where my product and weapons are and once I have confirmation of their whereabouts, I will then brutally slaughter you like the animal that you are.”

Horror flashes in his dark eyes as he looks around the room for a way out, but he realizes all too late that he’s trapped in a fucking corner. “Kill me then,” he spits, realizing that he’s not making it out of here alive. “But I’m not telling you shit.”

I shrug my shoulders, more than happy to play his little game. “Have it your way, Donatelli,” I murmur, stepping closer with my gun in my hand. “But just know that if I don’t have my product returned, you will die with a debt, and it will be that lovely family you speak of who will inherit that debt. Your wife is probably dried up and overused, but those little girls. I bet I could fetch a fair price for them.”

The suggestion makes me feel sick. I would never lower myself to making a move like that, not even on my worst day. Family is off-limits, no matter if it’s mine or my greatest enemy. There are some lines I simply won’t cross, but Deago certainly doesn’t know that. Hell, once I’m through with Deago, I’ll ensure his family is looked after. Have a home to live in, food on the table, and a good education for his children. The crimes of a father should never burden his children.

Deago’s eyes widen, and he begins to weep, falling back to his knees in surrender as blood pours from the gaping bullet hole in his wrist. It wasn’t a lethal shot, and the artery hasn’t been compromised, but I’ve done this long enough to know that anything could go wrong at a moment’s notice. “Please,” he sobs. “I’ll tell you, just . . . leave my family out of this. They didn’t do anything. They don’t deserve that.”

“Then tell me where my product is, and you will have my word, your family will be left in peace.”

Donatelli sobs, hanging his head low. “My uncle’s home in the Valley. There’s a hidden room behind the tool bench in his garage. You will find all your product there.”

“And my weapons?”

“Look around,” he says, ushering to the weapons that lay strewn across the room. “They’re all here.”

Just as I thought.

I nod toward Sergiu, and without skipping a beat, he lifts his phone to his ear and makes a call. Within seconds, half of my men are taking off down the street toward his uncle’s home in the Valley. It will be a little while until I get the word that my product has been secured, and as we wait, a few of my men collect every weapon in the home. They’ll all need to be cleaned and checked before I will even consider boxing them up for a shipment for the DeAngelis brothers, but at least we’re back on track. The last thing I’d ever want to do is let those brothers down. My army is far greater than theirs, but those brothers are fucked in the head, and they’re not the kind of men one wishes to make an enemy out of.

“Wh . . . What are you going to do to me?” Deago asks as we wait to hear word on my product.

“It’s simple,” I tell him as I survey the massacre around me. “Tonight I will be your judge, jury, and executioner. You slaughtered twenty-three of my people, and I promised every single one of their families that I would get vengeance, so tonight, you will experience the agony of twenty-three deaths, and only then will I put you out of your misery.”

He nods, the weight of his actions falling heavily on his shoulders. “Will you allow me to say goodbye to my family?”

“Did you allow my men the chance to farewell theirs before you slaughtered them?”

Deago visibly swallows, and I press my lips into a tight line, pitying the pathetic excuse of a man before me. “Well, it seems you have your answer,” I tell him.

The call comes in a moment later, confirming that all my product is right where Deago said it would be, along with everything else the Donatelli family has stolen, and after ensuring that it is all back in my possession and on its way to one of my more protected warehouses, I turn my attention back to Deago. “This is going to be slow and agonizing,” I warn him. “However, if you scream, I will make it worse. I don’t care for a man who cannot contain his pain. Is that understood?”

I hold my hand out to Sergiu and without question, he places a dagger right in the center of my palm as Deago watches on with fear.

“Understood,” he mutters.

And with that, three of my men step forward and grab Deago, tying him down on the coffee table as he foolishly attempts to fight them off, wasting what little energy he has.

“Shall we get started?” Sergiu asks.

I nod, and he produces the same manila folder he gave me first thing this morning and begins reading out the details I’ve already memorized. “Paolo DeCosta,” Sergiu says. “First to perish in last night’s raid. Single father of two boys. Died from a bullet wound to the chest. Possible collapsed lung.”

I nod, and with that, I sink the blade deep into Deago’s chest, making sure I angle the blade so it punctures his lung just enough to keep him breathing, but not so much that he doesn’t experience the absolute agony that comes along with it.

Deago screams out, and one of my men grabs a cloth and shoves it into his mouth, none of us willing to put up with his screams quite this late at night. “One down. Twenty-two to go,” I tell him before lifting my gaze to Sergiu. “Who’s next?”

“Phillip Lancaster. Father of four adult children and—”

“Grandfather to six,” I continue. “Died from a blown artery. Bullet wound straight through the neck.”

Sergiu nods, and I glance down at Deago. “Get ready, this one is going to hurt.”

An hour later, I stride out of the Donatelli mansion, leaving behind the type of massacre that I know will be splashed across the news first thing in the morning. However, not a single scrap of evidence will point in my direction. My men are too careful.

Sergiu hands me a cloth, and I wipe the smeared blood off my face as we make our way back to my SUV. “Security has confirmed our product has been returned to our warehouse,” Sergiu informs me. “I have a team checking over it to make sure it hasn’t been contaminated.”

“Good. I want an update first thing in the morning,” I tell him as we pile into the back of the SUV, my driver already waiting and ready to go.

The second the door closes behind Sergiu, he turns to face me. “You know, Monica is quite excited for the DeLorenzo annual gathering next week. She always feels it’s her moment to shine.”

I roll my eyes. Monica is Sergiu’s wife and a pain in my ass, but if it weren’t for her, our family events would be nothing more than a lunch put on in my home. Monica likes perfection, and event planning gives her purpose so she always goes above and beyond, and as the most senior wife of the family, she tends to let the power go to her head.

One of these days, it would be my honor to put her in her place, but in doing that, I would be giving Sergiu a reason to act out, and we have enough drama coming from outside of the family to have to deal with it coming from within.

“I’m sure she will look dazzling.”

“Yes, as expected,” Sergiu mutters. “Tell me, do you plan on bringing a date?”

I shrug my shoulders. I never bring dates to these family events, but the idea of seeing Chiara all dolled up in a gown has been playing on my mind today. “Perhaps,” I tell him. “I am undecided if I will bring someone.”

“Chiara?” Sergiu splutters, saying the one name I’ve gone out of my way not to use. “The whore you picked up from the auctions? Be serious, cousin. Bringing her would be a slap in the face. I’m sure Monica will happily find you a more suitable date. You’re the head of our family, you can’t be seen with some whore on your arm. We can find you better options if you truly wish to bring someone. Whores like that should be locked away in secret, not flaunted in front of the other women. Have some respect.”

My gaze sweeps to my cousin, and I don’t need to say a word for him to feel the wrath of my displeasure. She is certainly no whore, and while I may enjoy calling her as such when I finally get to sink into her sweet cunt, no other man shall be rewarded the same honor.

Sergiu visibly swallows and inches back, pressing his lips into a hard line. “Chiara is not some cheap prostitute offering herself up on the street,” I inform him. “And if you call her that again, I will see to it that you are made to understand the nature of that term. Perhaps Monica shall be offered up to every man of the family and you can gain a true understanding of what it means.”

Sergiu shakes his head, anger flashing in his eyes. “That’s not what I—”

“She was an innocent woman going about her day when she was stolen and caged,” I continue. “She’s spent the last few days terrified of what was to become of her, and now she’s been thrust into a world where she has to adapt quickly. That doesn’t make her a whore. It makes her a survivor, and if you are ever allowed the pleasure of meeting her, you will treat her as such. Do I make myself clear?”

Sergiu clenches his jaw, but knowing exactly who holds the power here, he quickly relents and nods. “Of course, cousin. It was an innocent slip of the tongue. I didn’t realize she meant so much to you.”

I narrow my gaze on my cousin, not trusting him for one moment, but he knows if he crosses a line with me, I won’t hesitate to take him out. “She does not mean anything to me,” I counter. “However, that does not mean that she is not entitled to some respect. She is a guest in my home, and she shall be treated with the same respect in which I offer your wife in her home.”

Sergiu watches me far too closely. “Are you sure, cousin? She seems to have you in a bind. You’ve had many guests in the past, none of whom you’ve cared to defend before.”

I simply shrug my shoulders and right myself in my seat, focusing my attention out the front windshield of the SUV, calling an end to the conversation because honestly, I don’t like what he’s implying. The blonde bombshell that’s currently residing in my guest suite really has been taking up a lot of my attention today. Every moment I’ve wondered about her, wanting to know what she is doing, what she’s feeling about being here in my world, and if she fears me the way she should.

Just as Sergiu said, I’ve never cared for those who’ve ventured into my home before, so why now? I’m all too aware that I require an heir, and the fact that I’m even considering her to be the woman who bears my children tells me more than enough—I care.

But why?

I have no fucking idea.

I’ve become infatuated with a woman I know nothing about.

Any child would be lucky to inherit her beauty and backbone. She’s stronger than I think I’ve even realized, and for some reason, I fully believe that she will surprise me. In fact, I really hope she does, and it’s that thought alone that has me excited to get home, more than ready to see her again.