His to Ruin (Savage Kings of Tessari #3)

1. Tommaso

TOMMASO

There seems to be a never-ending fountain of conflict in Tessari, Italy.

That’s how it’s always been, and how it will always be.

My family is one of the reasons any sort of order is kept.

There are people who would say that our presence is the reason for the chaos, but I know the truth.

Without us, the wolves would be hunting every single night for fresh meat, and no one would be there to protect the mice.

Perhaps we’re the wolves ourselves, but we keep our enemies out of our territory. We take what is ours, and keep others from claiming it.

The winter months are nearly behind us, and the sun is staying out longer. So much time has passed with my brother Carmine delaying our mission that fucking spring is almost here.

“I feel like a sitting duck,” I tell him as we stand in the boardroom of our family estate. “You’ve come up with nothing that we didn’t already know in the last few weeks. It’s time for me to go get some intel.”

“No, Tommaso,” Carmine insists. “You’re too hot-headed and you know it. You’ll get yourself into trouble before we’ve had the chance to even observe the Bianchi family for a full month.”

“Observing…fuck that,” I growl out my words. “What is observing getting us? Absolutely nothing. They’re watching us, we’re watching them, and we’re both on edge. We need to end this war before it even starts.”

“How exactly would you suggest we do that?” Soren, Carmine’s boyfriend, asks me.

I’m surrounded by men who all seem to want to work against me. All of my brothers—Carmine, Alessio, Tiberi, and the youngest, Cassian. They all have their own interest in this mess, but none of them seem to be willing to put in the work.

“The underground operatives in San Damiano have more information on the Bianchis; I know it,” I explain. “They have eyes everywhere, and I know a few of them. They owe me.”

“How do we know that they won’t turn on you?” Alessio asks. His boyfriend, Damian, stands nearby as well, working as a guard for us these last few weeks. He’s a shadowed presence that I rarely notice.

“They have too much to lose. They don’t want to get on our bad side,” I tell them.

“Wait, if they have information about the Bianchis, they probably have information about us too, right?” Nikolas, Soren’s cousin asks from the corner of the room.

He’s just a kid, barely sixteen years old, but Carmine insists on preparing him for the life we live by having him involved in these discussions. At first I thought it was a good idea, but I’m quickly questioning that.

“Yes, probably,” I admit. “Even better that I go talk to them. I can make sure they’re keeping their mouths shut.”

“First you say it’s about getting information about the Bianchis, now it’s about making sure they don’t talk about us… How do you know they’ll even talk to you then?” Cassian asks me, a look of doubt on his face that makes my blood boil.

I throw my hands up and huff. “Look if you can’t trust me to do my job then what the fuck am I even doing here?

” I ask everyone. “The whole reason I have contacts with the operation in San Damiano is because you, Carmine, decided it was a good idea for me make nice with them three years ago. Father was still alive then. It wasn’t your call.

He didn’t want me to. You were the one who supported me going against his word and doing it anyway. ”

“Things are different now,” Carmine says. “We have to be careful. We’ve lost quite a few people over the last couple of months.”

“And we gained dozens more when Soren signed over the Fiorelli family to you,” I remind him. “Since when do we just sit on our asses being careful instead of getting the job done?”

Carmine sighs. “Just give me another week, Tommy. We need to find out just how closely the Bianchis are watching us before I let you go hunting and get more people involved.”

“Son of a bitch,” I hiss. “You don’t understand. We’re already in deep. If the Bianchis want our ass, they’re gonna get it. We gotta fight back, not stand in the way.”

“I understand your concern—” Carmine starts but I cut him off.

“You can miss me with that understanding my concern crap. You don’t treat Alessio this way; he’s your second in command. But I’m lower on the totem pole, huh? Well, if you can’t trust me, so fucking be it.” I glare at him and everyone in the room before I turn around and head for the door.

“Tommaso,” Tiberi says my name, but I ignore him. My blood is pumping through my veins hot and fast.

All in a second I send my fist into the wall beside the entry way to the room and feel the crack of stone against my knuckles.

“Let him go, he needs to cool down,” Carmine mumbles.

He’s right. If I stay here, I’m going to get into a fight with someone and no one wants that. Killing one of my brothers is something I want to do on a damn near daily basis, but it’s not something that I want to live with afterward.

I stomp out of the room with blood dripping from my knuckles onto the floor. You would think the first place I’d head to would be the bathroom to get my fist cleaned up, but no, I grab my leather jacket and head out of the estate entirely.

The cool wind of the evening helps settle me ever so slightly as I step out onto the porch and suck in a deep breath. I wipe off my hand on my jeans and pull my keys out of my pocket before heading for the massive garage that accompanies the estate.

Once in my Pagani Imola, a sports car that could rival just about any other, I speed down the driveway. The gates to the estate open the second they see my car coming and I don’t even stop. If they hadn’t opened when they did, I’d have hit them.

My knees bounce slightly as I drive. I need to get away from here. Anywhere.

I need some kind of release for the anger and irritation I feel.

I need sex. Not just any kind of sex. Messy, intense, kinky sex.

I need someone to keep me busy for the rest of the night.

Someone to get my mind off the multiple someone’s that continue to deny me my right to do my fucking job for my family.

There’s a few places I could go, but the closest one is our family night club. I hit an illegal U-turn so fast that my tires screech, and I drive in the opposite direction that I was in the first place.

All the while Tessari flies by in my windows.

It’s a beautiful historic city on the coast of Tessari. The scent of lush pine trees and sea salt fill my nose, only seconded by the leather of the seat underneath my ass.

I pass car after car on the road and ignore the honks of annoyed drivers. If I were to stop, they’d be having a much worse night, that is for certain.

I ignore stop lights and rush through every single intersection until I pull into the back lot of the Notte Scarlatta.

Scarlet Night. The night club that has been in my family’s name for several decades now.

Upgraded through the times. At one point in the seventies, it was the hottest spot in all of Italy.

It’s still a popular club, but it tends to draw those interested in the darker side of things.

They come hoping to spot a glance of one of us Dresvannis, or one of the other crime families we’re allied with that frequent the club.

Some of the grifters and those unallied but smart enough to stay off our bad side.

When I get to the front entrance of the club, the bodyguard there taking IDs doesn’t even make a motion to ask for me.

“Mr. Tommaso, go on in,” he tells me and opens up the rope for me to get to the door.

I could’ve gone into the back entrance, but this is way more fun. The lustful eyes on my body, the murmuring of people who are guessing what I’m there for. Even more fun is what happens next.

“I’m with him!” a woman who looks barely eighteen says and tries to squeeze in beside me as I’m walking through the rope.

Her confidence is quite amusing to me, but I’m not in the mood for a woman tonight. “Yeah right, sweetheart,” I tell her, and put a hand on the front of her shoulder, shoving her back a foot. “Find someone else to get you in.”

The guard immediately motions her to the back of the line and she frowns.

“Oh, come on. Just because I don’t have my ID?” she asks in frustration. “Everyone knows what goes on here.”

If only she knew the rules. She clearly doesn’t. And clearly doesn’t have the money to pay her way in.

I let him handle it as I head to the door and enter the club. The sound of pulsing music fills my ears the second I’m inside. One half of the front of the club is the dance floor, the other half filled with booths and the long bar that is full up of people sitting and mingling at the stools.

The lighting is dim and grungy, and I immediately feel at home here. I remember being dragged here by my mother in the early days of my childhood, looking for our father who was in the back of the club.

Apparently, they met here. I can see that.

Her absence in my life is something I try to avoid thinking about. She’s not dead, not like Carmine and Alessio’s mother, no, she simply decided she didn’t want to be a part of this life anymore.

I brush the thought of my parents, both no longer around, out of my head and go to the bar.

“Whiskey, neat,” I tell the bartender.

She pours me exactly what I ask for, top shelf, and slides it across the bar.

I take it down in one solid gulp, feeling the slight burn down my chest, warm and pleasant. Every little drop out of the cup is licked off my lips and drawn into my mouth. Then I slam the glass down onto the bar.

“Damn, that’s good.” I laugh and shake my head. I’m already starting to forget why I was upset in the first place.

I ask her to pour me another, but this second one I don’t immediately pour down my gullet. Instead I sip on this one as I observe the crowd tonight.

I watch the way they move on the dance floor, gyrating and grinding against each other. It gets my blood pumping harder in my veins for a different reason entirely than when I got here.