Ruthless King (The Mancini Mafia #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

AURORA

C oming home to find my father’s body draped over the couch with a bullet in his brain is the defining moment of my life.

Just a couple of hours ago, we enjoyed dinner together.

“I just want you to be happy, pumpkin,” he said over his plate of meatballs.

“I will be,” I responded. The reason I’m not happy? My mother died from breast cancer just a few months ago, and I’m still processing.

The only person I had left was my father—Giovanni Costa.

And now, he’s dead.

I rush to his body, my hands hovering over his neck. Should I check his pulse or not? I don’t want to because I know what it’ll mean, and then it will be real.

I wanted to stay out after our meal and shop for new shoes because my heels were starting to wear down. So, while I visited a few stores, my father returned home and left me with our guard.

Bracing myself, I check his pulse, and it tells me everything I already knew. I crumple to my knees and sob. Large, body-wracking sobs. My father, my kind sweet father, is dead.

Someone killed him. Someone came into our home while I was out shopping for shoes and murdered him.

But why?

I knew my father was into … something. He had a job that he never told me about, but I’m not na?ve. I knew he was involved in something shady. I just never asked what, and now, I worry he paid the price for it.

I force myself to stand up. If someone killed my father, they might come after me. I always thought the reason we had a bodyguard was because we’re wealthy. I never thought it would be … because someone wanted my father dead.

I have to call the police. I need help. My hands shake as I pull my phone from my purse and start to dial 9-1-1. I only type in the “9” when I stop.

What if someone thinks I did this? I have a clear alibi with our guard, Jack, so that’s irrational. Fine. But … what if the person who killed my father comes after me because I called the police?

I’m not thinking straight.

All I can think about is him lying on our couch with a bullet in his brain. The TV is off, so he wasn’t watching it when he died. Unless the person who did this turned it off. What was my father doing right before he died?

His kind smile over dinner flashes through my brain. That was just hours ago. None of this can be happening. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

I curl back into a ball and soon realize I’m hyperventilating. None of this makes sense. Who would want to murder my father?

I have to get Jack in here. He’ll know what to do.

Forcing my breathing to return to normal, I stand up and walk outside. Jack is standing on the porch, his spine ramrod straight.

“Aurora?” he asks.

“My father is dead.”

All the color drains from Jack’s face as he runs inside. He stops short when he sees my father. “I …”

“How did this happen?” I whisper.

“I was with you. I didn’t know. I …” Jack’s face turns crestfallen. He worked for my father for decades, even before I was born. I know they were close.

“What do we do? I mean, who did this?”

Jack runs a hand down his face, then shakes his head fiercely. “Ok. Here’s what we do. We call your aunt, Beatrice.”

“Beatrice?” I haven’t seen my aunt in years. The only memory I have of her is her stern expression whenever she’d visit.

“Yes. She was in business with your father. She might have some idea what to do.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“No.”

My heart begins to beat faster. “Why not?”

He nods at the phone in my hand. “You could have called them already. So, why didn’t you?”

Jack is right. I didn’t call the police. Something in my gut told me not to get them involved.

“How can Beatrice help?” I ask instead of answering his question.

“Because she might know who did this and how to proceed. I’ll call her and have her come right away.” He reaches out his hand and gently touches my arm. “How are you?”

“My father is dead. How do you think I am?”

Jack has the courtesy not to respond to that before walking away and pulling out his phone. I can hear him talking to someone, but I drown it out.

I sit down on the couch beside my father, taking in his open eyes. There’s nothing behind his eyes, and there never will be again.

We went out to dinner to talk about my mother’s death. At twenty years old, losing my mother was the hardest thing I’d ever had to deal with, but having my father helped. Sure, he wasn’t as good at comforting me as she was or going shopping with me like she did or making the perfect pancakes like she did, but my father was kind. He tried. And he wanted us to get through her death together.

And now, I’ll have to get through his death on my own.

Our house is huge. A mega-mansion in Beverly Hills. I should have questioned where my father got his money. I just never did because I reaped the benefits of it. Clothes, my car, the best education.

The only thing I’ve never had is a boyfriend. My father expected me to go to college and then get married right away. It’s not the most modern of views, but it’s what he wanted for me, and because I loved him and respected him, I respected his decision.

I’ve never rocked the boat. I’ve stayed in my lane. Been the good girl because that’s what I wanted and that’s what my parents wanted. I was taught to let a man court me before marriage.

But now, I don’t even have a husband. I don’t have anyone.

Except for Aunt Beatrice, who’s walking through the front door this very moment.

I glance at the clock. I was zoned out for the past thirty minutes. Time isn’t moving like it used to. Before, it would move slow or fast, but now, time doesn’t even make sense. It’s non-linear.

Beatrice is my father’s sister. A formidable woman with straight black hair and intense eyes and an even more intense scowl. In all the years I’ve known Beatrice, I’ve never seen her smile.

“What are you doing sitting there, girl?” she snaps at me. “Get off the couch.”

I immediately do as she says. A part of me is worried she’d slap me if I didn’t listen to her.

Her eyes roam over my father’s body. “God, Giovanni. How could you be so stupid?”

I flinch at her words. “Stupid? My father is dead!”

Beatrice spins around to face me. “Yes, stupid. Because he got himself involved in a deal I told him not to, and now, he’s dead.”

“What deal?”

“You don’t know anything, do you?”

I cross my arms. “What are you talking about?”

Beatrice huffs, shaking her head. “Giovanni kept you sheltered. Innocent to the ways of the world. Your father was part of the Mafia, Aurora.”

“What?” I stumble back, unable to even feel my feet.

“You heard me. The Mafia. In fact, he had a lot of power here in LA. But he was no competition to the Mafia in New York.”

“So, you’re saying the … Mafia killed him?”

She looks me straight in the eye as she answers. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“But why? What did he do?”

“He got involved with a man named Nico Mancini. He’s the head of the Italian Mafia in New York. He practically runs that entire city.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” I whisper.

Beatrice gives me an indulgent look. “No, you wouldn’t have, girl. Because he’s a man who knows when to be in the spotlight and when to be in the shadows. Your father wanted to expand. I advised him not to, but did he listen to me? No. He wanted to make a deal with Nico Mancini, and now, he’s dead.”

“What happened?”

For the first time since arriving, Beatrice looks unsure. “I don’t know everything. I wasn’t included. I wouldn’t be surprised if the deal went wrong, and he was killed for it.”

My head is spinning so fast, I’m getting dizzy. I sit back down on the couch, but when Beatrice turns her withering gaze onto me, I hurriedly pop back up. “What was this deal, exactly?”

“To expand the Italian Mafia’s empire. Guns and drugs—the usual shit. I know Giovanni was offering more of his territory to Mancini to smuggle guns through if he received part of the money. That was the last I heard of it, and now, my brother is dead.”

“So, what are we going to do?”

“We? There is no ‘we,’ Aurora. You’re just a little girl in over her head. I’m going to get rid of the body.”

“Wait. The body? That’s my father. He needs to be buried. You can’t just put him in some unmarked grave. How will he get into Heaven?”

Beatrice snorts. “He was still teaching you all that religious shit?” She grabs my arms and shakes me. “There is no Heaven, little girl. There’s just you and me and this dangerous world we’re living in. And right now, I need to bury your father’s body before the police come sniffing around. It would be bad for us.”

I jerk away from her. “Bad for us? Or bad for you?”

There’s a twitch in her jaw. “Bad for us. You’re in this now, too. You know a lot more than a lot of other people do. So, I’m going to get rid of his body, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I can call the police.”

“And bring them all down on our heads? God, you’re fucking stupid! Your father was involved in the Mafia. If they suspect you were, too, you’re going to jail. Do you understand that?”

“But I didn’t know a thing.”

“And you’re innocent enough they’ll believe you. But what about me? They’ll come after me and throw me in jail. Do you want that?”

Do I want that? Beatrice, for better or for worse, is the only family I have left. I can’t lose her, too.

I slowly lower my phone. “Fine. But can we please bury him properly? Give him a funeral at least?”

Beatrice’s eyes turn just the tiniest bit soft. “Fine. Jack?” she calls out. He enters the room. I notice he doesn’t even look at my father’s body. “Get a shovel.”

Without question, Jack listens to her command.

I watch Jack shovel dirt onto my father’s body. We’re in the backyard, where Jack has dug a grave for my father. The backyard is acres and acres of land. It will be practically impossible for anyone to find my father’s body. The only way would be if someone knew where to look.

“You’re in this now,” Beatrice says, keeping her eyes glued to my father.

It’s then I realize—this is leverage. She has something on me now. I’m helping to cover up the death of my father even though I wasn’t part of it. If I go to the police, I’ll definitely get arrested for helping to bury my father. Beatrice owns me now.

“I know Nico Mancini was responsible for this,” she continues. “I want him dead for killing Giovanni.”

“Shouldn’t we stop the killing?”

Beatrice turns to me. “You really are so innocent. That needs to change.”

Apprehension fills every part of my body. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about doing what we have to do. Nico Mancini, or someone close to him, killed your father. There would be no one else.”

“What if it was just a burglar?”

“Was anything stolen?”

I know she’s right. I checked while Jack was digging the grave. None of mine or my mother’s jewelry was taken. Not the TV. Not the laptops. All the money my father kept in the safe was still there. Nothing was stolen, which meant someone wanted to kill my father for either revenge or punishment.

“Exactly,” Beatrice says when I don’t reply. “I know this was Nico. No one in LA would dare cross Giovanni or me. We were too powerful. But no one is as powerful as the Mafia of New York.”

“Should we tell the police? About Nico?”

“Aren’t you getting it, girl?” She pinches my arm, making me gasp. “We can’t go to the police. We need to handle this ourselves.”

“How? What are you going to do?”

“No. It’s what you’re going to do.”

Dread settles like a pit in my stomach. “What?”

“I know Nico likes young women. Actually, I heard he’s looking for a wife. A pretty young thing he can parade around. You’re going to get close to him.”

“Why?”

Beatrice shrugs. “So you can kill him.”

All the air is pushed out of my body, and I double forward. Beatrice pulls me back upright. “I can’t kill him. I can’t kill anybody.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I didn’t even know my father was in the Mafia until an hour ago! And now, you want me to go to the most powerful Mafia man there is and kill him? Are you crazy?”

Jack glances at us. “Beatrice, leave Aurora alone.”

“No,” Beatrice snarls. “Just do your job.” Jack hesitates, then goes back to shoveling dirt onto my father. “You can do this, Aurora. Don’t you want justice for your father’s death?”

“I mean, yes?—”

“Ok. So, what’s the problem?”

“I can’t kill anybody,” I hiss.

“Not even the man who killed your own father?”

“You don’t even know it was him.”

Beatrice digs her fingers into my arms and speaks in a low voice. “I know it was him. With every fiber of my being, I know it was Nico Mancini. And I know there’s an opportunity to get close to him. You’ll marry him.”

“How? He doesn’t even know me. And won’t he find it suspicious that I share the same last name as the man he supposedly just murdered?”

“You’ll use a different last name. I can get the paperwork ready. And Nico will be interviewing women to marry later this week. We have a short window of opportunity.”

“Why is he interviewing women to marry? Surely, a powerful man can get any woman.”

“Sure, Nico could, but I know he doesn’t like to put love into things. He’s known as the man without a heart. If he wants to marry, it’s because he wants a pretty girl he can fuck and have babies with. So, that’s why he’s interviewing women. He only needs them for breeding stock.”

My mouth drops open, and it takes a long time for words to form. “And you want to give me to that man?”

“Yes. So you can kill him.”

“And what happens after I kill him? What happens to me?”

“I’ll get you out of there. You’ll be safe.” The way she says it is so flippant. So … casual. Will I really be safe with Beatrice? She’s trying to pimp me out to a Mafia boss for her own gains.

But she’s all I have.

And as I watch my father’s body disappear under the dirt, I know I want justice for his death. If Nico Mancini really did murder my father, then he needs to pay.

I’m just not sure I’m the one who can make him pay.

“I’m not sure, Beatrice.”

She shakes me, making me teeth rattle. “You can do this, Aurora. You’re a beautiful woman. You look just like your mother.” This is the first time Beatrice has ever complimented my looks, especially since I always got the feeling she hated that I looked like my mother, with my golden hair and the freckles on my nose. “Nico won’t be able to resist you.”

“You speak like you know him.”

“I’ve never met him in person. But I’ve heard a lot of talk about him, so I know who he is. He’s just like any other man in this business. Can’t resist a pretty face.”

“But if he’s interviewer other women, then there will be other pretty women there, too. What makes you so sure he’ll chose me?”

“You’ll just have to impress him.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I don’t want to see your face back here in LA. You make your father proud and avenge him.” Or die trying is left unspoken.

“If I say no?” I ask.

“You’re not going to say no.” There’s no room for discussion in Beatrice’s voice. “I’ll buy us the tickets. We’re going to New York.” She walks away while I stare down at the grave. My father is completely covered. I’ll never see him again.

Jack walks over and rests his hand on my shoulder, not saying a word.

Because we both know Beatrice will win, and I have no choice in the matter.

NICO

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Andrew asks.

“Why wouldn’t this be a good idea? I need a wife. You told me to get a wife. So, I’m going to get a wife.” I straighten my jacket and keep walking through my mansion. The women will be arriving any moment, and I need to be there to greet them.

“But, Nico, I told you to get a wife for political gain, not to marry just any woman off the street!”

I turn to Andrew and put my hand on his shoulder. “Andrew, you’re not Italian. You weren’t raised in the Mafia like I was. You only think in terms of power, but for me, I already have more than enough. I’m the most powerful man in New York. I don’t need to marry for political gain. I just want a woman with a pretty smile who won’t get in the way of what we do here.” I clap him on the face and smile. “So, stop worrying.”

“Where did you find these women anyway?”

We resume walking. “I put the word out that I was looking for a bride. Only those with connections to our world will come here, so don’t worry. There won’t be anyone undercover, like a cop. They don’t have the connections to find me. These women are heiresses and Mafia princesses. They’ll serve my purpose.”

Andrew looks like he wants to object but doesn’t. Smart man. He’s been my second-in-command for years now. Short, a little chubby with a bald spot, Andrew is no competition to me. That’s why I like him. He’s loyal.

I enter the foyer, nodding at my guard, Enzo. “Bring them in.”

He opens the door and a group of ten women enter the house. They’re all beautiful—I wouldn’t expect anything less. I’m in need of a wife to fuck, not to love. Beauty is preferred. I don’t need her to have a personality.

“State your names,” I say. “Starting with you.” I nod at a redhead.

She perks up. “Elizabeth Carter. My father is?—”

“I don’t care who your father is. I don’t care who any of your fathers are,” I interrupt, telling all the women. “What I care is that you show me you’ll make a good wife. This isn’t a love connection. This is convenience. If you don’t like that, leave.”

None of them move.

“Good. Now, onto the next. Your name?”

The woman in question is a beautiful blonde. She has a softness to her, unlike the redhead who’s all sharp lines and stark colors. “Aurora,” she says.

“Last name?”

“Keller,” she says. “Aurora Keller.”

I slide my gaze onto the next woman. “Your name?”

AURORA

Beatrice gave me my new documentation. I’m no longer Aurora Costa. I’m Aurora Keller. Beatrice chose the name because it was inconsequential. Unmemorable. And most importantly, not Italian.

My new identity is that I’m heiress to a small fortune. My father is John Keller, a rich businessman who died years ago and left me with all his money. When anyone searches for me, that’s what they’ll find.

They won’t find the truth—that my father was really Giovanni Costa, a Mafia man who was murdered. Probably by Nico Mancini himself.

The flight to New York was long with Beatrice by my side. She wouldn’t stop complaining about everything—from the too-small seats to the bad airplane food. It made my bad nerves even worse, but I didn’t complain, knowing Beatrice would just level her scary gaze onto me, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it again.

She coached me on how I should act. Submissive, sweet, and obedient.

“But you’re already that way, aren’t you?” Beatrice asked snidely.

She told me I better impress Nico and get him to marry me. But once I entered the hotel where all the other women were, I knew I was in trouble. Nine of them were clustered around the hotel lobby, waiting for a car to pick us up. Using her contacts, Beatrice managed to find out where everything was going to take place. She put me on the list for a potential candidate for Nico’s hand, and then there I was, in a hotel in a city I barely knew, looking at a group of stunningly beautiful women.

Beatrice left me alone, telling me she couldn’t be seen, so it was up to me to finish it.

I approached the women. “Hi,” I said.

They looked me over with sneers. So, this wasn’t about making friends. It was a competition for Nico.

“Why are you here?” I asked the redhead nearest to me.

“Because my father wants me to get married, and who better than a rich man like Nico Mancini?”

“I’m Aurora C—” I stopped, “Keller.”

“Elizabeth Carter.”

I looked over Elizabeth, wondering if she knew what Nico really did. If any of these women knew he was involved in the Mafia. Hell, that he ran the Mafia.

I had asked Beatrice for a picture of Nico, but she didn’t have any. I tried looking him up on the internet, but it was like he was a ghost.

“Do you know what he looks like?” I asked Elizabeth.

“No,” she admitted. “But I hope he’s handsome. This is an arranged marriage after all. If there’s no love, he might as well be hot, you know?”

I couldn’t disagree with her, but she was here to find a husband.

I was here to murder a man.

When the car arrived to take us to Nico, my nerves increased tenfold. We were all silent on the drive, and after a long while, we pulled up to a large mansion. It resembled more of a compound than a beautiful home. Armed guards walked around the perimeter. Nico wasn’t messing around.

I still had no idea how I would kill him or get out. Beatrice was still iffy on those details.

She told me to stay in contact with her, but if Nico chose me for his bride, I wasn’t sure how I would manage that.

We were led inside the house, which at least was more beautiful inside than out. Marbel floor. Chandelier overhead. A large staircase leading to a second floor.

And in walked a man who was so handsome, I almost felt my head spin.

It was obvious he was Nico. Just the way he held himself made it clear he owned this place. A shorter, awkward- looking man stood behind Nico, seemingly disgruntled about the situation, given how he glared at us.

When Nico asked for my name, I almost stumbled. I almost said “Aurora Costa,” but I said “Keller.” I did it.

And now, as Nico slides his gaze away and speaks to the blonde woman beside me, I can’t help but feel like I’ve already failed before I’ve even begun.