Ruthless Oath (Cruel Empire #1)

Chapter 1

One

Marchello

The question isn’t if , it’s when .

Because a ticking time bomb always explodes eventually.

I scanned the crowded showroom, keeping an internal inventory of the attendees. Almost every dangerous person I knew had arrived, and it was just a matter of time before one of them made a deadly move.

The Accetti family held an annual car auction at our New York City dealership every fall. My father started the tradition a decade ago, but this year the event didn’t sit well with me. Something was off.

The timer on the figurative explosive device in my head counted down faster. The worst thing was, I didn’t know where the bomb was—what circumstances might occur and who the key players would be.

How was I supposed to figure out which wire to cut to diffuse a situation that hadn’t revealed itself yet? But just because I didn’t know where the problem was didn’t mean there wasn’t one. That much was guaranteed.

With my father underground and a territory war brewing between the leading families, I should have canceled this event, but I was too arrogant for that.

This auction was always good for business. Over the next few days, sales would skyrocket on cars that would go for top dollar because the bidders who didn’t win would want a new ride. Their larger-than-life egos would send them here with the cash in their unclean hands.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I gazed down from the landing at the showroom that housed the luxury cars waiting to be sold for a charitable cause. None of the men who were here pretending to be upstanding citizens could be trusted.

Normally, I only attended these things out of obligation, but this time, I had made it my mission to figure out who forced my father to flee…and why.

My brother, Milo, climbed the stairs to meet me. “Could you stop staring from your perch like an armed guard and go down there and mingle? That limited series Porsche is going to go for a fuck-ton of cash, and you need to facilitate the sale.”

“You think I care about the Porsche?” I swigged the rest of my vodka, letting the smooth liquid linger in my mouth before swallowing. “I have more important shit to deal with.”

“You’re not bringing the old man home tonight, and he would want this event to be successful.”

Milo was right about that. The proceeds from tonight’s auction benefited a charity our late mother was fond of. Our father made it his mission to contribute a sizable donation every year. I didn’t like taking a break from my current focus, though.

I gave my glass to the server responsible for such a task and returned my glare to my brother. “Fine. I’ll handle it.”

“We can’t let him down,” Milo said.

“Don’t you think I know that?” I focused on the entrance of the dealership. “But there’s more than one way to do that.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“There are representatives from each family here tonight,” Milo said. “This is our best chance of getting him back.”

“Hardly,” I quipped bitterly. “No one from the Gallanti family is here.”

My jaw tightened. That particular family had made quite a bit of noise since my father disappeared, causing some issues on the pier when we moved a large shipment.

“That’s not true,” Milo said.

I searched the room; he had to be wrong. I would never have overlooked Gian Gallanti. Still, if I was wrong, I didn’t want to be wrong twice, so I took another survey of all the people here to bid on cars tonight.

“All are represented, Marchello . Gallanti’s ex-wife is over there, and I’m sure she brought his checkbook.” Milo pointed to the table with the high-end baskets of designer bags, expensive bracelets, and exotic weekend getaways being raffled off, then took another round of vodkas from the pretty server. “It cost him a fortune to get out of that marriage so he could trade her in for a newer model.”

I shifted my attention to the young woman accompanying Rosalie Gallanti. Her silky, dark hair flowed down her toned back, and her flawless makeup was painted on her olive complexion. With her short pink dress resting on her mid-thighs and a black fur wrap draping over her bare shoulders, she’d caught the attention of every guy here. Myself included. Though, when I’d seen her earlier, I hadn’t known who she was here with.,

“Who is Rosalie with?” I asked.

“Gian’s daughter, Lissia.”

“ What ?” The last time I was in her presence, she was plagued with pigtails and braces. Now she seemed like a woman on a mission. A mission I’d like to join her on. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen her around the city.” He stared at her like a lion who hadn’t eaten in days. “She’s more than legal now, and every guy in here knows it. She recently graduated from NYU. A year early too.”

“You seem quite familiar with her.” I downed my vodka, trying to bury the ominous sensation settling in my gut.

“I keep up on what’s going on in our world.” He sipped his drink. “I pay attention, Marchello. You should too.”

“Like I have time to worry about what the mafia brats are doing,” I said, then I started down the stairs to the main floor as Milo followed. “The auction should be starting soon.”

Maybe having him as my younger brother all these years dulled me to his goading, or maybe I’d be more irritated if I didn’t have bigger things to worry about at this moment. Either way, any wit he had, he’d learned from me.

Add to the list of things irking me at the moment was that he could glide down these stairs in a rush just as regally as our father and myself.

Milo took my empty glass and set it on a tray by the bottom of the stairs. “Let’s go say hello to Rosalie and her daughter.”

“Why?”

“Because that little sex kitten is staring at you, and I want to see where this goes.”

“It goes nowhere.” I pointed at him. “She’s the mafia princess in a rival family.”

Gian couldn’t be trusted, and by default, neither could his daughter.

“Like that would stop you from a good fuck.”

“I can get a good fuck from a less complicated source.”

“Maybe.” He laughed. “But where would be the fun in that?”

“I don’t have time for this.” I nodded at two potential bidders eyeing the Porsche. “Whoever gets that one is going to be the big winner tonight.”

“I don’t plan on leaving here without it,” said Carmine Raspolli, one of the most infamous gangsters of recent times. He had since retired, handing his territory over to my father a few years ago.

“See.” I twisted to my brother. “Those are the things I need to stay focused on.”

“Glad to hear it, because Rosalie and her very beautiful daughter are coming straight for us. I guess I’ll have to occupy Lissia.”

Rosalie looked at us as if we were part of tonight’s auction. “Well, if it isn’t the Accetti brothers. All grown up too.”

“Mrs. Gallanti.” Milo kissed her over-filled cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Milo, please call me Rosalie.” She waved her hand in the air. “I don’t want to be saddled with that last name for one more second.”

As if anyone would ever see her as more than Gian’s wife.

“Marchello.” Rosalie’s gaze landed on me. “It’s been a long time.”

“I’ve been busy.” I leaned in and kissed both her cheeks. “We’re so glad you and your daughter could join us tonight.”

I nodded at Lissia. Milo was right, she was staring. And if she had been anyone other than Gian’s daughter, I might have considered her.

“Do you remember my daughter?” Rosalie asked. “Isn’t she perfect?”

“Mom.” Lissia rolled her eyes. “Could we not?”

My eyebrow perked. I’d only been joking when I called her a brat, but talking back to her mother like that… I would love for her to take that tone with me and see where that got her.

Why did she have to be Gian’s daughter?

She must have caught my heated stare in that moment because her whole demeanor shifted from curiosity to temptation.

I feel it too. But as soon as I had the thought, I forced a scowl that had her looking at her feet in an instant.

That only aroused me more.

Milo elbowed me. “Don’t you think so?”

“Hmm?” Damn it. I hadn’t listened to a word he’d said. “Forgive me, I saw someone leaning past the ropes surrounding one of the cars. As you were saying?”

“Right,” Milo said with zero ounce of belief in his tone. “I was just agreeing with Rosalie that her daughter is perfect.”

I wouldn’t put it past Milo to lie about such things. He loved to make me look foolish.

“You really think so?” The princess smiled at my brother. She slid a quick smirk to me before looking back at him. “Thank you.”

Was she flirting with him to make me jealous…and then baiting me? A burst of fury coursed through me.

Brave girl.

If Milo fell for her flirty smile, I’d knock out his teeth.

She said, “I haven’t seen you at the club in a few weeks.”

Milo waved the server over who carried a tray of champagne. “I’ve been busy with the dealership. Maybe I’ll get there next week.”

“What club?” I asked.

“Why? You want to join us?” Milo asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No, Milo, I just want an answer to my question, if that’s not too difficult.”

Milo gave me a quick side glance as he took the flutes off a tray and passed them around. “A trendy and exclusive club in downtown Manhattan. Didn’t I tell you about it?”

“No, you didn’t.” I held up my hand, turning down the champagne.

“Oh, it’s a fantastic place!” Lissia said with far too much bubbly energy, then sipped from her flute, pressing her full, pink lips to the rim. “Not really your style, though, of course.”

She’s testing me .

Never one to hide my intentions, I made no attempt to stop gazing at her mouth. “A little rude, don’t you think? Hasn’t your mother taught you any manners?”

Rosalie, oblivious to the subtext of our conversation, gave Lissia’s arm a little pinch. “Show some respect, Lissia!”

Lissia let out a little squeal. “Mother!”

I chuckled.

Rosalie glared in response until Lissia calmed and refocused her attention back on me, a little more subdued.

“Forgive me,” Lissia said, though she couldn’t help the sarcasm slipping in. “I’m sure you’d love it. Maybe you’d even find something… interesting there.”

Milo saluted with his drink. “Maybe he’ll find something interesting here .”

I leveled my gaze at my brother. “As I told you, there are less complicated ways to get what I want.”

I twisted to walk away, but Milo grabbed my arm. “Hold on a second. I have a question for you after we wrap things up here.”

Rosalie glanced between my brother and me. “Oh, don’t let me hold you up. I was just heading off anyway to meet some friends for drinks.”

“I’ll go with you.” Lissia downed her glass of champagne and shoved the flute at me like I was part of the staff. “It was good seeing you, Marchello.”

“Come with your mother to see her friends? Nonsense,” Rosalie said. “You stay here. Your father is meeting you later, and I want to be gone before that happens.”

Lissia touched her mother’s arm. “I don’t want you to go alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” Rosalie swiped her long blonde hair to the side. “Besides, you should wait and see if you won any of the baskets. You put enough tickets in the one with the Gucci bag.”

Lissia’s face flushed a beautiful crimson. “So did you!”

“If they call my name, you can keep it. Gian pays me enough alimony that I can buy as many bags as I want. I only wanted to participate in the raffle because it’s for such a good cause.” She turned to me and added, “I know how fond your mother was of it. Helping young mother’s get on their feet after having a baby is a worthy cause. A strong start is so important.”

“Thank you.” I nodded. “My father would appreciate that.”

“Where is your father?” Lissia asked. “I didn’t see him tonight.”

Your scum father probably ran him out of town. “He’s away on business.”

“ Oh.” She shrugged. “I thought it was odd he’d miss such an important night for your family.”

What do you know about my family, brat? I’d gone from wanting her to wanting her intel in the span of ten seconds.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Perhaps I was the impending explosion of the night.

“I’m leaving. Don’t get into any trouble.” Rosalie hugged her daughter, then winked at me. “Trouble has a way of finding Lissia.”

“I’m sure Marchello knows all about trouble.” Lissia kissed her mom’s cheek. “Let Michael take you where you’re going.”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t take your driver. I’ll call a rideshare.”

“Ma, it’s all good. Dad will take me home later,” Lissia said. “I insist you go with Michael.”

“I don’t want you to be alone.” Rosalie looked at me. “Unless… you’d be willing to look after her?”

What the hell?

“My brother would love to.” Milo took Rosalie’s arm. “Let me escort you to your car.”

Only my brother could try to be my wingman and still goad me at the same time.

“Such a gentleman, just like your father.” Rosalie gladly took my brother’s assistance. She had a reputation for sleeping with most of Gian’s staff. “Love you, baby girl.”

“Love you.” Lissia waved at her mother before glancing at me. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

“Unfortunately.” I set her champagne flute on the cocktail table behind me. “Feel free to mingle, but don’t cause any trouble. I’ll keep an eye on you while I check a few things for the auction.”

“I don’t need you to ‘keep an eye’ on me.” She ran her thumb along her bottom lip, drawing my gaze to that pretty mouth again. “I’m going to get another drink.”

I reached for her arm as she tried to walk away. It wouldn’t take long for the men in this room to realize the guard she had come with left with her mother, and I didn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to her even if she did irritate me.

At least, not until I figured out what she knew.

“You will not be walking off and getting trashed like this is one of the sleazy clubs you frequent.”

“Are you telling me what to do?”

“What if I am?” I wished at that moment she wasn’t Gian’s daughter. I would bend her over my knee and spank her in front of everyone for her backtalk. “Would you listen?”

She laughed in my face. “Listen to you? I’d make you regret it.”

Oh, one of us would have regrets, for sure.

“I’m going to get that drink.” She eyed me defiantly and glanced down at my fingers still wrapped around her arm. “You can let go of me now.”

“Now you’re trying to tell me what to do?” I tightened my hold on her arm. “Someone really needs to teach you some respect. The hard way. ”

Her chestnut eyes widened, but only for a second, then a grin graced her lips.

I was close to ten years older than her and came from a brutal family who spared no one. Why wasn’t she afraid of me?

I let go of her arm and tugged on her wrap. “You shouldn’t wear fur. It’s inhumane.”

“And you shouldn’t launder money," she snipped back. “It’s illegal.” Then, after another gaze around the showroom floor, she added, “And for the record? It's faux.”

Real or fake, it would look better on the floor of my bedroom.

“Anyway, I suppose you can keep an eye on me.” She ran her hand along the fur, knocking the wrap off her shoulder. She peeked up at me with innocence just as fake as her fur. “Can we get a drink?”

I motioned for her to go to the bar. “After you.”

I wanted a good look at the ass I’d be spanking later tonight.

As I followed her, I came back to my senses. Gian’s daughter. Gian’s daughter. Gian’s daughter.

This was all a big dose of absolutely not .

“You own all of this?” she asked.

“Along with my family.”

“This is my favorite one.” She practically skipped over to the black one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar Corvette in the center of the room, leaving her strawberry scent to linger between us. “Does it come in pink?”

“Pink?” So much for her taste in cars.

“Yes, like the color of this dress?” She ran her palm along her toned stomach. “Fuchsia, really.”

“I can have it customized.”

“Cool.” She peered inside. “It’s sleek.”

“Get in.” I opened the door. “Let’s see how you look behind the wheel.”

“Sweet.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “My father promised me a car after I graduated from college, but I traveled all summer so we never got around to buying one.”

“What a shame, princess.” I had to admit, she looked hot in that car. A pink one would suit her.

“When my dad gets here later, we can tell him I want one like this in fuchsia.” She studied the digital dashboard. “You can make the sale.”

“I have people who do that for me.” No way in hell would I sell a car to Gian Gallanti.

“What if I want you to do it?”

“We can’t always get everything we want.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “What do you want that you can’t have?”

You . I extended my hand and helped her out of the car, catching a peek of her inner thighs before she stood. “None of your business.”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I always get what I want.”

“That’s because no one has it in them to tell you no.” I eyed her up and down. “And it doesn’t seem like you’ve ever been put in your place either.”

Too bad I couldn’t be the one to handle such a delicious task.

“My place?” She set her hand on her hip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means spoiled little girls with big attitudes should know not to provoke a man they can’t handle.”

“You think I can’t handle you?” Her throaty giggle intrigued me.

“I know you can’t handle me.”

“Are you always such a jerk?”

“This?” I leaned against the Corvette. “This is nothing.”

“ No one can put me in my place,” she said, enunciating every word as if issuing a challenge. Without missing a beat, she straightened my tie, rested her hands on my chest, then ran her delicate fingertips against my neck. “I’m bored with this conversation. I’ll find you later.”

When she turned to leave, I grabbed her hand and brought her back to me.

“You’re awfully forward,” she said. “Luckily for me, I’m used to your type.”

“My type?” I shook my head. “I’m sure men like me aren’t walking around the campus of NYU.”

“How did you know I went there?”

I would have to thank Milo for that information later. “I’m good at my job.”

“Isn’t your job selling cars?”

“Among other—”

“I’ll kill you,” a man shouted from the entryway of the dealership.

Milo and some of our security rushed toward the commotion. I placed my hand on my gun in the holster inside my jacket.

Lissia scurried to the front of the Corvette as the unmistakable bang of gunshots echoed throughout the showroom.

“Fuck.” I drew my gun as people frantically took cover behind the cars.

In the split second it took me to raise my weapon, one of the shooters took aim, putting Lissia in the crossfire.