Vicious Union: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance (The De Luca Mafia #3)

1. Emilio

I’m on the hunt for Dante Romano.

The bastard has caused a lot of trouble for my family. First, he and his father tried to overthrow my father as leader of the Italian Mafia in New York. Second, he kidnapped my younger sister, Gabriella, and my older brother’s wife, Lara. And lastly, he pretended to befriend my other older brother, Massimo, to gain information about the family and drive a wedge between us.

Well, the last one didn’t work. My family is as strong as we’ve ever been. Now that Rocco, my oldest brother, is in charge of the Mafia and happy with his wife, he’s never been more confident. He’s sent me on a manhunt for Dante, who was spotted in Queens, doing god knows what. Probably trying to build his own influence. Though how he thinks he can manage that in Queens, I’m not sure.

As the youngest brother in the De Luca family, I’m given most of the grunt work, which I’m all right with. I don’t complain. I know my duty to my family. I’ll do what I have to do to make sure everyone stays safe.

But riding along with me today is Massimo. The reason being—Rocco is still a little angry with him for befriending Dante after everything he tried to do us. Which also includes trying to kill Rocco before.

“Put your phone away,” I grumble, keeping my eyes on the road.

Massimo sighs. “How did you know? You’re not even looking at me.”

“Because I know you, Massimo. We have a job to do. One Rocco expects us to finish. So, keep your eyes out. We’re looking for the building Dante was spotted in.”

“I am looking. I’m a skilled multitasker; I’ll have you know. I can look at my phone and keep an eye on the road.”

I snort. “No, you can’t. You’re the opposite of a multitasker. You can only focus on one thing at a time.” I briefly slide my eyes over to him. “Why are you even on your phone anyway? We have a job to do.”

“I was just checking in with Ophelia.” That’s his wife. They married six months ago, so their relationship is still new, but they love each other. It’s obvious whenever they invite me over for family dinners.

I find love a bit sickening, actually. It seems like a waste of time. I’d prefer to focus my efforts on productive things like catching Dante before he can cause more chaos than he already has.

“Well, Ophelia knows you’re at work right now,” I snap, turning the corner. “So, put your phone away.”

“You don’t understand the responsibilities of having a wife, Emilio. Once Rocco forces you to marry someone for political gain, you’ll understand.”

“Rocco won’t force me to marry someone. He knows I’m not very nice. No woman would want me.”

Massimo chuckles as he pulls his phone back out, I notice. “That’s because you’re always scowling.”

“I’m not always scowling.”

He looks at me. I glance at myself in the rearview mirror and see I am indeed scowling.

“Well, that’s just because you annoy me,” I say.

He laughs again, shaking his head, his eyes back on his phone. “Rocco will make you marry someone. Trust me. He has three siblings, all of whom will make him good political matches. I did with Ophelia. Now, it’s your turn. And soon, it’ll be Gabriella’s turn. I think she’ll be the worst. She’ll go kicking and screaming and clawing her way down the aisle.”

The image makes me laugh. “Well, I know my duty. If Rocco says I have to marry someone, then fine. I’ll marry someone. But I’m not going to waste my time getting to know her or falling in love with her as you have with Ophelia. I have more important things to do.” I pause. “And besides, I can get any woman I want. One night stands work for me. Relationships, not so much.”

“I thought the same thing until I met Ophelia. Now, there’s no other woman for me. You could say the same about Rocco when it comes to Lara. Give love a chance, brother.”

I snort. “No. Now, keep your eyes out. We’re here.” I pull up to the shabby abandoned building where Dante was spotted by one of Rocco’s other men. He has spies who spend their days driving around and staking out the city.

Massimo and I get out of the car and slowly approach the building. He runs a hand through his dark hair, so much like my own. From the outside, we could almost pass as twins—dark hair, tall, broad shouldered. But it’s obvious Massimo and I are very different people. I’m twenty-nine and ready to focus on my career. Massimo is thirty-one, and despite how much he’s grown since meeting his Ophelia, he still has that party energy about him. Just instead of partying with random women, now he just wants to go home and party with his wife.

The door creaks as I push it open, and I wince. Dante can’t know we’re here. We need to catch him and … well, probably kill him. I know Rocco wants him dead, so he can’t cause more trouble. I’m ready to do what I have to do for my family.

Though, I haven’t killed that many people before. A few bad men but nothing else. Dante is different. I know Dante. I’ve spent time with Dante in the past before he decided to come for my family. It’s going to be strange killing someone I actually know.

A mice scurries past, making Massimo jump back. “Yeesh. I hate those fuckers. Riddled with disease.”

“Massimo, know is not the time to be worried about mice. Dante could still be in here somewhere.”

“Dante is here,” a new voice says.

A man steps out of the shadows—one with dark hair and even darker eyes. Dante.

I raise my gun. “Stop right there.”

Dante holds his hands up. “I’m not here to fight. Besides, you guys trespassed onto my property.”

“You really need to do some light cleaning around the place,” Massimo mutters.

Dante turns to him. “Massimo, good to see you again. How have things been?”

“Good, actually. You know, ever since you backstabbed me.”

“It was just business.”

“Enough,” I interrupt. “Dante, we’re here to deliver a message. You need to stop. Stop coming after our family. Stop trying to gain power.”

“Or what?” His eyes gleam with a darkness that sends a chill down my spine.

“Or we’ll be forced to kill you,” I say. “We came here to do this.” I angle the gun at his leg. “So you can’t run away.” I fire.

Dante jerks back time to avoid getting hit. “That’s not fair. I haven’t even done anything in the past six months. Why is Rocco so hell-bent on coming after me? I’m just living my life.”

“You’re planning something,” Massimo says. “Give it up now and leave the city. This is Rocco’s one warning. If you don’t, we’ll find you again, and this time, my brother won’t miss.”

Dante huffs. “Rude. But fine, I’ll leave the city. You don’t have to kill me.”

“I don’t believe you,” I say, tightening my hands around the gun. “You’re not going to just leave.”

“No, I will. I promise.”

His words are hollow to me. “No. This was the warning, Dante. You have to die.” I angle the gun higher toward his head, but Dante is already running away.

Massimo and I share a look before we follow.

We chase him through the building, but Dante jumps out of a window at the last second and manages to escape down an alleyway before we can catch him.

“Dammit,” Massimo mutters. “How’s he so fucking fast?”

“He’s spent the better part of a year and half on the run. Of course, he’s fucking fast. But he knows we’re onto him now, and he knows we’re not messing around. Next time, we don’t chit-chat. We go in for the kill.”

Massimo whistles and raises his eyebrows as we head back to our car. “When did you become so ruthless?”

“I’m just tired of Dante making a mockery out of us. He needs to be dealt with. I don’t care for insolence.”

“Man, the woman you have to marry someday will be one lucky lady.”

I scowl, ignoring his sarcasm as I start the car and drive away.

* * *

I endup at the nightclub my brothers and I own, ready to find a woman to spend the night with when my eyes land on someone vaguely familiar. She’s just as pretty as any other woman here—arguably more so—with her blonde hair and petite frame.

But the longer I look at her the more I’m convinced I am I’ve seen her before.

She’s clearly flirting with a man, running her hand over his chest and batting her eyes. For some reason, that annoys me.

I get up and walk over to her. “Excuse me,” I say to the man she’s talking to.

He glances at me. “Man, we’re talking here.”

“I know. I’m not blind. But I want to talk to this woman, so if you could leave.”

“Dude, I’m not leaving.”

The woman looks between us with a clear excitement in her eyes. “Are you going to fight over me? Because if you are, I’ll gladly watch.”

I step in front of the man. “Do I know you?” I ask her.

She blinks, her pouty lips parting in surprise. “I’m not sure. I don’t come here often.” She flings her hair over her shoulder in what’s clearly an attempt to be sexy, but it only comes across as fake to me.

“No, I know you from somewhere.” Then it dawns on me. “You were at Massimo and Ophelia’s wedding. You’re the daughter of … Francesco Russo, aren’t you?”

Her eyes widen, and for a second, I see her slight panic before she smooths out her expression. “I have no idea who you’re talking about. I’m nobody. Just a girl at a club looking to have some fun. So, if you’re not going to provide me with any fun, how about you get out of my way and let me talk to John.”

I frown. “John?”

“The man I was talking to.” She points behind me. When I turn around to look, I spot John talking to another woman. And when I turn back to her, I notice she’s quickly walking away from me. “Hold on.” I run up to her, grabbing her arm.

She gasps. “How dare you touch me.”

“You just said you were a nobody. I’m a somebody in this city. I can touch you all I want.”

“Ugh, fine.” She wrenches away from me. “Fine. I am Francesco’s daughter, happy?”

“What’s your name?”

She crosses her arms and looks at me suspiciously. “I don’t have to tell you that.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“No,” she says, shrugging. “Am I supposed to?”

“I’m Emilio De Luca.”

Her eyes widen again.

“So, you do know who I am,” I say. “And I know your father. So, let me ask you this: what is the daughter of a well-known mobster doing at a club all by herself? Does your father know you’re here?”

She scoffs. “Of course, he knows I’m here.”

“Really? Because I can give him a call and find out.”

Her shoulders deflate slightly. “You don’t have to do that. I’m an adult. I’m twenty-one now. I’m more than capable of going to the club by myself.”

“He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

She glances at the exit right before she takes off running.

“Shit,” I mutter and run after her.

It doesn’t take me long to catch her. She’s in heels after all, though I am slightly impressed she could run as fast as she did in them. But I’m even more annoyed with her than before.

I grab her arm once we’re out of the club. “Slow down.”

“Why does it matter what I do?” she asks, ripping her arm out of my grip. “Did my father send you to spy on me?”

“No. I just saw you in there, but I have to say, as a Mafia daughter, you should be more careful.”

“So? I was just at the club. It’s not like I was partaking in a fight ring or something. You’re not my father’s spy nor are you my boyfriend, so why do you care what I get up to?”

“I don’t, not really. But I do know your father. Francesco is a kind man. His daughter shouldn’t be at the club flirting with me and getting into trouble. What will your future husband think?”

“I think he wouldn’t care since he doesn’t exist.”

“You have a mouth on you,” I growl. I much prefer my women docile. I don’t like ones full of sass, and it’s clear Francesco Russo’s daughter is just that—sass incarnate.

“Ugh, you’re annoying. I was just in there enjoying a night of dancing, but you’re acting like I was partaking in an orgy. Mafia men, I fucking swear,” she mutters.

“What’s your name?”

“Why?”

“So I can tell your father I found you at a club, cussing and wearing skimpy clothes.” My eyes linger on her body. Even though she’s dressed in a way too tight black dress, she looks good in in.

“Skimpy clothes?” She makes a sound that’s a cross between a laugh and a scoff. “Ok, then. I’m out of here.”

“Your name?”

“I’m not telling you,” she shouts back.

I huff. Of course, she’s going to be insolent. But fuck it. I don’t care. It’s not like I’m going to see Francesco Russo’s daughter ever again.

* * *

Rocco callsme over for a meeting, just the two of us.

“What’s going on?” I ask when I step into his office.

“I have some news,” he says, motioning for me to sit. “I’ve been thinking for a while about making a political marriage match with you.”

Here it comes. I brace myself. “So, you want me to get married, is that it?”

“It’s time, Emilio,” he says. Given the fact Rocco is only five years older than me, he looks much older than that now. I think the pressure of leading is taking a slight toll on him, but he still looks distinguished. My eyes flit to the picture of him and Lara on his desk. They’re a good looking couple with his dark looks and her striking blue eyes and brown hair. They look so happy in that photo. I’ve never seen my brother smile so much as when he’s with Lara.

Will I change like that after I’m married? I doubt it.

“Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll do my duty. Just tell me who I’m marrying.”