Chapter 4
Chapter four
The Past
“Your papi might have been a fucking asshole, but he knew a good deal when he saw one,” Giovanni said, scanning the contract.
I had just signed with the French to ensure the Aiani name expanded across Europe and became one of the most successful arms dealers.
“And they agreed to continue doing business with you instead?”
“Si. After what we discussed two weeks ago, I even managed to negotiate a higher percentage,” I said, trying not to sound too smug.
Yes, my padre had set up the contracts before he died, but I was the one who finally got the French to sign off on them.
Thanks to Giovanni and Cecilia’s guidance and advice, I went into that meeting looking more confident than I felt, and it paid off.
It was my first real success since I’d become Boss, and hopefully it would go a long way towards earning me more respect.
“Bravo,” Gio said, handing the contract back to me. “Impressive. You’re proving yourself a quick learner.”
I smiled, picked up my glass of brandy, and took a sip. I tried not to gag at the bitterness. I fucking hated Brandy. The smell reminded me of my padre, and I would rather forget he’d ever existed. But Giovanni and Maximus were both drinking it, so I felt compelled to order the same.
I’d been Boss of the Aiani empire for just under a year, and every day I still woke up absolutely terrified.
Terrified that someone would look at me and see through the bravado and fake confidence.
They’d know that beneath the designer suit and perfectly groomed hair was a frightened boy winging it, just trying to survive another day in the brutality of our world.
Even now, sitting in the Buccinis’ home nightclub, drinking with the wealthiest and most successful mafia boss in Northern Italy, I still felt like an imposter. I didn’t belong here or with these people. But the problem was, I didn’t know where I belonged or who I really was.
“Keep this up, Kid, and you’ll be as rich as us soon enough,” Max chuckled, clinking his glass against mine.
I clenched my jaw, hating that he called me a kid.
It was undermining and disrespectful, a reminder that they still didn’t see me as their equal.
I was a Boss. The fact I’d only been on this Earth for twenty years didn’t change that.
I might have been young and lacked experience, but I was savvy.
I knew that proving my loyalty to the Buccinis would only benefit me in the long run, and I knew I had a lot to learn.
Hence why I was nestling under Giovanni’s wing and hoping the man could teach me a few things.
My papi had done a shit job of preparing me for anything other than how to shoot a gun, torture a man, and that the worst thing you could be in life was gay.
“Have the threats stopped?” Gio asked, lowering his voice just below the boom of the music.
I exhaled and shook my head. I’d been receiving death threats since I took over from my padre.
There had also been three attempts on my life.
Two were orchestrated by other mafia families, who saw me as an easy target, though I couldn’t prove it to the commission.
One was by my own soldier. He’d come into my bedroom in the night and tried to slit my throat.
Luckily, I slept with my gun under my pillow and shot him between the eyes before the blade connected with my skin.
I couldn’t trust anyone. Maximus, Giovanni’s underboss, was the only man I knew who would never try to kill me because he was married to my sister. That was why I felt safest next to him and Giovanni. No one would try anything if I had their protection.
“Want to know the quickest way to gain respect in this world?” Max asked, retying his man bun. I frowned, leaning forward, ready for any bones they might throw my way. “Marry and have an heir. Then they will all back off. It’s the only way to secure your position.”
“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” Gio added, nodding his head.
My stomach twisted. Marriage. An heir. I was only twenty, for fuck’s sake.
“Elenora is single. Only a few years older than you, too,” Max said, chuckling as Giovanni’s dark gaze snapped to him in warning.
“Shut your fucking mouth, Max. You know I’ll never force my sister into an arranged marriage.”
Max held up his hands. “Just saying. We’re already family through Cami, and the kid’s not a fucking prick. There are worse options for Elle.”
“Eh, wow. Grazie,” I snorted. “And I’m not a fucking kid.”
“Your ears must have been burning!” Max shouted, looking past my shoulder at whoever was approaching.
I twisted in my seat to find my sister Cami, Giovanni’s fiancée Olivia, and his sister Elenora.
But it wasn’t the stunning ladies who had me frozen to my chair and my cheeks darkening to an embarrassing shade under the strobe lighting.
It was the soldier standing behind Elenora.
The same Buccini soldier who had calmed me down when I could still taste my father’s brain matter in my mouth.
The man who had consumed my thoughts more than I liked over the past year.
Finn.
“Mine?” Elenora said, slamming her hands over her ears. “Why are you talking about me?”
“No reason,” Giovanni cut in sharply, rising to greet the ladies. “Elle, this is Enzo Aiani, Boss of the Aiani clan. You might remember him from—”
“I remember,” she interrupted, meeting my gaze with a soft smile. She had been there that night, sitting across from me, when my father suggested she be my future bride before Salvatore shot him dead. “You look… older.”
“Time does that,” I replied, standing up and taking her hand, guiding her into our booth.
My gaze flicked over her shoulder to the man behind her, and he folded his muscular arms across his chest, taking a protective stance.
Our eyes locked, and my stomach swooped.
Fuck, he was even more attractive than I remembered.
No. I couldn’t have these thoughts. Poison.
I liked women. Only women. I refocused on Elenora and smiled.
“Are you home for the weekend? Giovanni mentioned you’re at university.”
“Si. Just home for two days. I have an exam on Monday, so I have to head back.”
“What are you studying?”
“Fine art and the history of art culture.”
“That’s…” I couldn’t think of a word. Why couldn’t I think of a word? Because Finn’s intense gaze was fixed on the side of my face, and my whole body was simmering in his heat.
She laughed. “You don’t have to pretend to be interested. Art isn’t for everyone.”
I smiled and picked up my drink, trying to hide how my brain was malfunctioning.
The next few hours passed in a blur. Talk of business was out the window with the ladies present, and the atmosphere was relaxed and casual.
For a moment, I could pretend I was socialising with friends, not allies.
It felt… good. Nice. But it also made me realise how lonely I was.
The alcohol was hitting, and the buzz it ignited lowered my guard a little, especially around Elenora.
She was lovely. Bubbly, fun, and easy to talk to.
Most mafia women I had come across were always so submissive and timid.
My sister and mother, for example, were constantly put down by our father and treated worse than the dirt beneath his shoe.
I’d been raised in a household where women were silent unless spoken to and existed for men’s entertainment.
It made me sick to watch how he’d treated them.
On the occasions I’d tried to intervene, I’d been beaten within an inch of my life, and Cami had begged me not to do it again.
It made everything worse for all of us when I tried to stop him.
That was why I was so relieved she’d married into this family.
They were different. They cared for and loved their women fiercely.
They protected them instead of mistreating them. Elenora was an example of that.
No matter how beautiful she was, my attention kept being drawn to the dark figure standing behind her, always watching.
Constantly watching. I realised he was Elenora’s personal bodyguard and that it was his job to watch.
But did he have to watch me so intensely?
It was making my dick twitch with unwanted need. He needed to fuck the fuck off.
“I’m going to bed,” Elenora suddenly declared to the group, standing up, a little unsteady on her feet. I jumped up and caught her elbow, while Finn stepped forward and took her other one. She giggled, looking between us.
“Look at that! Two handsome men coming to my rescue!” She laughed, wobbling in her heels. “Shame one is gay, and the other looks like a runway model, so not my type. No offence.”
My eyes widened, and a strike of pure panic shot through me.
Then I realised the gay man she was referring to was Finn.
I hadn’t just been outed. Finn’s eyes narrowed at me in a lethal warning, and I removed my hand from her arm.
Why the fuck had I done that? He was a high-ranking soldier. I was a Boss. I could do what I liked.
“Let me help you,” I said, placing her hand in the crook of my arm.
“I’ve got her,” Finn growled, throwing her arm over his shoulder and pulling her into his side.
“Don’t fight over me, boys. You can both help me if you really feel that strongly about it.
Wait!” She suddenly bent at the waist, stumbled again, and removed her heels.
She shoved them into Finn’s chest. “Finn can carry my shoes. They are more precious to me than my life.” She grabbed my arm and smiled up at me in a drunken daze.
“And you, Enzo Aiani, can protect me from all the trouble my brother thinks I can get into while walking from this club in my own house up to my bedroom.”