3. Romeo
3
ROMEO
E ven though I spent all day working at the house, hauling out bags and bundles of ripped-out wallpaper, I wasn’t calling it a night yet.
Just like Franco and I decided, we would keep up with gathering intel for this war my father declared against the Giovanni Family and the Devil’s Brothers MC. So, by day, I avoided being idle by renovating that house. And by night, I met up with the spies I’d delegated to follow the bikers.
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything new to tell you,” Andy, one of my spies, said. He shrugged as he cradled a beer bottle between his hands. He was a bourbon drinker, but to blend in near this part of the city and stay undercover, he was trying to look more like a middle-class, blue-collar working man.
I sighed and shook my head. “No. It’s all right.” I sat up straighter, regretting that I might have pulled my back dragging debris and junk out of the house earlier. I was only thirty-one. I wasn’t old yet. But maybe I was overdoing it.
He chuckled, noticing my wince. “Work out too hard or something?” He smirked before taking a sip of his beer. “Like father, like son.”
I grunted a laugh. My father did enjoy working out a lot. He was so much of a gym junkie that he renovated and arranged for a state-of-the-art gym at the mansion. However, it seemed Nina also enjoyed exercising. I stopped going to work out there as often when I walked in on them getting a quickie in between reps.
I furrowed my brow, annoyed that I couldn’t shed this envy. I wanted that. I wished for that feeling of just fitting with someone so perfectly, but I doubted any such woman was made for me like that.
“I hope no news is good news,” Andy added. He’d been undercover spying on the Devil’s Brothers bikers for over a month now. Several others were always watching them. Together, they didn’t have much to report.
The Devil’s Brothers MC was new on the scene here. Motorcycle gangs came and went. Mafia families, like the Constellas, Giovannis, and even the Domino Family, were organizations that had been established many generations ago. The Dominos were taken out by the bikers, but that wasn’t the norm. Still, there was much to learn about these elusive bikers trying to claim a place of power.
“I wouldn’t say that no news is good news,” I replied seriously. I saw no point in lying. “Because they know that we’ve identified them as our enemies.”
Andy nodded, frowning at his beer bottle. “I hope Nina is recovering from being kidnapped.”
“Oh, she’s doing fine. Happy about the baby and in love with my father.” I shrugged.
He grinned, looking the part of an ordinary man teasing a friend at this bar. “It’s pretty wild. Once they marry, she’ll be your stepmom.”
I gave him a deadpanned look, not wanting to humor him.
“She’s what, like a couple years younger than you?”
I exhaled long and hard, not taking the bait.
“All right. All right.” He set his empty bottle on the bar. “Enough teasing. It’s not like there aren’t other couples in the Family with years separating them.”
My father and Nina had a significant age gap, but if it worked for them, who was Andy—or anyone else—to judge?
Maybe that’s what I need. A younger woman to teach and educate about how hard I like it. An experienced, older woman would likely be too damn independent to consider being submissive.
“Anyway,” Andy said, bringing me back to the reason I came way out here to chat at the bar. While it was disappointing that he didn’t have much intel to share about the movements of the Devil’s Brothers men, I was glad to have a chance to check in with him. Ever since I'd failed to save my other Mafia brothers, I’d adopted a habit of trying to supervise them all.
“I’ll keep looking and listening.”
I clapped him on his back. “Good. I appreciate it.”
Andy huffed. “Well, it’s my job.”
True. And he’d do it well. “Just make sure you report to me.”
“Not Dante.” Andy raised his brows. “He’s the one who put me on this assignment to begin with. I gotta admit, I was surprised when you showed up.”
I nodded. “Yes. Me. I’m taking over this part of preparation. All intel about the MC will be reported to me.”
“What about Franco?” he asked.
“He’s heading up gathering the intel about the Giovannis.” We’d schemed a two-pronged approach. With Stefan aligning with Reaper, combining the rival Mafia Family with the bikers, Franco and I could divide our attention in half. This spared my father from getting too involved.
“My father needs this time to focus on Nina. They’re getting ready for the baby. And after that, planning their wedding.” I stretched again, hating the tension in my muscles. I didn’t intend to stay long. It was clear that I needed a good night of rest. “Franco and I intend to stay on top of getting the intel we need to attack those fuckers.”
Andy didn’t argue, nodding and standing. I stood as well, tossing several bills to the bar top to cover our drinks and then some.
“If you ask me, Dante’s been overdue for some love in his life.”
My father had been all work and no play for too long. “Agreed.”
As we walked toward the exit of the bar, I noticed the few stragglers, likely regulars who would stay until last call. This place was a hole in the wall, a dump that no crime family, club, or gang considered their turf. As such, it was ideal for meeting up with spies. Andy and I agreed on another meeting a couple of weeks from now, and I watched as he turned to the east and headed out into the night. For the sake of not looking like we knew each other out here, where anyone could be watching, we parted without any further farewell.
Fatigue slithered through me as I walked toward the west, where I’d parked in a dark lot. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, but it was impossible to slack in checking my surroundings. I was alert as I strolled through the alley, always ready for an ambush or attack. That was simply part of the job description, I supposed.
This alley interested two long rows of businesses, but no skyscrapers blocked out the streetlamps. Dim lights offered me the way forward. Other than the distant thumping bass from nightclubs that would stay open for hours into the morning, it was quiet. Save for my footsteps, it was silent back here, giving the illusion of peace. The city never truly slept, though.
Nearing the lot where I’d parked my car, I heard something else, though. Grunts. Muffled noises from someone’s mouth. When a whimper reached me as I walked past the rear entrance of another smaller bar, I sped up.
I knew those sounds. I’d caused those sounds. Grunts that paired with the force of flesh against flesh as I fucked a woman hard. Muted moans of someone being gagged. The whimpers could only be the result of someone in pain or afraid. That was what prompted me to sprint faster and intervene.
I’d tortured and killed many people in my line of work. It was almost hypocritical of me to want to intervene in someone else performing either of those tasks. The difference was that I knew my actions were always just—in the name of protecting my family and organization.
The three man holding down a woman and fucking her was not just. Not one goddamn bit.
I ran faster, oblivious to keeping guard. If they had another person looking out, I wouldn’t know it.
As red colored my vision and my heart raced with the adrenaline rush of impending violence, I stared at the gang rape and anticipated the sweet promise of making them regret it.
“Hey. Hey!” The man fucking her ass noticed me first. His sick grin shifted into a scowl of confusion. Then he glared with anger. “Fuck off, man.”
My fist landed on his face, cutting off his orders. I punched him so hard that he flew back, slamming to the pavement.
“Whoa. Dude?—”
I kicked the other man from behind, preventing him from finishing his words. He’d been fucking her from the front, sandwiching the terrified blonde. With his legs splayed apart, his balls were exposed and vulnerable. I slammed my shoe between his legs, smashing him where he was most vulnerable in the middle of the act.
He was too slow to fall. I grabbed him as he cried out and doubled over, wrenching him off the woman.
Her big blue eyes widened at me. Behind the tears, she stared at me with horror.
If I weren’t consumed with rage, I might have slowed down enough to realize she feared me as another man to rape her, but that wasn’t the case. “I won’t hurt you,” I told her as I turned to the third man.
He was still in the process of pulling his pants up, clumsy with trying to stow his wet dick inside and zip up. It seemed he’d already had his turn.
“Fuck you. Just fuck off, dude. Nothing to see here,” he said with a bravado that wouldn’t hold up once I reached him.
Grabbing his hair, I slammed his head down to my knee. Once. Twice.
Crack.
There it was. With his nose smashed in, blood spurting out fast, I spun him. Still holding his hair, I cinched the strands tighter, damn near scalping him with the hold. “Nothing to see?” I punched him directly in both of his eyes. “Yeah. Nothing to see.” I’d be shocked if he wasn’t blind after that.
I let the man drop to his knees, glad that my back blocked the woman’s view. She was sobbing, heaving for air past the fabric they’d tied around her mouth. Already violated and terrified, I didn’t need her to witness my wrath.
Before the other two men could run away, staggering on their knees from my hits, I pulled out my phone and took pictures of them both. They escaped, fleeing quickly, but I wasn’t done with them. I’d only begun to exact my vengeance.
After I helped this woman to safety, I’d find them and finish the lesson of what happened when they preyed on someone weaker.
“I won’t hurt you,” I repeated to the woman lying on the pavement. She shook, crying and scrambling to get away, and my heart ached at what she’d suffered.
I didn’t know who she was. I didn’t know where she came from. But she sure as hell hadn’t deserved this.
I crouched lower to help her, keeping my hands up and letting her see that I wasn’t trying to hurt her. My shoe slipped as I stepped on her ripped, bloody panties, and my rage intensified. She was wounded, by them or otherwise, and my instinct to help kicked in.
“Let me help you.”
She sobbed harder, shaking her head as I reached out and pulled her skirt back down.
Her hands were bloodied and scraped. So were her knees. Blood streaked down her inner thighs, and that sight promised those men’s deaths.
They’d taken her virginity in the worst fucking way possible.
“I will help you,” I vowed.
I didn’t know what convinced her. Maybe she’d simply given in, so scared that she couldn’t fight back.
How? I struggled to concentrate after the rush of intervening and stopping those men.
Fuck. I didn’t know what else to do with her so broken and bloody. If anyone else came close, they’d assume I’d done this. That I’d raped her. Calling the cops was out of the question. I was a Mafia prince, a wanted man. I didn’t work with the law, but I had to help this woman.
“Let me help you.” I reached out to scoop her into my arms, and I carried her to my car. She cried, sobbing and fighting to get free, but I held her close until I got her to my car.
Unsure of what to do with her, I figured I would drive her to my house. As I reached the door to the backseat, I hoped I could follow through with what I'd promised her—to help. I’d been wanting a project, but I hadn’t considered something like this. Like her.