Captive Hearts (Mafia Queens #2)

Chapter 1

1

CELIA

I looked back over my shoulder at the motel as Gabriel opened the passenger side door for me. He looked like a gentleman, which was strange since I felt just as kidnapped as I had when Luca took me.

What did Gabriel want from me? How did I figure out how to make him happy—or at least, how to make him let down his guard—when he was so cold and difficult to read?

“Celia,” he prompted me, still holding the door open. He stood there like a gentleman, but he was clearly a gentleman whose patience was waning.

“Sorry,” I said with a smile. “I just wanted to make sure Luca was okay…”

“He’ll be as okay as I want him to be,” he promised me. “Get in the car.”

Reluctantly, I slid into the slick leather of the passenger seat.

Someone leaned forward behind me. I turned, anxiety rising in my chest, to find Dante.

He grinned at me, even though his face was bruised, his hands cuffed.

“Dante!” I exclaimed.

I glanced at Gabriel, unable to read what was happening right now. He started the car, giving nothing away.

Dante’s gaze shifted toward the window. Both of us watched as Luca was loaded into the back of another car. He was on a medic’s stretcher board, and an EMT climbed into the trunk of the SUV with him.

If Gabriel intended to kill these men anytime soon, he was certainly adding extra steps. I tried to find some comfort in that thought.

Dante’s gaze met mine, and he winked as if everything was going to be okay.

“Why is Dante here?” I asked Gabriel.

“Would you rather I handed him over to your father and brother?”

I shook my head as I turned my gaze back out the window. Admitting that I cared for Dante at all felt dangerous. I didn’t understand Gabriel or his games yet.

I couldn’t stop wracking my brain about why he would have Dante here. Did he want to make sure I understood the consequences for any rebellion would be to see him hurt…or maybe even kill…Dante or Luca in front of me?

“Why did you try to save Luca?” Gabriel’s voice startled me out of my thoughts.

For a few long seconds, I debated my response. I’d reacted to the threat to Luca more quickly than thought. It had been my body itself, my soul, that had thrown me into Gabriel’s path.

“I knew you were more likely to hurt him than me. I have some value to you, after all.” For now . My voice was bitter.

“I find it hard to believe you conducted that kind of analysis in the moment,” he said drily.

“I find it hard to believe you expect me to bare my feelings to you when I’m practically in a cage.”

“A cage? Funny. That’s exactly why I expect you to bare yourself to me,” he said mildly. “You should try to please me, Celia.”

“Why did you stop Royal from hitting me?” If he was going to ask me those kinds of questions, it seemed only fair I could ask some too.

He gave me a cutting look, as if that were a stupid question. “You’re going to be my wife.”

I licked my lips. “And what does that mean to you?”

His lips twisted in a smile I couldn’t read. The answer he offered didn’t answer my question. “Your father offered me the entire gunrunning side of his business as a dowry for you.”

“A dowry?” Weren’t dowries supposed to offer women a safety net? There were no safety nets for women in my world. “Why would my father pay you to take me?”

“He thinks our marriage will guarantee my loyalty to him, and that I will help him to fight his war with the Dempsey family.”

“Is that why Royal was trying to stop us getting married?” I asked softly

“No, that’s because he’s a scumbag. He doesn’t want anything good for you, and he thinks being married to me isn’t punishment enough.”

There was a line to mull over later. How could Gabriel possibly be good for me ?

I started to ask another question when he accelerated, the force pushing me back in my seat.

I glanced over at his sure hands on the steering wheel, somewhat enviously. I had learned how to drive, of course. But I drove so little that I always felt anxious about it.

When I tried to ask my question again, he raised his hand off the stick shift and gestured for me to stop. “I don’t like to talk.”

I expected there to be a second half to that sentence. Like, I don’t like to talk in the car or I don’t like to talk when I need to make plans .

But that was it. That was his entire sentence.

I nodded and stayed silent, although my hands knit together in my lap, and I couldn’t stop restlessly fidgeting. I tried to be relieved that Dante was behind me, and Luca was in the next car.

We arrived at the iron gates of an enormous mansion.

“Your new home,” Gabriel said shortly.

I studied the house as the car pulled through the gates. They shut behind us with finality, and I twisted in my seat to watch them close as the car moved under the sweeping trees that arched over the long drive. Dante leaned forward, resting his cuffed hands on the back of my seat. I rested my cheek against his big, scarred hands, drawing comfort from his proximity.

Gabriel’s gaze cut to us, his jaw tense as he turned the car off.

My eyes met Dante’s; we were so close together. He brushed his fingertip over my cheek, spelling out a few letters I couldn’t quite make out. I bit my lip, wanting so desperately to know what he had to say.

When Gabriel came around and opened my door, he extended an arm toward the steps that led up to the front door.

But I stopped, watching as Dante was pulled out of the car. Gabriel paused impatiently, and I knew I should follow him, but I couldn’t pull myself away.

The SUV that Luca was riding in rolled to a stop behind us. I could barely breathe, waiting to see him.

“Celia,” Gabriel said tightly. His hand settled against the small of my back as he urged me forward. Electricity seemed to skitter down my spine at his touch—though whether it was fear or something else, I was too tense to understand.

I caught the glimpse of some of his men staring at us. Clearly it was important to Gabriel that our marriage was respected. So, I raised my chin and let him steer me toward the house.

We climbed pristine white marble stairs up to a sweeping porch of the enormous house. But I glanced back over my shoulder as we reached the top of the stairs.

Luca was being transported on a stretcher. His face was pale, but he raised his head when he saw me. A faint smile came to his lips when his gaze met mine. He started to mouth something, but before I could understand what it was, I caught a glimpse of Gabriel from the corner of my eye.

Gabriel had already crossed the threshold, but he was returning to my side. I was startled to find myself suddenly being lifted into the air.

My arms closed around Gabriel’s neck to steady myself. His powerful arms were around me, his hard chest against my side.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Carrying you across the threshold of your new home. It is a tradition, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think we’re a very traditional couple, Gabriel.”

He scoffed. The marble foyer around us was grand, with a piano and twin staircases twisting up to the second floor. But I could barely register anything but his face so close to mine, with his five o’clock shadow across the hard angle of his jaw and those deep blue eyes in contrast to his slashing eyebrows and thick, dark hair.

“I can’t think of anything more traditional than being married for the reasons we are.” He seemed comfortable holding my weight, as if I weighed nothing to him. My gaze caught on his lips, which were soft and lush no matter how coldly he spoke.

When I looked up, he was focused on me intently. Heat seemed to flow between us. For a split second, I could’ve sworn Gabriel was about to kiss me.

“And what are those reasons, Gabriel? What’s your plan for me?”

He let out a soft huff that felt like a laugh as he set me down. His hands lingered on my body, as if he were making sure I was steady on my feet. The heat of his touch seemed to stay on my skin as I took a step back, putting distance between us that did nothing to calm my heart beating wildly.

“When is our wedding?” I asked.

“The day after tomorrow. The seamstress will come to get your dress fitted.”

My brows arched. “I don’t get to choose my own wedding dress?”

“Are we supposed to pretend this is the wedding of your dreams?” He raised his brows in return. “Though, your brother did imply as much.”

I shook my head. I might’ve had a crush on Gabriel once, but I didn’t want him now.

“I’ll have them bring in several dresses.” To one of his men who had followed us in, he said, “Make it happen. Get her whatever she wants. Jewelry, makeup. Anything she asks.”

“Thank you,” I said.

He gave me a quick nod. “Shall we?”

It was a command, not really a question, even if he put a question mark at the end of it. I had a feeling that everything he said sounded like that unless he deliberately tried to soften his tone.

“I don’t even know where we’re going, Gabriel. But I guess we shall .”

“I’m going to take you on a tour of the house.”

What? I’d assumed I would be under lock and key, but I didn’t respond because I was afraid that if I gave any indication of my assumptions, he’d respond, hmm , that seems like an excellent idea , let me find something to handcuff you to .

So, I just followed him as he led me further into the house.

There was a noise behind us, and I turned. There was a crowd at the door and the stretcher. They were bringing Luca in, but Gabriel caught my wrist and pulled me with him. His grip wasn’t hard, but it was unyielding. I looked back over my shoulder, trying to track where Dante and Luce were being taken.

He didn’t let go of me as he showed me through a blur of rooms and hallways. The entire house was gorgeous, filled with artwork, lush greenery, and leather-bound books, and I wondered if he had selected any of it himself. I was too rattled by his presence—and his touch—to commit the layout to memory as well as I tried.

“Did you grow up here?” I asked, trying to connect the version of Gabriel I’d known in the past—mysterious, aloof, but charming—with this version of Gabriel. This version who still gripped my wrist.

“I did not. My parents’ home burned down. But I would have wanted to build something for myself regardless.”

On the back side of the house, a door opened, then closed.

Gabriel’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Then I heard the sound of paws—and the skitter of claws—across the marble floors.

My puppy from the dog fighting ring burst into the room, as if she had scented Gabriel. He bent and picked her up, and she wriggled in his arms as if she were desperate to lick his face. I would’ve expected Gabriel to react poorly, but he just grunted when her tongue licked across his neck. Then she sneezed and gave him a dramatic, offended look. Gabriel’s aftershave smelled delicious to me, but she clearly didn’t feel the same way.

“Your dog,” he told me dryly.

“It looks like she’s your dog.”

He clearly was not going to dignify that thought with any acknowledgement. “You need to give her a name.”

That seemed too domestic when I didn’t know if his plans for me involved a grave. Luca and Dante seemed to be fine for now, but I didn’t know how long they’d stay that way. The thought kept me from answering.

She finally seemed to notice me, her head twisting around excitedly as she tried to get to me.

Gabriel handed her over. She sniffed my face, then licked me approvingly. Some of the fear in my chest loosened.

It was hard to stay terrified of Gabriel as he crinkled his nose slightly and brushed traces of dog fur from his previously immaculate suit.

A salt-and-pepper-haired woman hustled from the back. She sighed when she saw us with the dog. “I swear she has a sixth sense for your arrival, Mr. Caruso.”

The puppy tried to heave herself out of my arms, so I set her down on the floor. She raced between the three of us, as if she couldn’t settle on her favorite human.

“She doesn’t seem to have many brain cells to spare on a sixth sense,” Gabriel said. “Celia, this is my house manager, Patricia.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said with her mouth, though her eyes said she was reserving judgment. All her warmth seemed to be directed toward the dog, who she stooped to pet with another sigh.

Maybe it was exhausting to work for a man who dragged unwilling brides home with him.

“Please make sure Mrs. Caruso has anything she would like,” Gabriel said.

“Anything?” I didn’t believe him, and I was curious what the limits were. I wouldn’t risk Dante and Luca’s safety by trying to leave the gates, but I still asked, “Can I have a motorcycle?”

Gabriel’s brows arched skeptically. “Can you drive a motorcycle without killing yourself?”

“If I could, would it be on the table?”

“Place a hold on the motorcycle until Celia demonstrates her competence. I do need her alive.” Gabriel’s tone with Patricia was so dry that I couldn’t quite read him.

“Yes, Mr. Caruso. Do you want me to take your hellhound for dinner and then bed?”

“Please.” Gabriel gestured me ahead, so I walked through a doorway into yet another grand hall. Patricia had to pick up the puppy to keep her from following Gabriel.

I didn’t have a perfect sense of the layout, but it was deliberate when I took a wrong turn, heading into the dining room instead of the foyer. I wanted Gabriel to underestimate me.

“Celia.” His voice was unreadable. I turned back just as he took a few long, quick strides toward me, bringing himself to my side. He touched the small of my back, turning me in the direction of another doorway.

And toward him. His broad chest loomed in front of me, and the scent of his aftershave—and maybe of him— dark and heady—washed over me.

“I get lost so easily,” I told him with a smile.

His icy blue eyes tracked over my face. “Is that so?”

I had the feeling he didn’t believe me.

The twisting staircases led to an expansive landing. All the paneled doors with their gold and crystal doorknobs were closed.

A doctor was coming out of one of the rooms, carrying a bag under his arm. I broke away from Gabriel to ask the doctor, “Is he okay?”

The doctor glanced at Gabriel for permission. Behind him, before the door closed again, I caught a glimpse of Luca in the bed and Dante sitting beside him.

Gabriel must have nodded, because the doctor said, “He’ll be fine. Whoever dug out the bullet and did his stitches did a serviceable job. Obviously amateur work, but it probably saved his life.”

Warmth rushed through my chest. I’d saved Luca’s life?

He was going to owe me forever. Not that I expected he’d remember such an inconvenient fact.

“Who was it?” Gabriel demanded, steering us toward another door as the doctor went down the stairs.

I looked at him in confusion. “Me.”

“Well, you are full of surprises.” Gabriel gave me a studying look that I didn’t really like.

I had the unfortunate feeling that Gabriel himself would turn out to be full of surprises.

“Come,” he said. “Let me show you to our bedroom.”

My brows arched. “ Our bedroom?”

“I dragged you out of a motel room with another man two days before our wedding, but I’m supposed to pretend as if you’re too chaste for us to share a bedroom?”

I licked my lips. “I thought you weren’t interested?—”

“I’m interested in keeping an eye on you,” he said. “You seem to have a habit of outsmarting those who don’t take you seriously.”

He put his hand on the wall, caging me in, and leaned down close. The heat of his body and the scent of his aftershave washed over me. “I promise to take you seriously.”

Somehow, I didn’t find that very comforting.

“Am I supposed to be afraid of you, Gabriel?” I asked, raising my chin as I met his gaze.

“It would probably be wise,” he said dryly.

“I heard that you were the one who killed David.”

Emotions crossed his face in a rapid-fire flicker, too quickly for me to read. “That does suggest that you should be terrified of me.”

“But I don’t believe it.” It was a wild accusation, far wilder than accusing him of murder. I didn’t even fully understand why I’d just blurted that out.

But I’d heard David’s voice in my dreams.

He felt real. Alive. That didn’t make any sense, but I trusted my intuition.

Gabriel’s jaw flexed. “Is that so? Or is it delusion?”

The muscles in his neck and shoulders were tense. His blue eyes were magnetic, lit with fire, and I lowered my gaze to the softness of his lips on that cruel, beautiful face. Gabriel’s presence was all-consuming. It was hard to focus on what I intended to say.

Still, I raised my gaze back to his. “You don’t have to force me to be your wife, Gabriel. I can be a good ally.”

He reached to touch my face, then paused, a look flitted across his face as if he wasn’t sure why he had just done that. “I think you’ll make me quite the wife.”

I bit my lip as I stared up at him, trying to make sense of how he meant those words.

But he straightened so he no longer loomed over me and walked ahead of me into the bedroom.

Our bedroom.