Ho Ho Mafioso (25 Days of Christmas: Bikers & Mobsters)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Gia

Don’t panic, don’ t panic, don’t panic, I told myself as I attempted to tap in my dad’s number on the screen of my phone. But even if my hands weren’t slick with blood, my vision was too blurred with tears to be able to see what I was doing.

The phone slipped from my grip, clattering to the floor. “Fuck!” I cursed as I wiped my hands on my blood-splattered wedding dress before using the back of my hand to wipe the tears from my eyes.

Then, I took a deep breath and picked up my phone. I may have been a spoiled brat, but my father didn’t raise me to be a bitch.

My hands still trembled slightly, but I was finally able to call my dad. He answered on the third ring, “Piccola, is everything okay? You shouldn’t be calling me during your wedding night.”

The term of endearment he had used since I was a little girl made my heart ache. “Daddy,” my voice cracked, a sob escaping me from the overwhelming multitude of emotions swarming through me. “Something happened.”

The line was silent for several seconds, making my anxiety tick higher and higher with each passing moment that he didn’t respond. “Daddy?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t touch anything and don’t talk to anyone else. You understand?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yes.”

“Good. I’ll be there in ten.”

A small trickle of relief flowed through me, and my shoulders dropped as I let out a sigh. “Okay.”

As promised, my dad arrived within ten minutes. He had two of his bodyguards with him as I opened the door to the penthouse suite he’d booked for my wedding night.

His eyes widened as they ran me up and down, and concern and anger etched his forehead. “What happened?” he questioned as he rushed inside. He signaled for his men to close the door.

I tried to be strong, but I couldn’t help but cry as the events of the night replayed in my mind.

I’d been holding all the emotion in as I tried to process everything, but now that my father was in front of me, vulnerability took over and I broke down.

“He … I … I wasn’t ready, and Luca … he tried to force himself on me,” I stammered, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“I know he was my husband, but I barely knew him and I wasn’t ready yet. ”

My words were rushed, my tone flustered as I explained what happened, my eyes locked on my father’s, silently pleading for him to understand. “I just wanted him to get off me and my knife was in my garter, and-”

Arching a brow, my dad cut me off, “Your knife was in your garter? On your wedding day?”

I nodded. Given my father’s status as one of the head mob bosses in New York, we had to take certain precautions. After several attempted kidnappings and threats on my life, I kept one of his knives with me at all times.

Even on my wedding day.

A small smirk quirked the corner of his lips for a second before his face became an unreadable mask again. “Did he hurt you?”

The scene replayed in my mind and I squeezed my eyes shut. My tongue ran over the split at the corner of my lip as I reopened my eyes. “Nothing severe.”

My dad nodded. “Is he dead?”

A lump formed in my throat. I didn’t even want to consider that. “I don’t know. Once I got him off me, I ran into the other room and called you.”

He snapped his fingers, and one of his men began searching the suite. My brows furrowed. “I can show you where he is.”

My father shook his head, waving me away. “No. Don’t you worry about him.” He opened his arms and stepped towards me, inviting me into his embrace.

I easily fell into my dad’s arms and let everything out, sobbing into his chest. Holding me tight, he whispered words of comfort as he rubbed my back. His familiar cologne helped calm me down, my choking sobs becoming small sniffles after a few minutes.

After the shock wore off, the severity of what I’d done sunk in. “Oh my God, Dad, I’m so sorry.” Panic began to rise again, making my chest tight. “I’ve ruined everything. The Sorellos are going to retaliate and—”

My father shushed me, placing his finger to my lips. “Don’t worry about that, Piccola, I’ll take care of it.” He kissed my forehead, then led me toward the bathroom. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and we’ll talk more after?”

I looked down at my ripped and bloodied wedding dress. I couldn’t even imagine what my face and hair looked like, but I could feel the dried blood caking my neck and cheeks. “Okay.”

My father smiled, kissing my forehead again. “Okay.”

I went into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. The bathroom was almost the size of the master suite and had a huge soaking tub that I had been looking forward to using when I first saw it.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stiffened. My eyeliner was smeared and my eyes were puffy and red, making me look like a rabid raccoon. Mascara streaked down my cheeks and pieces of my hair were sticking out from the beautiful updo I’d had done that morning.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was the blood splattering my neck, cheeks and chest. And the twenty-five thousand dollar couture dress that had been custom made for me was splattered with blood, as well.

My bottom lip quivered as I fought back tears, trying to forget the events of the last hour that would most likely be etched in my memory forever. I slammed my eyes shut and turned around, then began trying to tear the gown from my body as a scream ripped from my throat.

Banging sounded on the door moments later, my dad’s voice frantic as he asked, “Gia, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

I almost laughed. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be okay again. “I’m fine. Can you help me get out of this dress?”

Two people had to help me get into the dress so I definitely wouldn’t be able to get out of it by myself.

“I’ll get Julia,” my dad answered.

Julia? My brow furrowed. Julia was my personal attendant, and was usually with me at all times, but tonight was different since it was my wedding night.

“Julia?” I questioned. “I thought she was off for this weekend.”

“She was, but now she’s not. I had her reservation extended until tomorrow in case you needed her tonight or in the morning before you went on your honeymoon.”

“Oh,” I replied. Everyone that was part of the wedding had a room at the hotel the night prior because my father wanted to make sure that no one would be late.

A few minutes later, a light knock sounded on the door. “Miss Gia?”

I opened the door to let in the older woman who had taken care of me since I’d been born. Her eyes widened as she took me in and sadness blanketed her face. “Oh, sweetheart.”

I almost lost it again. The woman was like a second mom to me. “I’m okay. Can you help me out of this dress?”

She nodded. “Of course. Let me start a bath for you first.”

There was an assortment of bath oils and salts on a gold tray sitting on the edge of the tub. Julia turned on the water, then started pouring the various bottles into the tub. The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the air as the water began to rise.

Julia turned her attention to me and smiled. “Let’s get you out of this mess.”

Turning around, I held up the bodice of the dress while she unzipped the back. She, along with my mom and bridesmaids, had helped get me into the dress that morning, and it was so surreal to have her helping me take it off that night.

My husband should have been doing that.

I let go of the bodice as she pushed the bulky fabric down until it was around my calves, then I stepped out.

Julia bundled as much of the dress as she could in her arms, then moved toward the door. “I’ll take care of this for you, darling. Enjoy your bath.”

“Thank you.” I was so lucky to have the support I did, especially in a situation like the one I had gotten myself into.

Julia left, and I waited until the tub filled before turning it off. Then, I decided to take a shower before getting in because I didn’t want to be soaking in blood.

Once I was sure that I had scrubbed the blood from my skin and the water circling the pristine white marble tile was no longer tinged pink, I got out of the shower and stepped into the tub. The warm water felt amazing as I sunk down until everything but my head was under the water.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, I was noticing pain from the struggle that had happened before I’d stabbed Luca.

My cheek throbbed, and my wrists were sore from being jostled around.

My scalp hurt too from when he’d grabbed me by my hair.

Some bruises in the shape of fingers dotted my thighs and anger filled me.

How dare he?

I was a Genovese, and my father was one of the most powerful men in New York. You would think Luca would think twice about trying to rape the man’s only daughter, but I guess his entitlement outweighed his common sense.

I knew what was expected of me that night. I was a married woman, and I should have consummated my marriage on my wedding night.

But I barely knew my husband and our marriage wasn’t based on love, it was based on elevating our status.

I just wasn’t ready to give my virginity to a stranger who hardly looked up from his phone whenever we were together.

I wanted to wait until we got to know each other better, hoping that there would be some spark or chemistry further down the road.

Was it wrong of me to want passion and love from my husband?

Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes and sighed. In the moment, I didn’t think about the enormous problem my actions were going to cause my family.

My eyes snapped open. Oh my God, what if I actually killed him?

Panic filled me and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

My intention had been to stop him from raping me but I hadn’t actually considered that I might have killed him.

I knew my dad would have everything taken care of, but Luca wasn’t some nobody.

His father was also a very powerful man, and if I had killed his son, a war between our families was all but inevitable.