Chapter 4
Donatello
A rebel.
As a kid, various Italians had called me un ribelle pericoloso.
A dangerous rebel. Even as a young man I’d enjoyed acts of violence, savoring learning methods of brutality that most people would shy away from.
Including those who’d witnessed horrific loss of life in wars and drug-related battle zones.
I’d reveled in the act themselves, learning the art and craft of how to kill people. There was no soft selling the man I’d mostly taught myself to be.
While I’d never injured an animal or a woman on purpose, there wasn’t a man alive who couldn’t land himself on my radar.
The truth was that carving my initials in a man’s skin or hearing him beg for mercy were the only things that could soothe the angry beast dwelling inside of me.
That’s why the world of crime syndicates was a perfect fit to fulfill my needs. In befriending Jaxon Prince, another rebel spirit, I’d found a sense of belonging that had never occurred in my own family. That in and of itself was a tragedy.
One that I rarely if ever talked about.
Baptiste, the patriarch of the Prince family had taken a liking to me, training me, mentoring me. Treating me like his son when he already had four that he adored. There’d been no jealousy, no sibling rivalry.
So my awkward, rebellious skills had been honed through years of training. I’d even convinced my brother to become a part of the regime, only his personality wasn’t as regimented as mine.
Everything had changed the day he’d overdosed.
Now I took every order seriously, my loyalty to the family without question. If anyone fucked with a single member of the Prince family, I would act without hesitation or remorse.
That had added to my dark and predatory reputation. Some people in New Orleans thought of me as a playboy with a dark demonic center. Others just saw the devil himself.
Either way, I wasn’t the kind of man to be fucked with.
I also had no illusions of grandeur that I’d settle down with the right woman and make babies. That wasn’t in the cards for me and that was fine. I preferred living alone, doing what I wanted in the timeframe of my choosing.
That didn’t mean I didn’t have needs, which I found ways of fulfilling when I had the time.
I still preferred violence to romance. Unfortunately, with the shift in the Prince organization after the murder of my mentor, violence had become much more controlled.
Granted, what was the American expression?
Ah, yes. It wasn’t good to shit where you ate.
Meaning that creating bloodbaths in a city I’d come to adore wasn’t in anyone’s best interests. Yet of course, there’d been issues since Alexander Prince had taken the helm as Don.
The family had enemies stretching back several generations. Alexander and the other brothers were also highly respected and very intelligent businessmen, including forming an alliance with the Five Families of Italy.
With the downfall of the Barishnikoff Bratva in the New Orleans area, and a hard push made on getting the Russians out of Italy because of work we’d accomplished, life had fallen into the most peaceful period since I’d worked for the family.
That didn’t soothe the beast, but I had to go with the flow.
Besides, given I’d been allowed to invest in the family’s stocks and to hold an active partial ownership as well, I was a very rich man. Who wanted for nothing.
Except excitement.
And a taste of something else.
The forbidden.
How many fantasies had I experienced with the stunning Emmeline Prince as the starring ingénue?
How many mornings had I awakened with a full hard-on, forced to masturbate before my morning coffee?
How many times at parties where she’d attended had I curtailed my alcohol consumption so I wouldn’t lose control around or with her?
More than I could count.
I pulled down the driveway then through the gates, waving at one of two guards. There’d been enough attempts on Alexander’s life that he took the safety of his growing family seriously. Not that I could blame him.
When I was close to the house, I noticed Emmeline’s vehicle parked alongside those of her other brothers and a few additional vehicles of various Capos.
The passion purple Corvette was a car that suited her personality perfectly.
Since I was Jaxon’s right-hand man, I’d been called to the unexpected meeting.
I was more than curious what the lovely lady with the legs of a dancer, a body meant for sin, and a smile that could light up every bar in New Orleans was doing storming into Alexander’s house.
If I had to guess, I’d say she was making good on her promise of telling her brothers off, something she’d had no qualms about doing under any circumstances.
Why was it that my cock was twitching? Why was it that I couldn’t keep my thoughts out of the dirty end of a cesspool? She was my nemesis, what Americans called my Kryptonite. I could only imagine what Superman had gone through. There was no way the dude had remained a good boy the entire time.
I had to be a damn saint given the way she’d tormented me for years.
The funny thing about Emmeline was that she wasn’t frilly nor was she the kind of woman anyone should ever consider a damsel in distress. I’d seen her shoot a tin can from four hundred yards away.
The woman was dangerous in her own right, including with men who dared annoy her.
Like the dude from the night before. Granted, I hadn’t appreciated the way he’d acted or the way he’d paid close attention to everything Emmeline had been doing. I had every intention of finding his full identity. When I had the time. Would she have handled the asshole if I hadn’t intervened?
You bet. However, my job was to protect her and that’s what I’d done.
Whether she’d wanted me to or not.
Groaning, I parked my car, checking my watch as soon as I threw the gear into park. Today could prove interesting.
Some might say I had no morals, but I did have a moral code. Anyone in my position should be required to. It was the Prince family’s code and to date, no one had dared try to go against the house rules.
I had no intention of being the first because I enjoyed breathing too much.
However, that didn’t mean a red-blooded Italian boy couldn’t dream.
Once upon a time, I’d believed I’d marry the girl. After all, she was the only one who sparked every part of me. Thank God, those days had passed.
Laughing, I slammed the car door and jogged toward the door to Alexander’s house. With two kids in the house, normally he insisted on handling business of almost any kind outside of his home. Whatever the issue was must have come up unexpectedly.
Never a good thing.
The housekeeper opened the door, something Catherine, Alexander’s wife had relented to only recently.
She preferred being the only woman of the house.
A tough lady, as soon as I walked in, she placed her finger across her lips as she walked by with baby number two in her arms. From what I understood, Carrington had yet to sleep through the night.
I knew nothing about babies and never wanted to.
With a chuckle, I headed to the newly renovated office at the back of the house. Before I reached the door, I heard Emmeline’s voice. She wasn’t a happy girl.
Curtailing the grin, I walked inside.
While I was quiet entering the room, all eyes swung toward me when I walked in.
Including Emmeline’s.
I wasn’t certain how to describe her expression other than she was still irritated from the interruption of the night before. But there was more to the look, her eyes holding a mystery.
Or perhaps a secret.
Maybe something as simple as the fact that while I’d held her in my arms, I’d felt something stir within us both. There’d always been electricity between us, sparks augmented from our banter, and sometimes anger. But there’d been a slight difference.
Now she didn’t blink, but was using the excuse of me walking into the room to take a break. That was short lived, but long enough for the other men in the room to take a deep breath.
I’d heard a few others call her a ballbuster. After making the mistake of doing so in front of me, two had learned the hard way insulting the lady would result in serious pain.
One to the tune of having his jaw wired shut for several weeks.
After taking a deep breath, Emmeline launched into the powerhouse Don again.
She wasn’t yelling. She reserved doing so for when she was livid, so much so all weapons should be removed from her proximity.
She was simply stating in no uncertain terms she was fed up with being the object of such an oppressive state.
While Alexander was taking the brunt, remaining in his office chair, holding court and waiting for the official start of the meeting, Sinclair, Montgomery, and Jaxon were leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, Jaxon staring out one of the massive picture windows at the pool.
He nodded to me, his eyebrows arching as I moved closer to where he was standing.
The other three Capos were keeping their distance, poised near the door. Not for protection but in case they needed to make a clean getaway.
The entire situation was comical.
“I’m not going to be followed around twenty-four/seven any longer. I also don’t need anyone to spend the night outside my residence any longer.”
I narrowed my eyes, glancing at Jaxon for clarification. When had that practice started? Was there some external threat I hadn’t been told about? My entire body bristled from the thought.
“Furthermore, I am going to enjoy my time out on the town with my friends. Very much alone. I don’t need… thugs…” she hissed, pointing directly at me without turning her head.
Like the little witch she was and I said that with total admiration. I’d never believed spells could work, either used for good or evil. Hell, until I’d moved to New Orleans, I’d never believed in ghosts.
But there was definitely one living in my house in the Garden District.