Malavita (29 page)

She couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Are you
truly
certain about this marriage? That it’s what you want?”

His brow furrowed. “Of course. You’re not still worrying about the tattoo, are you?”

“I just feel…” She hesitated. “You’ve given up so much to be with me.”

He said nothing for a long moment. Was she imagining it, or were his eyes welling up with tears? But when he spoke, his voice was even, steady. Controlled. Maybe too controlled. “I may have given some things up, but I’ve gained so much.” He kissed her palm again and drew her down against his chest. “Now please stop fretting, or you’ll ruin our honeymoon.”

She lay sprawled across him for a long time, until a bulge at her belly alerted her to the fact that he wanted her again. She palmed him, and he grinned at her. “You’re insatiable,” she said.

“You make me that way.”

A lightness filled her chest. She shrugged out of the robe and kissed him. If that was the case, if he could set aside everything he’d lost, she’d make sure he never regretted his choice.

After an enjoyable shower together, Enrico tucked Toni into bed. She was almost asleep on her feet, but he felt energized after his nap. He prowled around the suite in a robe, went into the living room and flicked the TV on, then almost as quickly flicked it off.

Pacing back to their bedroom, he peeked in on her. The lamp on his side of the bed was still on, casting a dim glow over Toni. She looked so beautiful, with her black hair spilling across the pillow, her dark lashes fanning over her cheeks, her lush mouth looking swollen from his kisses.

Damn him, he wanted her all over again. But she needed her sleep, and he was content to watch over her. He sat down in the chair in the corner and leaned back, stretching out his legs. She’d tidied up while he’d been asleep. His eyes roved over the clothes she’d carefully folded and stacked on the dresser, and with a start, he noticed his jacket on top of them.
Cristo
, what if she’d looked in the pocket?

He jumped up and grabbed his coat. No doubt she’d realized there was a gun in there, but had she dug any further? His eyes glued to her sleeping figure, he rooted around the pocket and found the photo with his fingers. Still where he’d left it.

He let out a breath he’d been holding and withdrew the picture. He should have left it at home, he should have hidden it, but he’d wanted Nico with him on this day. He hadn’t wanted to forget about his son.

But when he’d told Toni that they needed to let go of the past, he’d meant it. He’d realized as they’d spoken that it was the only way he could ever find any sort of happiness.

He took the photo out to the living room and found the crystal ashtray sitting on the coffee table, a box of hotel matches sitting beside it. He took one last look at his son, then pressed his lips to the paper. “I love you, Nico,” he whispered. Then he set the photo in the ashtray and struck a match.

He loved his son; he always would. And he’d do his best to see him whenever possible. But Toni must never know; Carlo must never know. Nico was too precious to risk.

He dropped the match on top of the picture, his vision blurring with tears as it curled up and blackened in the flame, slowly reducing to ash. A tear traveled down his cheek and he wiped it away, sniffing back the rest.

He started when Toni’s hand clasped his shoulder. How much had she seen? He looked up at her, his heart beating fast, and saw a pain there that mirrored his own. “Was that…” She paused and cleared her throat. “Was that your family?”

He nodded, his throat so tight he couldn’t speak. It was true—Nico was his blood. Even if Toni meant his mother and brothers, it wasn’t a lie to let her think he grieved for his family.

“
Mi dispiace
,” she whispered and pulled him close.

He held her tightly for a moment, then swallowed down his tears. “You’re my family now,” he whispered.

“And you’re mine.” She kissed him softly. “And someday we’ll have children too.” She ran a finger across his lips, her own trembling. “I know we can’t replace everything you’ve lost, but we can try to make something new.”

The pain in his chest eased. “Thank you for understanding.”

She said nothing for a moment. Then she smiled. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

“Me too.”

She placed a finger against his lips and shook her head. “This is one time where I get the last word.”

He grinned. “I don’t think so.”

“I
do
think so.” She arched a brow. “Am I going to have to put you over my knee?”

He shook his head and pulled her down onto his lap. “Let’s play a game.”

“But all I’m wearing is this robe.”

His grin widened. “Then we both win.”

Carlo Andretti took his scotch and his cigar outside and sat on the rear terrace of his home, looking out at the moonlit lake. He pulled his coat a little closer and gazed up at the stars, the same stars that shone down on Venice, where his daughter was. Lucchesi had better be treating her right. No one would make Toni unhappy and live. He’d made that promise to her the day she was born, and that was one promise he’d always keep.

Taking a sip of the scotch, he let its mellow fire soothe the ache in his throat. He’d hurt his little girl today.

He missed Toni already. The house seemed empty without her. Romola and Dario were there of course, but he had little to say to them, and they even less to say in return.

After a long drag on the cigar, he watched the smoke he exhaled dissipate into the cool night air. The day had been difficult, more difficult than he’d anticipated. He’d let loose his rage at the Lucchesis, he’d tried to show Rinaldo and Enrico that they hadn’t beaten him. But he hadn’t won.

And he’d nearly lost his daughter’s love in the process.

What he’d said to her was true: from the minute she’d been born, she’d had his heart locked in her tiny baby fist.

People said he was cold. People said he was a murderer. But no one had realized he could love too. Not even him. He’d thought his father had stripped that emotion from him, but Toni had brought it back.

He’d do anything for his Toni. Even sacrifice his pride.

Besides, he needed to rebuild his war chest. She had been right; he’d let his arrogance get in the way of his decision-making, let his pride dictate his actions. Now was the time to wait. Rinaldo was weak, Enrico was young, and soon Andretti blood would flow through the Lucchesi
cosca
. He’d convince Toni to tell him the Lucchesis’ secrets, and in time the north would be his.

The
faida
wasn’t over. Not truly. Not while the Lucchesis drew breath. It had merely been tamped down, its coals still glowing beneath a thin layer of ash.

THE END

Thank you for reading
Malavita
. I hope I have entertained you.

Writing a book is a rather crazy endeavor, similar to trying to put together a thousand-piece puzzle with no picture to guide you. When I started this series, it was going to be only one book. Then two. Then four. Now it’s grown to five. (I’m pretty sure it’s set at five, but who knows what these characters will demand of me next!) I hope you’re having as much fun as I am on this journey.

If you enjoyed
Malavita
, please consider writing a review to help others learn about the book. I’m a new author, so every recommendation truly helps, and I appreciate anyone who takes the time to share their love of books and reading with others. (And feel free to
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To hear about my new releases, you can sign up for my mailing list at
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Malavita
is the prequel to the “Blood and Honor” series. You can learn about the other books in the series by going to the MORE BY THIS AUTHOR section on the next page.

Thank you for your support!

Malavita
is the prequel to the “Blood and Honor” five-part romantic suspense series, which is set in Italy among the underworld of the Calabrian Mafia.

Each story features a hero and heroine forced to make difficult choices in a world where vendettas are quick to erupt and burn for generations; where family ties, both blood and criminal, drive every decision; and where passions flare up and threaten to blaze out of control.

The “Blood and Honor” series

Prequel:
Malavita

A son determined to avenge his family.

A daughter desperate for peace.

Two fathers intent on destruction…

Enrico Lucchesi never wanted anything to do with the Mafia. But when his brothers were murdered, he accepted that he would someday be the next don. However, he doesn't accept that he must marry the daughter of the man who killed them. Enrico will never trust an Andretti, never mind love one. The Andrettis are up to something with their so-called “truce”—and Enrico must avenge his siblings. But will his dark secret spell the end of his vengeance—and possibly the Lucchesis?

After Antonella Andretti’s father tries to destroy the Lucchesis, she persuades him that an alliance—achieved by her marriage to Enrico, the “golden boy” she’s loved from afar—would be in everyone’s best interests. As her wedding day approaches, people close to her father start dying, and her fiancé's behavior is suspect. When she learns Enrico’s true feelings about her—and what her father’s actual plans are—will Antonella damn their families to eternal war, or will she broker a peace that might destroy her heart?

Book 1:
Revenge

A woman on the run.

A damaged Mafia don.

A rival bent on revenge...

Kate Andretti is married to the Mob—but doesn’t know it. When her husband uproots them to Italy, Kate leaves everything she knows behind. Alone in a foreign land, she finds herself locked in a battle for her life against a husband and a family that will “silence” her if she will not do as they wish. When her husband tries to kill her, she accepts the protection offered by a wealthy businessman with Mafia ties. He’s not a mobster, he claims. Or is he?

Enrico Lucchesi never wanted to be a Mafia don, and now he’s caught in the middle of a blood feud with the Andretti family. His decision to help Kate brings the feud between the families to a boil. Attacks from without and within push them both to the breaking point, and soon Enrico is forced to choose between protecting the only world he knows and saving the woman he loves.

Book 2:
Retribution