Mobster's Baby: Bad Boy Mafia Romance (11 page)

BOOK: Mobster's Baby: Bad Boy Mafia Romance
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Chapter Seventeen

Portia

 

I couldn’t believe Axel was being so nice to me. First, he offered to replace all my clothes. Then, he told me he was going to buy me all new toiletries. I definitely needed them, but he could have asked me to buy that shit myself. I was surprised to see a different side of him, a side that was willing to take responsibility for me and our unborn child. Maybe I’d been wrong about Axel, maybe he wasn’t as bad as I thought.

 

“Come on,” Axel urged. “I haven’t got all day. We gotta get the fuck out of here.”

 

I rolled my eyes as Axel hustled me towards the front door. Almost all of my stuff had been ruined—even my prescription medication that I sometimes took for sleep. I didn’t even know if I could take it now that I was pregnant, so I left it behind. The only things I took with me were a couple pairs of shoes, one pair of jeans that had been miraculously untouched, and a scarf. I shuddered when I thought of everything that had been ruined. I’d been hanging onto some of those clothes for years, since high school, even. It was depressing knowing that I’d never be able to wear them again, that I’d have to go out and get a whole new wardrobe. I wasn’t so much upset about the clothes, but the idea that someone could just come in and destroy my life so quickly was really upsetting to me. Soon, when I moved out, my neighbors would forget me. It was like Portia Campanella would have never existed.

 

I shivered. I was thinking too much and getting weirded out. I always did that during times of stress. When I first thought my singing career was going to take off, I’d skipped lots of shifts at Maison Bridges for the chance to drive into the city and sing that night. If I never made it to the top of the list, I’d come home empty-handed. Then I’d be so tired that I collapsed into bed, sometimes even still clad in my evening dress. But after a few hours, the narrative in my head would stay the same.
Portia, you don’t have any money. Portia, they’re going to arrest you and drag you off to debtor’s prison. Portia, you haven’t paid your credit cards and collectors are going to be calling you.

 

It was all the same. Time after time. I’d struggled like this for years without recognition. The most anyone could say about me was that I was a decent waitress, and I doubted Rocky and Tania would even say that. Maybe I deserved this, maybe I deserved everything that was happening to me.

 

Oddly enough, I wasn’t depressed about my apartment being trashed. It almost felt freeing, knowing that I wouldn’t have to clean anything or take care of anything that had been ruined. By the time we got to the car, I was almost smiling. Sure, it was scary, but life was scary, and at least Axel was trying to take care of me.

 

“What are you grinning about?” Axel narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t you think today’s been fucking weird enough?” He laughed drily. “Or is this some pregnancy hormone shit? You know, I don’t understand you women. Not at all.”

 

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t understand,” I said flatly. “Just…it’s kind of a weird, freeing feeling, you know? I worked my whole life to get everything that I have and now that it’s gone, I realize I didn’t actually care that much about my stuff.”

 

Axel snorted. “You women are fucking weird,” he said as he pulled open the passenger door of his Porsche for me to crawl inside. “If that had been me, I’d be freaking the fuck out right now.”

 

“But it wasn’t you,” I snipped. “And I’d think you would have been glad that I didn’t start crying again.”

Axel gave me a long look before getting inside the car and turning the key in the ignition. “I have enough shit on my plate to deal with,” he said. “And if I leave the house, I’m posting a guard with you. If someone’s out to get you, they wouldn’t stop at breaking into your apartment.”

 

I gasped. “You can’t be serious!”

 

Axel looked at me with a solemn look on his handsome, rugged face. “Try me,” he snapped. “I’m fucking dead serious, honey.”

 

I glared at him. “Sorry, I guess I’m just not used to things being this horrible,” I said, sticking my tongue out. “Most of the time, I don’t have to worry about anyone trying to kill me!”

 

Axel laughed; a deep, throaty sound. “Get used to it,” he muttered. “Especially if you keep hanging around me.”

 

I pouted and leaned back against the seat. Axel still hadn’t told me whatever it was that he did for a living, and now I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to know. None of this was making sense. Axel was clearly wealthy, and he obviously had something that made other people want to attack him. He had an incredible mansion, a luxury car, and, ostensibly, lots of free time. But this was New Jersey, for fuck’s sake! We didn’t have dangerous things around! It wasn’t like we had biker gangs, or lots of weird criminal activity. At first, I hadn’t even wanted to admit to myself that Axel was involved in something that was likely illegal. But now…I gulped. Now, it was starting to seem like the only option.

“What do you do for work, anyway?” I looked over at Axel, screwing my face up and hoping desperately for a reply.

 

Axel laughed again. “Like I’d tell you. Trust me, it’s better that you don’t know.”

 

I folded my arms over my chest and slunk down low in the plush leather seat. I loved Axel’s car, I loved the sheer wealth it spoke of. The leathery seats felt like butter, and Axel even turned on the seat warmers for me when he noticed I was shivering.

 

“It’s nice, ain’t it?” Axel cracked a grin at me. For the first time in days, I felt the slow, languid spread of arousal through my lower belly. I held back a smile. Axel reached over and slid a hand down my body, making me gasp as he touched my sensitive breasts. Unlike the water that morning, his touch didn’t hurt and I cried out for more after he’d taken his hand away. Lust stirred in my lower belly and I reached over the seat, fondling Axel’s knee and sliding my hand up his leg. Axel groaned and arched his hips. I could already see a massive erection springing up inside of his jeans and I smiled to myself.
At least I haven’t lost that
, I thought suddenly.
At least I can still turn him on
.

 

Suddenly, Axel jumped. I yanked my hand away like I’d been scalded. “What the fuck!” Axel shouted. “That guy about fuckin’ tried to run me off the road!”

 

“What?” I twisted around in the seat and craned my neck. “Axel, what are you talking about? I don’t see anyone!”

 

Axel slammed on the brakes. The seatbelt cut a hard line into my neck and chest and I cried out in pain. “There’s a fucking car right behind us,” Axel hissed.

 

Finally, I saw a late-model sports car. It was so close that it was practically right on our tail. When Axel jerked to a stop, so did the other car. In a matter of seconds, someone leapt out and pulled out a gun.

 

“Don’t fuckin’ shoot!” Axel yelled. “There’s a fuckin’ pregnant woman in here, you asshole!”

 

I barely had time to look at the gunman before he held up the gun and fired through the window directly at Axel. I screamed loudly as the glass shattered. Axel ducked with his face pressed into his lap. Somehow, miraculously, there was no blood, and I realized that he hadn’t been shot. Glass shattered into the car and I screamed again as the gunman reached through the broken window and tried to grab Axel. Axel struggled with all of his might—he was leaning back, holding himself at a distance—but even I could tell that he was likely going to be overpowered. The gunman wasn’t even looking at me. My heart was pounding in my chest and every second that passed felt like a year.

 

“Get the fuck away from me!” Axel was yelling and trying to throw the gunman to the side when I twisted in my seat. Part of me wondered if I should just shove Axel out the open door and drive away. Maybe it would be better to leave this part of my life behind me. It would be so easy, just sell the Porsche, fix up my apartment, get my life back on track.

 

Stop thinking like that
, I ordered myself.
Axel saved your life. You can’t leave him behind
. I shuddered as I realized that if I left, I’d be responsible for Axel’s death. While there were definitely a few instances over the past few weeks that I’d wished him harm or discomfort, I couldn’t live with myself if he actually died. I couldn’t do that to him. It would make me no better than the asshole who was shooting at us.

 

A flash of something metallic caught my eye and I realized there was a crowbar on the floorboards of the backseat. Without even realizing what I was doing, I reached down and grabbed it, wrapping my fingers around the metal and holding it close. Axel and the gunman were struggling. Their bodies were so close together that their grasp could have almost been mistaken for an affectionate hug. Rage and anger filled me and I raised the crowbar over my head, closing my eyes and slamming it down on the head of the gunman. He bleated once and paused, blinking before he continued to fight Axel. The gunman’s eyes looked crazed. A glint of something gold flashed around my face as he whipped his arms over his head and reached for Axel’s neck.

 

“Asshole!” I hissed under my breath as I swung the bar back and cracked it down on his head again. A loud, sickening thump reverberated throughout the car and finally the gunman flopped down with his head hanging inside of the bar and his body hanging limp.

 

Axel turned to me in amazement. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

 

I dropped the crowbar like it was burning me. “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “What the fuck was that?”

 

I started shivering and shaking and Axel reached across the seat and stroked my cheek. “Thanks,” he muttered without meeting my eyes. A small glow of pride ignited within me. I couldn’t believe that I’d done something right for once. I’d saved Axel. I’d saved him. Me. Just me, all by myself.

 

I shook my head. “I can’t believe I did that,” I muttered. “Who was that guy? Why would he attack us like that?”

 

Axel looked at me blankly. “After all the shit that’s happened over the past day,
that’s
what you’re asking me?”

 

I blushed a deep bright red. “Sorry. This is just really hard for me to take in. I don’t know what to do.”

 

Axel shook his head. “Don’t worry about that.” He sighed deeply. “I need to do something about him,” he said, gesturing to the body. “You definitely knocked him out, but I don’t know for how long.”

 

I took a deep breath. “Do you….do you think someone else would try to hurt us like that?”

Chapter Eighteen

Axel

 

“What?” I blinked at Portia. “What did you just ask me?”

She cowered, letting her blonde hair fan over her lovely face. “I asked if someone else would try to hurt us like that,” she said softly. “I mean, do you think someone could be coming? Like right now?”

 

I glanced behind me. The purple sports car behind us was still running. There was no one else inside. “We’ll talk about that later,” I said darkly. “You know we have shit to take care of right now.”

 

Portia blinked. “What are you talking about?” She pulled out her phone and started dialing. “Axel, I’m calling the police!”

 

“No!” The force of my reply surprised even me. “Portia, put the fuckin’ phone down.” Portia shook her head, looking guarded. When she didn’t move to comply, I grabbed it out of her hands and threatened to toss it out of the broken window.

 

“Axel, don’t!” Portia screamed. “What if you need to get in touch with me!”

 

I shook my head. “Don’t fuckin’ call the cops,” I ordered. “That’s a fucking command, you got that?”

 

Portia’s wide blue eyes blinked. “Axel,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m really scared.”

 

I reached over and stroked her hair. “I know. But look, we’re running out of time. I gotta see who this asshole is.” Using all my might, I shoved the door open. The body slithered to the asphalt like some kind of prop doll. I glanced down at him. He was a nondescript, Italian-looking guy with tan skin and dark hair hidden under a ski mask that had been pushed up his face. Quickly, I got to my hands and knees and starting checking his hands, face, and neck for tattoos. There was nothing.

“Shit,” I mumbled. “Why couldn’t this guy have any fuckin’ ink?” In frustration, I ripped his shirt down the front. His chest was rising and falling in slow, even movements. I dug in his pockets, hoping for a wallet with a license inside. But there was nothing. I cursed loudly, forming my hand into a fist and punching the prone man’s stomach. He jerked slightly but didn’t stir on the pavement.

 

“Come on, come on,” I mumbled under my breath, searching his chest pockets and flipping him over. Just as I did, one of his sleeves raised up and I saw a flash of gold. He was wearing a gold watch.

 

I flashed back to that night at Maison Bridges, talking to the pimply busboy. He’d said one of the men was wearing a gold watch. I knew gold watches were commonplace as anything, but if this asshole was stupid enough to keep wearing it, I had to believe he was likely the same guy who had tried to kidnap Portia.

 

“I think I know who this is,” I said grimly. “This is one of the guys who showed up in the alley of Maison Bridges, one of the guys who tried to grab you.”

 

Portia slowly eased herself out of the car. “Oh my god,” she said softly when I’d tugged the ski mask over his face. “I think I recognize that guy.” She screwed her eyes shut. “I mean, I know it’s him,” she said with a solemn finality. “I recognize him.” She took a deep breath. “What are we going to do?”

 

I unclasped the watch and slipped it in my pocket. My fingers grazed over something inscribed on the back of the face but I didn’t take the time to look at it.
Later,
I thought.
Time for all of that shit later
.

 

“Portia, get back in the car,” I told her sternly. “And don’t get out, you hear me? Stay there until I come back.”

 

Portia’s eyes opened wide with fear. “Axel! Axel, where the hell are you going?” She looked at me with a terrified expression on her pale face. “What the hell are you going to do?”

 

I didn’t answer her. Getting to my feet and squatting, I picked up the gunman’s body and slung it over my shoulder. He was heavier than he looked, and I felt my back strain instantly. It had been years since I’d done this kind of grunt work and I wasn’t used to what it entailed. I hadn’t carried a prone body in a long time. There were some patchy woods over about fifty feet from the road. Gritting my teeth, I turned back towards the car.

 

“Portia, you better fucking listen to me, and you better fucking listen good,” I hissed. “You are not to leave the car. You are not to get out of the car. You are not to set foot on the road, you got that? You better fucking listen to me or there’s gonna be hell to pay.” I glared at her. “This is serious business. More serious than anything that’s happened between us. This is a matter of life and death, okay?”

 

Portia didn’t argue. She opened her mouth as if to speak and then closed her lips. “Okay,” she said softly. “I understand. I won’t leave the car.”

 

“Good girl. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

Turning towards the woods, I hefted the body even higher and started walking. Back on the road, I could hear the occasional car passing but each time I turned around, thankfully no one had stopped.

 

“Shit,” I muttered. “I have to get rid of that car.”

 

I dropped the man down on the ground and started jogging back towards the road.

 

When Portia saw me, a look of clear alarm registered on her face.

“What are you doing?” she hissed when I was close enough. “Did you just drop that guy in the grass?”

 

“I have to move his car,” I said under my breath. I climbed behind the wheel of the sports car. I gunned it into drive, slamming my foot on the gas and driving through the metal guardrail. When I turned around, Portia’s eyes were locked on me in a mix of admiration and horror.

 

Back in the field, I hopped out of the car and tossed the body into the backseat. The guy was still breathing and there was a terrifying moment when I thought he was going to wake up. I’d tossed his gun into my Porsche but I didn’t know if he had any other weapons on him, or worse, someone waiting nearby in case things hadn’t worked out. His head lolled in the backseat and I slammed my foot on the gas, driving across the field until the car was partially obscured by the woods.

 

“Off-roading!” I screamed loudly. “I fuckin’ love it!”

 

The feel of the car pushing over grass and roots was exhilarating. It was like driving an ATV through a rocky mountain road. I grinned to myself, knowing that I was ruining the tires and whatever cheap transmission was under the car. This piece of shit sports car didn’t hold a candle to my Porsche.
Fuckin henchmen can’t even get a nice car.
That solidified my suspicion that the guy was from another family business in the area. Anyone connected to the Riccardis at least had a nice ride.

 

I parked the car and climbed out of the front seat. Swinging the guy’s body over my shoulder, I winced under his weight and tried to straighten my spine. It reminded me of the first time I ever had to take someone out.

 

“Axel! Get down here!”

 

I jumped to my feet, eager to be included, and ran down to the basement. Pops and some of the other men, including Gianni, had been hard at work for hours. They’d come home around midnight, carrying a guy who was bound at the wrists.

 

“Don’t make any sounds,” Pops told him as they dragged him into our kitchen. “My girl’s upstairs, and she’s a light sleeper.”

 

“Dad, who is this guy?” I eyed him up and down. “What did he do?”

 

“It doesn’t matter, Axel,” Leo had said. “Stay upstairs and keep an eye out.”

 

For more than two hours, I’d obeyed. I’d heard occasional sounds that unsettled me—grunts, yelps, cries. But nothing prolonged, nothing like a scream. Still, I shivered every time there was a thump from below.

 

And now, Leo had asked me to come down into the basement. Admittedly, I was scared. I was eighteen years old, and this was the first time I’d ever been included in any kind of family activity. For the longest time, I’d had no idea how my family even made money. Leo had told me on my sixteenth birthday, when he’d taken me out to dinner and ordered me a beer. I’d been shocked, but then proud. It had been a relief to finally learn what my father did. And knowing made me feel included, like I was part of the pack. For months I’d begged to meet his friends, to sit in on a meeting. Leo had always refused, until today.

 

When I opened the door to the basement, I saw the floodlights were turned on. My eyes watered at the intense bright stimulation. When I started down the steps, I saw a sight that made me gasp. I quickly covered my mouth so the men wouldn’t hear me.

The hostage was tied to a chair. His mouth was gagged with duct tape and his hands were bound behind his back, but his eyes were showing bright white and wide open. I felt a trickle of panic run down my spine as I walked down the stairs, but I was determined not to let Leo know how scared I was. I’d never been around my dad when he’d hurt someone else, and part of the fear that struck me was the idea of seeing my father as a killer.

“Son, glad you’re here,” Leo said. He pushed me to the front of the room. “This is the night my son joins the family,” he said solemnly. The man in the chair let out a yelp and one of Leo’s men smacked him in the face. “We’re all real happy that you’re here, son.”

 

I felt a burst of familial pride. I was happy, too, but I didn’t want to say so. Instead, I put a tough smirk on my face and looked up at Leo.

 

“How can I help, Pops?”

 

Gianni stepped forward. He was a tall man, tanned with pale blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. There had always been something about him that made me shiver, but I’d been unable to put my finger on it before now. Now, I realized what it was: he was ruthless, he was a natural killer. He wasn’t the kind of man I’d ever want to turn my back on.

 

Gianni pressed a pair of shears into my palm. “This man,” he said, gesturing to the man tied up in the chair, “thought he could pull a fast one on us, son. He told your father that he didn’t know what happened to the investment. Turns out he was hiding everything for himself! He wanted to run away with our fuckin’ money!”

 

The man in the chair paled even more. Suddenly, I recognized him. His name was Pauly; he was a man who had worked with my father on a few jobs.

 

“I know you,” I said, the anger rising in my body. I couldn’t believe that someone my father had trusted, someone who had pledged his loyalty to my family, would want to go and betray us like that. I wanted to kill him, I wanted to turn him into a pulpy smear that didn’t even resemble a man. I wanted him dead.

 

“And that’s not all,” Gianni said in a low voice. He walked around the bound man in circles, glaring at him. The man shuddered and shivered and I could tell he was frightened. Gianni leaned down in his face. “This man made an inappropriate pass at my wife,” he said. “He threatened her. He made her feel unsafe, in her own goddamn home. For that, I oughta cut your fuckin’ balls off,” he said, leaning down in Pauly’s face. “You fuckin’ hear me, Pauly?”

 

Leo nodded. “This man’s a fuckin’ dead man,” he said with a grin. “Son, you do the honors.” He gestured for me to walk behind the man and use the shears.

 

I couldn’t begin to explain it, but somehow I felt nervous. Somehow, I felt like I shouldn’t be doing this. A feeling like panic and dread swirled inside my belly. When I grabbed one of the man’s bound hands, he started whimpering and screaming before the blades of the shears even touched his skin.

 

“Take off a finger,” Leo said. He grinned and waved his hand in the air. Suddenly, my father looked like a stranger. I’d always seen him as a remote, distant figure, a figure to be worshipped. But now he looked like a madman. He looked more alive than I’d ever seen him: there was a bright glow in his eyes and his usually pale skin was red around the face and cheeks. “Make him hurt, boy. Make him hurt the same way he hurt our family. Maybe if you take enough fingers, he’ll tell you where the fuckin’ money is!”

 

“Yeah, Axel, find our missing cash,” Gianni said. He winked at me and one of his gold teeth glinted. “Fuckin’ help us, boy.”

 

With trembling fingers, I grabbed one of Pauly’s thumbs and clamped the shears down around the base. Blood spurted out and sprayed all over the front of my shirt. Pauly let out a low, liquid scream and then fainted. Gianni stepped forward with a bucket of water and dumped it over his head.

 

“Gotta keep him awake, son,” Gianni said, as if advising me on a trade secret. “You wanna make sure he feels every little bit of this fun.”

 

My stomach rolled and turned and for a moment, I thought I was going to be sick. I was still holding Pauly’s thumb in my hand and I dropped it, horrified. It didn’t feel like part of a living man, it felt cold, like clay. Leo laughed.

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