Owned by the Italian Mafia Don: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 2)
Owned by the Italian Mafia Don: Chapter 30

Twenty-four hours have gone by without her, and they are the hardest hours of my life. I’ve combed every inch of this city and she’s nowhere to be found. I have the men looking in the woods, every business, every restaurant, interrogating anyone we come across to see if they have any information.

Right now, I’m in Amor, pressing a gun against one of Bianchi’s men. Gunshots ring out, my men killing everyone in who gets in their way. The strippers run out of the club screaming and Matias pours gasoline over the stages.

“Where is she?” I sneer, pressing the gun harder against his temple.

“I don’t know.” He falls to his knees, spit trembling down his chin as he sobs for his life. “I don’t know. Honestly. I’m only a runner. He doesn’t tell me things. I only push the drugs. That’s it. I swear, I swear. Please, I have a baby on the way. Please.” He hangs his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he waits for me to pull the trigger.

Fuck.

I wouldn’t have cared about his sob story if Rosie hadn’t come into the picture. She might be pregnant with my child too.

I lift him by the shirt and shove him to Matias. “He is coming with us.”

“I found the bartender!” Gianni says, lifting up a man I can hardly recognize.

He’s been beaten to a pulp and left for dead.

Every step Gianni takes, the bartender’s feet drag.

“Is he alive?”

“Barely,” he answers me. “He needs a doctor.”

I’d have left him for dead too if Rosie hadn’t asked for him. “I thought they killed him.”

“Looks like they changed their minds,” Gianni says just as Matias strikes a match.

He tosses it onto the stage, igniting the gasoline. Wild flames grow, dancing sinfully and wrapping around the silver poles mimicking the limber legs and arms of strippers.

“Let’s go. Nothing is left for us here,” I say, leaving the bodies to burn.

The cops are already outside when we stroll out of the building, luckily, they are cops that work for me.

“Officer Strickland,” I nod, opening the door for Gianni to help our bartender inside.

“That man needs a doctor,” he informs.

“And I’ll get him one.”

He sighs, hands on his hips as he stares at the burning building. “I’ll take care of this.”

“I know you will. Your brother’s care is in my hands after all,” I remind him.

His brother is set up in a VIP suite at the hospital, getting the best cancer treatment there is from a doctor I flew in for him. Strickland and I go way back, so we work well together.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he says, reaching for his radio. “You need to leave. I’m calling this in. We need the fire department.”

“I’d wait,” I state, shoving the guy who begged for his life in the car. “There are bodies that need to be taken of.”

“I can’t wait too long, Ari. You know that. And I didn’t see you kidnapping anyone,” he tacks on in a tone that tells me he is tired of me breaking the law.

I give him a curt nod. “I know.”

I climb into the driver’s seat and Gianni is the one who is in the passenger, aiming the gun at our hostages. Not that the bartender could do anything, he’s out cold, bleeding out of his nose and mouth, then the cuts all over his body. He probably has internal bleeding too.

“Don’t even think about moving,” Gianni says.

“Where am I going to go? I’m not jumping from a moving vehicle.”

As I drive down the road, I peek in the rearview mirror. “What’s your name? I figure I should know it since I didn’t kill you.” I press the pedal to the floor, speeding down the road as fast as I can to get home. Maybe someone there has news about Rosie. Every second that passes by is a chance she could be dead.

I didn’t think she’d be at Amor, but I was desperate. The only place I haven’t looked is the woods to see if she’s been buried, but I can’t think like that right now. I don’t think he’d do that. I don’t think he’d kill her when he wants the gem. I’ve checked the room high and low for that stupid fucking stone and it isn’t there.

Perhaps she took it with her, but I would have heard something by now if she did. Bianchi would have found it and her body would have been delivered to me.

“What’s it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway,” he answers.

“I might not. Not if you help me replace my wife,” I state.

“I really don’t know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “I would help you if I could because I would be beside myself I something happened to my wife.”

“Just think for me.” I slam my hand against the wheel. “Please. Think.”

He nods, his eyes moving to the gun aimed at him. “I promise I won’t try anything. Please, get that gun out of my face.”

“Do it,” I tell Gianni, checking out my side mirror to make sure Matias is still behind us. “He has nowhere to go unless he wants to kill himself jumping out of the car.”

He grunts at my reply.

“Tell me your name.”

“Giorgio,” he answers just as the bartender coughs and falls to the right, landing on him.

“Fuck. He’s going to be okay, right? He’s not a bad guy.”

“I’m debating,” I growl, wrapping my fingers around the steering wheel.

I turn into the driveway of the estate and come to slam on the breaks, the car skidding to a stop when I notice an unfamiliar car waiting for me and my men pointing their weapons at someone.

I jump out of the vehicle and pull my gun out, aiming at it as I walk around the fountain. My eyes catch on a disturbed flower. Everything is always in place. All plants are strategically planted.

Walking through the soil, I kick the flower out of the way and the hole appears where it should be settled.

The stone. I hurry to pick it up and place it in my pocket. What a horrible place to hide it. What was she thinking?

“Mr. Milazzo.”

The Russian accent has me lifting my gun around, coming around the front end of the car to see Zander. He is leaning against his SUV casually, not worried about the five guns pointed at him.

Six, including mine.

“Zander.” I lower my gun and tuck it back in my pants, wanting to show I’m not a threat, but one word from my men, and they will fire. “What are you doing at my home?”

“I believe you and I could work together so we both can get what we want.” His accent makes the words he speaks sound so much harsher.

“And how could we possibly help one another.”

He grins, flicking the cigarette to the ground. He steps on it, using the front edge of his shoe to put out the ember. “Well, you have something I want, and I know someone who has something you want.”

I step closer. “You know where Rosie is? How? Where?”

“I just got done speaking with Bianchi. He owes me that stone, Mr. Milazzo. I’m not leaving this fucking city without it. I’m giving Bianchi one more day.” He lifts one finger. “But I don’t think he’ll give it to me because he doesn’t have it, but you do, don’t you? You have had it the entire time because of the girl. She’s pretty by the way.”

I growl, taking a step forward and he lifts his hands in surrender. “I’m here, aren’t I? Bianchi doesn’t expect me to do business with you, but he told me the girl had the stone, but she doesn’t have it, so I’m here.” He spreads his arms. “And I want to make a deal.”

“Is she hurt?” I ask, not hiding the pathetic need in my tone.

“Yes,” he says honestly with a frown.

I throw my fist against the passenger window of his car, cracking the glass as I roar. I push myself back and pin him to the SUV by his throat. His men point their guns at me, but I don’t care. “Is she alive?” I rasp.

“She is. She is very strong and has a big attitude which doesn’t help her cause very much, but she doesn’t back down. She’s a fighter.”

I nod, hoping she doesn’t lose that. I never want her to lose her ability to fight. It is what will keep her alive.

“You can have your wife back soon, but I want that stone. I am not a man who makes deals, Mr. Milazzo. Not unless someone comes to me. If I get the gem, Rosie lives, and you can live happily ever after.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I only want the gem. You want your wife. I know where she is. It’s simple. You betray me, I kill you and her. What do you say?” He holds out his hand for us to solidify the deal.

“What makes you think I have it? If she doesn’t have it, her brother might.”

He chuckles. “I am not a stupid man, Mr. Milazzo. Unlike our friend, Bianchi. I know you got them out of the country and there’s no way you would have let that stone out of your sight. You knew how much it was worth.”

It wasn’t me. It was Rosie. I won’t mention that though.

“And I don’t think Rosie would allow her brother to hold onto such a dangerous object. So tell me, do you want your wife? Or would you rather fight me for the diamond?”

“I want my wife. No question. If you turn your back on me, I’ll kill you.”

“I have no intention of turning my back on you, Mr. Milazzo. I like you more than him anyway. So, give me the diamond and we will go.”

“I don’t think so. I want my wife safe and then I’ll give you whatever the hell you want. My wife is first.”

He eyes me for a moment, deciding if I’m worth trusting, then nods, holding out his hand again. “You have yourself a deal, Mr. Milazzo.”

I shake his hand, feeling hope for the first time since Rosie went missing.

“Everyone get to the vehicles now!” I shout over my shoulder with the order.

All the men run around me, filling Gianni and Matias’s SUVs while the others head to the garage.

“I’m going to kill him,” I mumble, getting in the passenger seat of Zander’s vehicle.

“Are you riding with me, Mr. Milazzo?” he asks, climbing into the backseat.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” I stare at him in the rearview mirror. “No offense.”

“None taken. I would do the same,” he says, lighting yet another cigarette. “We win. We shall celebrate. Da?” he asks.

I nod, twisting the wedding band on my finger. The only thing I want to celebrate is my wife in my arms again, but I can’t be that emotional when talking to a black-market gem dealer.

“We will celebrate with the best whiskey and cigars,” I tell him.

“Make it vodka,” he corrects. “Whiskey is for pussies.”

I grin. “Vodka it is.”

The car lurches forward and a line of black SUVs follows us out of the gate. The tires hum and the engine purrs as we speed down the street. No one speaks but the longer the car ride goes on for, the more I wonder if I made the wrong deal. What other choice did I have?

We drive an hour outside of the city and I begin to question where we are going when Zander speaks.

“When we get there, you notice the property is older, but it is nice. It has been in the Bianchi family for a hundred years. He doesn’t stay there but he likes to go there when he is troubled. The gem was actually harvested here. Another hasn’t been mined here since. This diamond is one of a kind.”

“There are other diamonds. I’ve seen black diamonds.”

“Not like this. Not this size and not in this area.”

“Ah, so that’s what makes it special.”

He nods. “I can make millions off that diamond. I bought it from Bianchi. He said he was in a pinch. He must have been really desperate, but then he didn’t deliver. I don’t like it when people don’t deliver.”

The threat is hidden in his statement. I hear it.

“Me either,” I say. “No wonder I couldn’t replace her. She wasn’t even in town. I didn’t fucking think to look out here. We did a background check on Bianchi. This property didn’t show up as addresses listed.”

“Of course not. He made sure of that.”

I wanted to kick myself. I wanted to punish myself for not thinking smarter. Carmine would have thought of that. How long would it have been since I found her if Zander didn’t come replace me? What if I never found her?

“Don’t kick yourself,” Zander says, lighting yet another cigarette. “You can’t replace what isn’t there. He only shares this address with those he trusts. Not many know about this. I’m risking my reputation bringing you here if you fuck me over.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your reputation. I want my wife and then you can have your goddamn gem.” I’m about sick of the damn thing being in my life.

“Excellent. Perhaps this is the start of a beautiful business relationship. Don’t you think, Mr. Milazzo?”

“I’m not in the market for exotic gems,” I reply, my eyes set on the road ahead. I’m waiting for the driveway to come to view. I want my fucking wife.

“I have my hands in many cookie jars. Isn’t that what you Americans say?” he chuckles at the ridiculous phrase. “You Americans. I don’t get it.”

“To answer your question, I am not interested in gems. After today, I’m not sure how we could work together.”

“I can get you anything you want. Whatever you want pushed in your city, I can be your supplier. As for gems, perhaps you’d make money selling to your other…suppliers. Wouldn’t they love to get their hands on rare gems that aren’t available in stores?”

He’s got a point.

“I’ll think about it,” I say, sitting forward as a driveway comes to view.

“Excellent. I look forward to us doing business together. I believe it will beneficial.”

Luckily, I don’t have to reply because we turn left down a paved driveway with large green rolling fields that seem to go on forever. The house itself is old and hasn’t been maintained. It’s a shame because the old worn beige stone is gorgeous. Dead vines creep along the outside, framing the arch on the windows.

There are a few cars parked on the lawn. We park right outside the grand entrance of the front door.

I wait for no one else. I don’t wait for the car to stop. I open the car door and surge forward. My gun is out, and I aim at the wooden door with iron hinges.

And I don’t fucking wait.

I unload the clip in the door, release it when it’s empty, and fill it with another. I run forward, not giving a fuck if I don’t have backup, then kick the door down. Two men are lying dead on the cracked wooden floors, blood running from their bodies and pooling under them. Their eyes are open and not blinking.

“I like your way of doing things, Mr. Milazzo. Fuck, talking, am I right?” Zander asks, tossing his cigarette on the dead bodies. “I never like negotiating and telling a story. You know? Like the people in the movies that hold a gun to someone’s head and just talk about their reasoning or spew their life story when they always get stopped. They wouldn’t have been stopped if they just shot who they intended to shoot, you know? You have to know.”

“You talk a lot too,” I say to him, not holding back as I aim my gun down the hallway.

I begin to head down the hallway when Zander grabs my shoulder to stop me. “She won’t be in a room.”

He points to the floor. “She’s in the basement.”

The sound of footsteps fill the circular living room and men are running down the hallway on the right and left side.

I turn and so does Zander, our backs nearly touching, and we fire our weapons. One of the men charging at me stops, dropping to the floor when I put a bullet between his eyes. I’m able to shoot another too, but the last one slams against me.

He tackles me to the floor, pushing Zander out of the way and our team bursts through the door, taking care of the men coming from the right side of the hall. Bullets fly and glass shatters as they hit the windows, lamps, and vases.

The man manages to roll me onto my back and punches me in the face. The gun is slapped from my hand, and it slides across the floor. I catch his hand, bending his wrist until I hear an audible break.

He shouts from the pain and I’m able to push him off me, punching him across the face next. When he is down, I stand, smashing my foot against his broken wrist which has him crying out until his voice is shot. I bend down and wrap my hand around his throat, wondering if he is one of the men that has dared to breathe in my wife’s direction.

I curl my lip as I pour every ounce of my strength into crushing his fucking windpipe. His face turns red, and his eyes are wide, the whites bloodshot from the pressure. With his good hand, he slaps my arms, but he’s losing the battle.

His attempts become weaker and weaker until finally, he stops breathing. His arm hits the floor with a thud.

I wipe my forehead with my arm and look up in time to see Matias and someone else fall through the window.

“Matias!” I yell for him, running to where he is when I see him stand, grab a piece of glass from the ground and stabs the enemy. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grunts, rolling his head over his shoulders. “Fucking hate these assholes.” Bianchi’s guy starts crawling on the ground and Matias grips him by his hair, then yanks his head back. He slices the glass shard across the man’s throat.

Blood flows freely like a waterfall and Matias drops the body with a hard shove, stepping on the man’s back as he walks toward me.

Zander yells, more like a triumphant battle cry, and shoves the gun in his victim’s mouth, then pulls the trigger.

I stare at the carnage. Bodies and blood are everywhere.

“Is everyone okay?” I ask, my eyes mapping each person, my team, and Zanders.

“Nothing a band-aid can’t fix, da?” One of Zander’s men says.

“Where is the door to the basement?” I ask Zander, feeling lost in this damn house.

“Follow me. Watch your step. Blood everywhere,” he says as if it’s ironic.

He runs and I follow, our steps are loud in the tunnel of the hallway. I’ve never seen a house like this. The hall is arched, like a circle.

When we get to the end of the hall, two men the size of tanks are there and I don’t hesitate, I kill them both before they have the opportunity to lift their weapons.

Waiting isn’t an option.

I won’t give them the fucking pleasure.

Like Zander said, I won’t be the guy who aims a gun then talk to waste time.

I rip the door open and trample down the steps, the darkness engulfing me. It smells musky, wet, and the cold air feels good against my heated skin. To the left is a storage room and on the right is another hall, I follow it, only to see Bianchi there holding my wife in his arms.

She’s in her fucking underwear.

And Bianchi has a gun pointed at her temple.

“Her for the stone,” he offers.

Bianchi is taller than Rosie and I’m sure he expected me to talk, but I don’t want to. I have nothing to say when he is holding everything I love most in this world at gunpoint. I lift my weapon above her head and pull the trigger.

Rosie screams but when his hold on her loosens, she falls to the ground, and Bianchi staggers for a moment. One drop of blood flows down his nose from the gunshot in the middle of his forehead. His eyes are wide, his brain struggling to come to the realization of what just happened. He finally falls to his knees and for the hell of it, I empty the rest of my clip into him.

I sprint to Rosie, shrugging my blazer off, and placing it over her. She’s cold and I don’t want anyone else to see her like this.

“Tesoro,” I whisper, gathering her in my arms where she’s safe.

“You came for me.” Her voice is weak and tired.

“I will always replace you. In any corner of this damned world, I’ll replace you because after this I’m putting a tracker in your arm.”

She tiredly laughs, closing her eyes for a second as she clutches onto my arm. “You have a deal.”

I open the coat, noticing the bruising on her body and her face. They fucking touched her. “Did they…” I swallow as fury boils up my throat. “Did they rape you, Rosie?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Just roughed me up. I’m not dressed because they checked to see if I was hiding the stone.”

I stand, keeping her in my arms and held against my chest; we’re ready to get the fuck out of here.

“How is she?” Matias asks when I climb up the steps.

“Fine. She’s safe. Let’s go.”

I bypass Zander on the way out and set her in the car. She’s already asleep by the time I close the door.

I dig into my pocket and hold out the diamond for Zander. “I’ll go into business with you on one condition,” I offer.

“Name it.” He stares at the stone and licks his lips, practically frothing at the mouth for it.

“I’ll pay you for this stone if you turn it into a one-of-a-kind engagement ring. I’m assuming you’re a jeweler since you like stones so much.”

“You’d guess right,” he says, sighing. “Deal, but I’ll need it for a few months. I’m a busy man.”

“That’s fine. Take it and go.”

“I look forward to our future together, Mr. Milazzo.”

The only future I care about is the one I have with Mrs. Milazzo. I’m never letting her out of my sight again.