The Mafia Don's Nemesis
Isabella’s POV
Tonight was the night. The night I have waited years for, the night I get to see the devil himself—the Don of Dons, Don Lorenzo Marino—a man who is faceless, heartless, and untouchable, whose name was only heard in whispers. The devil of La Confraternita Nera.
La Confraternita Nera, also known as the Black Brotherhood, was more than just a Mafia family. It was a Mafia conglomerate, the biggest and deadliest in the world, and ruled by the devil himself, Don Lorenzo Marino—the bastard that had called the hit on my boss, Lucas Smith, while Lucas was doing his job investigating the brotherhood, searching for the face behind the devil.
Lucas hadn’t just been my boss. He had been my mentor, my work father. He had been everything no one has ever been to me—a family.
The memory of that night stayed etched in my mind like a mural, the night Lucas had been found in an abandoned water tank. His neck had been slit like a chicken’s, his body bloated and chalk white after days of floating in water.
I owe it to him to continue his investigation, to avenge his death, and to bring down Lorenzo Marino and the brotherhood. For that, I had no problem disguising myself as arm candy for the most vile man possible—one of the seven lesser dons of La Confraternita Nera—Don Vincenzo Caruso.
Don Vincenzo’s grip was iron around my waist as we climbed down from the car. Thank God he hadn’t thought to paw me yet. I’d heard wild stories about his sleazy hands.
“You are going to enjoy our time here, Love. I promise you.” He smiled at me with his nicotine-stained teeth. I gave him my best smile in return. Though, I was sure our definition of enjoyment greatly differs.
Done up in a scarlet dress that clung to my curves and a load of makeup plastered to my face, I looked just like I had planned—a high-class escort he’d hired, a role I’d rehearsed for weeks. To fool Vincenzo and the other dons, I didn’t just have to dress the part; I had to look it too.
Perched against the dark sweep of the forest and resting on the mountain, La Confraternita Nera’s resort looked less like a retreat and more like a fortress. It was named after the brotherhood because it was the location for their yearly secret conference.
The resort was a massive structure of timber and stone carved into the mountainside, with windows blazing gold against the night.
We strolled down a path tiled with polished cobblestones, burnished brown by the golden lights from the lanterns around. I did a visual sweep of the property as we walked. I compared and contrasted what I was seeing with the details I had gotten from a blueprint of the resort Lucas had left behind.
My attempts at breaking into the resort to have a firsthand view in the past led me to realize it was an impenetrable fortress from the outside, so I had just been stuck with the blueprints, but now with the added advantage of a firsthand view, I adjusted my escape route in my head. Once I got my story and some evidence to back it up, especially evidence about Lucas’ murder, then escape was the next best thing to do, before the bastards got any wiser.
My eyes wandered strategically. Primary exits: front gate and main road—heavily guarded, low success probability. I would have gotten a couple bullets in me before I reached the gate. Secondary exit: kitchen dock or forest slope—possible, but with diversion and timing. It was the best choice, but it wouldn’t be easy. There was also the blind spot: the southeast service corridor—no cameras according to the blueprints and information Lucas had logged before he got hit. It should have been the easy route, but that area of the resort was flanked now by guards in every direction. All dressed in tailored black suits, hands tucked too casually near the guns beneath their jackets. All armed, just like the other guards scattered around the premises.
The guards were the biggest challenge of all, but still, with my plan, I should come out of this with my neck intact. I know I was walking myself into the devil’s lair. But how do you get to see the devil and destroy him if you don’t venture into his hell?
The massive parking lot was crammed with multitudes of Rolls Royces and some other expensive cars. The other dons were here already. I braced up my nerves, and we climbed into the foyer, marching for the main hall.
The lighting inside was low. A chandelier that spilled diamonds across the marble floor claimed the large ceiling of the main hall.
The other dons, all wearing crisp tailored suits, turned as we entered, their eyes sharp and calculating, and their gazes flickering on us. They gathered like kings in a court.
It was no news that the seven lesser dons never really got along with each other. Yet somehow Don Lorenzo Marino was able to weave such a crew of self-pompous men into an extremely dangerous Mafia outfit.
“Late as always,” Don Silvio Romano muttered, his smooth voice coated in disdain. He had curly black hair stained with flecks of gray and a jaw as smooth as his silk shirt. According to the information Lucas had left before his death, Don Silvio runs the family’s clubs and casinos.
“Better late than ugly,” Don Vincenzo shot back with a crooked grin, tugging me closer as if I were his prize. “Gentlemen, meet my girl,” he announced, looking past Silvio to the others.
Their stares pinned me in place. My heartbeat stilled to extreme calm as I held their heated, and from a couple of them, lusting gazes. I forced a smile, tilting my chin high, channeling every ounce of bravado to look calm and sexy as I’d practiced. It was still too early to break.
“She is quite pretty,” Don Pietro Vitale said, his lips framed in a dark grin. He clipped a huge cigar between his much-terrible nicotine-stained teeth. Tall, gaunt, and balding, he oversees shipping and international smuggling for the family.
Don Vincenzo chuckled darkly. “Prettier in private.” Then his hand slid down my hip deliberately, and the bastard grabbed my ass as if he bloody owned it.
I controlled my breathing, fighting back the flaring tension in me and the heat that flooded my cheeks. Losing my calm now could compromise my mission.
“Is he here already?” he asked and searched the faces around for answers.
Don Pietro shook his bald head. “No. But he should be by tomorrow.” He spoke with his teeth still clamped on the cigar.
“Goodbye then, gentlemen. We’ll see when he arrives tomorrow,” Don Vincenzo said to the others. His gaze swept Don Ricardo Santoro, Don Matteo Russo, Don Alessandro Bellini, and Don Fabrizio Moretti, the finance manager, the consigliere, the armorer and arms salesman, and the security manager and enforcer, respectively.
The suite stretched vast, with velvet curtains drawn against the night, a massive king-size bed, and a balcony overlooking the Black Forest below.
Don Vincenzo released my waist as soon as we got to the massive bedroom, only to catch my chin between his fingers, tilting my face toward his. His smile was wolfish. “Play nice now, Bella. You’re in my world now.”
His thick, strong hands claimed my waist, and he pulled me into his big, fat body. He pressed his miserable lips on me without warning. I summoned up all the strength in me, and I pushed him off me.
I buried my disgust under a façade of seductive smiles. “Why don’t we wash up first and have some drinks, and then we get right to it?” I proposed.
I had no plans of letting a man twice my age and size hump over me. I had some pills ready with which to make sure he didn’t continue to be a bother for the rest of the night.
His face only took on a dark hue, a frown claiming in his eyes. “Let’s get down to business first. Then we can drink and chat later.”
As much as I don’t want him to paw me, I wouldn’t want him furious either. I drew closer, letting him wrap his fat arms around me again. He lunged for my lips, but I held him back, caressing his large bald head—hairless as one giant egg.
The task appalled even me. But did I have a choice? I have to bring them down, the brotherhood and Lorenzo Marino. I had to avenge Lucas, and for that, I’ll do anything. I lifted his head with a finger so his eyes were looking at mine.
“Why rush, Don Vincenzo? I am yours forever,” I said. I tapped his nose naughtily with my long artificial nails. “Why don’t you just wait? Let’s have some drinks, and then you can have me for yourself,” I said, and I walked out of his arm.
I turned to the mini bar in the room, my eyes roaming the stocks for a champagne.
“I don’t care about the drinks, Bella. Just come back and let’s get right to business,” he said, curt and cold.
I pretended not to hear him as I pulled a bottle of champagne and two wine glasses, all from the bar shelf. I pulled the cork, and the drink popped out, all the while pretending not to hear his grunts and curses behind me. I tipped the opening of my purse as I poured us a drink, and a sedative capsule dropped into one of the glasses. It dissolved fast, under eight seconds, as the doctor said it would.
“Come here, Bella.” He reached for my waist. He pulled me fast to him, my heels scratching the tiles. I almost tripped and fell, but his strong hands held me steady. I held the glass to him, bubbles floating at the belly of the glass where the drug had dissolved.
He hesitated for half a second—pride and suspicion battling behind his eyes.
“What’s wrong? Afraid you can’t keep up?” I teased, playing on his ego as I sipped from my own glass.
His ego handled things as I hoped. He snatched the glass from my fingers and poured the contents down his throat in one long gulp. He flung the glass away, unconcerned as it sailed to the wall and crashed with a sharp, piercing cry.
“Now, I can have you to myself, Bella.” His wolfish smile claimed even his eyes.
Not for long, bastard, I thought.
He pressed his lips hard on mine as he led me to the bed, his sleazy fingers touching every part of me—my ass and my breasts—and I let him. He had barely pushed me to the bed when his muscles weakened around me.
His eyes blazed with heat as he pinned them on me. Just a moment before they closed, his face tightened in a snarl. “What did you…”
He collapsed onto me with a loud, sleepy grunt before he could finish.
