Lorenzo
I was born to rule, the firstborn son of a dangerous man with no conscience. I was taught the old ways, brutal in every aspect, unforgiving in every manner. We were gods, feared by anyone who'd crossed our path. I took what I wanted, no matter the consequences. Chicago was my playground, my tastes bordering on heinous. I was a sadistic man with little patience, but there was no time for entertainment. There was unrest on the city streets, vicious rumors flying. I would do what was necessary to regain control.
Heads would roll.
People would die.
Obedience would be restored.
No one interrupted me for fear of my wrath, which is why the sight of the tall, voluptuous woman piqued my interest as well as forced my cock to throb. I tilted my head as she was presented like a treat meant for a king, only she was broken, fractured in several ways.
Blood.
For some, it meant life. For others the claws of Satan.
The girl's face and hands were splattered with the caustic substance, her body shaking as she stood in front of me. The king of the underworld. The fact the girl was even here meant she had guts, something I admired. Cowards had no place in society. Her mouth twisted before opening, the sounds she muttered strangled, the words inaudible. She was rubbing her hands on her jeans, a futile attempt to wipe away the horrific stains.
What. The. Fuck?
Blood rained in the streets, violence within various communities of Chicago escalating, but the fallen bodies were almost always men, leaving widows in their wake.
This was... unexpected.
On the inside, I was fuming, my blood pressure rising. On the outside, I was the calm and collected leader of the most powerful mafia family in the Midwest, loathed by the majority who knew me and everyone who'd only heard the family name.
And the trail of devastation.
This had all the markings of a hit, except I had no idea who the hell the girl was and why she'd be standing in my house. I vaguely heard my second in command as I studied her, my instinct on overdrive. There was a distinct familiarity about her.
But my attention was drawn back to the phone call at hand.
"Just fucking deal with him, Vincenzo. You know exactly what to do. Rafael needs a lesson in who owns him and his business. No one betrays me." I couldn't take my eyes off the girl, my mind taken to several dark places. "An eye for an eye. Make certain he never steals from me again." I ended the call, tossing my cell phone on the desk. Her slight gasp reminded me what a heartless man I'd become. However, business was business, and no one challenged my authority in any manner or faced the consequences. At least I hadn't given the order to end the asshole's life. "What the hell, Dante? I'm in no mood for interruptions."
"Sorry, boss. She just showed up at the gate outside insisting that she knew you. Do you want me to kick her out of here? Probably just a tramp seeking a quick fix."
I shifted my gaze toward my top Capo, unable to process the question given the rage enveloping every inch of my system. I knew he meant well, even with his crass words. My reputation of being a hard man, one loathing disruptions of any kind was well known, not only with the ranks of my soldiers but also everyone who'd ever been forced to deal with me.
I was brutal and unforgiving, my taste for vengeance allowing a tight rein.
Attacking a woman was something else entirely.
I gazed down the length of the young woman, snarling under my breath. She was barefoot, with visible scratches on her arms, her clothes disheveled and soiled with what appeared to be dirt or perhaps worse. What stood out the most to me was her once luxurious red hair, portions now caked with dried blood, strings falling across her porcelain skin.
"You can speak," I told her, hoping she'd give me some hint about her sudden appearance.
"Please help me, please. You're the only one I can turn to," she half whispered in an agonized manner, her voice husky from whatever terror she'd experienced.
"It's all right, Dante. How the hell did she get here?" I asked as I rose to my feet, inching around the corner of my desk. It was late, almost midnight. While my address in Winnetka certainly wasn't a secret, very few people had balls large enough to knock on my front door.
"A cab dropped her off. Had to give the asshole driver a few bills," Dante answered, pushing her forward gently. "She has no identification of any kind and no money either. The freak attempted to extort two hundred large. Almost broke his freakin' neck."
"Did you grill the cabbie?" I lifted an eyebrow when my soldier hesitated. "You did find out where the fuck he picked her up. Right?"
"Course, boss. Fuller Park."
What the fuck was a beautiful woman doing in Fuller Park? The streets were crime-ridden and the horrific violence had nothing to do with the Francesco mafia.
My family.
My domain.
Feral animals controlled that particular area of town; drug dealers and sex traffickers even keeping the police at bay.
"Interesting. Are you hurt, doll?"
She swallowed several times before shaking her head, shifting from foot to foot. From the looks of it, she'd run a distance in order to get away from her attacker. There was something haunting about her appearance.
"All right. Let's start with your name and why you insisted on coming to my house," I demanded.
She chewed on her lower lip, blinking several times. Shit, we were getting nowhere. She was obviously nervous and untrusting, as if I wouldn't be in her condition. I had to give her some slack.
"Take off, Dante. I can handle this from here." While he knew better than to question my command, he took long strides in my direction, clearing his throat before lowering his voice.
"You sure that's wise, boss? She could be a plant or an assassin. You know the shit a few of us have heard recently."
Sighing, I also realized that given the various difficulties the syndicate had faced lately, including the murder of two of my low-level soldiers, I should remain on edge. However, my instincts were usually damn good. This girl wasn't a threat.
Someone was out to kill her.