The Billionaire Mafia (5 book series), chapter one

RORY My future has been decided and it feels like the final nail in my coffin. The sad thing is I haven’t been allowed to give any input. Ever since I can remember, my father has made every decision regarding my life.

Where I go to school (boarding schools followed by University in Europe), what I study (only subjects appropriate for an obedient young woman, commence eye roll), when I’m allowed to visit home or friends (exactly twice a year—my family on Christmas and a summer holiday with one of my girlfriends). He’s used to controlling everything and everyone around him. As the reigning Don of the Marino family empire, he gives an order and people follow it, whether they agree with it or not.

Because Matteo Marino is too scary to say no to and the consequences of rebelling against him would most likely result in death. My father rules Chicago with an iron fist. He has legitimate businesses, corporations that make billions of dollars, but he also plays in the darkness, ruling over the shadows with a ruthlessness that makes my stomach turn.

It’s a part of himself that he keeps away from me, well hidden in the shadows, but I don’t like to think about it. The rumors I’ve heard about his legendary viciousness make my skin crawl. I have a hard time reconciling the family man I see who takes care of my mother, me and my siblings with the monster who has supposedly committed horrendous acts of violence.

Currently, I’m sitting in a chair on the opposite side of my father’s desk, and I wonder if the terrible rumors are true. Does he enjoy threatening and killing people? Is that how he’s made so much of his money?

It’s something I try to avoid thinking about and I shift in the uncomfortable chair and study his face which looks like it’s carved from stone. It’s all hard planes and angles and not even his slightly round nose looks soft. His dark brown eyes appear black and his thick, dark hair is smoothed back, held in place by a gel that smells like sweet tobacco.

“You’re turning 25 this year, Aurora,” he states.

“It’s time for you to take on your duties and responsibilities, and that means marrying Dante and producing heirs to carry on the Marino family legacy.”

My eyes slide shut at the mention of Dante Rivera. He’s my father’s top enforcer and almost ten years older than me. I want nothing to do with him, but there’s no missing the way he looks at me.

He knows we’re supposed to get engaged this year and I’m sure he’s counting the days down until he can slide into my bed and ravish me. A chill runs through my entire body. I have no interest in sleeping with a man like Dante much less becoming his wife.

But what can I do? How can I possibly tell my father no? No one says no to Matteo Marino.

Ever. I would be the first…if I can gather my courage and face off with him. But that would result in disaster.

He’d probably cut me off, punish me, maybe even toss me out of here and onto the street. Am I being ungrateful by not wanting to do as he says? He’s provided me with everything that I’ve ever needed my entire life.

“Aurora?”

My head snaps up and I stop wringing my hands in my lap. “Yes, papà?”

“This is a good match. Dante is strong, competent and has been a loyal warrior to me for years.”

“You make it sound like I’m a prize,”

I murmur, unable to help myself. A muscle twitches in his angular jaw. “I suggest you take the time to get to know him better because your engagement will be announced soon.”

And that’s it. He doesn’t want to have a discussion or hear that I don’t love Dante Rivera. To be honest, I don’t even really like him.

But now I’m just supposed to declare vows before God and my family, fall into his bed and start bearing his children. The thought makes me ill. I can’t deal with this conversation any longer and I just want to run far away and hide.

“Yes, papà,”

I say docilely, not prepared to fight. It’s so much easier to merely agree with him and slink away. Maybe I’m just a coward, destined for an unhappy future with a man who is practically a stranger.

“Good. Now go find Dante and make an effort.”

With a slight nod, I stand up and walk out, my head hanging between my shoulders like a scolded child. Once I’m in the hallway, I close the door to my father’s office and let out a frustrated sigh. The issue is I am not a child anymore.

I’m a 24-year-old woman who has wants and needs of her own. Straightening up, I know I should find Dante because my father will ask him later if we spoke. Even though I want nothing to do with him, I head over to his private quarters.

My family owns several homes—a brownstone mansion here in downtown Chicago where we are now, a villa in Italy and another home located about two hours away in the Illinois countryside. I’ve been back with my family now for almost a year after spending the last 12 years or so studying abroad. Up until this past year, my life has consisted of boarding schools, University and an occasional visit home with my family.

I feel like I barely know my older brother Giovanni anymore. He’s almost five years older than me, but sometimes it feels like 50. We have nothing in common and he’s being groomed to take over for my father when the time is right.

Although Gio is intelligent and strong, I don’t think he has the ruthless nature our father possesses. When he steps into the role of Don…well, it will be interesting. I’m much closer to my younger sister Sofia and brother Luca.

We’re all a year apart and get along well. Sofia and I are best friends and confide in each other about everything, so she knows how much I resent this pairing with Dante. Yet, she also knows that I don’t have a choice.

Luca, the youngest, is away at school right now. He’s immersed in his studies and I probably won’t see him until Christmas. Suddenly my heart stutters.

No. Most likely, I’ll see him at my engagement party. Ugh. I feel sick and I pause outside of Dante’s private apartment, hands squeezed into fists and refusing to knock.

He’s probably not even in there, I tell myself. He’s always running off to do my father’s bidding and take care of business. Sometimes he has his nose so far up my father’s ass that I wonder how he doesn’t feel like a parasite.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I’m about to knock when I hear a scuffle from inside. A voice raises and then the sound of muffled cries penetrate the wooden door. Dio Mio.

It sounds like someone is hurt and even though I don’t care for Dante, I don’t want to see him in pain. I lift my hand and rap on the door. After a few grunts and a loud thump, the door swings inward and Dante stands there.

Breathing hard and his face red with exertion, Dante’s eyes look dark and wild. But when he realizes it’s me, I see the surprise on his face and he grins. “What a nice surprise. What’re you doing here, Rory?”

Being forced to carry out my father’s order, I think dryly. “I thought we could talk about—”

I can’t even get the word “engagement” out of my mouth.

It sticks in my throat like glue. “Uh, things,”

I finish lamely. “Of course,” he responds.

“I, ah, just have to finish attending to business.”

For the first time, I glance down and notice the blood on his knuckles and my stomach sinks. Leaning to the side, I peer around his shoulder and spot a man lying on the floor looking beaten to a pulp. To within an inch of his life.

My eyes meet his briefly before they flicker closed and I think he’s on the verge of passing out. Or worse. He looks young and his probably once-handsome face is swollen, bruised and smeared with bright red blood.

I can’t help but notice the unnatural curve of his arm and a shiver runs through me. It looks broken in several places. “Who is that?”

I whisper, trying to hide my horror. “No one,”

Dante says, voice laced in disgust. “Just an enemy of your family. But don’t worry. He won’t be for long.”

“Help me…please,” the man on the floor moans.

Then he starts coughing and hacks up blood which sprays all over the cream carpet. I feel sick and take a step closer, overcome with the need to help him. “Don’t,”

Dante warns me, lifting an arm to block me from coming inside. “But he’s in pain,”

I argue. “As he should be.”

“Dante,”

I say, trying to reason with him. “It looks like he’s paid for whatever transgression he’s committed. Why don’t you let him go?”

“He works for the O’Shea family,”

Dante spits out. “You still think I should release him? Let him go crawling back to that Irish filth?”

My heart pounds and I look down at the broken man who works for my family’s biggest enemy. The O’Shea’s hate us with every fiber of their being, but compassion fills me. I don’t even fully understand the reason for the rivalry and the bloody man looks like he’s had about all he can take.

He’s clearly at his limits and any more of a beating will likely kill him. “Please,”

I say softly. “Just let him go.”

Dante’s eyes narrow. “You’re too soft, cara. This is why Matteo will have Gio take over eventually. Although, I question whether he can handle this.”

I can hear the slight jealousy in his voice and it occurs to me that Dante would be much better at carrying out the vicious side of my father’s business than Gio. My siblings and I don’t possess that kind of bloodthirsty mentality that my father, Dante and his men in his organization do. “Now go,”

Dante says and pushes me backward, starting to close the door. “Come find me later and we’ll talk about our engagement. I’d like to start getting to know you better, cara. Much better.”

My stomach sinks in dread and then the door shuts in my face. But, I don’t leave right away. Instead, I press my ear against the door and wait, listening.

Hoping that Dante will do as I asked and show the man mercy and let him go. Instead, I hear several muffled thwacks and a long, drawn-out groan. I squeeze my eyes shut as it occurs to me that Dante is kicking the man.

Emotion wells in my chest and I bite my lip, not sure what to do. Then I hear Dante curse the man in Italian and tell him he’s going to die. I can’t take it anymore, and I pull away from the door, turn and stumble down the hall, trying to get away away from the pathetic moans which just turned into a scream that makes my blood run cold.

Sick to my stomach, I hurry back to my family’s main residence and rush up the steps to the third floor where my bedroom is located. Racing inside, I slam the door and turn the flimsy lock. There’s no way in hell I can marry a monster like that.

A man who will kill another man and enjoy it. I know Dante claimed the man worked for the O’Shea family, but does that mean he deserves death? Dropping down on my bed, I know one thing is for certain.

I don’t love Dante and I never will. I’ve been an obedient daughter and student my entire life, always following the rules and never causing trouble. Until recently, I’ve never questioned my father or his organization.

But now I am questioning it deeply. I’m also questioning myself and how I’m supposed to hand my virginity over to Dante. I’ve been a good Catholic girl and never slept with a man.

Sure, I’ve had innocent friendships with boys and a “sort of” boyfriend at one time, but nothing ever happened.

I didn’t get emotionally or physically involved. While other girls snuck out and ran off with boys from the village, I stayed in the safety of my room and read books. There was never a desire to be bad and I didn’t want to disappoint or embarrass my family.

But now I feel backed into a corner. Even though I’ve left the dorm and I’m back home, I’m feeling more restricted than ever before. A rebelliousness I’ve never experienced before is starting to burn within me and I don’t know what to do with it.

I think what it boils down to is I abhor the idea of marrying a man I don’t love and who is showing me a side that scares me. I don’t want to give myself to Dante and I certainly don’t want him as the father of my children. Flopping onto my back, I look up at the ceiling and realize I could choose to sleep with someone else before him.

I could pick a man I’m attracted to and give him one night. It would be a gift to myself. One that I think I’m due.

Especially since I’m expected to sacrifice my happiness for my father’s organization. Dante is too cruel and cold for me. The idea of him kissing and touching me—being inside me—makes my eyes burn with angry, unshed tears.

No. I refuse to let him be my first. I may have to marry the bastard, but that doesn’t mean I have to give him the gift of my virginity. Sitting up, I run a hand through my long, dark hair and decide to do something about it.

Tonight, I’m taking my life into my own hands and making a huge decision that affects me. No more waiting for orders from my father. I’m going to sneak out, find a man I’m attracted to and go to bed with him.

I think I’ve earned it. Besides, I’d much rather choose a stranger to hand my virginity over to than give it to Dante. He doesn’t deserve it.

My mind made up, I slide off my bed and go over to my vanity. Sitting down on the stool, I gaze at my reflection in the mirror. I’m going to do my makeup darker than usual, put on a nice, little, sexy outfit and take an Uber to the other side of town.

Then I’m going to see who I’m attracted to and, for the first time in my life, I’m going to seduce a man.