Savage Heir {Dark Mafia Romance + Thriller}

Chapter 44

My unfettered view of the Pacific Ocean washing a pristine Santa Barbara shore wasn't doing a thing to calm my simmering rage. For the past three hours, I'd been a human pincushion for Luigi's ancient tailor while he fit me for a penguin suit for my involuntary wedding.

The only thing keeping me from grabbing a chair and clubbing the fat-fingered moron was my view of the coast. Well, that and the four massive bodyguard-slash-babysitters carrying automatic rifles that Mia assigned to keep me in line when she wasn't looking.

I could hear Christian on the other side of the living room doors. He was pacing the foyer of Luigi's palatial Montecito home waiting for Lucia and her mother to arrive in a limousine. Ma would likely be right behind them in a black town car to keep to the insane schedule Mia had for our nuptials.

Christ, we landed the night before and already I'd spent the morning commenting on the seating chart and tasting bland cake samples.

In forty-eight hours, my family was going to be put through the dog and pony show of a lavish west coast society wedding, with me as the starting act. The press had been alerted and there were rumors that Luigi's neighbor, Oprah Winfrey, might even make an appearance.

From there, my family would be relegated to whatever accommodations they could afford after Luigi gutted our empire. Everyone we employed would either be let go or killed. Our assets would be absorbed or liquidated.

I was to start working for Luigi immediately and relocate to San Francisco to live with my new wife, Mia. We'd only be allowed to see my family if-and-when Luigi deemed it appropriate, or if Mia wanted to see Lucia.

Thankfully, Luigi was forced to let Christian keep his house in Los Angeles with Lucia. It was so his daughter didn't have to watch her best friend live in the abject poverty he was forcing on the rest of our family.

Finally, I was forbidden from ever contacting Grace or anyone in her family ever again. Not that she'd speak to me if I tried or that I'd ever find her.

Knowing that she was somewhere in the world without me protecting her, was eating me alive. It felt like a betrayal of our fate.

I was given a new phone and a new number after the 'stunt' I'd pulled on the flight to Santa Barbara. Mia wanted to control my every movement while putting up the front that we were the perfect mafioso couple. If I stepped out of line, someone I loved could get hurt or die.

Everything was fucked, and for the first time in my life, there was fuck-all I could do about it.

"Oh my God, Alfonso!" Mia's shrill voice punctured my grim thoughts. "What is wrong with you? Those cuffs look ridiculous! He doesn't need highwaters!"

"Scusi, singnora," Alfonso muttered, hunching to start my trousers over. "Ricominceró da capo."

"That's Canali, you butcher!" She continued berating the consummate professional as he cowered behind my legs. "Please don't make me worry about tacky tailoring at my wedding again or you're fired! For good!"

"Mia," I growled low and foreboding regardless of the figurative gun she had to my balls. "The man doesn't need to start over. It's fine. What do you want?"

"You're so tense, baby," Mia's stilettos clicked as she circled the footstool where I stood. Her bony hand grasped my inner thigh, fucking with Alfonso's hard work and digging a series of pins into my flesh. She grinned at my sharp inhale. "Maybe we ought to book a couples massage when I get back. Help ease some of those pre-wedding night jitters."

"Fu-uck that," I hissed and ground my teeth when she twisted her grip to drag the pins under my skin.

To keep myself from jumping off the footstool and attacking a woman like the savage I am, I stared into the dead eyes of a white marble bust.