RUTHLESS KING

17 I STOP BREATHING

Luca
Blinding fury races through my veins as my eyes lock on the asshole cuffed
to the chair. The man who dared touch what is mine. My entire body
trembles with rage, the feeling so intense, so out of control, I force a drag of
air into my lungs before I proceed. Control. My life, both business and
personal, is all about control. A few days with Stella and I’m spiraling.
When Mario texted me about the robber, I’d raced right out of my
meeting with the city commissioner. The meeting I’d been waiting for all
month. Getting in his good graces was integral to my shipping operations,
both legitimate and not.
Tony and Mickey loom in the shadows, guns cocked and ready. It’s been
years since I’ve involved myself in this aspect of the business. But today,
this is personal. I would make this motherfucker pay for pointing a gun at
Stella, the knot on her head, for that bruise on her cheek. He’d drawn blood
and broken skin, and now I’d break him.
I shrug out of my jacket, slowly, purposefully and toss it on a chair. I
stalk across the room, dark gaze fixed on the trembling idiot. He’s gagged but not blindfolded. I want him to see exactly what’s coming. To know the
fear intimately, until it strangles, suffocating.
I stop right in front of him, my legs nearly hitting his knees, and roll up
my sleeves. Deliberately. Methodically. His eyes bulge and sweat beads off
his brow. He mumbles something, but I ignore him, carefully folding my
sleeves and tucking in my favorite cufflinks with the gilded crowns.
Then I pull my arm back and release. My fist smashes into his cheek,
the crack of bone against bone reverberating across the silent space. Dio,
that felt good, and I am just getting started. “That was for her cheek.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the gold-plated brass knuckles.
They were custom-made in the shape of a crown, each circle adorned with a
pointy tip. The man’s trembling becomes more violent as I slip it over my
fingers.
I hit him again. Anger pours out of me, much like the blood from his
mouth. “That was for the bump on her head.”
He wiggles and squirms, blood dribbling from his chin and perspiration
pouring down his forehead, into his eyes. He mumbles again, and a wicked
grin slants my lips. “I’m sorry I’m having a hard time understanding you.” I
pivot to Tony. “Knife, please.”
The bastardo’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “No, no!” he mutters.
Tony tosses me the blade which I catch by the hilt with the honed
precision of a ninja. I spin it around in my hand, reveling in the familiarity
of the worn wood. When I was a young, little thug, I used to carry this thing
with me everywhere. I thought I was tough shit. Me and Vinny ….
The dark thoughts threaten to pull me under, but I focus my rage on the
man before me. The stronzo who hurt her. I inch closer, glimmering blade
pointed at the guy’s face. He tilts his head back, but he’s got nowhere to go.
He’s trapped.
I slice the blade across the gag, and his scream echoes through the dim
chamber. I barely nicked him. Coward. Most men who attack women are. They’re the scum of the earth in my book.
“What’s your name, piece of shit?” I snarl.
Tony opens his mouth, but I wave him off. I want this man to talk to me
and only me.
“Sean,” he chokes out.
“You got a last name, Sean?”
“O’Malley.”
Ugh, fucking Irish. As if the Chinese Triad wasn’t enough to deal with,
I had to worry about the rising Irish mob. “Do you know why you’re here?”
He ticks his head at Tony and Mickey. “They said I stole from you, but I
didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t fucking know.”
“Are you new in town?”
His head whips back and forth.
“Then how the fuck did you not recognize my guy with my girl?”
“I—I didn’t know … I’m sorry….”
I jerk my arm back and release again, the satisfying crunch of bones
breaking satiating the rage. “I’m going to do you a favor Sean O’Malley.
I’m going to let you live, but you’re going to do one for me in return, got
it?”
His head dips, one eye nearly swollen shut already. “Anything you
want.”
“You’re going to spread the word that Stella Esposito McKenzie is
mine. Anyone talks to her, comes near her, anyone fucking lays a finger on
her, and I’ll gut them from spine to sternum. You got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
“Signor Valentino,” I hiss.
“I got it, Signor Valentino.”
I tug a handkerchief from my jacket pocket and wipe my hands, then
remove the brass knuckles and tuck them into my pocket. My fingers curl around the knife. I spin around and strike, dragging the blade across his
forehead until I hit bone.
He lets out a wail, muttering curses.
“And that’s for pulling a gun and scaring her. A permanent reminder for
all those to see what happens to anyone who fucks with what’s mine.” I spit
on the scum’s shoes and march out.
I should be at the office tonight. I’d spent all day tracking down that asshole
with Tony and now I should be working with Clara to move things around
my calendar to reschedule the meeting with the city commissioner. If we
don’t get the rights to the docks’ redevelopment project, we’re going to lose
out big. Instead, I’m lingering outside Stella’s room like a minchione.
Peering through the crack in the door, my eyes settle on her figure splayed
out on the bed. She’s still in my shirt, despite the fact that Mickey had
dropped off a suitcase of her old clothing.
My ribcage tightens, the space suddenly too small for my constricting
lungs. I’d watched her all last night on the monitor. Her sleep had been
plagued by nightmares brought on by that asshole. And I’d let it happen
under my watch.
A wave of guilt pummels through me. Stella had already suffered so
much; she didn’t deserve any of this. Bringing her into my life was only
making things worse. Fuck. I should just let her go.
My heart riots at the idea.
What is it about this woman that has me so fucking rattled? My eyes
close, and my mind drifts to the past. A smiling little girl with freckles and
a contagious laugh fills my vision. “You again, Luca?” A fiery, tiny thing glares up at me. She’s in a My Little
Pony bathing suit, splashing around the busted fire hydrant.
“Yes, me again. You think you’re going to get rid of me that easily? I’m
your brother’s new best friend.” I hitch a thumb at Vinny. He’s sitting on the
front steps of the barber shop, a black and white ball between his feet.
“Just ignore her, or she’ll follow us everywhere for the rest of the day.”
He stands and kicks the ball around.
“I will not,” she hisses. “I don’t care what you guys are doing anyway.”
“Good.” Vinny pats her on the head, and she shoots him a scowl. “Stay
here where Mrs. D. can see you, piccola. We don’t need you getting into any
trouble, Stellina.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not a baby anymore.”
“You’ll always be my little Stellina.”
She plants her hands on her hips and mutters what I swear is a curse in
Italian. “Where are you guys going anyway?”
Vinny doesn’t answer, just keeps walking down Mulberry Street. So I
turn back and shout over my shoulder, “We’re just going to play some
football, kid. We’ll be back soon.”
“Football? I thought it was soccer.”
“Ah, vero. That’s right, I always forget it’s called soccer here in
America.” I quicken to a jog to catch up to Vinny, and his sister trails
behind. I stop abruptly and spin around. “Hey, kid, your brother said to
stay put.”
“He’s not the boss of me.”
A laugh tumbles out despite my best efforts. “Fine but stick close. I
don’t want to lose you.” Vinny puts on a good façade pretending not to care
about his little sister, but I know she means the world to him. The vivid memories fade, and I draw in a breath to ease the tension in my
chest.
“Luca ….” A quiet murmur in that sweet voice brings it all flooding
back. I slip my head through the opening. “Luca,” she cries out, “where are
you?”
My feet propel me forward before I can stop myself. The room is dim,
blackout curtains drenching the room in darkness. I can just make out her
form as my pupils adjust to the obscurity. Her eyes are still closed, but my
name is on her lips.
“No, please, don’t!”
As my eyes grow accustomed to the lack of light, they focus on the welt
on her head and the scrape across her cheek. Another round of anger floods
in as tears roll down her cheeks. My fingers clench into tight fists. She’s
having another nightmare. Is it from the past or that bastardo yesterday?
She whimpers, and it doesn’t matter which; I ease myself onto the bed
beside her.
A part of me knows this is about more than just the mugging the other
day. She probably went through hell the past ten years. While I did nothing.
“Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe,” I whisper. “No one will ever hurt you again.”
She rolls toward me, lids still sealed. My arms ache to wrap around her,
to take away the pain I caused. I should’ve sent more guys with her. I know
what the streets are like these days, even in broad daylight. More than that, I
should have been there for her all these years.
“Luca, help….”
My heart staggers on a beat, and my body moves without my
permission. My arms lace around her soft form and tug her into my chest.
She curls into me, her soft curves fitting perfectly against my hard planes.
She exhales softly and weaves her arm around my waist. I freeze.
Then, I stop breathing.