Screwing the Mob (The Mob Lust Series Book 1) Read online

  Screwing the Mob © 2018 by Kristen Luciani

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in this novel are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or used in any manner whatsoever, via the Internet, electronic, or print, without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For more information, or information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact Kristen Luciani at [email protected]

  Edited by: Elaine York of Allusion Graphics

  Cover Design by: Cosmic Letterz

  Formatted by: Brenda Wright, Formatting Done Wright

  ISBN 13: 978-13862797-16

  Table of Contents

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Part 2

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek – Betraying the Mob

  More Books by Kristen Luciani

  About the Author

  Nico

  “You have a lot of responsibilities now, Nico, but I know you can handle things for the family. And I’ll be right there next to you, making sure you don’t fuck anything up.”

  My chest tightens as the distinctive scent of lilies fills my lungs. Tears spring to my eyes as I force back the sneeze that’s fighting its way out. I look around at the overflowing baskets and standing arrangements that almost outnumber the mourners packed into this massive viewing room. I can barely see the taupe-colored walls, only cascading leaves and countless flowers whose pollen has declared war on my eyes, nose, and throat.

  I guess to some it might make me appear more vulnerable…human almost, but I prefer my signature, stoic façade. Nobody has access to the inside. Not anymore. Not since—

  I grit my teeth, battling the name bubbling up from a place where it’s long since been buried.

  Nobody.

  People dressed from head to toe in black are lined up for what seems like miles, spilling out the door of the viewing room, snaked around the corridor, and beyond the entrance to the funeral home.

  Grandpa Vito was loved. Feared. Hated.

  But above all? Respected.

  But those feelings didn’t happen overnight. He had earned that respect a long time ago, back when he’d lived in Hoboken with his mother and two older brothers. After his dad died, there wasn’t much money to go around, and his older brothers did the best they could to make ends meet and they’d opened a restaurant that became one of the most popular for miles. But that attracted attention from the neighborhood ‘boss’, Don Cicero, who wanted a piece of their action. Cicero was a greedy, sick bastard, and he’d send out his crew to rape the wives and daughters of any men who refused to pay him a stipend for allowing them to operate in his area. And when Cicero’s men came after Grandpa’s mother, he’d pretty much massacred the lot of them. Grandpa didn’t stop at the henchmen, though. He went after Cicero and made him pay for the first time ever.

  The men in the neighborhood pledged their devotion to Grandpa after that, and he started growing his own empire doing favors for people in exchange for their loyalty. Grandpa never wanted his family to be vulnerable to another monster like Cicero, and he knew the only way to protect them was to inspire fear and head up his own organization. He went after the scum of the Earth who tried to claim control of the neighborhood after Cicero’s death and killed plenty of motherfuckers who tried to cross him and screw over his people. Nobody fucked with Grandpa after that. People wanted to feel safe, and they knew Grandpa would protect them and their businesses. He’d always been that strong, that resolute — in his convictions, in his words, and in his values. He never strayed from them, and that’s always something he preached to me from when I was a little boy.

  “Life ain’t easy, Nico. You may get scared sometimes, you may not know the right decision to make. But let your inner strength shine through. You can do anything if you believe in yourself. And if you believe in yourself, everyone else will believe in you, too.”

  My eyes fall to his face. He lies still in the ornate casket my father picked out, one he would have hated because it was a frivolous expense. He’d have much preferred a pine box, which I told my father. But more importantly, I know he’s finally reunited with Grandma Lou. That brings me some peace. Not a hell of a lot, but some.

  He was my confidante; I was his right hand and protégé. He taught me so much through the years, put my ass in its place more often than not, and peppered me with more pearls of wisdom than I can count. A stinging sensation assaults my eyes, but I refuse to bring a hand to them. I don’t want anyone to mistake this reaction for sadness. Goddamn pollen. I should have taken a Claritin.

  I’ve allowed myself weak moments and now they’re bottled up, buried down deep. I have to be strong, even though the sadness and loss is eating me alive a little more each passing day. I still can’t believe he’s gone. He was sitting right next to me, only a couple of days earlier, playing poker and robbing my dad of every last cent he had after dessert on Christmas night. He’d pounded his chest and complained of heartburn after the massive holiday meal my mother had prepared for us. Then he laughed and pulled my eight-year-old sister Lily, the whoops baby who showed up on the scene sixteen years after me, onto his lap, claiming my mom’s cooking was worth every bit of pain.

  Then he said goodnight to all of us and left. He drove home by himself. He let himself into his house, silent except for his own breaths. He went to change for bed, preparing for a night of solitary slumber. And he dropped dead of a heart attack when he’d reached the top of the stairs...completely alone.

  That’s where I found him the next day when I came by to pick him up for his doctor’s appointment. That was the one thing he’d allowed me to do for him. He was always horrible at relaying information, so he let me tag along so another pair of ears could hear the doctors’ assessments. But drive him home when the roads were icy and the sky was pitch black? Hell no. He craved that independence. It fed his mind strength
as his body grew weaker.

  Merry fucking Christmas.

  A hand grazes my arm, and the awful scent of funeral flowers is replaced with something equally atrocious. I can’t place it, but it makes my stomach roll. I sniff once and twist away from the casket.

  Huge tits rub against my suit jacket as Adria Moreno slips in closer, her breath hot on my neck as she whispers her condolences along with some other things that I’m sure have Grandpa cheering from his perch just beyond the Pearly Gates. And thank God my parents have hold of Lily and are mingling, not paying a sliver of attention to Adria’s traveling hands in the most inappropriate setting fathomable. Jesus, the woman is relentless. A complete sex addict, no matter the circumstances. If I’d so much as said the word, I could have her bent over in the coat closet right now, pounding her ass up against the trench coats stored inside.

  “I’ve never seen you so devastated, babe.” Adria reaches a hand behind me, under my jacket, over my ass where it settles. Thankfully my back is to the wall and not facing the crowd of people milling around the room. “Do you want me to come over later? I can make you feel better.”

  Angel, her twin sister, sidles up to my other side and whispers in my other ear. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Tell us what you need. Let us help you through this.”

  Okay, Grandpa is definitely having a laugh up there. This must be his way of diffusing the situation. He was always a little unorthodox, but this is pretty damn extreme. Standing next to my dead grandfather while getting propositioned for a threesome…it’s fucking sick. I needed to chance a peek at the casket to make sure Grandpa wasn’t rolling over in his grave…in laughter, that is.

  Not that threesomes are not atypical for me. Hell, I’ve fucked three-quarters of the women in this room, often two at a time. My eyes absently scour the crowd, and I silence a groan. Why am I always searching for her? I had her, and I let her go. So why do I—?

  My throat tightens when she walks through the doors. Her blue eyes are filled with tears, her pouty pink lips quivering. But hard as I try to focus on her sun-kissed face, my eyes break free and rake over her tight body.

  She’s back.

  I’d forced her away like the asshole I am, regretting my decision every day since then. It was my way of protecting her, protecting both of us, but at what cost? And now she’s here, just like I knew she would be, and I have no fucking idea what to do about it.

  I swallow hard, fighting hard against the memory of her lips on mine, but I fail. Miserably. I can still feel her pressed against me, her eager tongue coiling with mine with such hope...hope I effectively shattered. My cock twitches, and I swallow a sigh. Just add it to the list of things I never thought I’d experience under these circumstances. The twins are still hanging all over me, and my gaze tangles with hers for the briefest of moments before she redirects the glare to the girls.

  Then I see something that makes me more limp than a strand of overcooked spaghetti. Rocco Lucchese appears from a corner of the room and slides an arm around her narrow waist, dropping a kiss onto her cheek. An icy cold sensation snakes around my heart.

  Sonofabitch. He’s back, too.

  Shaye

  I manage a smile for Rocco Lucchese. Barely. It’s not because I’m not happy to see him, though I would have preferred it being under different circumstances. It’s because of the sight which is currently shredding my insides, at least what’s left of them. My vision is blurry from the tears, but unfortunately for me, not blurry enough.

  Those whorey bitches pawing at Nico Salesi like he’s the sizzling steak to their voracious sexual appetites. Have they no respect? Grandpa Vito is lying in his casket not even a foot away from them, and they can’t even keep their disgusting hands to themselves long enough to drop to their knees and say a quick prayer for his soul? They’d rather drop to their knees for other reasons, regardless of the circumstances for why we are all here.

  “You look amazing,” Rocco murmurs, his lips curling into a smile. “How was the holiday?”

  I nod because there’s a sob inconveniently caught in my throat and if I try to utter a word, I’m afraid it will explode out of me. I adored Grandpa, yes, and I’ve cried a boatload of tears for the man who’d adopted me as his own granddaughter when my own passed away years ago. But this particular sob is reserved for the asshole directly to Grandpa’s left. And said asshole doesn’t deserve one single tear more from me, a fact my annihilated heart can attest to.

  Rocco leans in for a hug, taking my silence for sorrow. He’s right, he just doesn’t know who it’s reserved for. I try to tear my eyes away from the Moreno twins. What in the hell are they even groping for? I can’t even see their fucking hands anymore! Bile rises in my throat, and nausea crashes over me.

  Nico is not mine. He never was, a fact he’d made perfectly clear when I left for Florida months ago. Something that he’d confirmed with his non-response to my texts and emails. Even after that night…the night I’d felt certain he was going to tell me he loved me, the night I was sure he’d beg me not to leave.

  I didn’t want to go to Miami for college. It was more my parents’ choice than anything. They wanted me to get out of New Jersey and away from the dangers associated with being part of the biggest crime family on the East Coast. But I was willing to accept the risks of staying put, especially because I’d be close to Nico.

  And even though they’d never admitted to it, my parents saw right through my bullshit excuses for why I should stay in Jersey, and that made them even more determined to ship me off to Florida.

  Nico is dangerous, and they didn’t want me anywhere near him.

  But it’s hard to flip a switch and expect that feelings you’ve had for the better part of your life will just vacate your heart for good. I couldn’t do it, and I clung to every moment we’d had before I left to begin my freshman year, hoping and praying he’d tell me he loved me, too.

  He didn’t. Instead, he took me to dinner at my favorite pizzeria, brought me to his house, surprised me with rainbow cookies from Amici’s Bakery, and kissed me like I was the last woman on Earth. Then, he decimated my dreams for our future and told me he couldn’t be what I needed. What I deserved.

  God, I am such an idiot.

  I should hate him.

  But I don’t. I can’t. I don’t have a single memory of my childhood without him in it. Our fathers were closer than brothers, and just as they’d grown up together, their children did the same. Max, Nico, and I had been inseparable, even though I was six years younger than them. Every birthday party, vacation, barbecue, beach day…Nico and his family were there for all of it, until things fell apart a couple of years ago. I still don’t know the reason for the grudge, but our parents no longer talk. Hell, they barely acknowledge each other in public, and I know they are only here out of respect for Grandpa and not for Nico’s parents. It’s a far cry from the powerful alliance the Salesis and the Orianis had maintained for so many years. And even our moms, who are all too familiar with putting on a happy face for the masses, barely exchange a glance when they’re in the same room together. But regardless of the bad blood between them and Nico’s parents, my parents had always been loyal to Grandpa Vito. He just had that effect on people. He was a tough old man, but he had such a good heart. Until it gave out on him. And it kills me that all of this ugliness kept me away from him before he died. I should have made a visit, I should have called.

  I should have done a lot of things.

  He’d died alone, and I’ll carry that thought with me until my dying day.

  “Lucchese.” I look up just in time to witness the ugly grimace plastered on my older brother Max’s face. He wedges himself between us, forcing Rocco to back away. “You sure didn’t waste any time hauling ass back here. Vito isn’t even in the ground yet, for fuck’s sake.”

  Rocco shrugs. “I came to pay my respects.”

  Max lets out a snort. “Respect. That’s an interesting word choice for you. How did you not choke on that one?”
>
  “I have a lot of ideas involving choking, Oriani. Wanna see some of them in action?” Rocco clenches his fists, stepping in closer toward Max.

  “Hey, stop it!” I hiss, pushing them apart. “It’s a funeral, for Christ’s sake. Remember where you are.”

  Rocco smirks. “Not like the old man can banish me again.”

  “No, but it doesn’t mean somebody ain’t gonna plug you on his behalf.” Max glowers at Rocco over my head. “Why don’t you take a fucking walk, asshole?”

  Rocco looks around the room and catches a disapproving glare from his father Santino. He squeezes my shoulder, not bothering to make eye contact with Max again. “It was good to see you, Shaye. Let’s catch up before you go back to school next month.”

  Max stiffens next to me but doesn’t comment.

  Rocco returns to his corner, and I roll my eyes at Max. “Max, you can calm down,” I murmur, giving Rocco a little wave. “He was just saying hi. I don’t get in the middle of your issues, so stay out of mine, please.”

  “I think they can be classified as more than just ‘my issues’. And as my sister, I’d think you would want to show loyalty to your fucking family over that dickhead.”

  “You know my loyalty is with you. I just think that it’s time to let go. Bygones being bygones and all.”

  “Jesus Christ. What the hell kind of shit are they teaching you down there? Since when are you so forgiving?”

  “I’m just saying he did his time.”

  “I bet Grandpa would have a very different view.”

  “Well, it’s not up to Grandpa anymore. Nico’s dad allowed Rocco to come back. It was his call.”

  “It was a bad fucking call. The guy is a thief and a liar. He sees something he wants and then takes it without thinking about anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes darting around the room.

  “Max, I know you’re still pissed off at him, but I really think you need to focus on the future now. Forget the past. It’s over.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “That jackass crushed my gambling business. He saw all the money I was making working with deVincenzo and decided he wanted to become a bookie, too. Then he went after our clients. If it wasn’t for that bastard, I’d still be collecting shit tons of cash every week. Instead, I’m stuck being Nico’s peon.”