Blood & Marriage (Dark Mafia Romance)

  Blood & Marriage

  by Miss Merikan

  Acerbi & Villani ltd

  Blood & Marriage

  Miss Merikan

  --- He was not Prince Charming. He was the dragon to consume me.---

  As the daughter of a mafia boss, I knew that keeping my head down meant staying alive.

  So when my father arranged my marriage to a Sicilian mafioso, I smiled and nodded, hoping for a kind man.

  But then my future husband’s cousin, Santo Villani, appears to pick me up for the wedding, and my life turns upside down, shattered by a kiss that shouldn’t have happened.

  Arrogant, cocky, and yet irresistibly charming, he’s exactly the kind of man I shouldn’t be reaching out for. A dangerous mafioso who isn’t afraid to taste forbidden fruit.

  I am torn between duty and passion, but my wedding is set in stone, so no matter which one of them wins, I will fall on their battlefield.

  POSSIBLE SPOILERS:

  Themes: mafia, organized crime, marriage, forbidden love, danger

  Genre: Dark, twisted romance / crime thriller

  Erotic content: Explicit scenes

  Length: ~61,000 words (STANDALONE novel, spin-off from the Guns n' Boys series by K.A. Merikan)

  WARNING: Adult content. Contains violence, distressing scenes, abuse, offensive language, and morally ambiguous protagonists.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living, dead, or undead, events, places or names is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transferred in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the publisher. Uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without a permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

  Text copyright © 2016 Miss Merikan

  All Rights Reserved

  http://missmerikan.com

  Editing by Sue Laybourn

  Cover design by

  Natasha Snow

  http://natashasnow.com

  Table of contents

  Foreword

  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

  Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  About the author

  Foreword

  "Blood & Marriage" is a standalone novel, but it is a spin-off from our "Guns n' Boys" series written under the K.A. Merikan pen name. These two are intertwined and "Blood & Marriage" takes place during the first three books of "Guns n' Boys", so there is no way to avoid spoilers for one or the other, though if you're considering reading "Guns n' Boys", "Blood & Marriage" should be read after book 3 of that series.

  On the other hand, maybe reading "Blood & Marriage" first will whet your appetite for more of the series despite knowing a few twists and turns.

  Whichever way you choose to read, we hope you enjoy the book!

  Chapter 1

  I’ve always had a clear picture of what my wedding would be like. I’d have the most fabulous dress, straight from the catwalk and designed especially for me by my by-then-friend Karl Lagerfeld. My groom would be a handsome man whom I’d met by chance in the most romantic of circumstances. He’d be handsome, intelligent, and kind, a prince without a crown, and my parents would approve. I imagined my father walking me down the aisle to this one man who I knew would make me happy.

  I certainly didn’t expect things to go so differently for me in real life.

  “Stop biting your nails.” Mona slapped my hand.

  I took a deep breath and stroked the creases of my dress. I had considered wearing something a bit more daring, perhaps my recent favorite—a blue lipstick, but the last thing I wanted to do was make a bad impression on my future husband. After all, I was to meet him today for the first time.

  So I dressed more conventionally, in a white Chanel dress with a heart-shaped neckline and a flowery print the color of traditional blue porcelain. The shades went well with my blonde hair, which I carefully curled so not a strand was out of place. Pale-blue shoes to go with the outfit, the heel not too high, not too small. Everything needed to be just right so that I could make my father proud.

  I put homemade lemonade on the garden table on the terrace. I made sure the gardeners were not working nearby, to not make things even more awkward when my future husband arrived at our Calabrian home. The weather was lovely, with the sun still warm, but not hot enough for me to sweat. It would have been perfect if I didn’t feel so lost.

  “I can’t believe Dad wouldn’t let you see a photo of him. That’s so stupid.” Mona rolled her eyes and popped a bubble gum balloon. She wasn’t helping as much as a sister should in this kind of situation.

  “You know Dad’s ‘no’ is a ‘no’, so what’s the point in dwelling on it?” I said, even though I had to fight the itch to start nibbling on my nails again. Truth was, I also thought Father’s attitude was not only ‘stupid’, but also inconsiderate. If he were to marry a woman he’d never met before, he surely would have not only requested a picture, but even shared it with his friends, if she was attractive.

  Wasn’t the fact that I was going along with an arranged marriage enough? Couldn’t I see his photo and prepare myself? At least, I knew that he wasn’t old, so there was that. I’d barely had my eighteenth birthday in June, so marrying a man my father’s age or older would have been a nightmare. Maybe that was it though? Maybe my future husband was ugly, with scars on his face or some kind of deformity? Those things happened to men who lived dangerous lives outside of the law.

  But Father needed to make an alliance with Sicily’s Villani family, and marriages had not become less effective as a guarantee of cooperation with the end of the nineteenth century.

  I wanted to be a good daughter. Surely, he would not push me into the arms of someone unkind. It was easy for Mona to be so dismissive of all this. The future of Father’s organization did not rest on her shoulders. As his younger daughter, she could for the most part do as she pleased, and no one took an issue as long as she stayed within the bounds of propriety.

  “Point is,” Mona wouldn’t let it go, “that you should know what you’re getting into. If it was me, I’d be out of here in a second. No one’s pushing me into marriage with some stranger.”

  Easy for her to say. She was only sixteen, so despite her womanly figure and breasts bigger than mine already, father wouldn’t be pushing her into marriage any time soon. “I…I don’t know. Maybe it’s for the better?” And a part of me actually believed that. It would have been easy to call our father a heartless brute, but the truth was much more complicated than that. He did have a tender spot for both me and Mona, as he did for my brother. So if he thought this man who was to become my husband, Seth Villani, was an appropriate match, I would trust him.

  “Is it though?” asked Mona, and the smoky makeup around her eyes somehow made her seem more authoritative than usual. “You couldn’t even choose your own wedding dress.”

  It was like a shard of glass stabbing straight into my heart. Father insisted I’d wear the dress my late mother had worn for her wedding, and while I agreed that its shape, slightly flared from the hips down and fitted at the top, would complement my figure, I hated everything else about it.

  Well, it was a pretty dress, and it had looked lovely on my mother, but wearing it felt like dressing up as someone
else. It was too proper, too much like a gown for a Disney princess, too...well, ivory. If I agreed to marry the man my father wanted, couldn’t I at least feel like myself at my own wedding? I had my sights set on a particular design. Modern, fresh, and nothing like the one Father wanted me to wear.

  “About that…”

  Mona cocked an eyebrow at my, no doubt suspicious, smile.

  “I was thinking if you could do me a favor.”

  Mona bit back a smile. “Sorry, you can’t hire me to assassinate your husband.”

  I slapped her arm. “That’s not it. There’s a different dress I want to wear. I’ve tried it on, I even got it fitted, and paid the advance from my savings, and by the day of the wedding, I will have it paid in full. Father doesn’t know, but he can’t stop me if I wear it on the day. I just…need you to pick it up for me and bring it to Sicily with you.” My heart started pounding at the memory of how I’d looked in my chosen dress. It was the one thing I didn’t want to compromise on.

  Mona’s eyebrows wiggled in appreciation, and she pulled me closer, whispering into my ear as if we were two spies sharing state secrets. “Well, well, well, so Daddy’s girl has her own mind after all.”

  “Very funny,” I said but was happy to see she was on board. Just knowing that I would be allowed this little bit of rebellion made me relax. I could do this. As long as the man I was to marry was kind, everything would be all right. I’ve seen what marriages of passion led to, and I was content with not taking part in any of that.

  “Just give me the details later, and I’ll pick it up for you,” Mona said with a smile. My stomach twisted in knots as soon as I heard steps over gravel far away.

  “Do you think it’s him?” I whispered in panic and clutched at Mona’s wrist, but she was already getting up.

  “Could be father,” Mona said, but she stepped back toward the open terrace doors. “Good luck,” she mouthed before disappearing.

  Each footstep resonated in my skull, which for once was completely devoid of anything but a bundle of frantic thoughts. No amount of shadow from the trees and palms could cool me down.

  I nervously played with the tiny charms on my favorite silver bracelet, battling the steady sound of shoes rubbing against gravel. My hand drifted to the table, picking up a half-filled glass of lemonade just in time for him to see how casual and unconcerned I was with the whole situation. I couldn’t have him think of me as some nervous filly, ready to jump back to the stable at the mere sight of him.

  But, when he emerged from behind the house, so tall and walking so straight toward me, something inside me went soft, and the glass slipped through my fingers, breaking at my feet into a thousand pieces.

  Oh, God, there was a spray of lemonade on my pale blue shoes.

  I’d probably smell of lemons and sugar now.

  He’d know right away how handsome I found him.

  And he saw it. He definitely saw me dropping the glass, because his dark eyebrows rose slightly.

  This was exactly why I’d requested to see a photo of him. So I could prepare myself. But could I ever be prepared that the man I was to marry was so young and breathtaking?

  Dressed in black, he walked toward me slowly, as if I really was a doe, too skittish to handle a stranger’s approach. The closer he was, the faster my heart pounded and I took in every detail of his physique.

  His longish hair was slicked back, accentuating the sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. An elegant beast in a suit jacket and a turtleneck, his eyes were focused on me only, and all at once, I couldn’t breathe anymore. The dress too tight, the shoes uncomfortable, the thin blazer unnecessary with the way my whole body was aflame.

  He stood a step away from me, that inch into my personal space so I could smell his cologne. His complexion was olive-tinted. His dark eyelids made his bright green eyes seem cold in comparison to the warm hue of his skin.

  “S-seth Villani I presume?” I forced a smile, patting myself on the back for only stumbling on his first name. I clasped my hands together, urging them not to tremble.

  He glanced down all the way to my shoes and back in a way that made me want to take a cold shower.

  Seth nodded with a hint of a smile. “Lucrezia Bruni.” His warm baritone thundered through my body. This was the voice I would be hearing every day for the rest of my life.

  I stared at him, maybe a bit too long, and finally reached out my hand to shake his. “It is...nice to meet you. Would you like some lemonade?” I asked, already so hot on my face I knew I looked silly. How did movie heroines manage this whole flirting thing? How did they keep calm when faced with a man so handsome? It had to be my lack of experience. I’d only had one boyfriend, and that had been too innocent to compare with meeting my future husband.

  “No. I’ve waited too long for this meeting to spend time drinking lemonade.”

  His eyes were fixed on me in a way that had my palms sweating. I uttered a laugh so silly any normal man would have found an excuse to disappear, but not him.

  Would he propose now? Did he have a ring in his pocket? What kind of ring would it be? A family heirloom—perhaps his grandmother’s—a simple, fashionable design, or maybe something flashy and expensive, yet ugly? I would not be Instagramming an ugly one.

  He took my hand, gently tracing the inside of my palm with his thumb, and somehow that simple touch rushed throughout my whole body, awakening a tingling sensation that certainly shouldn’t be there in the presence of a man I didn’t even know. Then again, maybe I should be happy for it, if we were to be married soon? Everyone always said that ‘the spark’ was important.

  “Then what...what would you like to do?” I asked, unable to pull anything wittier out of the chaos that was my brain. The sunlight playing in his eyes kept distracting me.

  He leaned down to me, locking our gazes, and I couldn’t help but think that I was the luckiest girl in the world. I would become his wife, and by the way he touched me, I knew that he felt the same spark I had.

  When his lips met mine, it was enough of an answer for me. No matter how forward it was for him to kiss me this way, or how intimidating his height was compared to my petite frame, I didn’t back away, because there was nothing wrong with kissing your fiancé-to-be.

  When he forced my mouth open, it was like being thrown into a bed of the softest down. For a moment it felt as if I was falling down, but his hand rested on the small of my back and kept me safe. I put my arms around his neck, shuddering when my nipples brushed against him, and I could sense the friction even through our clothes, completely immersed in the havoc the kiss was wreaking in my body.

  “I-- uh,” I choked out when our lips parted for a moment, but he didn’t step back.

  A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, making him look like the most handsome of demons. “May I have another one?” he whispered, but his lips were already seeking mine without giving me time to answer. My body told him all about the invitation he was being given.

  I gasped and shuddered when the tip of his tongue trailed along my top lip. His hand moved just as languidly up the front of my dress, leaving a trail of fire all the way to my breast as he squeezed it gently.

  The sensation became so intense I squeezed my thighs, arching against him, but he grabbed my jaw and pulled me away slightly.

  With one hand still on my breast, he let out a quiet grunt. “Now open your mouth. I want to see all your teeth so I know what I’m getting.”

  For a moment I wasn’t sure what he said, but when truth sank in, my arousal was washed off by what felt like a bucket of ice cubes and cold water. I pushed him away, with a tightness growing in my throat.

  I was to be his wife. How could he humiliate me this way?

  He took a step back, but a cruel smile was still on his lips. The way his gaze licked me felt as if he were pulling up my skirt.

  “Oh? Excuse me. I thought you were on sale,” he said, and I couldn’t even scream out in fury, because I could hear steps heading our w
ay.

  Oh, no. I could not be with a man like that, absolutely not. Flushing so deeply he’d surely see how ashamed I was, I took a step back, only to hear a piece of glass creak under my heel. My eyes burned, and it was only the sight of my father that kept me from running into the house, away from this horrible man.

  “There you are, girl. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Father’s lips widened with a smile. For a second I was afraid he would hug me, and I could not bear anyone touching me right now, but he just stood between us, his muscular body feeling like a wall of safety despite me knowing what his thick hands were capable of. “Seth couldn’t make it. He’s away on business in Berlin. But his cousin Santo will escort you, and you will meet Seth in Sicily. But he’s probably already told you that.” Father patted…Santo’s back, leaving me so utterly terrified I couldn’t help my eyes going wide.

  Santo nodded, then his cool green eyes met mine, and I could read absolutely no remorse in them. I couldn’t believe what I just found out. Despite the relief that this...ugly human being was not my husband-to-be after all, I couldn’t help the dreadful feeling of having been used. What kind of man would do that to his cousin’s fiancée?

  “I’m happy to meet you, sir,” said Santo, squeezing Father’s hand with all the respect a high-ranking mafia man was due. And there I was, a show doll to be played with.

  Santo was wrong. I was not a cow for sale. I chose to go along with my father’s wishes because I trusted he chose a good match for me, that I would help in establishing a permanent truce between our two families, and that in that union I would be cherished, not used.

  If Santo thought he’d get as much as a glance from me, he had another thing coming.