Possession of the Italian Mafia Boss
I thought what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
But when a mafia boss wins a date with me,
I’m bound to the enemy forever…
Chapter 1
Faye
Three months ago
The small-town life might be for some people, but it isn’t for me. I’m tired. I feel like I’m meant for more. I want to see more of the world and be someone other than the sheriff’s daughter. I’m the most protected and sheltered person in this city. All eyes are always on me. If it isn’t my dad, it’s his deputies; if they aren’t breathing down my neck, it’s the people in town. They always have to gossip. They always have to tell my dad what I’m doing.
I can’t take a step out of line. I can’t do anything questionable. I can’t do anything I would find fun. I have never snuck off with a boy, because no one wants to risk getting caught. I’ve never been drunk or done drugs—not that I would—but I never had the option to choose. I’ve never had any real friends because no one wants to walk on eggshells beside me.
So life here has been lonely, and I’m so tired of being lonely. I’ve been caged and haven’t been allowed to be myself.
“Faye!” my dad yells from the living room.
I’m also twenty-two years old and live at home because no one will rent to me; my dad says there’s no reason I should live alone. Ever since mom died, he’s been suffocating. He’s worried I’ll die like she did, but he doesn’t understand that protecting me from death doesn’t allow me to truly live.
I cram another fifty bucks into my hidden box and shove it under my bed, then mess with the sheets to make it look like I’m doing something that isn’t bad.
Planning to leave this town isn’t bad, not to me, but it would be to everyone else. It would be like I committed the ultimate sin, and we aren’t even religious.
“What are your plans for the day, Sweetheart?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.
“Well, I have the day off, so I was thinking about going to the bookstore and reading, maybe getting a coffee. Even might go to the boutique. They have new arrivals, and I want to see what they have.”
“Just you?” he questions.
I stop fluffing my pillows and hang my head. “Just me,” I say, a bit sassy. “Don’t worry, Dad. I don’t have any friends. You and your deputies made sure of that.” I sound so bitter and so unhappy. I don’t know why he doesn’t see it, or maybe he does and he doesn’t care, which hurts so much more.
“The people who don’t want to be your friends aren’t good enough for you. They are out there breaking the damn law, Faye. I’ve probably arrested half of your graduating class. They aren’t good enough for you.”
No one ever is.
“I need to go, Dad.”
“Faye, we need to talk about this.”
I march out my bedroom door and head down the hall. “Why bother?” I say, clearly upset. “It’s the same conversation we have every day. We go in circles. I’m tired.” I snag my coat off the rack and grab my purse from the chair settled in the corner. “I don’t want to talk about this, Dad. And honestly, I’m a grown woman. I have the choice of not wanting to talk to you.” I open the door and don’t slam it shut, or that will contradict my actions.
I hurry down the steps, and the cool breeze hits my face, the chill causing me to choke on a breath. I dig the keys from my purse and get in the car, squeezing the steering wheel with frustration. I have to get out of here. This place isn’t good for me.
Admitting that is hard, but I need to come up with a plan.
It’s time I live for myself instead of protecting Dad and his feelings. They matter, but the more I focus on him, the less happy I feel. He has to start making himself happy. There has to be more than me out there for him.
Besides, his deputies can’t be trusted. Not all play by the rules. There’s one, Tyler Williams, who gives me a bad feeling whenever he is around. I don’t like how he looks at me, and he’s always the one telling my dad where I am and what I’m doing.
I head to town, passing through the one stoplight it has, and make a right. The town is quaint, in the middle of nowhere, and in the distance I can see the mountains. It’s boiling hot in the summer and freezing cold at night. There isn’t really an in-between.
Pulling into the parking spot in front of the bookstore, I sit there for a minute, leaning back against the headrest. I close my eyes, thinking of my plan. I have a few thousand dollars saved in the box I’ve kept hidden under my bed. I could leave tonight while my dad is at work. I’ll take my car to the closest junkyard and steal a license plate from one of the cars there. That’s if the plate is still on the car and if Lenny, the man who owns the junkyard, isn’t paying attention to the cameras. The man is always there.
I could ditch my car and steal one.
That’s extreme. I’m the sheriff’s daughter. I can’t go stealing cars and license plates.
A knock on the window startles me, and I scream, placing a hand on my chest when I see a gun and the plain brown uniform standing outside my door. He bends down, and Tyler gives me a cheeky smile.
“You can’t sleep here, Faye.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. He’s everywhere. Sometimes, at night when I’m in bed, my mind plays tricks on me, and I see him standing near the window or in the middle of the doorway, but it has to be the stress. He can’t actually be watching me. Sleeping with one eye open is exhausting. I can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s rest.
I crack the window. “I wasn’t sleeping, Officer Williams. I was thinking. You know, moments of peace people deserve without constantly being interrupted.” I’m moody today. I’m sick and tired of being unable to think without someone questioning me.
“Okay, Faye. I’d just hate to tell your dad you’re breaking the law.” He bends down until I can see his face. “Want to go out with me sometime? Just lunch. I’ve already gotten your dad’s approval.”
“No, thanks. I’d rather break the law, honestly,” I mumble, snagging my purse. I open the door, and it hits him in the leg. Oops.
He grunts, and as I walk by, he grabs my wrist, tugging me against him. “You can keep playing the hard-to-get card, but eventually, Faye, you’ll realize what is best for you.”
I snatch my hand away and take a step back. “I already know what is best for me, and it sure as hell isn’t you.”
He snorts, placing his hands on his utility belt. “Better watch it, Faye. I’d hate to arrest you for assaulting a police officer. What would Daddy say about you then?”
I grit my teeth together and turn around, marching to the bookstore. It’s the one place where I never feel judged. The shop is owned by my old English teacher. After she retired, she opened up Page Flips Bookstore. It has all the books anyone could ever want. I usually buy a book, head to the small café she has inside, and take a seat.
“Hey, Girly. How are you?” Ms. Hendricks comes around the front desk to give me a hug.
“I’m okay,” I give her a tight smile, and she pats my cheek.
“You know I don’t like to be lied to. What’s going on?”
Ms. Hendricks has been the only one in this town who has ever supported me as a person. Not the sheriff’s daughter. She let me work for my grades in school because nothing in this world is given for free, and she believed I needed to be ready for the real world.
“Not here,” I whisper, signaling with my eyes about who is outside.
She peeks over my shoulder and hums, her pink-painted lips wrinkling as she squeezes them together. “I see,” she states. “You know, I have a brand new set of books in. Can you help unbox them?”
“Of course,” I reply, slightly confused as I follow her to the back room.
She grabs my hand when we are away from the large windows of the front of the store and behind closed doors where she keeps her inventory. “You need to get out of this town, Faye. You’re too good for it. You’re meant for more than this. You’re dwindling. You’re giving up. I see it in your eyes. Where is the girl that couldn’t wait to leave? Where did she go?”
“She’s tired,” I whisper, holding back the tears. “I’m always watched. There are eyes on me all the time. I can’t just go.”
“The hell you can’t,” she snaps, then turns around, opening a small vault with a key. She hands me two stacks of money and a car key. “At my house, under a tarp, is an old car, okay? This should be enough to get you started.”
“Ms. Hendricks, I can’t take this. I can’t—”
“—You can and you will.” She covers my hand with both of hers, squeezing it as a grandma would, right before she’s about to tell you she loves you. “You are smothered. You have been beaten down. I don’t have kids of my own. I’ve been saving up for a while, hoping one day I could help you. I thought maybe I’d have a few more years, but this is dangerous, Faye. You need to get out. I don’t trust that deputy, and your father is too blinded by his position to notice. Please, take it.”
“You did this for me? Why?” I clutch the key in my palm and hold it to my chest. It’s by far the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.
“You’ve always been like a daughter to me. I felt responsible for you after your mother died. You were always more than what this town had to offer, and your mom believed that too. Your dad loves you, Faye. He has never been the same after your mom died. He means well, but I think he is lost in grief. You have to get out of here before something bad happens. I don’t like how that deputy looks at you.”
“He wouldn’t do anything. He’s harmless.” But even as the words left my mouth, I knew I didn’t believe them. Tyler has become more territorial, thinking he can have me now that he has my dad’s permission. He’s becoming bolder with every day that passes.
She gives me a side eye of disbelief. “You do what you want with what I gave you. If I wake up to find your car under the tarp instead of the other, I won’t bat an eye. Do what’s best for you, but stop being afraid to do it, or fear is always going to hold you back and it’s going to make you do things you don’t want to do.”
I nod, understanding completely. She’s right. She’s always been right.
“I’m so scared. I don’t want my dad to hate me.” Tears burn my eyes, and I take a deep breath. I can’t look like I’ve been crying, or Tyler will become suspicious of Ms. Hendricks. I’ll be devastated if anything happens to her. She’s the closest thing I have to a friend in this town.
“I won’t lie to you. He’ll be terrified, and he’ll question everyone in this town, including me. He’ll tear down every building for you, but one day he will understand; and if he doesn’t, Faye, that is his problem. It isn’t yours. Your life is yours. No one else’s.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
What’s sad is that it’s not like anyone abuses me. I’m not being physically harmed, but with the mental and emotional toll this town takes on me, I can’t do it anymore. I want to experience happiness, something I haven’t felt since my mother died.
“Now, grab a box and help me take it out there so it looks like we are doing something.”
I shove the money in my purse and zip it up so no one can see the evidence, then pick up a box as she said to. When we walk out, I don’t see Tyler outside anymore, which means he probably got a call. I go on about my day as if everything is normal.
I read. I get a coffee. I take my time; then I head home just as my dad is opening the door to his cruiser.
I check the clock on the dash and see it’s already six in the evening. He won’t be home until six tomorrow morning, which gives me plenty of time to get away. Climbing out of the car, Dad and I share a look. Knowing that I’m leaving, something in me breaks.
Heading to him, I wrap my arms around him and give him a hug. “I love you,” I tell him, hoping he doesn’t hate me forever.
“I love you too. Things will get better. I promise.”
I lean away and nod, knowing the only way it will get better is if I make it better myself.
He climbs in the driver’s seat of his cruiser, and I wave, watching him pull out of the driveway before I head inside. I look around the living room, and a bit of my heart hurts. The blue couch against the wall has been there for years. The left cushion has an indentation of where dad sits and has his morning and evening coffee. His glasses are on the end table, along with a few magazines he likes to read.
My mom’s picture hangs on the wall, something my dad touches every time he walks out the door. I’ll miss these things, but they aren’t enough to keep me here.
Running to my bedroom, I grab a bag and load it with clothes and everything else I need, including the money I’ve saved over the years that I’ve kept stashed under my bed.
I check the time and notice the sun has set, then turn off my phone, leaving it on my bed so he can’t track me. I leave.
Placing my bags in the trunk, I glance around to make sure I’m in the clear, and I head to Ms. Hendricks’s house. It’s a five-minute drive from mine. All the lights are off, but her yellow door is still shining in the night.
That’s when I see the tarp. It’s under the carport. I run to it, snagging the blue tarp away from the beat-up, rusted hunk of junk she got me.
I love it.
It starts with no issue, and I put it in reverse until it’s out of the driveway, then switch it with mine. After everything is removed and placed in my new vehicle, I cover my old car with the tarp.
And I leave.
Just like that.
I follow the black pavement, leaving everything I know behind until I have to stop for gas.
When I do, Las Vegas is my new home.
Chapter 2
Demonte
Present day
Throwing punches doesn’t get you respect; it gets you laughed at in my line of work. It’s why I never answer violence with my fists but with other actions.
Actions that leave destruction and chaos. Strife and pain. Blood and fear.
I don’t fight to play fair. I fight to win, to own, and to claim.
Vegas belongs to me, and anyone who threatens what belongs to me dies.
It’s as simple as that.
Becoming the man I am hasn’t been easy. This throne was not given to me. It was not prepared to be the leader of the Ballerini mafia, the most feared in the city. My father died when I was eighteen, leaving my baby brother and me alone. In his will, he said I was to take over his position, and many were not happy about his choice.
I was challenged every day. People would try to kill me, threaten me, and attack me when I was at my weakest. We lost a lot of product and money during the time I was transitioning to be the leader my father expected me to be. On top of that, I had to take care of my brother. I’m fifteen years older than he is, so when our parents died, he was only three. I don’t think he even knew how to grieve because he was so young, but there was no time to feel emotions when people wanted us dead every day.
I wasn’t a picture-perfect father figure for Danilo. This life isn’t full of rainbows. He didn’t get toys for his birthday. He learned to shoot a gun. He learned defense skills. He learned how to manipulate the enemy to get what he wanted.
That is what will get him ahead in life. Not toys. Not birthday parties. Not believing in the damn tooth fairy or f**cking Santa Clause. I had to be harsh with Danilo because if I knew that this life would be hard for me, it was going to be even harder for him.
I had to be a boss, a brother, and a father to Danilo. The last twenty years have been exhausting, but now Danilo is a grown man and my right hand. He’s ruthless, and when I’m dead, he’ll make the perfect leader for the men and women in our organization.
The Ballerinis are the first to strike and the last to stand.
I had to be harsh, cruel, and heartless to build this mafia. I had to sacrifice everything to get to where I am.
Nothing gets by me. I have eyes all over the city, and they are happy to squeal if it means they’re in my good graces. Money and power are attached to my name, and when you have that backing you, what else do you need?
Now, for instance, I would like to be upstairs, watching my casino make money and witnessing people throwing away all their hard-earned cash, but business doesn’t always mean pleasure.
I cross my legs and light a cigar, puffing the smoke in our captive’s face as he hangs there with his arms above his head. My men have done a number on him. He has cuts all over his body, and blood drips down his skin. His right eye is swollen shut, and he cries.
I sigh, annoyed. Don’t make me an enemy, or tears wouldn’t be necessary.