His Rebel: Mafia Made Book 5 Read online

  “Well, what are your plans?” Cody’s question causes me to return my attention to him.

  “Kara and I are going on another charter together.”

  “Aren’t you going to drink?” He nods his head to the glass. “It’s only sparkling water on the rocks, no alcohol.”

  “Um…” I look at the glass and feel those eyes again. I look over to where the stranger is standing. I can’t focus on him because I’m not willing to admit he’s a man I’d give myself to. He calls to a part of me I’ve never felt before. My body is hot. My breasts tingle behind the dress as my nipples press into the fabric. My thong is damp from desire I’ve never before felt. All of these reactions are new to me.

  “Thanks for the drink.” Kara grabs the glass Cody is holding out to me. I was too busy watching tall, dark, and deadly that I didn’t notice him pick it up. I watch as she shoots it back. “Wow, pure vodka. Yummy.” My eyes flash to Cody, who just lied to me. He smirks, tipping his head to the side, as if he’s acting cute and it’s no big deal he lied and was trying to get me drunk. The waitress walks by, and I ask for a bottle of water. My eyes move back across the room and I find the stranger is no longer standing there.

  “Drink for the lady.” Another waitress walks up with a glass bottle of expensive water. I look at it and then up at her, confused. I’ve noticed they don’t serve their bottled water in glass bottles but plastic ones.

  “I didn’t order that.” I can’t spend any more money as I have to worry about lodging and food for the next week while I explore Venice.

  “The gentleman did.” She nods over her shoulder, and I see the stranger has moved closer to where we are seated. He’s seated in a group of sofas off to the side from ours, about ten feet away. The waitress hands me the bottle, and I notice the seal hasn’t been cracked. I twist off the top and take a deep pull as I watch him. From this short distance, I see his eyes flare wide. I pull the bottle away from my lips and can’t help myself when I lick the moisture from them then bite my bottom lip. He stands from his seat; his eyes bore into me. I want to see what he’s going to do. I smile at him and nod my thanks as I recap the bottle, protecting it from anyone trying to slip something into it.

  “I don’t feel so good,” Kara says and stumbles. I stand immediately and grab for her. She falls into me, and I hold the water bottle in my other hand. “Can we go?” She went from having fun to messed up real fast. I look at the glass she just drank, but I don’t think drugs work that fast.

  “Come on.” I move with her toward the exit. Before we step outside, I turn back and don’t see the man anymore. Bloody hell, I missed my chance at finding out his name or if he is more handsome up close. He probably is more so, but I’ll never know and that’s for the best.

  “I’ll help you.” Cody offers to take her, and I see the concern in his eyes. She collapses as he lifts her into his arms. We make our way back to the yacht with the others following behind us.

  Dante

  The music pulses through the club. The lights are bright with smokey halos around them. I hate being here, but after the funeral today, I told my father I would come here and check it out. He’s still pushing me to come back to the family business and help, especially now that Narcissa is dead. The woman who drove a wedge between my father and me is gone from this earth, but I still can’t find my sister. Some friends of mine are looking into where Narcissa has been all these years since she’s been missing. How all of a sudden we find out she is now dead. Maybe there is a letter telling us who she sold Luna to and why. The day Luna disappeared, her mother did too. We found out from a neighbor that some men came and took Luna away before Narcissa left.

  My thoughts are interrupted when a group across the club catches my eye. Four men and three women are all partying together. But there’s one who intrigues me. I watch and can’t take my eyes off of her as she moves away from the dance floor. One of the guys she’s with approaches her from the bar with a glass. Vodka, I watched him order. She takes it but doesn’t take a sip. He touches her back and I find myself standing up. I’m going to rip his hand from his body for touching her. I’ve never felt this pull before, but I need to find out more about this petite woman. Her purple hair flashes in the light. She’s not dressed up like she’s clubbing but more like she should be at dinner on my arm. Her hair hangs straight down her back, but as she’s been sweating, I can see curls starting to form. The pair make their way back to the seating area, and I watch as she sits in a chair instead of on the sofa next to the young arsehole. She sets the glass on the table in front of her and finally turns and looks at me. From across the room, I can feel the electricity that brews between us. A feeling of warmth I’ve never felt before washes across my body. For the first time in a long time, I can’t control my body’s urges, and my cock lengthens behind the fly of my trousers.

  She doesn’t shy away from my intense gaze. Her face is smooth and pale. Her lips full. The top a perfect cupid’s bow, the bottom puffy and begging for me to bite it. Her wide-set eyes make her look like a doll. My doll. She’s slender with smaller breasts that I can tell are unrestrained behind her dress, and I want to take her across my knee for letting others see them move around the way they did as she danced.

  Another woman walks up and takes her glass, drinking it down in a gulp. I watch as my little doll pierces the other man with her eyes. She’s upset about something. I call over one of the VIP servers and order a Pellegrino to be delivered to the girl. I move to be closer to her. I can’t stop the pull she has on my body. Was this what Domino and Natale were talking about when they found their girls? Santi said he couldn’t be away from his when he first saw her. I don’t want to let her out of my sight.

  My hand goes up, waving my security detail to me.

  “Follow her. Find out everything.” I nod toward the group. The server finally delivers the drink. My doll turns to look at me, and I watch with my body locked tight when she puts the bottle to her full lips. The image of her taking my cock deep between those lips causes me to spurt a bit of cum in my slacks. I want to adjust myself when her throat flexes as she swallows. When her lips tip up and she nods, I stand, ready to go claim her.

  I lose sight of her as there is a commotion with her friend. Her friend collapses, and I know that wanker intended to drug my doll. If she had drank that glass, she’d be in this condition. An image of her vulnerable to him flashes in my mind and my hand itches for my blade. I’ll cut off his balls if he touches what is mine.

  I head toward her to help and confront him about drugging her, but they are out of the club and gone before I can get to them. I’m glad I put security on her.

  I’m pacing the office in the club.

  “How did the wanker get a drug into that woman’s drink?”

  “We don’t know for sure she was drugged,” the manager snivels. Two of my guards have him between them; he’s slobbering and bloody from my fists. I crack my knuckles. I haven’t had to rough someone up in a long time, and it feels good. I’m on edge from not seeing my doll since she left. The guard I had set to follow her messaged that she and the others boarded a super yacht, and she hasn’t come out since. Some of the others were on the deck in the hot tub, but not her or her friend. The guy hasn’t been seen either, and I’m worried he’s sampling her. I’ll kill him for touching her.

  I stop and swing my fist, connecting with the manager’s nose, breaking it. Blood spurts and lands on my black slacks.

  “That woman went from tipsy to fucked up in seconds. Only drugs do that. If my bambola had touched it, you’d be dead right now.”

  “Bambola?” The manager looks up at me from his kneeling position, and I realize I called her my doll.

  “Yes, mine,” I growl before I slam my fist hard enough into him he slumps down between my guards. “Take care of him. I’m calling the Capo.” I pull out my phone and call my father.

  “Dante.” His rough voice filled with sleep comes across the line. “Is everything okay?”


  “You need to hire new management and get control. The manager of Festa allowed an innocent woman to be drugged while I was here.”

  “If you took it over, you’d have control over who was hired. The family needs you, figlio.” He’s instantly awake. He mixes Italian with his English, calling me son. I hear rustling over the line and then another voice. My stepmother. She married my father after my mother died.

  “I don’t want the job.” I hang up and nod to the guards, who drop the manager to the floor. We leave and head to the flat I stay in when I’m in town. My estate is on the mainland, but I set up a warehouse with a loft for when I’m here on the islands. Tonight, I don’t feel like making the drive out to the farm. I want to be close and watch for my doll. I’m hoping I can see her again before the boat she’s on leaves.

  On the way to my building, I stop and watch the yacht.

  “What room is she in?” I point to the darkened yacht.

  “She must be down below deck because none of the lights except the captain’s and galley have been on since she went aboard,” Vincenzo says.

  “You’ll watch her and contact me if they leave port. She’s not to leave your sight, ever.” I’ve just assigned him to guard her. I don’t normally have guards. These men work for my father, the Capo, but I trust them.

  After I walked away from the family at eighteen and went to university to study international trade, I started my business that now makes me enough money I don’t touch my trust fund. No one knows about my side job that also pays me well. Most think of me as the reclusive son of the Lupo family, the Northern Italian Venice mob. It’s not the life I wanted though. After losing Luna and my father being unable to save her, I didn’t see the point.

  My money is from my import-export business. It’s partly the reason I have the large warehouse on the island. The main floor is set up as a garage for my cars, and I have rooms for the guards my father makes me have when I’m in town. I mostly stay on the mainland at my vineyard and live the farm life when I’m not traveling the world ridding it of scum. Not too long ago, I spent some time down in Sicily guarding the Morello family for my cousin.

  Our families didn’t know my cousin was still alive until she took over as Capo Morello’s personal family guard. She is now the head of the dangerous Bocharov Russian mob. She is my uncle Valentino’s child. I was three when she and her mother were supposedly killed by her uncle in retaliation for her mother and my uncle being together. She was trained to kill and was set to kill the Morellos, but she instead protected them. When she and I found each other years earlier, she helped me with some of my training as she was working for MI6 at the time. We hid from the families that we were in contact. It was for my protection as much as hers, she had said.

  Ana has helped me with trying to find Luna, but so far, we haven’t found anything. I’m hoping to hear from the hospital where it turns out Narcissa was a patient this whole time. Between Ana, Maso, Santi, and me, we should be able to find something this time around.

  I move through the dark streets of Venice toward my place. When I open the doors, I immediately make my way up to the loft. The hardwood floors shine in the muted light. I move past the office toward my bedroom. I need to get this energy out of my system to calm my frayed nerves. This has never happened to me. Even as a teenager, I didn’t suffer from lack of control over my body. But one look at my doll and I was lost. My custom-made jacket hits the chair. I rip my shirt open, sending buttons flying around me. My belt is next, then I drop my slacks as I slip out of the loafers on my feet. I step into the large multi-head shower and the water automatically kicks on. I groan as I wrap my hand around my throbbing cock.

  The warmth of the water sluicing off my skin should ease me, but my nerves ramp up as I picture my doll on her knees right in front of me. Her eyes hooded with desire look up at me. I squeeze my cock as I envision shoving it between those full lips of hers, pushing back far enough to cut off her air, choking her. Her eyes water with tears, but all I see is desire. I groan and slide my hand faster along my throbbing skin. She moans and I fire off faster than I’ve ever done before, my control lost in the moment. But my cock doesn’t go slack; it’s still as hard as it was at the beginning. The fantasy replays in my mind, and this time it takes longer before my cum splashes against the glass. Fuck, I’m still hard. I ignore it and finish my shower.

  I will have her here soon. She will be mine, and no one will take her from me without losing their life. When I finally fall into bed, I think of her around my vineyard. I want to see that beautiful hair of hers in the sun.

  Chapter Two

  McKenna

  I spent the night taking care of Kara. I’m scared to leave her, but I already have plans. I leave her a note as she still hasn’t regained consciousness. I ask her to be more careful. Without the proof of who possibly drugged her, I can’t say anything. I recognized the signs. I’ve been there before. I remember the headache the next day, so I leave her some meds and a large bottle of water.

  Speaking of water, I look into my bag slung over my shoulder and see the green glass bottle from last night. I hadn’t realized I had it in my hand still when I got to the yacht.

  I carry my large backpack on my back as I disembark the yacht and make my way to the cheap hotel I’ll be staying in while I explore the islands. I want to go to the mainland tomorrow and check out some of the sights there too. Before I step through the doors into the lobby, I stop and look around, feeling like someone is watching me. I don’t see anyone. It’s not the same feeling I felt last night when my tall, dark stranger was watching me. When I crossed the Ponte di Rialto Bridge, I thought I caught a glimpse of a tall man. But I couldn’t be sure. I wish I could see the man from the club again. But on second thought, I don’t know if I want to.

  I check into my small room that only has a bed and a tiny bathroom. It reminds me of my room on the yacht that I shared with Kara. This is just for me though, so it feels bigger. I leave my backpack and sling my other bag across my body. The bottle bangs against my hip, and I like the feeling of having him close by me. I take my wavy hair and pin it up on top of my head, then I turn to look in the small bathroom mirror. The birthmark on the back of my neck shows. When I worked for the family, I had to cover it with makeup if I wore my hair up. Now, I don’t bother; it’s a part of me. I lock the flimsy handle and pull my sunglasses down as I make my way back out of the hotel.

  “Signora, would you like directions anywhere?” the desk clerk asks me.

  I turn around at the door and notice he is checking me out closely. I’m still not accustomed to men looking at me that way. I always remember him hurting me. I grit my teeth and move toward the desk, pushing the memories from before back.

  “I have a plan.” I pull out the map in my bag. “Thank you, anyway.” I smile at him and turn back around. He makes a noise and I turn back, but he ignores me and turns his back to me. I shrug and head for the doorway. When I step out onto the cobblestone path, I head toward the Mercato di Rialto area, where I want to try some of the local foods. As I move through the market, I feel eyes on me again. It’s just my nerves. After last night, the memories that have haunted my nightmares are causing me to be on edge.

  I enjoy a small meal, then I move on to the Campo San Polo historic square and take it all in.

  “Flowers, signora?” a vendor asks, and I look at the beautiful bouquet he’s holding toward me.

  I reach into my pocket and pull out a couple of notes. I shouldn’t splurge, but the scent of the flowers calms my nerves and something about them settles me. Something about this area does that to me. I smile at the vendor and turn to take in the square, the brightly colored buildings lining the streets. Never in my life have I felt this calmness.

  This peace.

  Last night with tall, dark, and handsome, I felt things, but not like this. This must be what people mean when they say “home.” I only know I’m from Italy, not where or who I was before the family purchased me. Maybe this wa
s my home. Maybe I’m from here. It’s a nice thought, but it can’t be true. Can it?

  As I turn around smiling at the sky, my eyes fall on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. I stop and stare at him. He moves across the square toward me. His large body is in tan slacks and a long-sleeved white button-down shirt. The sleeves are rolled up his large arms, revealing his tattoos. His olive skin is dark against the white. His gaze doesn’t stray from mine. I don’t back up or shy away from him when he stops right in front of me. He’s so big, I’m tiny compared to him. I should fear him, but I don’t. He’s at least a foot taller than me. His dark brown hair sweeps back from his face in waves. He lifts his sunglasses and warm chocolate brown eyes stare back at me. Dark scruff surrounds his chin, as if he didn’t shave today.

  “Dante Lupo,” he says.

  His voice is deep and calls to my body, causing my nipples to come erect behind my black cut up T-shirt with a sunflower and butterflies on it. I’m wearing a thin bra and I know he can see them. While my breasts might be small, my nipples aren’t. His eyes darken more as he takes them in. I want to cross my arms over my body, but instead I reach up with a shaky hand and push up my sunglasses. He watches every movement I make, as if I’m the only person here, yet people move around us in the square. My hand hits my hair clip and my hair tumbles down in a lilac wave around my shoulders and back.

  “Bambola, tell me your name, please.” His voice is gruffer now. What I imagine it would sound like after taking a shot of whiskey. I don’t know Italian, so I don’t know what he called me.

  “McKenna.” I don’t give him my last name. The less people learn about me in the beginning is the best.

  “McKenna,” he says my name, and I bite my bottom lip, fighting the groan that wants to slip out. He reaches out, and instead of stepping back or blocking him, I crave his touch. His fingers slide against my cheek, and I close my eyes, letting my guard down.