Dark wolf soul mafia pac.., p.20
Dark Wolf Soul (Mafia Pack Book 1),
p.20
For some reason, this is the moment I realize how different Indigo Hills really is from the rest of the world. It’s not about wolf shifters or anything supernatural; it’s this—regular citizens witnessing an obvious crime and doing nothing to stop it.
This city is a killer, and I’ve just become its next victim.
Despite my thrashing, Dom carries me right through the front doors of Altobello’s and promptly releases me. I fall into a heap on the floor, grunting with the impact. Ignoring the pain of the hard floor against my knees and elbows, I climb quickly to my feet and assess my surroundings. Three security guards already block the door behind me. Their expressions are grim and unyielding though they don’t bother meeting my eyes.
Like I’m not even here.
Like I never even existed.
Will anyone miss me when I’m dead?
Mia? Violet? Grey?
His name makes my eyes burn with hot tears, but I refuse to give in to them. Blinking away the moisture, I note the bartender from the other day back at his post. Bobby something or other. He looks over at me, and I flash him my middle finger. He chuckles and goes back to polishing glasses.
“Classy,” Dom says.
I recover and glare at him. “Fuck you.”
He stalks up to me so quickly that I shrink away from him. But he only leans in closer until I can smell his stale breath as he says, “You play your cards right, princess, you might just get your wish someday.”
He flashes me a parting wink, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to chase him down and claw his eyes out with my freshly painted nails. Then again, if I’m about to die anyway, why hold myself back?
The back door swings open, and Franco steps out. Three more men enter behind him and fan out into the space. They all wear the same slacks and button-downs as the guards at the front door. I’m starting to realize “business killer casual” is a specific look in Indigo Hills. Like every bodyguard in the city shops at the same store or something.
“Boss, she’s here,” Dom says.
“No shit, Sherlock. I can see her standing there.” Franco frowns as he pauses in front of Dom. “What the hell happened to you?”
Dom dabs at his cheek, and I feel a sense of satisfaction at the blood that stains his fingers when he pulls his hand away. He looks over, glaring at me as he realizes I actually injured him.
“Classy,” I toss back at him.
His eyes narrow, and he starts toward me, but Franco stops him. Instead, the old man himself strides over to where I stand, disheveled and terrified, though I’m hoping he doesn’t notice the latter.
“You wanted to see me so badly the other day,” he taunts. “Now, you’ve suddenly changed your mind?”
“I’ve re-evaluated.”
He smiles smugly. “So have I.”
At the back, another guard pushes through the doorway from the kitchen. He glances around the room then settles on Franco.
“Found him in the alley outside,” he says.
Then he moves aside to reveal a familiar face.
Ramsey.
“Dismissed,” Franco tells the guard.
The man retreats into the kitchen, leaving Ramsey standing before us. Rage builds inside me all over again at seeing him in the same room with Franco and Dom. He’s the enemy now, and I want nothing more to do with him except to pay him back for his betrayal.
“You’re not worried your people will see you here?” Franco asks him.
“Of course I am. But your guy did a snatch-and-grab on the street before I even pulled away. I can’t be seen driving off and leaving her ass here.”
“Take a seat and shut your mouth then.” Franco waves him off toward the bar, and I’m surprised to watch as Ramsey does as he’s ordered.
Franco turns back to me. “Now, about that re-evaluation.”
“Whatever you’re going to do to me, it won’t matter.” I muster all the bravery I can as he cocks his head, studying me with an expression that says he knows I’m full of shit.
“And why is that?”
“Because the Diavolo family doesn’t care what happens to me, so there’s no point in trying to use me against them.”
“Is that what you think?”
I frown. “It’s the truth.”
“Regardless of what you believe, I called you here for a purpose.”
A purpose.
Was death a purpose?
I wasn’t sure, but I also wasn’t ready to let my guard down.
“I don’t give a shit about your purpose.”
“You will,” he says in a voice that makes me shudder.
“There’s nothing you can ask of me that I’ll agree to.”
He ignores my words and simply says, “Find out what Diavolo is planning, and report back to me.”
“Vincenzo? I already told you, he’s—”
“Not Vincenzo. The son.”
My gaze flicks to Ramsey, and dread punches me in the gut. “You told him?”
Ramsey’s expression crumples into silent anguish, but I feel zero empathy for whatever has him twisted up just now. All I can do is stare at him in horror and disgust.
“You fucking ratted on your best friend?” I demand.
“You don’t understand,” Ramsey says, but I cut him off and look back at Franco.
“You want me to spy for you?” I say in disbelief. “After abandoning and rejecting me? Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“Go to hell.”
Franco moves surprisingly fast for an old man. His hand shoots out, cracking across my cheek with enough force to make me stumble sideways. Fiery pain blooms across my skin, and my eyes water.
“You will do as I tell you, girl.” Franco’s voice is clipped with barely controlled anger.
Blinking furiously, I cup my cheek with my hand and focus on breathing. Now that I know what he really wants, I can’t help but think being dumped into a vat of acid would have been so much easier.
“Or what?” I challenge, squaring my shoulders and meeting his gaze like I’m not a completely terrified mess.
“Or the next miserable fuck I snatch off the street will be your precious fiancé.”
“I don’t care about Grey.”
“Bullshit,” he snorts, and I realize he’s seen right through me. Mia was right; I suck at lying. “Though, if you want to test me, be my guest. His death will be on you, and so will the long hours of torture that come before it. But if you don’t care…by all means, refuse me. The choice is yours, Granddaughter.”
The last word drips with sarcasm, and I decide right here that I hate him. There is absolutely no bond or debt owed to this man for being my blood. He’s evil and deserves what he gets.
After a beat of silence, I hear, “Lexi.”
My head whips toward Ramsey where he sends me a pleading look. Before I can tell him to go fuck himself, Franco grabs my chin and yanks me back to face him.
“Do we have a deal?” he snaps.
I hesitate, my heart pounding so hard I wonder how it doesn’t bruise my ribs. “What do you want me to find out?”
30
GREY
The maître d’ shoots me another glance, eliciting a growl from me. With one hand, I grip the half-full Old Fashioned I’ve already drained twice. With the other, I hold my phone, doing my best not to crush it in my hands as I stare at the unanswered texts I’ve sent to Lexi.
She’s late.
Ramsey texted me an hour ago and said Lexi was upset after shopping and he’d wait to make sure she got out of the apartment okay. He’s checked in with me since, buying more time, but she refuses to answer me.
Part of me wants to call Mia and demand to know what she said to make Lexi so upset. But then I remember none of this is Mia’s fault. It’s mine.
I’ve been an asshole.
I kidnapped her, for fuck’s sake. Dragged her to a foreign city and straight into a feud that could very well get her killed. And now, I want her to choose me like some lovesick fucking fool. One day of shopping and the illusion of freedom will not change what I am to her.
The maître d’ looks over again and I squeeze the glass, imagining it’s his head. His judgment is written clearly over his sympathetic features. He already believes I’ve been stood up, and he feels sorry.
Pity is one thing I will not allow.
Lexi has to come. She just has to—
My phone rings, cutting off my spiraling thoughts. Hope leaps into my throat, but instead of Lexi’s burner phone number on my Caller ID, it’s my father.
Fuck.
He’s the last person I want to speak to now.
But since I know he has eyes and ears even here in this restaurant, I answer it.
“Hello, Father.”
“What are you doing?” he demands, and I set the glass down because, this time, I already know I’ll squeeze it hard enough to shatter it.
“Having dinner.”
“Where the hell is the girl?”
I frown, purposely keeping my eyes averted even though all I want to do is scan the faces of the other diners. Someone here is informing to him about me, and I want to know who.
“She’s coming.”
“Coming? What the fuck? You were supposed to keep her leashed,” he says, voice rising, probably right along with his blood pressure. “To never take your eyes off her. Where the hell is she?”
“She’s secure,” I say, my voice tightening as his volume rises.
“Unless she’s under the table sucking you off, I beg to differ.”
Rage boils inside me, and I grip the tablecloth if only to have something grounding me to this Earth—and to the reasons why I shouldn’t rip his tongue out.
“Don’t talk about her that way.” The words rip from my mouth, and the moment I say them, I wish I could take them back.
“You care about her.”
It’s not a question, but I can’t let it go. “No,” I lie. “You’re just being a dick.”
“What does she mean to you, son? More than whore, clearly.” He pauses, but I refuse to dignify any of this with a response. “Do you actually want to marry her?”
I expect anger or even disappointment, so his quiet curiosity puts me on edge. “That’s ridiculous. I just met her.”
“True, but mates don’t need time, only recognition.”
“She has no wolf,” I remind him. “There’s no mate to recognize.”
“She has a wolf,” he says in a voice that sends a trickle of unease down my spine.
“What do you know about her wolf?” I demand.
“Not enough yet,” he says. “But I will soon.”
I don’t know what that means, but my mind is already working a mile a minute to think of a way to find out.
“And when I do,” he goes on, “She’ll be ours to control forever.”
Not ours.
Mine.
I start to argue but then shut my mouth again before I can make things worse. He must take my silence as agreement because he clears his throat and says, “I’ll be in touch. Enjoy your dinner.”
The moment we hang up, I lift my hand and signal for another drink. At the same time, I dial Dutch to fill him in and ask him to look into whatever my father’s hiding about Lexi’s wolf. Whatever it is, it can’t be good for her. I don’t need details to know Vincenzo is only out for himself in the end because that’s the only person in the world he’s ever looked out for.
I used to be that way. Only looking out for myself too. Hell, it’s why my plan failed five years ago and why I left when it did. But now, I have someone else’s fate to think about. Lexi’s future is in my hands—and I’ve never felt less capable of saving anyone in my entire fucking life.
Find out what happens next in Deadly Wolf Bite!
Want more from this world?
Check out The Lone Wolf Pack series & The Black Moon Pack series for interconnected shifter romance stories and see which characters from Dark Wolf Soul make an appearance.
Find out more including series reading order at https://www.heatherhildenbrand.com/series-reading-order.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Heather Hildenbrand lives in coastal Virginia where she writes paranormal and urban fantasy romance with lots of kissing & killing. Her most frequent hobbies are truck camping with her goldendoodle, talking to her plants, and avoiding killer slugs.
You can find out more about Heather and her books at www.heatherhildenbrand.com.
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CONTENTS
1. Lexi
2. Grey
3. Lexi
4. Grey
5. Lexi
6. Grey
7. Lexi
8. Grey
9. Lexi
10. Grey
11. Lexi
12. Grey
13. Lexi
14. Lexi
15. Grey
16. Lexi
17. Lexi
18. Grey
19. Lexi
20. Grey
21. Lexi
22. Grey
23. Lexi
24. Lexi
25. Grey
26. Lexi
27. Grey
28. Lexi
29. Lexi
30. Grey
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About the Author
Heather Hildenbrand, Dark Wolf Soul (Mafia Pack Book 1)
