When He Takes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Fallen God Book 2)

“Midway upon the journey of our life,

I found myself within a forest dark,

For the straightforward pathway had been lost.”

– The Divine Comedy, Dante

In the first few hours of December twenty-eighth, we pull into the far end of a parking lot outside a small Las Vegas chapel. It’s the kind of place where people get hitched after they drink enough to think getting married to a stranger is a good idea.

The door to the chapel opens, and a couple comes tumbling out, the woman’s fingers getting tangled in the man’s hair as they exchange a vigorous kiss. She giggles and leans against a wall while he devours her neck. A few long seconds pass with them feeling each other up before they manage to pour themselves into a waiting cab. I watch them drive off, feeling more sober than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

We’re next.

I’m about to start my year by marrying the man sitting beside to me. Not that I want to. Not that it’s my choice.

“Blake. Listen to me,” my kidnapper says. My captor.

Not Rowan Miller, the man I fell for, but Nero De Luca, the man I don’t know.

“I’m going to step out of the car and come around to your side.” His voice is low and steady. It infuriates me how he can sound so calm while he’s destroying my life. “Don’t run, and don’t try to fight me.”

At first, I tried to run each time we stopped at a red light, but I can’t do that anymore. Not since Nero attached my wrist to the door handle with a zip tie.

But he’ll have to cut the zip tie off to get me inside the chapel. Which means this will be my best chance to try again.

I look out the window, searching for anyone who might be able to help me.

I’ve never been to Vegas. As far as I can tell, we’re nowhere near the famous strip with the hotels and casinos.

This area is desolate. Run-down. The only other business that’s still open at this hour is the porn shop on the other side of the four-lane highway.

Euphoria Emporium. That might be my best bet.

“And if I do?” I ask while keeping my eyes on the shop.

“You’ll get yourself hurt.”

“You mean, you’ll hurt me.”

“I have no intention of hurting you, Blake.”

My hands turn to fists in my lap. “But you will, if you have to.”

Rowan Miller was a lie.

And this man? A liar.

I can’t believe that before I found out who he really was, I was going to tell him I loved him.

In love with a criminal, just like my mom.

I spent my whole life determined to be nothing like her, and then I went and did it anyway. I fell for a man who’s no better than my father.

Nero betrayed me, but I betrayed myself. Again. I was cautious, until I wasn’t, and then I was so invested in proving Brett wrong about him, that I refused to acknowledge the signs that something was amiss.

How could I be so stupid? I just can’t help it, can I?

“I know you’re hurt and upset, but we have to do this,” Nero says. “We don’t have a choice.”

“You have a choice. You can let me go.”

“I can’t. This is the only way I can keep you safe. I’ve already explained that to you.”

“You haven’t explained shit. You just said that if I’m your wife, I’ll be protected. I don’t understand what that means, Nero. Protected by who? Maybe if you want me to go along with your plan, you should start by telling me the full extent of it, instead of saying I’m better off not knowing.”

Nero lets out a heavy sigh, his jaw clenched tight. “All right,” he answers gruffly. “I’ll tell you.”

I look at him. He turns off the truck and darkness wraps around him like an old lover. Shadows dance across the tense expression on his face.

He’s terrifying. How did I not see it earlier? How did I kiss those lips and not realize they belonged to a killer?

There’s something wrong with me. There has to be.

His gaze lifts to meet mine, and my heart breaks all over again. When I stare into those hazel eyes, I still see a hint of the man I thought I loved.

I have to remind myself that Rowan was never real.

Why couldn’t he have just stayed out of my life and let me leave Darkwater Hollow like I wanted to?

I wish I could go to sleep and wake up in a different reality, one where he never drove me home in the middle of a blizzard, never convinced me to fake date him, and never told me all those things that made me feel like I was special to him.

It was all a lie.

Nero drums his fingertips against the wheel, thinking, calculating. At least that’s how it comes across, and it raises my guard. I asked for an explanation, but I’m hesitant to believe anything that comes out of his mouth.

“When we arrive in New York, I’ll go and see my old boss, Rafaele. Once he knows I have a wife, he’ll take you under his protection.”

New York.

Nero De Luca’s old playground. That’s where he ran from so that he wouldn’t be killed by a rival mob family.

I swallow past the tightness in my throat. “Why would he do that?”

“Because that’s law. Our law. And despite what happened with me, Rafe won’t break it.”

He makes his old boss sound like someone noble, but these people are mobsters. How can I ever be safe if I’m surrounded by mobsters?

“And what about you?” I demand.

“What about me?”

“What will happen to you? Don’t you also need protection?”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. Seconds pass, but he doesn’t answer.

Dreads slithers through my veins. “You told me earlier that the other family, the Ferraros, wanted to kill you. That’s why you pretended you were dead. So why would you go back to the city that you ran from? Won’t they find you there?”

“Maybe they will.”

“I don’t understand.” What am I missing here? It sounds like he’s saying we’re going to New York for my benefit, despite the risk to his own life.

“We can’t outrun the men that are after me,” Nero says quietly, his gaze on the chapel. “Not now that they know I’m still alive. They’ll find us eventually, and then they’ll kill us both. It’s better for me to just give myself to them to do as they see fit. At least you’ll be safe.”

Yeah, right. I refuse to believe that. He is not capable of a sacrifice like that. Surely not for my sake. He wasn’t even capable of letting me leave Darkwater because of his own selfish desires.

He’s lying to me again. Whatever his real plan is, he’s not telling it to me.

I’ve been numb for hours, but now that numbness is replaced with something that burns like gasoline.

“Just leave me here. I’ll go to California and stay with Del.”

He shakes his head. “The Iron Raptors will be looking for you too, and the first thing they’ll do is check if you’re staying with any of your friends or family.”

My stomach drops. “You’re saying… Are you saying I may have put Del in danger?”

“If you’re not there, they won’t do anything to her. But if you are, you’ll bring them straight to her doorstep.”

No. That can’t be right.

Desperation and anger claw their way up my lungs. “I didn’t kill those guys. You did.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “I know, but that doesn’t matter. They’ll want us both dead.”

“Won’t they track us back to New York then?” I ask, searching for any flaw in his logic that could give me a way out of this nightmare.

“They might. But they won’t do anything to you if they know you’re protected by Rafaele Messero. The Messero family is far too powerful for the Iron Raptors to provoke.”

I want to scream in frustration.

“We have to do this, Blake. Let’s go.” He reaches for me, but I jerk away, plastering myself to the door. I don’t want him to touch me.

“Don’t,” I snap.

Something pained flashes inside his gaze. “I need to cut the zip tie. May I?”

I glare at him for a long moment and then give a terse nod. He leans over again and quickly snaps the tie with the tip of his pocketknife.

“If you don’t come willingly, I will have to carry you inside,” he warns.

“I’d like to see you try.”

My weak attempt at bravado doesn’t seem to affect him. “I could do it easily, and you know it.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. Physically, I don’t stand a chance against Nero. I can’t fight him off. I can’t outrun him. The only thing I can do is beg him to let me go or try to reason with him, but I already tried both, and I’m still here.

I push a dirty strand of hair behind my ear. “The officiant won’t marry us without my consent.”

“The officiant will do whatever I tell him to do when he sees my gun.”

The tiny balloon of hope I still had inside of me deflates.

With one last lingering look at me, he gets out of the truck. I track his movements as he walks around to my side and opens the door.

A cold desert wind blows in, whipping my hair against my face. My lips are cracked, and my skin is dry. The bruises Uncle Lyle left on me pulse with dull pain, but they’re the least of my problems.

Nero offers me his hand to help me out of the truck. I ignore it.

My Converses land on the pavement with a dull thud, but my knees are so achy from sitting inside the car for all those hours, they buckle beneath me.

Nero catches me, wrapping his palms around my waist. “Careful.”

I suck in a breath. He’s standing close to me, his brow furrowed in concern, and when his gaze snags on the bruises on my face, it darkens.

“After we’re done here, we’ll stop by a Walgreens to get more ice. I want a doctor to take a look at you, but that’ll have to wait until New York.”

My attention is fully zoomed in on his touch. “Let go of me.”

His lips press into a firm line. He drops his hands and glances away from me, his throat bobbing on a swallow.

There has to be another way. Another option. If I can just get whoever’s working in that porn shop to call the cops, Nero will have to leave me behind and run. He can’t risk getting caught. He’d go to prison for the rest of his life. The cops will protect me from the Iron Raptors. They have to.

This might be my last chance.

I knee him in the groin and run.

“Fuck,” he huffs.

My shoes pound against the cement.

Faster, faster!

The neon sign above the shop is my beacon, and I race toward it, my breaths coming out in harsh puffs—

“Ungh!” I trip on a pothole and tumble to the ground. Pain explodes through my right knee.

I push myself up, my palms scraping against the rough pavement. My heart thunders in my chest as I try to scramble to my feet, but a strong hand grips my arm and yanks me up.

“Goddamn it, Blake. What was that?”

His face looms in front of me. Humiliation and despair prickle over my cheeks. He didn’t even need to chase me. I barely made it twenty feet.

“Your knee’s bleeding,” he says roughly, angrily. “Why would you do that? What were you hoping to accomplish? Did you really think whoever’s in that shop would be a match for me?”

“The police,” I whisper.

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You were going to call the police?”

When I nod, he barks a humorless laugh. “You’d be signing your own death warrant. They’d ship you right back to Missouri and let the local PD handle the case. Do you think the Iron Raptors don’t have at least a few of those cops in their pocket? You’d be dead within a week.”

He doesn’t seem to expect a response, which might be for the best, because I’ve got nothing. If even the cops can’t help me, then…I guess I’m marrying him.

Nero pulls me back to the car, lifts me onto the passenger seat, and rummages inside the glove compartment for tissues.

I stare at the dark sky above him as he dabs at the scrape and will myself not to cry.

It turns out, Nero’s right. The officiant does exactly what he’s told, casting only a mildly concerned look at the bruises on my face and the tear in my jeans. There’s no need for threats—Nero’s tone inspires complete obedience. It’s the tone of a man you’d be an idiot to defy.

It’s the tone of a killer.

And of my new husband.

The cheap silver ring on my finger burns almost as much as my knee as we drive toward a Walgreens. In the parking lot, he leaves me alone inside the truck, secured with a zip tie again. He didn’t need to bother. The hopelessness of my situation has finally sunk in. I have no documents, no money, no phone. I’m exhausted. My body is this close to giving out.

Nevada isn’t far from California, and from here, I could probably hitchhike my way to Del, but I won’t risk putting her on the Iron Raptors’ radar. I won’t be responsible for another person getting killed because of me.

A searing pain spreads through my chest.

Sam didn’t need to die. He could have left through the back and saved himself when Uncle Lyle showed up at the house. He should have saved himself.

Instead, he fought. Fought to protect me, to buy me time, even though we both knew the odds were stacked against us. His bravery cost him his life, and the guilt I carry weighs heavier than any chain Nero could bind me with.

Maybe I should be angry at Sam—Sandro—for lying to me the entire time too. But there’s no anger when I think of him. Only sorrow. The kind that leaves a permanent scar that won’t ever fade.

The passenger door opens. Nero frees me from the door handle and drops two plastic bags at my feet. “Got us some food and water.”

I take him in. He’s tense, like a coiled spring. There are dark bags under his eyes. We drove straight from the motel where he found me to Vegas, stopping only twice to use the bathroom and get some food. I slept for a few hours here and there, but he’s been up for at least two days.

I don’t know how he’s still functioning.

A tinge of concern for him appears in the back of my head, and it makes me so angry that I bite down on my tongue hard enough to make it bleed.

What is wrong with me? I shouldn’t care if he lives or dies given what I know about him now.

And yet you do.

He takes a bottle of water out of one of the plastic bags. “Turn this way and scoot to the edge of your seat. I need to clean the scrape on your knee.”

“Just give it to me. I can do it.” I try to take the bottle, but he pulls it out of my reach.

“I’ll do it,” he says, his eyes glued to the wound.

“Why?” I demand.

His jaw tenses, and he won’t look at me. “I’m going to get us a room for the night. We both need to get some sleep before we drive to New York.”

The promise of a bed makes the fight go out of me, and I shift in my seat like he asked. He tips the bottle, pouring the water over the bloody scrape. I hiss at the sting.

He winces. “I’m sorry. I know it hurts. I’ll be quick.”

“Why are you still acting like you care? Your ruse is up. You don’t need to pretend anymore.”

He puts the water down, rips open an antiseptic wipe, and gently cleans the wound. “I never pretended to care about you,” he says quietly.

Lies.

A tear slips down my cheek. All my life, I’ve been surrounded by liars. By people who have let me down.

I thought he was different.

But he’s just like the rest.