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

I get into the passenger seat of Rafe’s Aston Martin and clip in the seatbelt, feeling strangely at peace with the fact that our drive to Ferraro’s penthouse in Midtown might be the last car ride I’ll ever take.

I suppose it already feels like I’m living on borrowed time. I hadn’t expected Rafe to welcome me back like he did, but after meeting Blake, I know what it’s like to have a woman change you.

“So what’s her name?” he asks.

“Blake.”

“Does she know what you’re doing right now?”

“She knows.”

“She must be devastated.”

“Right before I came to you, she told me that she hates me.”

Rafe’s lips twitch. “If by some miracle you make it back home tonight, I’m sure she’ll come around.” He stops at a red light and turns to me. “Look at Cleo. She came around even after I forced her to marry me.”

I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. “I not only forced Blake to marry me, I also set her house on fire so that she’d move in with me.”

Rafe makes a surprised huff. “I didn’t realize this was a competition, but all right, you win.”

A wry smirk tugs on my lips. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Have you found a new boxing partner?”

“Bruno and I go once a week.”

“Bruno? Jesus. That’s not a real workout. You must wipe the floor with that guy.”

“He’s not that bad.” Rafe glances over. “You look a bit out of shape.”

“Liar. I’m in great fucking shape, as always.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m about to get my head blown off, and you’re still giving me shit.”

“What else am I supposed to do? Cry?”

“Fuck, no. I have a feeling you’re an ugly crier. I don’t need to see that in my last hour on earth.”

We exchange jabs and talk shit for most of the drive to Ferraro’s penthouse. Under normal circumstances, Rafe probably would have told me to shut up a long time ago, but I get the sense he’s trying to keep my mind off what’s about to happen.

I feel some comfort in the fact that he’ll be there with me right up until the end.

Inside, the concierge has to call to see if Ferraro will let us up. Rafe provides him with a fake name for me—the name of his new underboss, Alec Puglisi. A minute later, the concierge gives us the go-ahead.

“How’s that working out?” I ask as we walk through the lobby.

Rafe stops in front of the elevator. “Alec? It was an adjustment at first.”

“And now?”

He gives me a look. I’m fishing, and he knows it. I’m like a needy divorcée who wants him to tell me that no one could ever replace me.

But by the looks of it, Rafe’s doing just fine. He adapted, the way any don worth his salt would.

We step into the elevator.

Did I imagine my departure would be a real hit to his organization? In my worst moments back in Darkwater Hollow, before I moved in next door to Blake, I indulged myself in fantasies of how Rafe would slowly lose his grip on his kingdom without me by his side.

I thought I was important. And maybe I was for a time.

But everyone is replaceable.

I’ve always known this. I guess it only really sinks in when it happens to you.

The doors slide open, revealing a large fountain in the foyer. A moment later, a member of Ferraro’s house staff comes out to greet us.

“Gino is expecting us,” Rafaele says.

“I was told it was you, Mr. Messero, and Mr. Puglisi…” The older man trails off, his eyes thinning as he takes me in.

“Change of plans,” Rafe says.

“I’ll have to ask for your weapons.”

Rafe and I hand him our guns.

The man leads us into the living room and offers us a seat, but neither Rafe nor I take one. The air buzzes with anxious energy, and the blood inside my veins feels thick and heavy. This must be what it feels like to walk the plank. To see your death just steps away and know nothing but an act of God can stop it.

Gino Ferraro enters the room.

To his credit, his shock is nearly imperceptible as it passes across his features. Maybe he never fully believed that charred body was mine.

Rafe takes a few steps forward. I wonder if he realizes he’s put himself in front of me. “We need to talk.”

Gino nods. “I can see that. Let’s go into my office.”

We nearly make it there when his wife, Vita, comes out of a room.

Her eyes flash as she takes me in. She tilts her head to the side. “You didn’t mention we had guests, dear.”

Gino drags his palm over his white beard. “A surprise visit.”

“Good evening, Vita,” Rafe says. “It’s true. We didn’t give much notice.”

Her perceptive gaze flickers between us. “I’ll bring us all some tea.”

A chuckle nearly escapes me. What a civilized start to an execution.

We follow Gino into his office, which looks like it belongs to a therapist instead of the head of a crime family. Everything is decorated in muted beiges and browns, the windowsill is lined with bonsai trees, and there’s the distinct sound of trickling water coming from a small crane-shaped fountain in the corner.

Gino takes a seat behind his desk, and we take the two chairs across from him.

“Your sons aren’t around?” I ask.

“If they were, there’s a good chance you wouldn’t have made it this far.”

What he means is they’d shoot me on sight. The Ferraro patriarch is at least willing to exchange a few words first, not that I’m expecting this to be a very long conversation.

Vita comes in carrying a tray with a teapot and four cups. She puts the tray on Gino’s desk, and then carefully pours the tea for all of us.

She and Gino have been married for thirty-something years, if I’m remembering correctly. What would that be like? To grow old with someone? To raise a family together?

I’ll never get to experience any of that with Blake, and the realization hits me like a knife to the chest.

“Thank you, darling,” Gino says. “Should we move to the couches?”

“No need. I’d prefer to stay on my feet. I’ve been sitting all day,” she answers.

Gino nods and brushes his hand over Vita’s, but the softness in his eyes disappears the moment they move back to me.

“Nero.” He steeples his hands in front of him. “There’s a part of me that always suspected we were taken in by Rafaele as far as you were concerned.”

Rafaele shifts in his seat. “Gino, he’s my oldest friend. And what happened that night was an unfortunate mistake.”

Gino ignores him, focusing intently on me. “Why are you here?”

“I was discovered by someone.”

“Who?”

“A group of bikers from a Missouri gang called Iron Raptors.”

“And where are these bikers now?”

“I left their bodies in a motel parking lot.”

Gino arches a brow. “Then why come back?”

“Before I got to them, they contacted your people. I wasn’t careful enough, and I didn’t want to throw Rafe under the bus. I’m here to face the consequences of my actions.”

“How honorable.” He takes a sip of his tea and then glances past me.

I follow his line of sight. He’s looking at Vita. She’s standing by the window, appearing to be focused on the view, but it’s clear she’s listening to our conversation.

“What happened with Michael was an accident,” Rafaele says.

Gino’s fingers tap lightly against the desk. “I know that.”

“Then you also know now is not the time to fight over past mistakes. There’s a reason we’ve decided to join our families by marrying Fabi to Cosimo. The growing Bratva threat cannot be ignored. We can crush them easily together, or we can fight them separately and lose even more of our men.”

“None of that changes the fact that you lied to me. You told me he burned in that fire. How can I partner with someone I can’t trust?”

“I lied to you one time. I’ve never lied to you about anything else.”

“You expect me to believe that? The right thing to do would be to call the wedding off and find another wife for Cosimo. You’re not the only powerful family in New York, Rafaele.”

Vita clears her throat. “My love, can I talk to you in private?”

Gino looks at his wife. Something unspoken passes between them. “Of course. Excuse me.”

They walk out, leaving Rafe and me.

“He’s as stubborn as a mule,” Rafe mutters. “And he likes to hold grudges.”

“I was ready for this.”

“You should have stayed away.”

“What’s done is done.”

“Fuck, Nero,” he says angrily. “It’s like you want this to happen. What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t want it, but I’ve made peace with it.”

Rafe stares at me like he doesn’t understand me. I don’t expect him to. The mistakes he made with Cleo pale in comparison to how I’ve hurt Blake.

Gino walks back into the room alone. His footsteps are measured as he moves to reclaim his seat across from us. “My wife seems to be set on this match for our son. Sometimes, she sees things that I don’t, but after many decades together, I’ve learned to trust her intuition. The wedding is still on.”

“Good,” Rafe says. “I am as committed to our partnership as ever. And Nero—”

“Nero still has a debt to pay.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight. In the chair beside me, Rafe stiffens.

Gino stands up and shrugs off his jacket. There’s a gun tucked into the front of his waistband. He walks around the desk and leans against the edge of it, stopping just to the right of my chair.

I lift my gaze to his, and whatever lingering hope I had left disappears. There’s no mercy in his eyes.

“Get on your knees.”

My skin tightens over my bones. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, making cold sweat break out over my back.

This is it.

“Now, Nero.”

I won’t beg him to spare me. Not when I can tell he’s already made up his mind.

And I won’t cower. If I die, I’ll die like a made man.

I push out of the chair and kneel.

Behind me, Rafe sucks in a harsh breath. “Nero is a capable consigliere. He can help me—”

Gino’s laugh is humorless. “You can’t expect me to hand him right back to you as if nothing happened.”

“Let’s talk about this.”

“I lost a family member because of you two fucking up, and you want to just go back to business as usual? It doesn’t work that way. Nero has to pay.” He lifts his gun and points it at my head.

“This is a waste. If he’s here, I might as well put him to work. That will help both of us.”

“We’ve managed the past six months without him.” The cold barrel presses against my forehead.

I close my eyes and conjure up Blake in my imagination. My death will ensure Blake will be safe from the Iron Raptors and safe from Gino, even if he finds out about her. Rafe will protect her. He’ll make sure she’s all right.

She’s strong, and she’ll build a new life here in New York. She can start that bookshop she’s always dreamt about right here. But none of these reassuring thoughts manage to expel the regret that I feel.

I failed her.

I was selfish and arrogant. If I’d been more careful like Sandro warned me I needed to be, he’d still be alive, and Blake wouldn’t have a target on her back.

“Gino,” Rafe says in a low voice, but it holds an undercurrent of desperation. “Can you just put the gun down for a fucking minute? We’re in the middle of a conversation.”

Gino clicks the safety off. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

The chair behind me skids against the floor. “You’re acting rashly. This isn’t like you.”

“That’s enough, Rafaele.”

“We can use him! He’s got the know-how, the network, the credibility. He’s a fucking asset.”

A ball appears inside my throat. Rafe told me he couldn’t save me, but he’s trying harder than I thought he would. Even now, he’s got my back, the way my own father never did.

I let out a shaky breath and curl my hands into fists at my sides. I don’t want to think of that man during my last moments. I only want to think of Blake. Of the way she used to look at me before I broke her heart—like I was someone she could love.

“An asset,” Gino mutters, but I barely hear him over the loud drumming inside my ears. Boom. Boom. Boom.

A few tense seconds tick by.

What is he waiting for?

I open my eyes. Gino’s staring at me with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice low. “We can use him.”

What?

The cold pressure against my forehead eases. Slowly, deliberately, he lowers the gun.

I sag back on my heels. My heart’s racing a mile a minute, my dress shirt is sticking to my back, and the room is spinning like a merry-go-round.

Rafe’s hand clamps down on my shoulder. “C’mon, Nero.”

Gino shakes his head. “He’s not going anywhere with you. From now on, I don’t want you two to have any contact unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Rafe’s grip tightens. “I thought—”

“You thought wrong.” Gino tucks the gun back into his belt. “We can use him. We will put him to work. He won’t be working for you.” His gray eyes move back to my kneeling form. “He’ll work for me and my sons.”

I exhale a harsh breath, my mind scrambling to make sense of what just happened.

He’s not going to kill me? Why? I always know when someone’s ready to pull the trigger, and Gino was ready.

So what changed?

But the puzzle of Ferraro’s motivations fades from my mind, overtaken by something more urgent, more vital.

I’m going home. To Blake. To my wife.

And I’m not going to waste this second chance to make all my wrongs right.