The Mafia King’s Doll

Renzo

Since I fucked up at the restaurant two days ago, things have been strained between Skylar and me.

Her walls are back up, and she only speaks when I demand a response from her.

In my defense, she could’ve stopped me, but she didn’t.

I’m at the warehouse because I figured Skylar could do with some alone time.

Elio’s taking a nap on the couch while I check that all the shipments are on schedule.

It’s been a while since I heard from Dario, and pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial his number.

“Hey, brother,” he answers, “you still alive?” “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I figured you and Skylar would’ve killed each other by now,” he chuckles.

“We had a close call, but we’re both still breathing,” I say, a smile curving my lips.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I’m just checking in with you. You’ve been quiet.”

He lets out a sigh. “I figured you didn’t need me around making things harder for you, so I’m in Spain busy tracking Montes.”

“You left without telling any of us?” I ask, surprised to hear he’s halfway across the world.

“I told Damiano. The rest of you are a little preoccupied lately.”

“Sorry, brother,” I say while relaxing back in the chair. “No matter how busy I am, I always have time for you.”

“I know.” I hear him move, and the wind whistles over the line. “How are things with Skylar? You haven’t changed your mind about keeping her captive?”

“No, I haven’t,” I reply, and knowing it will make Dario stop worrying about her, I admit, “I’ve actually grown fond of the woman. She’s not so

bad once you get to know her.”

“What?” he gasps. There’s a few seconds of silence, then he asks, “Are you fucking with me?”

“Not at all. Franco planted the damn seed, suggesting I should marry her so she can give me an heir. Since then, I started seeing her in a different light.”

“And how does Skylar feel about all of this?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “We’re getting to know each other, but she’s got a ten-foot wall around her emotions.”

“I don’t blame her. You’ve put the woman through all kinds of hell.” Glancing up at the ceiling, I let out a sigh. “I know.”

“Want my advice?”

“Sure, why not?” I mutter, already knowing I’m not going to like it.

“Let her go. She won’t give you a snowball’s chance in hell unless you let her go free.”

“Not happening,” I mutter.

“Good luck winning her over then,” Dario says. “I have to go. I’ll be in touch if I find Montes.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

Ending the call, I suck in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

I’m dead sure if I let Skylar go, I’ll never see her again. She might be attracted to me, but it doesn’t mean shit. In her eyes, I’m the villain.

I have to somehow change her opinion of me. I have to make her see I’m not just a killer and capo.

Fuck knows how I’m going to do that.

Skylar

Sitting on the couch with my arms crossed over my chest, I watch the live stream from my house.

Dad’s in the kitchen with Louisa, and they’re eating a meatloaf she threw together.

If I ever get out of here, I’m teaching Louisa how to cook.

“The food’s good. Thanks, Louisa,” Dad murmurs before he shovels a bite into his mouth.

At least he’s eating.

He looks much better since we got to see each other.

“It’s not Skylar’s cooking, but it will have to do,” Louisa replies while she loads dishes into the dishwasher. “Do you think she’s watching right now?”

“I don’t know.” Dad glances around the kitchen, everywhere but in the direction of the camera.

“I’m here, Daddy,” I whisper.

“We miss you, Skylar,” Louisa says, assuming I can hear her. “The house is quiet without you, and I might poison your father before you get back.”

I let out a chuckle, a smile spreading over my face.

“Hopefully, we’ll see each other again soon,” Dad says.

I hope so, too.

Maybe I can ask Renzo? Things aren’t as bad as they used to be, and he might let me see Dad once or twice a week.

They stop talking to me, and while Dad continues to eat, Louisa wipes down the counters.

Watching them, my thoughts turn to my problem.

While Renzo’s out, probably killing someone, I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to do.

Honestly, I’m pissed off with myself. I initiated the kiss, and I didn’t stop him when he took things further.

Nope, I laid back and enjoyed the orgasms. He didn’t even get off.

I screwed up, and now I don’t know what to do. I feel like shit for leading him on.

I just wanted to make him care enough to let me go. The last thing I want is for him to fall in love with me and get hurt.

Yeah, let’s ignore your emotions because this is all one-sided from Renzo, right?

I try to shove the thought away, not wanting to inspect my feelings because they don’t matter. I’m not going to be that insane captive who falls for her kidnapper.

I hear the elevator doors open, and when I get up so I can go to my room, Renzo snaps, “Sit your ass down.”

I do as he says and keep my eyes on the TV screen.

When I hear him go up the stairs, my gaze darts to his back, and I watch him until he disappears down the hallway.

There’s an unwelcome emotion in my chest, a mixture of strong attraction and sadness, and once again, I ignore it with all my might.

“Who could that be?” I hear Dad say from the live stream, drawing my attention back to the TV.

I watch as he leaves the kitchen and pops up on the other camera with a view of the foyer.

He opens the door, and I don’t recognize the men. “Can I help?” Dad asks.

“Yes.” One of the men pushes his way into the foyer, and glancing around, he asks, “Are you alone?”

“Hey, you can’t just barge into my house,” Dad snaps.

The man signals with his hand, and two other men head toward the kitchen.

What the hell is happening?

When the man suddenly punches Dad, I jump off the couch and scream, “Renzo!”

“We’re here because you can’t keep your mouth shut,” the man sneers. “What?” Dad gasps.

Louisa’s dragged into the foyer by the other men, and a fourth one blocks the front door.

My hand flies up to cover my mouth, and when Renzo comes flying down the stairs, I point at the TV. “They’re at my house! The men you’re looking for are hurting my dad!”

His eyes flick to the screen while he pulls his phone out to call someone.

I cover my mouth again when I see the man hitting Dad repeatedly.

God. No!

“Elio, take a group of men and get your asses to the Davies mansion. The fuckers from The Harvest are going to kill Harlan and get away. Move!” Renzo orders.

When the man climbs off Dad, I suck in a relieved breath, but then he pulls a gun from behind his back, and my legs go numb.

“No!” I cry as he points the barrel at Louisa.

“You and that fucking doctor couldn’t keep your mouths shut, and now Renzo Torrisi and Dario La Rosa are fucking searching the city for us,” the

man says, his tone threatening and dark. “Where’s the doctor?”

“Dead,” Dad answers, his voice shaky. “Renzo already killed him.”

“This is what happens when you fucking talk,” the man says, the gun still trained on Louisa.

“Wait! Wait!” Dad shouts.

Renzo grabs me, and as a blast comes from the TV, he squashes my face against his chest.

No.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Renzo growls right before he lets go of me and grabs my hand.

I’m yanked toward the elevator and when he presses the button for the doors to open, I glance over my shoulder. I see Louisa lying on the floor with a pool of blood forming around her head while the one with the gun stands in front of Dad.

“I love you, Skylar,” Dad shouts. “It’s been an honor to be your father.

I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Renzo,” I shriek, my face crumbling as tears start to stream down my cheeks.

“Don’t look,” Renzo snaps as he turns to me.

There’s another gunshot, and I see the bullet hit Dad in his chest, and then I’m staring at Renzo’s dark blue vest and white dress shirt.

I just watched Louisa and Dad being killed.

They’re dead.

No.

NoNoNoNoNo.

My breathing hitches repeatedly, no air making it past my throat. “Fuck, Skylar!”

I’m forced into the elevator, and Renzo’s hands frame my face, forcing me to look at him. “Breathe, mia topolina. Come on, breathe.”

I can only shake my head as the horrifying images of Dad and Louisa being killed keep replaying in my mind.

Renzo’s expression turns to the brutal one that always puts the fear of God in me, then he growls, “Breathe!”

I jerk as I suck in air, and then the trauma of what I just saw hits me so hard, it rips a scream from me.

I’m pulled to his chest again, and the next moment, I hear him say, “Elio, I’m on my way. Have the men spread out around the neighborhood

and surrounding areas. I want them fucking caught.”

The elevator doors open, and I’m pulled out, agonizing sobs shuddering from me.

“The fuckers killed Harlan,” Renzo informs Vincenzo and Fabrizio.

I’m ushered into the car, and when Renzo slides in beside me, I get a glimpse of his phone. He has the live stream footage paused on the man who killed Dad and Louisa. He takes a screenshot, then opens a different app where he pastes the photo.

When he makes another call, the trauma pours into me until it feels like it’s suffocating me.

“I just sent you a photo. I want a name.”

After the call ends, his fingers take hold of my chin, and my face is turned toward him.

“Fuck, amo,” he whispers while pulling me against his side. His arms wrap around me, and with his mouth by my hair, he says, “I never wanted this. I’m so fucking sorry.”

The same men who killed Giulio just murdered Dad and Louisa in cold blood.

As the unbearable sorrow rips through me, I realize how Renzo must’ve felt.

I realize why he’s been so ruthless in his pursuit of finding those who played a part in his brother’s death.

The same destructive rage and pain that fueled his thirst for vengeance creeps into every part of my soul.

“They killed them,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’ll find them, amo. I’ll fucking hunt down every last one of them.”

I never thought I’d condone violence. Less than thirty minutes ago, I was entirely against everything Renzo stood for.

But now…

“Please,” I whimper as I burrow closer to him, then sobs shudder through me again. “It h-hurts so m-much, Renzo.”

“I’ve got you, amo,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “Just let it out.”

Shaking my head, I can’t break down. Everything is still too raw, and the shock has a merciless hold on my mind.

There’s nothing I can do but feel as my heart shatters.