Loving Talia: A Dark Mafia Billionaire Romance (Amatucci Family Book 5) Read online

  Going to the kitchen table, I eased down into one of the chairs. Waited for Rafe to make his way into the room. Winced when I saw the way Talia and I had left the place.

  Discarded clothes left a clear and easy to follow path from the front door to the bedroom. Her bra had gotten caught on the doorknob. Her panties were a puddle of black silk and lace against the cream rug of her bedroom.

  She’d been panting for it by the time I arrived. The games those women got up to during their girls’ nights…I was going to be eternally pro girls’ night. Talia got so cranked up on power and sex that getting her to let her claws out was child’s play.

  “Done reminiscing?” the youngest Amatucci brother asked drily.

  I nodded. “Almost. Give me a second.”

  He stabbed me in the leg with a scalpel.

  Fuuuck. I held still under the pain, just like my training had instructed. But damn if I didn’t want to wiggle and scream like a little girl.

  Amatucci’s dark eyes widened slightly at my non-reaction.

  I looked up at him with calm, clear eyes. “I think you’re supposed to be patching me up, not giving me more holes.”

  He smirked. “I get quite a bit of leeway in my job.”

  I snorted. “I have no doubt about that at all. Sadists typically enjoy dealing pain.”

  Rafe looked at me with an odd expression on his face.

  I smiled. “Your family probably doesn’t realize it. Or at least not to the extent that you enjoy the whole pain thing. You’re actually very good at keeping an acceptable expression on your face when you have to.” I shrugged. “I don’t plan to tell them, if that was your worry.”

  He snorted. Got his bag on the table, his equipment spread out. “Keep talking shit you don’t understand, and I’ll be more than happy to do this without any locals.”

  I waved that away. “I need it done fast and well. I don’t care about the pain. Just get it done. I need to get to Russia.”

  He blinked a couple times. Studied me with watchful eyes. Finally, he nodded. He started on my left shoulder. Snickered when he undid the bandage I’d managed to wrap. “Turo must have been pissed.”

  I nodded, breathed through the pain. In the grand scheme of my life, grazing shots weren’t really even top ten. They were more annoying than anything else. The sterilized tools and alcohol swabs though. That was a special kind of pain.

  “Other than the fact that you like to fuck my sister—and if I hear that you’ve been hurting her, I will kill you—and that you work for Penn in counterespionage, I have no idea what you do or who you are.”

  I ran my tongue over my teeth. Thankful he was busy suturing one of the shallow grooves left in my flesh. “What do you want to know?” I didn’t have a problem answering questions. But I never volunteered information. Ever.

  “Are you from New Trenadie?”

  I nodded, winced as he tugged on the fresh stitch. “Yes.”

  “How did you get tangled up with Penn?”

  “Boarding school then college.”

  Amatucci snorted. “Care to expound on that?”

  I smiled. The youngest Amatucci wasn’t an idiot. I’d give him that much. “We were in a freshman orientation class together. Were in the same hall our first semester. Got along. Rented an apartment together once we could live off campus.”

  “Aw, young love.”

  I chuckled. “Not quite. But I didn’t want to kill him more than once a week, which I couldn’t say for the other guys on the hall. So he seemed the best choice. We’ve been friends ever since.”

  “How’d you get into counterespionage?”

  A bit trickier of an answer. “Got recruited by an Alphabet agency after I took an exam in one of my psych classes.”

  He stalled out as he prepped the next wound on my arm. “You were working for the CIA when you were eighteen?” Looking down at me, his dark eyes were wide.

  I shrugged.

  The path of the needle was a little…stabbier that time.

  I didn’t let the pain show. Not to a sadist. Best way to kill their boner was to act like nothing hurt.

  Finishing in silence, he stood back and surveyed his work. “The one in your left thigh is pretty deep. Almost a full centimeter. You’re going to want to go easy. If you rip my stitches, I guarantee the next set will stay.” His grin was wolfish.

  I nodded. Got to my feet. “Any other care instructions?” I glanced at the clock on the wall. Shit. I needed to haul ass to get to the airport.

  “Soap and water to clean them. Don’t pour any alcohol or peroxide in them. Cover them if you’re going to be somewhere that has shit in the air.”

  I stripped out of my clothes as I walked to Talia’s room. I had my clothes from earlier in here. They wouldn’t last forever, but they were better than walking around out in the middle of January with torn pants and a shirt.

  “Keeping a drawer here, Ambright?”

  I snorted softly. “Your sister would rather chop my dick off than let me keep a drawer.”

  “Then you always wear double sets of clothes?”

  I turned back to see him standing in the doorway, one dark brow raised high.

  Shaking my head, I pulled the pants up. “I came with a bag.” I tossed it out to him. “Girls’ night.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand this whole girls’ night shit.”

  I laughed as I pulled the hoodie over my head. “Get a girl you want to fuck invited. Have them play a game. Then you’ll become a big fan.”

  Amatucci snorted. “I think I’ll be fine. I’m not sure I want a girl I’m fucking to get involved with that crew.” He shuddered.

  “Strong, ballsy women aren’t your cup of tea, huh? Want some scared little woman you can intimidate?”

  His brows dipped low over his nose. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a snarl. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Ambright.”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “You do you, bro. But coming from someone who used to like women I could scare into doing what I wanted…having a strong woman being willing to do it because she wants to?” I smiled. “A million times better.” I shoved my wrecked clothes in the bag and made for the front door.

  “Maybe because you were soft on them.” He crossed his arms over chest. Glared at me.

  “Or maybe you haven’t found one who actually likes what you have to offer. Trust me, Amatucci, there are all kinds out there. A little kink for each and everyone of us.” I pulled the door open. “Ho, ho, ho, and merry Christmas.”

  I trotted down the hallway. Each wound barked at me with every step, but it was manageable. None of them would cloud my focus.

  Rushing down to the garage, I threw my shit in the backseat and slid behind the wheel. I would have just enough time to grab one of my go bags and a set of documents before I needed to be at the airport.

  Thankfully, Raphael Amatucci hadn’t bothered to try to join me. I didn’t need the Amatuccis any more angry at me. And putting one of their siblings down would no doubt earn me their wrath.

  Chapter 5 – Talia

  I woke to a face full of water. Coughing and spitting so I could actually breathe proved a more difficult chore than I had thought possible. Might have something to do with the black cloth they had over my eyes.

  Assholes.

  I needed to figure out what these douchewaffles wanted so I could go home. Hopefully still alive. If this was a bid for ransom, then they’d caught themselves a live one.

  How they’d known I would be vulnerable was another thing I needed answered. If we had another mole in our organization, I was going to start breaking faces.

  As soon as I was free.

  The cover over my head was ripped free. Along with a chunk of hair. Just as the bright lights stabbed my retinas, a huge fist collided with my right cheek.

  Biting back the cry of pain, I fought to remain conscious. Blacking out so often wasn’t really good for long term brain health. Or mental health. Granted, torture wa
sn’t really high up on my list of activities to increase memorization either.

  Sliding my tongue over my teeth, I was thankful none of them had come loose.

  I spit out the mouthful of blood. Hoped it landed on one of their shoes. Blinking against the bright lights again, I lifted my face. Looked around.

  Standing around the room that looked smaller than my office back home was a handful of men branched out in a slight curve. I recognized at least three of them from the plane. Scar Dude was here. So was Golden Eyes. The last one I hadn’t given a name, but I figured to call him Asswipe just for shits and giggles. I had to keep myself entertained after all.

  “Ah, gentlemen. We meet again. I’m Talia Amatucci, but I think you all already know that. And you are?” I lifted my brows, shot them a winning smile.

  Well, it would have been winning if it hadn’t been full of blood.

  Golden Eyes’ mouth twitched the slightest degree before he got control of it again. Scar Dude looked like he wanted to use the massive knife strapped to his thigh and gut me from tit to clit, then do unspeakable things to my insides. Asswipe…well, he just looked dirty and unhappy.

  The two newcomers didn’t smile, didn’t laugh, didn’t smirk. Hell, I wondered if they were deaf or just dead inside. I figured it wouldn’t be too long before I saw a spark of life.

  Probably when I was bleeding out.

  One of the new guys, a tall man with features carved from granite, hard gray eyes, and muscles enough to look almost deformed, stepped forward. He lifted his hand.

  I fought not to flinch. Not to dance out of reach. I couldn’t say I was one hundred percent successful, but since I hadn’t peed my pants, I was going to call it a win.

  His finger gripped my chin in a steely hold. “We know who you are, Ms. Amatucci. Do you know why you’re here?” he asked. His voice was soft, quiet.

  Shaking my head, I swallowed. “No. Not a clue.” I didn’t relax. Didn’t warm to the gentleness he wielded.

  He nodded, a single dip of his chin. “This is good. You will remain here until we are satisfied.” Dropping my jaw, he turned.

  “Wait. Aren’t you going to tel—”

  His giant fist smashed into the side of my face. From the feel of it, I had to go with the thought that he’d been the one to hurt me the first time. “Do not speak. You will be beaten every time you talk without permission.”

  “But I—”

  His left hand came up, delivered a solid cross to the opposite side of my face. I could have sworn I felt a bone shift in my cheek. Agonizing pain lit up my brain as my eyes started to tear up.

  “Do you understand?” he asked. His tone hadn’t changed. Hadn’t risen over a low, intimate murmur. But I understood.

  I nodded, whimpered at the pain the motion brought.

  “Good. Arkady, take her to her cell,” he said without looking at his men.

  Golden Eyes stepped forward, a bland smile on his face.

  Gathering my courage, I voiced the last question rambling around in my head. “What’s your name?”

  Arkady’s golden eyes widened slightly as he stepped forward. He took my arm in his hard grip.

  The man in charge smiled. “You have courage.” He nudged Arkady out of the way. Slammed his fist into my belly like a piston on an engine.

  Catching my hair in a tight fist, he hoisted my head as I struggled to breathe around the new arrangement of my internal organs. Shit, this fucker can hit. Tears leaked from the corners of my swelling eyes.

  “They call me Zmeya, little one.” With that, he dropped my hair. As my head fell, he brought his knee up into my face.

  Something crunched and shattered in my face. Blood ran freely, so did the tears. But I kept back any groans or moans. They wouldn’t wrench those from me. Those, they had to earn.

  Fuckers.

  Someone grabbed my arm, pulled me behind him. Both eyes swollen, unable to breathe well, I tripped after him. Hoped it was Arkady. At least he hadn’t done me any damage thus far.

  Probably his game plan. Be nice to the woman, get her to open up. Be friends. Get her to spill her secrets.

  He was barking up the wrong tree if he thought I was that easy. All I needed was a couple hours sleep and I would be ready to ask more questions. Right after I moved my intestines and spleen back to where they belonged.

  Damn it. I really should have listened to Rafe’s anatomy lessons better. I didn’t really know where my spleen belonged. Stupid organ. Ruining my plans to live through this nightmare.

  “Pick up your feet, suka. I will not carry you. I would be willing to drag you though,” Arkady said.

  What did it say about me that I already recognized this man’s voice? He was nothing but a thug, just like the rest of them. Someone to try to pump for information. Someone to turn to my side of things.

  Trying to do as he demanded, I straightened as best as I could. Searing, greasy waves of pain zinged through my middle. Before I left here, I was going to show Zmeya what it felt like to have a boulder plow into his belly.

  Through the slits of my eyelids, I was able to make out shapes in the fuzzy field of my vision. A long hallway that seemed never ending, it was lined with doorways on either side. Roughly fifteen steps between each door.

  Over the rough soughing of my breath, I didn’t hear anyone else screaming or crying. Not even a whimper. So hopefully I was the only captive down here. That would make doing what I needed to do easier. They couldn’t use anyone else against me.

  Bless Chase’s Goddess for that much.

  We finally came to the end of the hallway. The last door on the right was apparently going to be my luxury accommodations for the next little while. That asshole Foster better be looking for me. It was his fault I was in this stupid mess anyway.

  Doing all those little ‘missions’ for him. Missing out on helping Turo and Nik. He was going to die. Slowly. Torturously. By my hand.

  Arkady pushed the heavy steel door open on a loud creak.

  Mentally I pouted at the idea of being able to escape from this room in anything closely approximating stealthy. That squeal of metal on metal was enough to wake the dead. Damn it.

  Instead of pushing me like I’d prepared myself for, he walked me through the doorway. Shut it behind himself.

  CREEEEAK.

  Shit. Fuck. Damn. This was it. The moment I’d been actively pushing from my mind. He was going to rape me.

  You got this, Talia Maria. You know it’s coming. Find that spot in your mind. Go there, be safe.

  Except the breath was backing up in my bruised lungs. The fear was flooding adrenaline through my system, so I felt as strong as a lion and weak as a feral kitten. What little vision I had left was swimming at the edges. Flashes of whites and grays.

  He pushed me back on the bed. “Sit.”

  I curled up in a ball as best I could. Not even the deep, driving ache in my torso stopped me. “Even if you rape me, you won’t break me.” The mangled flesh of my inner cheeks caught on my teeth, adding to the wash of pain inside me.

  Arkady stopped in the middle of the room. He had a blanket in his hands. “I don’t plan to rape you.”

  His accent had changed slightly. No longer the hard sounds of Russian. I couldn’t place the tones, but something wasn’t right here.

  My head started to swim, my mind blinking on and off as if the channel on the TV wasn’t clear. I shook it. Needed to be able to think clearly. Make plans. Start healing.

  I toppled to the side. Felt the edge of the bed give way to empty space.

  Just before I crashed to the floor, two strong arms cradled me against an equally hard chest. His slight, ‘oof,’ rushed by my ear.

  Was he trying to make me like him? Trying to make it easier for him to rape me? Trying to buy my cooperation with decency?

  “I’m going to put you on the bed.” His heavy Russian accent was back. “I will cover you with the blanket. Get some sleep.”

  Putting actions to his words, I was lai
d gently on the mattress that groaned under my weight. A scratchy blanket was flicked out over me. A soft hand ran over the heated curve of my cheek. “Sleep.”

  As if he’d put me under some kind of spell, I felt my eyes sliding closed. Felt my mind drift away on a sigh.

  My last thought was one of joy that at least I wasn’t unconscious this time.

  Chapter 6 – Arkady

  Get your shit together, man. You’ve worked way too hard to get this high to blow this over a single skirt. I nodded to myself.

  I had to stick around for a little bit. It would raise too many brows if I left immediately. The sick fuckers who called themselves my brothers would never find anything in my behavior that would make them look at me harder.

  Scrubbing a hand down my face, I watched her sleep. Under the swelling and fractured bones, I could see that she was pretty. The photo of her I’d studied for the abduction helped shape those curves and lines in my mind as well.

  When she wasn’t sassing people bigger than her, I could practically see the ready tension in her body. The desire to jump in with both feet. That could get her killed. Very easily.

  It also made for some fucking fire in bed. Most women here were too timid, too broken by the life of being sex workers for the family. My hand worked better, especially when the blank eyes and fake moans made me feel like a monster.

  Leaning against the door, I kept a close eye on my mental clock. I couldn’t stay too long, but leaving too quick was just as bad. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I checked my messages. Went through my email.

  Nothing really important or pressing. Just the run of the mill gray shit that filled my days. And nights.

  Talia moaned in her sleep as she huddled under the single blanket. The sound was soft, almost as if she’d tried to catch it. She pushed her face into the bare mattress. A low hiss of pain slid through the air.

  I wanted to wrap her up in my arms. Make her feel better. Help her heal.

  Which were thoughts that would get me killed. Faster than a moth to the flame. And I didn’t have a death wish.