Mafia Crown: Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance, page 3
"Theresa."
I squeak. "Y…yes," I stutter as I bite down on my lower lip.
"Turn around and face me."
My steps slow until I come to a halt. I draw in a breath, then turn and meet his gaze. Those blue eyes, so like Xander’s…yet not. The look in them is so much more intense, like I have his entire attention. Did Xander ever look at me that way? Like I was the only one in the world and he couldn’t take his attention off of me?
"Why are you here?" He scowls, "What do you want from me?"
I want you to be Xander. I want you to be the man I loved and lost, the one who I had hoped would one day love me back. The one who my heart still belongs to because I’ve had a crush on him for so long that I no longer know how to go on without him.
"I…" I twist my fingers together, "I want you to get better soon."
"Is that all?"
No.
No.
"Yes," I nod. "You saved my life and I don’t like seeing you in pain because of it."
"You have a soft heart," his lips twist, "but I am not sure it warranted my taking a bullet for you."
I gape.
"You see, I am not the kind of man who’d do something so selfless. And I definitely would not put my life at stake for someone else, especially not someone who—"
I narrow my gaze on him, "Someone who?"
"Someone like you, who’s clearly, not the kind of woman I am normally attracted to."
I open and shut my mouth, "Jesus, are you hearing yourself? For someone who can’t even pee by himself at the moment, you sure have a big ego."
"Not the only thing that’s big." He smirks.
I throw up my hands, "You are a horrible man, and your jokes are sexist."
"So I have been told." His grin widens.
Goddamn it, he’s even more attractive when he smiles. His features light up in a way Xander’s never did. Xander had been more introspective, more troubled about the state of the world, more brooding about his own internal conflict, while Axel… There’s a recklessness to him that comes through in the gleam in his eyes. In how he sprawls back in the bed, making the entire space feel too small for him. How he sucks up all the oxygen in the air, how he draws my attention to his face, to his chest, the length of his body partially hidden under the sheet. Even though his muscles will need rehab to regain his strength, thanks to the coma he’s been in… Still, there’s an aura of power that to clings to him, a cloak of dominance that seems to cover him from head to toe, a lazy authority that oozes from his very pores. It’s as if he’s got the best of all the Sovrano brothers, and more. All that charisma locked away and ready to be unleashed on some poor unsuspecting mortal like me. Hell, without even trying, he’s positively overpowering me… How the hell will he be when he’s on his feet and dressed to kill? I’ll probably combust if I am in his presence then. Not that I am not all hot and bothered now. A bead of sweat runs down between my breasts and I shiver.
"Hey." He snaps his fingers and I blink. "You okay?" he asks.
"Don’t I look okay?" I demand.
"No need to get defensive; I was just being polite."
"I see you are awake?" Both Axel and I turn toward the door.
Luca swaggers in, then throws himself down on the chair I recently vacated. "This one," he jerks his chin in my direction, "deserves a medal. Not only has she been by your bedside since you were brought out of surgery, but the first thing she did after regaining consciousness earlier was ask about you."
My cheeks flush. "I was simply doing what was right," I mutter.
"But you might be wasting your attentions on the wrong guy," Luca warns.
I glance from Luca to Axel, whose face is wiped of all expression. If that offended him, he isn’t showing it. Damn, but it’s so difficult to get a read on this man. He seems to keep everything bottled up inside… Except for his ego, of course, which pushes him to make stupid remarks like he had earlier.
"I’m not sure that’s a nice thing to say," I scowl at Luca.
"It’s a fact." He raises a shoulder. "Best to say what’s on my mind, right?"
"Don’t let us stop you," Axel says dryly.
"You couldn’t, even if you wanted to." Luca looks him up and down pointedly, "How long is it going to be before you get on your feet again?"
"The doctor thinks it’s going to be at least a month of intensive rehab. I bet him I’ll be walking again in two weeks."
"Two weeks?" I turn on him, "You were unconscious for two weeks. No way, can you regain your muscle strength and get back on your feet that quickly."
"You challenging me, Sunshine?" He drawls.
And whoa, what’s with that nickname? I shoot Luca a glance and find him absorbed in something on his phone.
"I am not challenging you." I turn to Axel. "It’s just," I lower my voice, "I don’t want you to push yourself so hard that you end up hurting yourself."
"You took care of that already, didn’t you? Doubt I can hurt myself further."
My heart slams into my chest. I stare at him and feel the tell-tale pressure of tears behind my eyes.
"You really are a selfish prick, you know that? I was just worried about you—"
"Don’t be." He reclines further back into the pillows, looking for all the world like he’s the master of all he surveys. "I can take care of myself."
"I have no doubt. It’s just, you are hurt and—"
"I’ll mend. I have strong healing powers."
"I am sure, but—"
"I understand Xander is dead," he drawls. "Did you know him well?"
I nod. "He was, he was..." Truth is, I am not sure what he was to me. Not my boyfriend, not my lover... I am not even sure he reciprocated my affections, but since I had first set eyes on him, I had been sure that our destinies were interlinked. I had dreamt of the day that I would marry him.
"Did you love him?" Axel drums his fingers on the bed. "Is that why you want to take care of me, because I look so similar to him?"
"I... I did love him," I admit, "but that's not why I am here."
"Oh?" He tilts his head, "Why else would you spend so much time by the bedside of a perfect stranger taking care of him?"
"Maybe it's because you saved my life and this is my way of thanking you?" I tip up my chin.
He arches an eyebrow, "By spending every moment of the last two weeks at my side? I think not."
I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head.
"I am not him, Theresa. I never will be him, so if you think by hanging around me you can transfer the fixation you had on him to me, then you are mistaken."
A hot sensation stabs at my chest. My heart feels like it’s going to break into a million pieces. My stomach hurts and I fold my arms around myself. "You’re right. You’re not Xander. Xander would never have been this unkind to me." I swallow down the tears that threaten to overflow. "I must have been crazy to think that you could have ever held a candle to him. You…you’re a terrible man. You may look like him, but you’ll never be h…him." My voice hitches. Don’t cry, don’t you dare cry before this horrible man. I turn and rush out of the door.
4
Axel
"Couldn’t have toned it down, eh?"
I hear Luca speak, but can’t turn my gaze off her retreating figure. Goddam it, why did I have to say that? So what, if I had been feeling aggravated and angry and wanting to lash out at someone? It just so happened that she was there and she, apparently, cares for me, even if she doesn’t know me at all. She thinks she knows me, and that’s even worse. I am nothing like this Xander chap. So what, he was my triplet. We have nothing in common.
He didn’t know poverty, or what it felt like to see your mother whore herself out. She hadn’t been accepted into her own family because of me, and she hadn’t been very good at fending for herself. When you were a Mafia princess brought up in the lap of luxury, you had no idea how to take care of yourself, let alone your child. Despite her shortcomings, she had managed to put a roof over my head and food in my belly. By the time I was sixeen, she was dead. That’s when I began to carve out my own empire. Guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, in that sense.
My mother had never told me about my father’s side of the family or the insignificant fact that I had been one of triplets. Something she obviously knew, but for whatever reason, she kept hidden from me. All she’d told me was that she’d had a falling out with my father, had left him, and her own family hadn’t accepted her back. Not after having bedded their enemy and falling pregnant with his child. She had refused to go back to them for help, no matter how difficult it had been for her. Another reason I had been so clear that I was going to make it on my own. Without help from anybody. Definitely not my mother’s family. So, if they think I’m going to go all sentimental on them, they are going to be sadly mistaken. All I intend to do is play along until I am back on my feet and then… Well, I am going to get out of here.
"Axel, hey, you okay?" Luca calls out.
"Why wouldn’t I be?" I growl. "I am laid up in this bed with you for company. What more could I want?"
"You sent away the only person here who is sympathetic toward you."
And fuck, if I don’t hate myself for it. Why is it so difficult for me to accept her concern? Why do I feel threatened by the utter selflessness with which she wants to care for me? Why the hell can’t I remember stepping in front of her and taking the bullet as she claims I did? Why would I do that anyway? I’ve always put my survival ahead of anyone else’s… So really, it makes no sense that I would do that.
I rub the back of my head and my arm trembles.
I hate being so damn weak. The doctor who’d examined me had told me that it’s a miracle I had managed to get on my feet and avoid the intruder who had broken in. By all accounts, I shouldn’t have been able to move my limbs without assistance, not after being unconscious for more than two weeks. But the adrenaline pouring through my veins had propelled me to fight back, and thank fuck I had, else I’d be in a coffin by now. At least, I’d have family at my funeral… My breath catches. The fuck am I thinking? These guys… While they may be blood relations, are definitely not my family. They are… I am not sure, exactly, what to call them… Acquaintances, at best. Enemies, at worst. More probably, the latter.
I push myself up to sitting position, then swing my legs over the side of the bed.
"The fuck you up to, brother?" Luca rises to his feet. "What do you think you’re doing?"
I place my feet on the ground, push up to standing position. My thighs burn, my calves hurt, and sweat breaks out on my forehead. "Fuck." My knees tremble. Luca closes the distance between us and grabs my shoulder but I shake it off. "Keep the fuck away from me, asshole."
"Hey," he holds up his hands, "just trying to help."
"Well don’t," I grab the edge of the bed to steady myself, then holding onto it for support, I take a step forward, then another. My muscles protest, my arm hurts, and my head throbs with such intensity that the edges of my vision begin to darken. I take another step and my entire body sways.
"You’re a stubborn motherfucker," Luca says mildly.
"Didn’t get to where I am by being lazy," I say through gritted teeth. I take another step and my knees give way. I topple forward and hit the floor. "Fuck," I growl. Pain shoots through my chest, my arms. My legs feel like they have turned to jelly. I manage to turn over on my back and lay there panting. "The fuck, asshole?" I glare at him, "You could have, at least, stopped me from falling."
"Thought you didn’t want my help." He smirks, then holds out his hand.
"Fuck off," I grab the side of the bed, pull, but my muscles refuse to cooperate. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." I grit my teeth, hold onto the side of the bed and push up…only to fall back panting.
"Come on, don’t be an idiot." Luca lowers his arm until his palm is in my line of sight. "Take my hand, asshole," he drawls, "it’s not a sign of weakness to take help when you need it most."
I glower at his palm, then raise my hand and manage to grasp his. He pulls me to my feet and I lean my hip against the bed. He releases me, and I fall back onto the bed and lay there panting. "Fuck, I need to get back on my feet."
"Keep pushing yourself like that and you’ll do more harm than good."
"We’ll see about that."
"Do you really think you are going to be back on your feet in two weeks?" He arches an eyebrow.
"That’s the plan." I haul myself up the mattress, then collapse with my head on the pillow. Sweat drenches my shoulders and the hospital gown sticks to my chest.
"Want some more water?" Luca holds out the glass of water with the fucking straw—I hate that straw. When I am better, I am going to ensure I am never near another straw for my entire bloody life. For now, though, I lean forward and take a sip of water, then another, until I have chugged down all of it. He places the empty glass back on the bedside table.
"You know, you are as pig-headed as the rest of us."
"Spare me the comparisons," I growl. "I am not one of you. I’ll never be one of you—"
"Is that why you wanted to kill one of us? Because you hold a grudge against our family?"
5
Axel
Michael prowls into the room, followed by Christian and three men who I don’t recognize, but with their dark hair and features that resemble Michael’s, they must be some of the seven brothers Theresa alluded to.
Michael walks over to stand at the foot of the bed. Christian comes to a halt next to Luca. The biggest of the new arrivals stalks over to stand on the side of the bed opposite Luca.
"I’m Massimo." He tilts his head.
"And I’m Seb." One of the other guys jerks his chin as he comes to a stop next to Massimo.
"Adrian," the third guy offers. He walks over to stand between Michael and Seb. The brothers surround me. If they plan to show me how outnumbered I am, then they are not succeeding. What they don’t realize is that I do best when I am challenged. When the odds are stacked against me, I rise to the occasion—no pun intended.
A fourth guy closes the door behind them, no doubt, standing guard outside.
"Why did you threaten Aurora?" Christian folds his arms over his chest.
"Aurora?" I frown. "Who’s Aurora?"
"Don’t pretend you don’t know her," Christian snaps. "You tracked her down in London and threatened her family. It’s because of you that she returned to Sicily. It’s you who followed us to the Lodge in Cortina and shot at me."
"Did I get you?"
"No," he growls.
"Damn," I smirk, "so sorry; I’ll try better next time."
Christian takes a step forward and Michael slaps his arm in front of his chest.
"You’re hurt and disoriented." Michael frowns at me, “It’s normal, since you’ve just come out of a coma, but you are not doing yourself any favors by antagonizing us."
"Is that right?" I tilt my head, "I am not afraid of you guys."
"And you shouldn’t be," Michael agrees. "Like it or not, you are one of us. You are a Sovrano by blood. Not to mention you resemble a brother we lost who we dearly loved, so my preference is to not hurt you."
"You can try," I scoff. "I may resemble your brother, but I don’t consider myself one of you."
"Why else were you trying to hurt one of us?" Seb growls. "You must have known who we were. You sure knew about our movements. You knew we were at a family getaway when you came after Christian. Who put you up to that?" He narrows his gaze on me, "It’s time you came up with some answers."
"Even if I knew the answers," I hold up my hand, which doesn’t tremble this time, thank fuck, "I wouldn’t tell you."
"Wrong answer." Luca scowls at me. "You’re either a fool or you know something we don’t."
"And you don’t strike me as a fool," Massimo drawls. "So why don’t you tell us what you were after?"
"Because I don’t remember it?" I glare at their faces. And fuck, if I can ignore the resemblance to my features again. It’s disconcerting—this sense that they are my family overwhelms me. My head begins to hurt and I close my eyes, "Look, the more I push it, the less I am going to remember. It’s best I rest and get my strength back. That way, hopefully, my memories will resurface. Not that I am planning to share any of that with you—" Christian makes noise at the back of his throat. I grin without opening my eyes. "Unless you ask nicely, and maybe not even then."
The frustration that pours off of the guys makes me smile wider. I hold the cards here, assholes, and don’t forget it.
"Besides, once I am on my feet again, I could try to track back on my movements, and perhaps, that might jiggle something in my head?"
"Already on it," Luca states.
I open one eye. "What do you mean?"
"Got a couple of guys making enquiries about your whereabouts."
"N-i-c-e." I smirk. "Good to know, at least, one of you is thinking on your feet."
Luca’s features harden. His brow pinches. I can’t stop the chuckle that rips out of me. Ouch! Now my throat hurts, but fuck that. It’s worth it just to see another of my brother’s grow hot under the collar. And f-u-c-k, stop thinking of them as your family, asshole. You don’t do family, remember?
"Too bad you’re not on your feet," Massimo holds up his fist, "or I might have to knock some sense into you."
"You’ve got to stop taking this older brother thing so seriously." I yawn.
Massimo’s brow furrows, "Is this guy for real, or what? Maybe I should forget about the fact that he’s recovering from a bullet, which he did take for one of our own, and—"
"Hold on; back up." I scowl. "What do you mean ‘one of our own’? Are you talking about—"
