Held Firm: A Dark Mafia Romance, page 1
HELD FIRM
MAGGIE CARPENTER
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Afterword
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Copyright © 2021 by Stormy Night Publications and Maggie Carpenter
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Carpenter, Maggie
Held Firm
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Shutterstock/LightField Studios and iStock/rabbit75_ist
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
CHAPTER 1
Stirred from his nap by a sudden chill, Nick Vincelli opened his eyes and spied gray clouds blotting out the sun. Sitting up and glancing at his watch, he discovered he’d been dozing on the sand for almost an hour. When he’d run into the water for his daily swim the weather had been hot and sunny. After pushing himself to exhaustion, he’d dragged his weary body back to the sand and collapsed on his large beach towel. But now gentle waves had become choppy whitecaps, and ominous dark clouds loomed overhead.
Rising to his feet, he was about to head up to his beach house when a woman in the rough surf caught his attention. She was trying to swim parallel to the shore and she appeared to be having trouble. With conditions worsening and no lifeguards on the desolate beach, he picked up his towel and walked hastily to the water’s edge. But just as he was about to run in to offer help, she suddenly stopped, stared back down the beach, then abruptly ducked beneath the waves.
Darting his eyes around, Nick spied a heavy-set man dressed in a bright yellow shirt hurrying from an impressive home. As the man paused to peer through binoculars, Nick noticed a pot belly hanging over a pair of ill-fitting white shorts. He grinned. The man resembled an oversized canary, but when he abruptly lowered the field glasses and started yelling, Nick’s pulse ticked up.
Quickly turning his attention back to the woman, he found her frantically fighting her way through the rough surf toward him, and he was startled to see her wearing only a pair of shorts and a bra. The man was still yelling, and as he watched him march in his direction, Nick realized she must have bolted away before she could grab a top. A private detective, Nick knew domestic violence was fraught with danger. Emotions ran high, and people were unpredictable.
“Please, please,” the woman called, her voice desperate and breathless as she splashed through the shallow water toward him, “you have to help me. I must get away from that man!”
Her long, wet dark hair falling around her face accentuated her high cheekbones, almond-shaped deep green eyes, and full, pouty lips.
“Please, you have to help me,” she repeated, staggering up to him.
“I think you’d better tell me what’s going on,” he replied, quickly wrapping his towel around her shivering body.
“There’s n-no t-time,” she stammered with chattering teeth. “You d-don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Give me something, anything.”
“I will, I p-promise, just g-get m-me out of here.”
“You there!” the man bellowed. “Police. Hold her.”
Jerking his head around, Nick saw him awkwardly striding toward them holding up an open wallet, as his bright yellow shirt flapped in the wind.
“Is he a cop?” Nick demanded, quickly turning back to her. “Yes or no?”
“Yes, b-but he’s a c-crook. P-Please, I’m b-begging you. “
“Stay here,” Nick ordered, instinctively believing her. “Don’t run, don’t do anything, just stay here.”
“B-but he’s d-dangerous. I’m s-scared.”
“I know, but you can’t run,” Nick said again, leaning forward and staring at her intently. “If you want my help, you need to stay put.”
“Ok-kay.”
Pivoting in the sand, he walked up to meet the overweight man, but as they drew closer Nick narrowed his eyes. With a flattened nose and a scar across his right eyebrow, the alleged cop looked more like a thug who had lost one too many fights.
“Nick Vincelli,” Nick said, studying the man’s grizzled, unattractive face.
“Detective Matteus Anderson,” the stranger exclaimed as he charged forward, “and I have no time for conversation.”
“Wait,” Nick said firmly, quickly stepping in front of him to block his path, “she’s scared to death.”
“Yeah, well, for good reason,” the cop gruffly retorted, pausing his step. “Tell me your name again.”
“Nick Vincelli.”
“Nick Vincelli,” the man repeated as if memorizing it. “Okay, Nick, you can call me Matt. Now as I was saying—”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Nick said hastily, “but if she’s under arrest, why isn’t she at the police station? And the house you’re in, I know the owners. It’s about to be put on the market. None of this makes any sense.”
“Hey, I don’t have to tell you shit,” the man growled.
“No, you don’t, but after you leave, I’ll be jogging back to my house and calling the local station. I have a few friends there.”
Nick’s bluff held the ring of truth. He had close ties to the force. He was also in great shape. Taking down the offensive man would be child’s play, and they both knew it.
“Okay, I’ll tell you this much,” the detective said reluctantly. “She’s a key witness in an important case, and it’s my job to keep her out of harm’s way, but she’s not making it easy. I need to get her back inside before anyone sees her, and now, thanks to your interference, I’ll have to move her again.”
Nick laughed.
“What’s funny?” the man asked angrily. “You think this is a fucking joke?”
“Who’s going to see her? Look around. Do you see anyone? This beach is deserted, not to mention the five homes here are empty, except mine, of course.”
“Why do you think we chose it?” the detective retorted, pulling out his wallet and flashing his badge again. “See this? Regardless of what she might have told you, she’s under police protection and I have to take her back to the house. It’s a crime to interfere with an officer doing his duty. I can call for backup, and I will if you don’t get out of my way.”
As the wallet disappeared back into the man’s baggy white shorts, Nick’s mind raced. The girl was truly terrified, and while the cop’s credentials appeared to be genuine, something wasn’t right.
“Detective Anderson—”
“I told you, call me Matt.”
“Okay, Matt,” Nick said, wondering why the detective wanted to be on a first-name basis. “Breaking the law is the last thing I want to do, but she’s extremely upset. Give me a minute to talk to her. I think I’ll be able to calm her down.”
“What makes you think you can manage that?”
“I’m not sure I can, but don’t you think it’s worth a try?”
“Okay. Just don’t take all day. It’s getting cold out here, and there’s some nasty weather coming in.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And don’t let her bullshit you. She’s here for her own safety. Understood?”
“Understood,” Nick replied, thinking the more the detective claimed he was trying to protect the girl, the more contrived he sounded.
Turning to walk back to her, Nick found she’d moved further away. Even though he’d told her to stay where she was, he was glad. If they kept their voices low, they wouldn’t be overheard. Hurrying up to her, he stood directly in front of her, purposely blocking Matt’s view.
“You’re not going to help me?” she whimpered, staring up at him, her huge green eyes brimming with tears.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But I can tell. He’s told you a bunch of crap.”
“Exactly, and I know that’s what it was. Crap. My name’s Nick Vincelli. What’s yours, and what’s going on?”
“So you are going to—?”
“Just tell me,” he murmured urgently, cutting her off.
“My name’s Bianca, and things are bad, really, really bad,” she replied in a hoarse whisper, “but I can’t possibly explain it in sixty seconds.”
“Your last name?”
“Uh…”
“For fuck’s sake, tell me.”
“Albertini. Bianca Albertini.”
Her name was vaguely familiar.
“Listen,” she continued quickly, “if I manage to slip out tonight, can you take me to a hotel someplace away from here? Far away, like an hour or two. You can just leave me, you don’t have to stay.”
“Only if you promise to give me the whole story,” he said solemnly, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into, “and only if you’re sure it’s safe to try to leave again? How many guys are watching you?”
“Just that bastard until tomorrow; that’s why I have to escape today, and I think I know how I can do it.”
“Okay, Bianca, listen carefully. On the side of my cottage facing the neighbor, there’s a door. I’ll leave it unlocked,” he replied, though taken aback by her sudden transformation. The shaking, frightened girl who had staggered from the water had suddenly become a confident young woman with a plan. “Keep the towel around you,” he added quickly, not wanting the coarse detective to see her in just a bra and shorts.
“Thank you, I was going to ask if I could. The wind is so cold.”
“Time’s up!” the detective shouted.
Looking over his shoulder, Nick saw the oafish man lumbering toward them.
“She’ll go back with you, no problem,” Nick said, placing his arm against Bianca’s back and guiding her forward.
“You know, Nick, this is an isolated spot,” the detective remarked, fixing Nick with an unwavering gaze. “There’s no telling what could happen. I’m told there are rip currents, even sharks.” Then lowering his voice, he added, “You take care of your business, and I’ll take care of mine. Are we clear?”
Though he wanted to flatten the thug’s nose even more, Nick wordlessly nodded his head.
“Batten down the hatches,” the cop continued as he grabbed Bianca’s arm and started walking away. “It looks like this will be one helluva night.”
“I sure hope so,” Nick mumbled, watching the brutish man head back to the large, modern home, “but what the fuck have I just agreed to?”
“Try that shit again, Bianca, and you’ll be fucking sorry,” Matt warned ominously as he bustled her across the sand.
“Lay one finger on me and you know my father will hunt you down, and we both know you’ll end up being the one who’s sorry. In fact, I’m going to tell him all kinds of things. Yeah, Matt, you’ll end up regretting this bullshit, and that’s a promise.”
“Hah. With the money I’m getting I’ll be on a private jet flying to the other side of the world by the time he sees your face again. He’ll never find me.”
“If you’re so sure about that, why haven’t you messed with me?”
“Keep it up and I fucking will,” Matt hissed as they reached the oversized patio. “Now get inside.”
As he opened the sliding glass door, Bianca hurried past him and ran across the chic living room to the stairs. Taking them two at a time, she hurried into her bedroom, closed and locked the door, then let the towel fall from her shoulders.
“Thank God,” she whispered under her breath.
Desperate for a shower, she moved into the bathroom, turned on the faucets, then hastily peeled off her wet clothes and stepped into the stall. She hadn’t wanted to give her handsome rescuer her real name, but as the hot water streamed over her, she knew she’d done the right thing. If she’d lied, and he’d found out, she would have lost his trust, and for the moment his trust was all she had. Letting out a long, relieved sigh and closing her eyes, she began to shampoo her hair and think about her handsome hero.
He had a surfer’s tan and the body to go with it. Wide shoulders, a six-pack she could scrub her clothes on, and muscled arms. His chiseled features and dark brown eyes reminded her of a runway model she’d once drooled over in New York. But the most surprising thing about him was his confidence. He hadn’t seemed the least intimidated by Matteus, though the crooked detective not only carried himself with a menacing air, his ice blue eyes were filled with malice.
Rinsing out the shampoo and stepping from the shower, she lifted a towel from the rack and began to dry herself off. The hint of a smile crossed her lips. For hours she’d been praying fervently for help, but she never expected it would be offered in the form of a gorgeous guy. Even his name was sexy. Nick Vincelli. But if she was to escape, she had to stay focused. Getting to know him better… that would come later.
Back inside his small beach house, Nick had dropped a pod in his coffeemaker, and was watching the hot, dark liquid fill his mug. Adding cream, he carried it to his desk, placed it carefully next to his laptop, then sat down and entered Bianca’s name into the search engine. News reports instantly appeared on his screen. After reading the opening sentences of the first one, he leaned back in his chair.
Things are bad, really, really bad.
“You weren’t kidding,” he muttered as her words echoed through his head. “Fuck. Am I’m completely screwed?”
CHAPTER 2
The threatening weather swept in from the ocean with fierce winds and torrential rain. Standing at the picture window looking out at the dark night, Nick wondered if the storm was a harbinger of the days ahead. Fate had thrown him a curve ball, one he could never have seen coming.
Bianca Albertini was the daughter of legendary mob boss Lorenzo Albertini. The tough gangster was based in Las Vegas, and according to the news reports Nick had read on the internet, Bianca had disappeared several days before. He assumed she’d been kidnapped by the loathsome detective, but who in their right mind would snatch the daughter of a feared and powerful man like Lorenzo Albertini?
Nick had no illusions about the danger he’d be facing if he tried to whisk her back to her father in Las Vegas. The people who had snatched her would move heaven and earth to get her back. Or kill her. She’d be able to tell her father exactly who they were. But in spite of the risks, Nick felt compelled to help, and he was uniquely equipped to deal with the perilous situation. It was almost as if fate had thrown her into his path.
Glancing up at the clock on the fireplace mantel he saw it was almost eleven o’clock. He was hoping and praying Bianca would show up soon. It wouldn’t be easy to trudge across the beach in the storm, and it seemed to be gaining strength. But on the plus side, it was the perfect night for a getaway. Anyone trying to follow him would have a tough time, and the Porsche Macan was packed and ready to hit the road.
Moving into the kitchen, he made a sandwich and brewed a cup of coffee, then filled two thermos travel mugs. As eleven o’clock came and went, he began to worry. By midnight he was sure something was wrong.
Striding to the window, he flicked on the porch light. The storm was at a fevered pitch. Possibilities raced through his mind. She could have fallen and sprained her ankle, or worse, the goon had caught her trying to escape.
Deeply disturbed by the thought, he hurriedly scribbled a note in case she showed up, then walked quickly into the garage, pulled on his all-weather jacket, and climbed into his Macan. The Porsche SUV was a powerful speed demon and Nick loved it, but turning onto the empty street he didn’t put his foot down. The weather and circumstances called for extreme caution.
The five homes facing the ocean were set apart, rare for a beach community. His was the only house that hadn’t been renovated. Though it looked incongruous next to his wealthy neighbors, he liked the old fifties vibe, and being at the far end of the dead-end street, he was somewhat removed. Driving past the first two houses, he rolled to the side of the road and parked directly behind the home in which Bianca was being held. Lifting the hood of the slicker over his head and tightening the drawstring, he stepped out into the torrent, crouched down, and hurried to the side of the house.
Staying close to the wall as he moved forward, he found a modicum of cover from the wind. Spying light coming from a ground floor window, he slowed his step as he approached, then slowly raised his head to peer inside. To his great relief, the detective was asleep on the couch. Taking a breath and continuing on, Nick discovered a window cracked open. He couldn’t believe his luck, and retrieving his small, powerful flashlight from a zippered pocket, he sent the beam through the glass. He found himself staring into a lavish bathroom, a perfect point of entry. Placing the steel cylinder between his teeth, he cautiously slipped his fingers through the narrow opening and pushed. The window glided silently up.
