I wrote you a lovely long bonus content earlier this week then realised just before publishing that it had spoilers for the next book to be released. This is the problem writing 4 books ahead - you’re reading book eight but I’m just finishing writing book twelve!

So I’ve saved that for a future update and written a new one which was a lot of fun to write. Poor Leandro is eighteen, a made man rising high in the Mafia ranks but the local lingerie store is more terrifying than anything the Mafia could throw at him…

In other news, Desperate Escape is out next month so you’ll get to see the fiasco of Alessandro’s wedding from the other side. I’m also publishing some my historicals and some poetry in the second half of this year. It won’t interfere with the two monthly Mafia publishing as this stuff has been on my hard drive for a long time. But if you imagine Aurelio Dinelli in Tudor England you’ll get an idea of the books I’ll be putting out. More on that later in the year…

But for now, enjoy Leandro, enjoy Hidden Emotions and blessed Summer love to you all.

Anna

Leandro

There were some things nobody warned you about when you were left in charge of a ten-year-old girl.

I’d known I’d have to make sure Gabriella went to school every day and ate something other than chocolate, and I’d even expected there would be homework to supervise and clothes to buy when she grew out of them. But it wasn’t until my father had finally gone overseas that I discovered what being a parent was really all about. And how ill-equipped an eighteen-year-old man was to be one.

‘Leandro?’

I looked up from the paperwork Aurelio had given me and frowned when I saw my sister hovering in the kitchen doorway instead of coming straight in. She’d been home from school for nearly half an hour and had barely said a word to me, which was unusual enough to make me aware there was something wrong. Normally I couldn’t get a word in as she chatted to me about her school day and pestered me to do her homework for her.

I put my pen down. ‘What’s happened, Gabi?’

‘Nothing’s happened. Leandro… I need something.’

That was a relief. Buying things I could manage. Handing out cash was the easiest part of parenting. We’d done the big back-to-school shop a few weeks ago and I’d spent hundreds on fancy coloured pens and scented erasers and all the other things my sister earnestly told me were essential to her education and getting good grades. But whatever she wanted she could have. I knew she missed having proper parents and, much as I loved her, I didn’t think an ambitious, bloodthirsty made man could ever be a great substitute for a mother.

‘I’ll take you to the mall after school tomorrow if you want. What do you need?’

She stared down at her hands and her cheeks went pink. ‘Some clothes.’

‘Sure, I mean we just bought a pile, Gabi, but if you want some more that’s not a problem.’

‘I don’t want them, I need them.’

I frowned at her because this was getting more complicated by the second.

‘Ok, then tell me what you need.’

‘It’s private!’

How the fuck could jeans and a T-shirt be private? We’d bought three pairs last time we went shopping and she hadn’t been shy at all. Now she was biting her lip and looking at me like she was ashamed of needing a new pair.

‘Gabi, you don’t have to worry about money, I’ve got shitloads. Just tell me what you need and I’ll give you the money.’

‘I can’t just buy them myself.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t know what size to buy.’

‘Then try them on.’

Her face went from pink to scarlet and tears were starting in her eyes. I had no idea why a shopping trip was causing her so much trauma. I stared at her for a moment, completely baffled, and then it hit me. Shit!

‘Is it girl stuff?’ I asked her gently.

She nodded miserably and I pulled her toward me and gave her a hug. This was awkward. Nothing in my life had prepared me to talk to a young girl about changes in her body and it was a conversation I’d have been happy never to have. But Gabi didn’t have anyone else to confide in. She was timid and scared even round the women we knew. It would have taken a lot for her even to come to me. I had to handle this properly.

‘Ok… Gabi, is it your time of the month?’

She looked at me blankly. Ok, that was a conversation we probably needed to have, but I could put that one off a bit longer. And thank God for that. I had a vague understanding of what sanitary products involved but absolutely no idea what I was supposed to buy, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to start interrogating women in the drugstore about periods.

‘Ok, forget that. What is it, Gabi? What do you need?’

She took a deep breath. ‘I need a bra.’

Oh my God. That was even worse. A bra! I didn’t want to think about my sister having breasts. Now my cheeks were starting to flame. She was a little girl. The last fucking thing she should be having was breasts. I just wanted her to stay little, play with her fucking My Little Ponies and let me off the hook with her whole journey from childhood to adulthood thing. I’d buy her every fucking pony in the store if it would keep her a little girl for a bit longer.

I wondered if parenting would have come easier if I wasn’t gay. Most men my age knew more about women than I did—they spent time with them and understood their bodies and all the weird things that went on. I was totally in the dark. I’d never even seen a fucking bra.

‘A bra?’

‘I need one.’

‘Are you sure? How do you know?’ Oh fuck! ‘Don’t answer that,’ I told her quickly. ‘I can work that bit out. If you need one, you need one.’ I wondered if the other girls at school wore bras but I didn’t want to talk about her friends’ breasts any more than I did hers. I didn’t want to talk about anyone’s breasts! The only chests I was interested in were hairy, muscular and firmly attached to a man.

This was a fucking nightmare. But she was my responsibility. If she needed a bra, she needed a bra.

‘If you need a bra, we’ll buy you one.’

She stared at me, appalled. ‘We? You can’t come with me!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’re my brother! It would be embarrassing, Leandro.’

‘More embarrassing than walking into a shop on your own and having no idea what you’re doing?’

‘I could go with one of my friends.’

‘No.’

She scowled at me, and for a moment I wondered if there was a woman I could ask to take her instead. I knew plenty of wives and girlfriends, and I was sure one of them would help if I asked, but I didn’t particularly want to explain to some woman I barely knew that my little sister needed her first bra. More importantly, Gabi had come to me even though she’d obviously been mortified about doing it, and I didn’t want her to think that the minute something became difficult I was going to hand her over to someone else.

‘We’ll go tomorrow,’ I said firmly. ‘I’ll take you into the city and we’ll find somewhere that sells them.’

‘Together?’

‘Together, no arguments. I don’t like bra shopping together any more than you do but we’ll grit our teeth and get it over with.’

She pushed her chair back and started for the door.

‘And bring your pocket money,’ I called after her. ‘If I’m being forced to buy underwear, you can pay for the coffee.’

She groaned and I laughed as she disappeared upstairs.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

It was worse. It was the worst day of my entire life. Murder and torture had nothing on bra shopping with a young girl. I’d rather take on ten armed men with a fucking blunt knife than set foot in women’s lingerie again.

There were hundreds of the fucking things and I had no idea why, because as far as I was concerned they all did exactly the same job. Some had straps on them, some didn’t, some had padding, others were apparently designed for sport and there were about twenty different measurements on the labels that meant absolutely nothing to me.

Gabriella looked as confused as I did and it didn’t help that she wouldn’t look directly at the bras or touch them. She just stood in the middle of the store with her arms folded as if a bra would magically materialise in front of us.

‘Which one do you want?’ I asked hesitantly.

‘I don’t know.’

‘You told me you needed one.’

‘I do.’

‘Then pick one.’

She shook her head and whispered in my ear. ‘I need to know what size I am.’

‘Well, which one looks like it might fit you?’

‘I don’t know!’

A woman beside us gave me an amused look and I lowered my voice, conscious that we were beginning to attract attention.

‘We’ll work it out,’ I promised her. ‘If we can figure out what the numbers mean then we’ll be able to make a better guess.’ I gingerly picked one up. ‘Ok, 30… what do you reckon that means?’

Gabi shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘There’s a letter too,’ I continued. ‘An A, and this one’s a B. Any ideas?’

‘Maybe the A means average…’ she suggested. ‘And the B could be big?’

‘Yeah, that’s it.’ I squeezed her hand. ‘So now we know that, what are you, an average or a big?’

She thought for a moment then whispered in my ear again. ‘A small.’

‘Ok, so we’re looking for an S then.’ I looked around until I spotted a saleswoman rearranging some underwear and motioned for Gabi to follow me.

‘Excuse me.’

The woman smiled. ‘Can I help you?’

‘My sister needs a bra. She’s a size S, can you show us something suitable for her age in that size?’

‘An S?’ the woman asked, then she smiled at me and her eyes twinkled. ‘You’re the brother, right? And this is her first one?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then the best thing to do is have a little measure so we can be sure of the size, then we can look in the teen selection for something comfortable and practical.’

‘Great.’ Comfortable and practical in the right size sounded exactly right. The lace and padding section had been making me feel very uneasy. We had a lot of years ahead of us before we needed to be shopping for those kinds of bras.

‘You’re not coming in,’ Gabi said quickly as I followed her and the lady to the fitting room.

‘I’m not letting you disappear into a changing room with a stranger.’

‘She works here!’

‘I don’t care where she works.’

The saleswoman glanced between us. ‘You can wait directly outside the fitting room if you’d prefer. I’ll leave the curtain slightly open while I’m measuring her so you can hear us, but you won’t be able to see anything.’

That sounded like a reasonable compromise to me, but Gabi was still glaring daggers at me.

‘Fine,’ she muttered eventually. ‘But you have to stay outside.’

‘I will.’

‘And don’t listen.’

If she knew how much I wanted to make sure I heard absolutely nothing of the conversation in the fitting room she wouldn’t have bothered saying that. I just wanted to keep my head down, forget I was surrounded by bras and pretend I was anywhere in the world except the lingerie department.

Gabi followed the woman into the fitting room and I stood directly outside as promised, feeling increasingly conspicuous as women walked past me carrying bras and underwear.

A few minutes later the saleswoman came out.

‘She’s trying a couple on. She’s quite petite so I’ve given her a couple of soft styles without underwiring. She doesn’t really need much support yet, it’s more about helping her feel comfortable as she develops.’

I frowned. ‘What’s underwiring?’

She picked up one of the bras hanging beside us and showed me the piece of metal running underneath it.

‘Why the hell would anyone put wire in underwear?’

The saleswoman laughed. ‘It gives more support.’

‘She’s ten. She doesn’t need metal holding her tits up.’

‘LEANDRO!’

‘Sorry, Gabi.’

I grinned at the saleswoman and she smiled at me. ‘You’re doing very well,’ she said kindly. ‘Most men run a mile from bra fittings.’

‘I would if I could….’

‘Leandro?’ Gabi’s voice was small. ‘Can you come in a moment?’

Shit, this was getting worse. I knew she needed my approval for things but not the bra, surely not the bra?

The curtain opened and Gabi stepped out wearing her school blouse over whatever bra she was trying on, then turned sideways and looked at herself in the mirror.

‘Can you see it?’

‘No.’ And I was so fucking grateful I couldn’t see it.

The saleswoman smiled. ‘That’s good. It means it fits properly under her clothes.’

‘Then get that one.’

‘I want to try the pink one too.’

‘Fine.’

‘And there’s one with little flowers…’

‘Get that as well.’

She looked suspicious. ‘You’re not even going to look at the price?’

‘I can afford bras, Gabi.’

‘Can I get five?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because ten minutes ago you didn’t even want one.’

She grinned and disappeared behind the curtain again, and I realised with relief that the embarrassment had finally gone. By the time we left she had three bras in a paper bag and had somehow persuaded me to buy a pair of Winnie the Pooh pyjamas that had absolutely nothing to do with why we’d come shopping.

She handed me the bag the moment we stepped outside.

‘Why am I carrying it Gabi?’

‘I don’t want anyone to know what’s in it.’

There was absolutely no logic in that, but I took it off her anyway.

‘Can we get coffee now?’ I asked her weakly. ‘Bra shopping’s fucking exhausting.’

She slipped her hand into mine as we walked and I squeezed it automatically.

‘Thank you for bringing me,’ she said quietly.

I glanced down at her. ‘I thought it was the most embarrassing day of your life?’

‘I kind of didn’t mind that you were there in the end. We do everything else together. And it’s not like you’re interested in bras or what goes in them.’

‘True, I don’t have a clue.’ I hesitated. ‘Gabi, I’m probably going to get loads of this stuff wrong because I don’t know anything about girls, but you can always tell me when you need something. You know that, right?’

She nodded then peeped up at me slyly. ‘Even when I start my period?’

I hesitated. ‘Yes.’

‘Even when I start liking boys?’

I closed my eyes as my future stretched out before me. Bras… periods… boys.

I’d thought today was the worst day of my life but I had the horrible feeling that there was a lot worse to come.

As most of you know, I write 3-4 books ahead of publication so it seems a long time since I wrote Hidden Emotions (just finished writing book 11 of Tangled Empires this week) so it’s nice to be talking about it again. I’ve got a very soft spot for Alessandro who seems to pop up in everyone’s book, lol.

This is the first time I’ve written an M/M romance but I knew it was going to happen from the very first time Alessandro turned up in book 1. There was never any question of him settling down with a girlfriend, I couldn’t push one of my favourite characters into a relationship that didn’t feel natural to him. As he comments himself :

‘I like men. ‘Fucking muscular hairy men with strong backs, big arms, and a cock I can ride to Heaven on.’

That said, Alessandro goes through a lot of pain before getting his happy ending…

This book doesn’t have a cliffhanger but it does work as a duology with book 9 where you’ll get the other side of the story about Alessandro’s disastrous marriage… You’ll see what I mean.

Please can I beg a favour. If you are enjoying my books I’d be ever so grateful for a quick review on whichever platform you usually do your reviews on (Amazon, Goodreads, Romance.IO, Fable etc.) It’s also always lovely to hear from readers too so welcome to drop me a line if you have any questions or comments: annahardingdarkromance@gmail.com

I’ll pop a snippet of the book down below

Anna xxxx

Leandro
February 1991

I sat down opposite Aurelio’s brother and noted yet again how well defined Alessandro’s upper body was. That had to be at least two to three hours a day in the gym. I smiled to myself at the tight T-shirt. I bought my shirts a size smaller to show off my muscles too. No point putting the work in if nobody was going to see it.

‘No interruptions,’ Aurelio told us brusquely, nodding at my pager. He hadn’t even bothered to invite his father. Everybody knew who was running the Mafia now—Aurelio in all but name. He was confident his father would step down within the year, which would make the three of us in the room the highest-ranking men in the mob.

I’d wondered a few times if Aurelio might appoint Alessandro as his underboss. Alessandro was younger than me but an intelligent man and a credible choice. I wouldn’t have resented being bumped to third place—Aurelio’s consigliere—but when I’d raised the subject, Aurelio had been very clear he wanted me as his underboss. I hadn’t been totally sure if Alessandro minded, but he never seemed bothered.

He grinned at me from under his lashes as Aurelio started moving papers into order on his desk. I grinned back. Alessandro had all Aurelio’s charm but none of his coldness. And he was a lot more fun. Much as I loved my best friend, I had to admit he wasn’t a man to share a laugh with. A drink, sure. A torture session, definitely. But humour wasn’t really in his nature.

Alessandro winked at me and pointed to a paper on the desk. ‘I added to his agenda,’ he mouthed at me. ‘He’s going to go apeshit!’

I tried to look disapproving, but Alessandro’s cheeky humour was so infectious I couldn’t help smiling. He was always winding his brother up, and it was very funny to watch. Meetings with Aurelio could drag on a bit, but a bored Alessandro really livened things up. I liked how he could turn the most serious of topics into something to laugh at.

We both listened politely while Aurelio talked us through his plans for the coming weeks. I could hear the frustration in his voice. He was still running the Mafia as his father had, but Aurelio thought bigger than crime and drug sales. He wanted to modernise the Mafia, to use legitimate enterprises to launder money and to grow investments. He wasn’t interested in drug routes and illegal gambling. One of the men had asked if he’d consider funding a cage-fighting club, and I’d never seen my friend look so disgusted.

Aurelio’s eyes widened as he looked at the next page and his voice was low and dangerous.

‘What the fuck is this?’

‘It’s a copy of the poem you wrote to Rose. It’s so good I thought you might like to read it to us as well.’

‘Where did you get this?’ Aurelio demanded, glowering at his laughing brother. ‘This is private, Alessandro.’

‘In your bedroom safe,’ Alessandro answered with a grin. ‘You changed the code to her birthday.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Let me see if I can remember it, “The flame of your hair and the fire of your eyes…”’

We’d both been amazed that cold Aurelio was interested in a woman. Alessandro knew more about it than I did, but Aurelio was whizzing all over the fucking place escorting Rose to galleries and concerts. For the first time since I’d met him, he was even gazing into space in meetings.

‘You went in my safe?’

Alessandro held his palms up. ‘You told me to! You needed some documents the other day.’

‘I didn’t tell you to go through my private papers and share them with other people.’

‘I thought you’d like to show Leandro your poetry.’

‘You’re a fucking liability,’ Aurelio snapped at his brother. ‘I suppose you thought this was funny.’

‘Hilarious,’ Alessandro agreed. ‘Hang on… I remember now: “I long for the touch of my lips on your lips. The world burns as I hold you in my arms.”’ He grinned at his brother again. ‘Her father will be on the next plane from England if you fuck her.’

‘I’d never insult Rose by offering her sex outside marriage.’

We both gaped at him. I’d never, ever heard Aurelio mention marriage without a derisory note in his voice. He liked women, sure, but I’d never even seen him offer a girl a second date. Now he was actually suggesting he might propose to an English girl. He was the future Capo—expected to marry an Italian—and Aurelio never went against Mafia tradition.

Alessandro’s face fell. ‘You’re not serious?’

‘She’s beautiful, intelligent and cultured,’ he replied icily. ‘Why wouldn’t I be serious?’

‘She fucking worships you, Aurelio. You’ll break her.’

Alessandro was right. I’d seen women fall for my best friend before, and he took an almost perverse pleasure in pushing them away when he was bored of them. He never dated Italian girls or anyone he might be serious about. He dated girls he could fuck and drop without making a scene or insulting any made men by defiling their daughters. I’d thought this English girl was just another of his conquests, but from the way he was speaking, Rose Lombard meant a hell of a lot more to him.

‘I’d never hurt Rose.’ Aurelio was glaring at his brother with heat in his eyes.

‘You might not mean to.’ Alessandro almost sounded desperate. His jaw tightened and he rubbed his head. It was clear he hadn’t been expecting this. ‘Aurelio, I love her, but she’s sensitive—seriously fucking sensitive. She’s already in over her head. She won’t be able to handle being ditched by you, and she sure as fuck wouldn’t be able to handle being married to you.’

Alessandro was a decent guy. He cared about people in a way his brother didn’t. I was so grateful that the third man making up that trilogy of power in the Mafia would be Aurelio’s brother. I could rely on him to intervene when Aurelio went too far. I studied him surreptitiously. Fucking good-looking too. If his brother was popular with girls, Alessandro was doubly so. Though I’d never known him chase casual pussy like Aurelio. Alessandro was always ruthlessly faithful to his fiancée and I admired that about him. The guy had integrity.

I almost wished he was less… about the girls. Alessandro was exactly the kind of man I was attracted to. Tough but not insensitive, fit but not vain, intelligent but not obnoxious with it—and sexy as fuck.

I imagined myself with him for a moment. Not just the sex—though that would be hot beyond words. But the company. Spending evenings together like Aurelio was planning to do with Rose. I wasn’t fool enough to think gay marriage would ever become legal in my lifetime, but my life could be a lonely one sometimes. Most of the men I’d been involved with had either been married and terrified of coming out or a good fuck I had nothing in common with beyond the bedroom.

Having someone to share my solitude and my home, even if I couldn’t do the marriage and kids thing, would mean the world to me.

I wanted a partner so much. Someone I could trust to keep my secret the way Aurelio always had. Someone fun-loving and carefree to balance out the responsibilities I’d had piled on my shoulders for years. Someone I could have a laugh with, who could help me relax and take life less seriously. Someone I could fall in love with.

Fuck, someone just like Alessandro.

I can’t remember which book it’s in but I mention in passing the fact that Aurelio and Leandro got drunk when they first became made men. And I loved the idea of visiting these powerful antiheroes before they became the men they are in the series.

So this bonus content tells the tale of Aurelio and Leandro, aged sixteen, about to take the oath to enter the Mafia and deciding to just have a quick glass of whisky first…

Looking forward to publishing book 8 in a couple of weeks. You’ll be glad to know book 11 is now finished and I’ve started on book 12 and I’m on track to finish writing the whole 14 book series by the end of the year!

Love you all.

Anna

The Induction

Leandro
Aged Sixteen

I glanced at my best friend nervously as we loitered outside the main bar of the hotel.

I agreed with him that we could both do with a drink but...

‘Aurelio, we’re underage. We’ll never get served.’

‘My father owns the hotel,’ Aurelio replied in that irritatingly self-assured manner he had. ‘They’ll serve me if I tell them to.’

We probably shouldn’t be drinking on what was definitely the most important day of our lives so far. Getting inducted into the Mafia at sixteen was a privilege. Eighteen had always been the usual age, but Aurelio’s father had agreed to waive the informal rule for his son, and he’d extended it to me too, as Aurelio and I had done all our training together. His father had been the mentor for both of us.

I didn’t want to let the Capo dei Capi down by not being responsible, but I didn’t want to look a pussy in front of Aurelio either. If he was having a drink, then so was I.

‘Whisky,’ Aurelio ordered the barman imperiously. ‘A bottle of it.’

‘What kind?’

I grinned at my best friend’s panic. He thought he was so sophisticated, but he couldn’t even name one brand of whisky. I’d tease the shit out of him about that later.

‘A strong one,’ he replied cautiously.

‘A cheap one,’ I interrupted, checking the contents of my wallet.

Becoming a made man couldn’t come soon enough for me. It was all right for Aurelio; his father gave him all the cash he wanted. I had to work for my money—and, given the choice of keeping my part time job at the wet fish stall in the supermarket or entering the high-reward world of organised crime, I knew which I’d rather be doing.

The barman shoved a bottle and two glasses at us and we moved to a table at the back of the room where we couldn’t be seen from the door.

Despite Aurelio’s bravado and constant banging on about how he’d be the Capo dei Capi himself one day, I guessed he didn’t want to be caught by his father in illicit drinking any more than I did.

‘So what did you do?’ he asked, pouring us both a full glass. ‘For your task? What was it?’

‘Some idiot who’d pissed your father off. I stabbed him.’

‘You stabbed him?’

‘Yeah, right in the guts. What about you?’

Aurelio scowled at me. ‘I shot mine.’

‘You shot him? Wasn’t that a bit pussy? I mean, shooting’s okay in a rush, but didn’t you want to make your induction task more memorable? You know that girls use guns?’

‘My father said it was an efficient execution.’

‘He would though, wouldn’t he? He’s your father, so he’s got to say that. He told me I’m a natural killer and that I don’t have any of the empathy which holds men back from rising in the Mafia.’

‘Did you puke?’

‘No. You?’

I grinned to myself as he went quiet. He so had. Aurelio reckoned he was so tough, but he’d puked that time I’d found the dead raccoon and investigated its guts with my knife. He’d also puked when we’d nicked a tape of his father torturing one of the Russians. He’d tried to claim it was seafood poisoning, but who gets fucking food poisoning from fish fingers?

‘I loved it,’ I said confidently. ‘There was blood everywhere. I wiped my knife on my shirt like I was some kind of maniac serial killer. They’ll probably have to burn his house down; there was so much blood. That’s the kind of guy I am. I make killing count.’

I knocked my glass of whisky back. ‘You reckon we ought to get names like all the really notorious ones do? You know, like Scarface or the Bull? I was thinking of calling myself Slasher.’

‘That sounds stupid. Like a shit superhero.’

‘Well, what would you be called then?’

Aurelio thought for a moment. ‘The Despatcher.’

‘That sounds like you work in a fucking mailroom!’

‘My father hasn’t got a nickname. Maybe we don’t need them?’

‘Be good to define ourselves though, start as we mean to go on. I mean, according to you, you’ll be the Capo one day and I’ll be your underboss, so we need to create some terror from the beginning. Maybe if we didn’t do the nickname thing, we should have a flourish instead...?’

‘A what?’

‘Like a trademark. Maybe we always carve a symbol into the corpses of our victims?’

‘Like what?’

‘A dragon?’

Aurelio scoffed in derision. ‘So we go on a deadly mission together, kill someone, and instead of getting the hell out of there we start cutting intricate images of mythological creatures into our victim? That doesn’t make us look hard, that makes us look like clowns.’

‘Well, we have to do something,’ I retorted. ‘You want to go down in Mafia history as much as I do. How do we separate ourselves from everyone else?’

‘We don’t have to. The top jobs are going to be ours for the taking. My father’s been training me to be Capo since I was five years old, and the reason he’s taken such an interest in you is because he knows you’ll be my underboss. We’ll learn everything we can, make a shitload of money, and then one day we’ll take the reins.’

‘You could change your mind,’ I said uncertainly, pouring us both another full glass.

That was always the problem with being Aurelio’s friend. We were never really very equal. My future depended on his goodwill and his friendship. Though I didn’t have much competition, I wasn’t just his best friend, I was his only friend. Everybody else thought he was a cunt.

‘I could,’ he said arrogantly. ‘I’ll be the most powerful man in the Mafia.’

‘Yeah, who pukes when he shoots people. You’ll need me around to do the stuff that makes you cry.’

‘I never cry.’

‘You cried when you got that B minus on your history essay.’

‘Yeah, and you cried when your fucking rabbit died.’

‘You fucking cried too. You loved Hoppetty as much as I did!’

We were silent for a moment as we drained our glasses.

Much as we bickered, the pair of us really were inseparable. Aurelio was right that we’d make a good team at the top of the Mafia one day. We both had that same driving ambition that propelled us forward. And we needed each other to achieve that ambition.

Without Aurelio I’d never be underboss. But without me, he’d never have a right-hand man he could trust with his life.

‘You nervous?’ he asked me uncertainly. ‘About today?’

‘A bit, yeah. You?’

‘Kind of. I asked my father what happens and he told me that people who haven’t taken the oath can’t know anything about the ceremony. But we’ve already proven ourselves, so it can’t be that bad?’

‘Fuck, you know how the Mafia’s into rituals. Suppose it’s something weird like... like getting naked?’ I didn’t know if I wanted to be a made man enough to take my pants down in public.

‘Why the hell would it involve taking our clothes off?’

‘Seeing as we don’t know, it could be anything, it was just a guess.’

‘A stupid guess.’ He filled our glasses again. ‘There’s some blood involved, I’ve heard.’

‘Our blood?’

‘Maybe...’

‘Well, don’t pass out,’ I told him with alarm. ‘You know what you’re like.’

Aurelio punched me. ‘You always make out like I’m less tough than you. But which of us couldn’t go in the garage when that big spider was in there?’

‘And which of us fainted when he had a blood test?’

‘That,’ he told me hotly, ‘was because I was ill.’

I sipped at my whisky thoughtfully. ‘I wish we knew more. Which of us goes first?’

‘Normally we wouldn’t go in together, but being the boss’s son I swung it for us to be inducted at the same time.’

That sounded better than I’d imagined. He could go first and then I’d know what I was doing when it was my turn. That way I wouldn’t embarrass myself.

‘I asked my father if you could go first,’ he added serenely.

‘Great.’

The little shit had obviously had the same idea I had, but unlike me he’d had the clout to get his own way. Now I was going to have to fumble through the whole fucking process like a dumbass while he got to sail through it after watching me make all the mistakes. Still, at least we’d be together. He was right, under any other circumstances we’d have been inducted separately.

‘I’ll get us more whisky.’ Aurelio announced. He stood up but immediately sat down again. ‘Shit, I’m dizzy.’

I glanced at the bottle. We’d drained the whole thing between us. A whole bottle of whisky and this idiot wanted more? I hadn’t realised we’d drunk that much. I thought I’d been steadying my nerves, but I’d been drinking like a fucking fish.

‘Dizzy?’ I asked incredulously. ‘We’re pissed, Aurelio. Twenty-five minutes before we stand up in front of the entire Mafia and take the oath. It’s bad enough for me, but everyone’s always going to remember the future Capo who got hammered the day he was sworn in.’

‘Shit, so what do we do?’

‘Water,’ I told him decisively. ‘We need to drink a fuck-ton of water. And… breathe on me.’ I smelt his breath. ‘You stink, and I probably do too. We need some mints.’

‘We can get water from the bar. Where do we get mints from?’

I looked across the bar into the adjoining restaurant.

‘They’ll have some in there. They keep them for handing out with the bill.’

I gave him a shove. ‘You’re the Capo’s son. Go and order them to give us a load of mints.’

‘What do I say?’

‘Say, “I’m Aurelio fucking Dinelli, and if I tell you to give me a shitload of mints, you do it.”’

‘Okay, but come with me.’

‘In case you puke?’

‘Yeah...’

He wasn’t wrong about feeling dizzy—the second I stood up the whole room started to sway. I should have stuck to beer. I was okay with beer. This stuff was stronger than anything I’d got my hands on before.

I grabbed Aurelio’s arm as he started to sway.

‘Look, just hold onto me. We’ll get the mints and the water and you’ll be okay.’

I dragged him into the restaurant and accosted the first waitress I saw.

‘Hi, can we have some mints?’

She took a step back, which I guessed was something to do with my breath.

‘This is the owner’s son,’ I persisted. ‘He wants some mints.’

‘Yeah... I do...’ Aurelio slurred.

‘Well... okay.’

She looked a bit unsure, but I doubted she gave a shit if someone took all the mints if it meant getting two drunks out of the restaurant.

She disappeared for a moment and came back with a box full, which she pushed into my hands. ‘I’d take him to the bathroom,’ she advised. ‘He doesn’t look well.’

It was good advice. Aurelio looked like he was going to be sick at any moment.

‘Can you give me a glass or a mug or something?’ I asked her.

She sighed and fetched me a water glass.

‘Seriously now, get out of here.’

I found the bathroom and pulled Aurelio into it. There was a man taking a piss, but I showed him my knife and told him to fuck off. He zipped up hurriedly and walked out.

‘Drink,’ I urged Aurelio, filling up the glass from the tap and pushing it at him. ‘Drink. Shitloads.’

It was just beginning to dawn on me that the Capo dei Capi, my future boss, wasn’t going to be incredibly happy with me if he found out I’d got his son drunk on our induction day.

I didn’t doubt at all that Aurelio would spin it to all be my fault—that was my best friend all over. He was cunning and sneaky. I needed to get both of us sobered up or my lucrative future in the Mafia just might all turn to shit.

‘More,’ I urged him, filling the glass again.

‘I’m going to be...’

‘Sick? Yeah, good. Go puke it all out of your system.’

I knocked a few glasses of water back myself while I listened to him retch in a cubicle.

The sound made me feel queasy myself, but I rested my head against the cool tiled wall and told myself firmly I wasn’t a lightweight like Aurelio.

He was still green when he came out, but he looked better than he had.

‘You get any sick on your shirt?’ I asked him. ‘Fuck, you did. Hang on.’

I unfastened my tie, drenched it in water and used the back of it to rub the marks off the front of his shirt.

‘Okay, better. Now you need to have some of these.’

He made a face at me. ‘Eat? No way.’

‘You want to breathe whisky fumes all over your father when you swear the oath to him?’ I demanded. ‘You want every elder in the Mafia to know you got drunk on what’s considered almost a sacred occasion? Eat the mints.’

He swallowed a handful, and so did I.

We stood back and looked at each other critically.

‘Maybe splash some water on our faces?’ I suggested.

I glanced at my watch ‘Actually, no fucking time. We’re due in the conference room.’

Aurelio straightened his tie with painful concentration before nodding decisively.

‘Right,’ he announced. ‘Nobody can tell.’

‘You’re walking into walls.’

‘I’m walking confidently.’

‘You’re fucked.’

‘So are you.’

He wasn’t wrong. I was going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow.

I took one last mouthful of water and spat it into the sink as I stared at my reflection. My cheeks were flushed, but I didn’t look as drunk as I felt.

It would just have to do.

‘Come on then,’ I muttered.

We left the bathroom shoulder to shoulder and headed for the conference suite. The hotel suddenly seemed strangely quiet. The closer we came to the double oak doors, the more the laughter and chatter faded until all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart.

Two soldiers stood outside the entrance to the conference room and they both nodded respectfully to Aurelio as they opened the door for us.

There must have been over a hundred men in the room. Bosses from every Family— capos, soldiers and associates, all dressed in dark suits. Cigarette smoke hung beneath the chandeliers, and every pair of eyes turned towards us.

It was the first time I’d ever truly appreciated what the Mafia was. An entire fucking empire that one day would be headed by my best friend. Today marked our first step into a world that the two of us would eventually claim for our own. I wished I’d had the brains to stay sober. I wanted to remember this moment for the rest of my life.

‘Keep walking,’ Aurelio murmured without moving his lips. ‘You’ve got this Leandro.’

‘I’m trying.’

We crossed the room together until we reached the raised platform at the far end.

Carmine Dinelli stood waiting for us, flanked by his underboss and consigliere. These were the most powerful men in the Mafia. Induction was a big deal. One day it would be Aurelio and I deciding who joined the most powerful underworld organisation in America.

I looked nervously at a silver knife laid next to a small holy card with a picture of some saint on it and my stomach tightened.

Blood... Shit. Aurelio had been right. But who cut who?

I hoped to hell there wasn’t a lot of blood because no way could either of us handle the sight of it in the state we were in.

Carmine looked from his son to me and his mouth lifted slightly at the corner.

‘Leandro Barone.’

My mouth had gone so dry I almost couldn’t answer.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Step forward.’

I shot Aurelio a filthy look and the little bastard actually smirked. He’d definitely got his father to induct me first so he could be perfect on his go. Pretentious little shit.

I walked the final few steps alone and watched Carmine pick up the silver knife.

‘Leandro. Do you come here of your own free will, knowing that from this day until your death the Mafia comes before every other loyalty?’

‘Yes.’

‘Hold out your hand.’

I cautiously held my hand out toward him and winced as he sliced the blade across the tip of my index finger. I wanted to suck it as it started to bleed, but Carmine took my finger and pressed it against the card before folding it into my palm.

I glanced briefly towards Aurelio. The solemnity had sobered him up. He looked almost reverent. This mattered to him in the same way it did to me. We weren’t just two new made men, the two of us were the future of the Mafia. The men who would lead it into the twenty-first century.

I tightened my grip around the blood-stained card and raised my eyes to the man who ruled our world.

‘Do you enter freely of your own will?’ he asked me. ‘Do you pledge your life to myself and the Mafia?’

I took a deep breath.

‘I pledge my life.’

And that was it.

I was a made man.

Aurelio was fucking word perfect when it was his turn, of course. He didn’t even flinch when his father cut into him. He took the oath with a dignity that made him look like the ruthless Capo he would become and not the drunken schoolboy I knew him to be.

I did hold my breath when his father set light to the card and I prayed to all the Gods in the heavens that my best friend wouldn’t be sick at the smell of the smoke and fuck up his induction.

But he didn’t.

He carried himself with grace as we exited the room to the applause of the men who knew we would one day be their leaders.

Then I rushed him to the bathroom where he was violently sick over his shirt, his new suit, his freshly shined shoes and his expensive watch.

After watching him puke his guts up, I vomited all over the floor too.

One day Aurelio Dinelli and I would run the Mafia.

But for now, despite our new status as made men, we were still just two sixteen-year-olds who couldn’t hold our liquor.

Book One Tangled Empires

Anna Harding

Prologue—Eloise

It wasn’t just his brutality I feared.
It was the power he now held over me—the power I had given him.

Tonight, I was expected to sleep with the man who had violently assaulted me.
The man I had screamed and fought against.
The man who had thrown me to the floor and forced me to submit.

The fear still burned in my nightmares.
Always the pain. Always the blood.
Always the cruelty in his dark eyes as he took what I hadn’t been willing to give.

But this time would be different.
This time, I was expected to accept it.
This time, he had a right to touch me—to invade my body with his—and to demand whatever response he wanted.

This time, I wasn’t his victim.
I was his wife.

I just wish it didn’t feel like the same thing.

Prologue—Alexi

Sometimes I wonder how differently my life might have turned out—if I hadn’t let my most hated enemy trick me into committing the worst act of my life.

If I were a decent man,
I’d regret what I did to that unwilling girl until the day I die.

But how can I regret the one thing that gave me everything I ever wanted?
How can I regret the act that brought me her?

Alexi

New York

December 1988

I shoved the girl off her knees and adjusted myself as my father walked into the room. He looked at me in disgust and jerked his thumb at the door for her to leave.
‘Don’t you ever do anything except fuck, Alexi?’

His words stung. I brought more money into the family than my other three brothers combined. Ok, I wasn’t a strategic mastermind like my elder brother Anton, but I knew the business inside out and I understood the weak spots of all our enemies. Especially the Italians.

Given the pressure I’d put the Italians under recently, I’d actually expected some praise from Father. But as usual, he was more interested in Anton’s casinos and Nikolai’s drug contacts.

That was the difference between me and my brothers. They created and I destroyed. They wanted to build up the business, but I was more interested in taking down anyone who opposed us. I mainly fought the Mafia, of course. But my fights were pretty fucking lucrative for the Bratva.

When I broke a drug run, I got the proceeds for myself with no cost except a bit of muscle and, if I was unlucky, the odd dead soldier. Nikolai spent weeks setting up a shipment—and paid for it. I just showed up and took what I wanted.

‘My evenings are my own,’ I retorted. ‘Anton hasn’t got a problem with it, provided the girls are fit for work when I’m through with them.’

Although Anton handled most of the family business and our father had stepped into the background, he still wasn’t officially out—and Anton wasn’t officially in. Which meant I was still answerable to my father. And lately, his patience with me was wearing thin.

It wasn’t just the whores. He may not like the fact that I spent most of my leisure time with my cock in a mouth, but he could overlook it. What he couldn’t ignore was my obsession with crushing the Italians—an obsession which he claimed was starting to damage the Bratva. I braced myself for another lecture about my feud with Aurelio Dinelli.

But for once, I was wrong. ‘You get a hard on for these sluts,’ he said suddenly, ‘but you haven’t considered marriage? Taking a wife would give you all sex all day and all night if you wanted it.’

Fuck me, that was unexpected. No, I hadn’t thought about a wife. And no way would I ever marry a girl of his choice. Some naïve little Russian virgin who’d run crying to her father—and worse, to mine—if I did anything in bed to her outside the missionary position. I couldn’t think of anything I’d enjoy less.

‘I’m twenty-five,’ I said, trying to think of a better excuse than just my age. ‘You always said a man shouldn’t settle down until he’s in his thirties.’

‘Alexi, the concept of you settled is so far removed from any kind of reality that I don’t think it warrants a discussion. I have no doubt that even if you were married you’d still fuck around and cause me trouble.’ He nodded when I raised my eyebrows at him in question.

‘Yes, I know about your brother bailing you out of your numerous debauched sexual escapades. And I know your attitude to women is generally appalling. Your mother would be heartbroken if she knew what a deviant she’d given birth to.’

That was a bit harsh. I know I use women. And I do go too far. But I didn’t think that qualified me to be described as a deviant. I wasn’t hanging about masturbating on street corners. I was only attracted to adult women—who the fuck wants a girl without tits?—and although for me it was a case of the rougher the better when it came to sex, it was usually consensual.

‘I’ll try and do better,’ I muttered.

‘I’m asking for more than that,’ my father replied. ‘I’m asking you to give some thought to the idea of getting married.’

Fuck! He was actually serious. I could feel the blue balls already.

‘Do you have anyone specific in mind?’ I asked him cautiously.

‘I’d like to ask Nemov if he’d consider his sister to be a match for you.’

I didn’t know her and I didn’t want to. This was fucking lunacy. He wanted me, ME, to marry the virgin sister of the unhinged boss of the Bratva. I didn’t want my boss knowing what I did in bed and I sure as fuck didn’t want Simon Nemov knowing what I did to his sister in bed. I might as well just take a jump off the Brooklyn Bridge now and save Simon the hassle of slowly dissecting me into small pieces.

‘It’s an idea,’ I mused while I stalled for time. ‘But why me and not Anton? He’d treat her better and Nemov rates him. He thinks I’m a cunt.’

‘You are a cunt, Alexi, but you come from a family that he’d consider making a match with. As for why not Anton, I’ve already asked him. In fact I’ve been asking him for weeks, but he won’t do it.’

This was interesting. Anton usually did whatever Father wanted. Why would he pass up a chance to please the boss and claim a pretty wife?

‘What’s his reason?’ I asked curiously.

‘He said he was too busy with work, and marriage would mean he couldn’t do his work justice or give a wife the attention she deserved.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘Of course. But seeing as that was all he was willing to tell me, I’ve come to you instead.’

‘You’d do better with Nikolai. He’s soft as shit with women.’

‘Nikolai is only two years older than Anastasia. Nemov wouldn’t permit it.’

This was a nightmare. Father seriously wanted me to marry a girl I wouldn’t dare even ask to suck my cock. My future played out in front of my horrified eyes as I imagined not being able to get it up for fear of alarming her and sending her running with tales of my depravity to her ruthless brother.

‘Look, I’ll think about it, I promise. But work on Anton. He’ll come round if you push him enough. And think how much stress it would put you under if you knew I was taking Nemov’s sister to bed every night.’

Father didn’t look as if he disagreed with me on that point.

‘Imagine if it backfired,’ I pressed on, ‘and instead of bringing the families closer it caused problems because I wasn’t a good match for the girl. Nemov might even blame you for suggesting it.’

‘Are you seriously telling me you are so incapable of controlling yourself that you feel you’d be a risk to a woman you married?’

‘Are you telling me you want to take any level of risk where Nemov and his sister are involved?’

We glared at each other. I’d won the battle for now, but his look said it all—sooner or later he’d have some poor girl shackled to my bed for life.

Eloise

New York

December 1988

New York at last. I’d pictured it for years! I stepped off the plane and looked round frantically for my cousin. Everything about this city was faster than my life back in England.

‘Eloise!’ I saw a hand waving in the crowd and walked toward her in relief. I’d been worried I wouldn’t recognise her. Despite being penpals since we were ten, we’d never been allowed to meet face to face before. But Isabella was as cheery in the flesh as she was in her letters. She gave me a huge smile and flung her arms round my waist.

‘My brother Aurelio,’ she announced, stepping back carefully.

Her elder brother didn’t blink as his gaze swept over my dishevelled appearance—my hair untidy from sleeping on the plane—and he gave me a cold smile. ‘Welcome to New York.’ His eyes lingered with disapproval, and though the words sounded polite, there was no welcome in them. My stomach sank, but total exhaustion dulled the unease.

‘How did you get your stepfather to agree?’ Isabella asked, dragging me past a huge Christmas tree and a hundred twinkling windows that I kept trying to slow down to look in. America was amazing! Just like the shows I’d seen on television. Neither Isabella nor Aurelio showed any interest though. I supposed they were used to it—all the sights.

‘I just kept begging him,’ I told her, smiling at the memory. ‘He got fed up of me in the end. Though I don’t think he’d have let me come if I wasn’t staying with Uncle Carmine.’

‘Who could be safer to stay with than the Head of the Mafia?’ Isabella asked, laughing.

‘I told him you said your house is like a fortress.’

‘Guards everywhere,’ she replied comfortably. ‘All too terrified of my father and Aurelio to let any harm come to you.’

She pulled me over to a sleek red sports car. ‘Aurelio hates driving anything with four seats,’ she whispered. ‘But we wouldn’t all fit in his Ferrari.’

We sat in the back and she opened a packet of sweets and offered them to me. ‘What about your mother?’ she asked. ‘I bet she was harder to convince.’

‘She told me things would be different in a Mafia home.’ I pulled a face. ‘Half my clothes were too unsuitable, apparently. She wouldn’t let me bring any skirts above the knee.’

‘That’s probably for the best,’ said Isabella quietly, with a sideways glance at her brother. ‘Modesty is a major thing in my house.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Aurelio goes mad if I wear anything too short.’

‘What business is it of his?’ I asked. But I lowered my voice too. I didn’t want to get her into trouble, and I knew from her letters that Isabella had always been scared of her brother.

‘Elder male relatives make the rules,’ she said with a shrug. ‘They always have in the Mafia. I obey my brothers the same as I would my father. It’s just how things work.’

‘I don’t obey my brother,’ I told her with a grin. ‘We spend most of our time arguing with each other.’

Isabella laughed, but I saw a troubled look quickly flicker over her face. ‘Your mother’s right. Things will be different for you in our house. But I’ll help you get used to it.’ Her good mood returned. ‘We’ll shop and we’ll eat out and go dancing—we’re going to have so much fun now you’re here at last!’

I was looking forward to it. But when Aurelio’s dark eyes held mine in the mirror, a shiver crawled down my spine before I could stop it. Isabella’s way of life was more different to mine than I’d imagined.

Life with the Dinellis would be nothing like the life I’d left behind

***

‘Dinner!’ Isabella bounced up to me and linked arms. ‘I hope you’re hungry, because Mama’s made my absolute favourite. I could eat Cacciatore every day and never get tired of it!’

I laughed at her enthusiasm. ‘Every meal is your favourite!’ Isabella took after her mother—they both loved to cook and eat.

I couldn’t blame her. Aunt Ginevra’s food was next level. After a few days with an Italian family, I could see why the rest of the world mocked English cooking. I loved the richness of the sauces, the fragrant herbs and garlic, the huge, ripe tomatoes she somehow sourced even in winter. I was becoming just as addicted to dinner as Isabella.

I took my seat at the table, smiling across the candlelight at Uncle Carmine. He always made an effort to include me in the conversation—though when both his sons were present, business talk tended to dominate.

My uncle had gone out of his way to be friendly since I arrived. He was interested in English politics and often invited me into his office to get my opinion on one news story or another. Unfortunately, my reading material mainly consisted of fashion magazines, so I doubted I ever told him anything he couldn’t find in the American papers.

Uncle Carmine paused his conversation with Aurelio and turned to me. ‘Eloise! My wife tells me you want to see the city? I’d take you myself, but I’m tied up in meetings all week.’ He looked at Aurelio. ‘Perhaps you could take the girls to see the sights?’

Aurelio reached out for his glass of wine and took a sip, setting the glass down slowly. ‘No.’

The bluntness stunned me, and my head shot up to stare at him in disbelief. But Uncle Carmine didn’t react, and Aurelio clearly didn’t feel the need to explain himself.

I found Aurelio deeply intimidating. He carried the same quiet authority as his father, but Aurelio’s smile never reached his eyes. I always felt he was looking through me rather than at me.

I didn’t like the way he treated his sister either. He monitored Isabella’s friends, told her to change her clothes if he didn’t approve, and even dictated which books she could read. She accepted it all with barely a blink. I guessed that was what my mother had meant about a Mafia home being so different from the life I was used to.

Even Aunt Ginevra seemed to shrink around her eldest son. She’d blink a lot, clean her glasses, then look at him like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

Aurelio was the kind of man people looked at twice. Not just because he was attractive—though I could definitely see my sister Rose being into those sculpted features: tousled hair darker than his eyes, and a neatly trimmed short beard that made him seem older than his twenties. But looks weren’t enough to explain the attention he commanded. There was something else about him—something that kept people fascinated…at a distance.

Uncle Carmine sighed heavily. ‘Perhaps you then, Alessandro?’ he asked his younger son.

Alessandro nodded good-naturedly at his father and shot a grin at me. I liked Isabella’s other brother a lot more than Aurelio. He was so much more relaxed.

Aurelio cut in. ‘I’ll arrange a bodyguard for Bella if they need to go into the city. Alessandro will be with me this week. Two of our restaurants have defected to the Russians. I can’t spare Alessandro for sightseeing.’

I felt my pulse quicken. It was strange to hear a family speak like this so openly. They discussed the criminal side of their business with the same ease other people talked about weekend plans. I couldn’t imagine my father ever discussing the illegal side of his art deals over the table—though I could definitely picture the look on my mother’s face if he did.

‘Which restaurants?’ Uncle Carmine asked, his face hardening.

‘Alfredo’s on Chester Street, and Rocco’s.’

‘Rocco’s I want back. It’s been ours for years. Alfredo’s you can deal with as you see fit.’

Aurelio gave a thin smile. ‘I plan to use it to send a message to anyone else who thinks they’re safer under Russian rule.’

‘Good. A show of strength is needed. But why the sudden interest in our restaurants? The Russians have never been big on protection. What’s stirred them up?’

Alessandro laughed out loud. ‘What do you think, Aurelio! The Russians don’t have a drug route left on the west side of the city since Aurelio blocked them all. Alexi Kostrov wants his blood.’

Uncle Carmine sighed. ‘Mikhail’s son? Weren’t we supposed to be co-existing in some kind of peace? I thought we agreed to give each other drug routes so neither side lost income.’

‘You did,’ Alessandro agreed. ‘But it started to unravel when Aurelio got half their whores working for us. And it fell apart completely when he blew up one of their casinos and had three of Kostrov’s men killed.’

Killed? I looked at Isabella in shock as my fork fell to my plate, but she was calmly buttering bread. This must be normal conversation for her. She hadn’t reacted at all to her brothers openly admitting they killed people.

‘Kostrov has baited this family long enough,’ Aurelio said, his voice as cold as his eyes. ‘I want him out of the picture.’

‘If you kill his son, Mikhail will go to war. That helps no one,’ Uncle Carmine was starting to get angry now. ‘If this turns into a feud, I’ll have to divert all our resources into protection. I didn’t build this business for you to waste my money fighting the Russians.’

I felt the glass in my hand tremble as I watched the anger simmer between the two men.

‘Killing him will not be necessary,’ Aurelio replied. He smiled again. ‘But I will make Alexi Kostrov regret the day he heard the name Dinelli.’

***

It wasn’t until everybody else had left the table and she’d had her third helping of dessert that I felt I could bring up the topic of the dinner conversation with Isabella.

‘Oh, they always talk like that,’ she said comfortably. ‘If they didn’t talk about business, then we’d just sit here in silence every night. Well, Father and Aurelio would. Alessandro is ok talking about other things, but he always gets caught up in the business talk too.’

She scraped her plate with her spoon. ‘I suppose it must be strange for you, the kind of things we discuss?’

‘It does shock me a bit,’ I admitted. ‘It’s just so weird to hear people talking about things like death and drugs so casually. But I get that not having secrets brings you closer together as a family.’

Isabella snorted. ‘Me, Mother and Alessandro maybe. Aurelio? No way.’

‘No?’

‘Can you imagine being close to Aurelio?’

‘He’s quite domineering,’ I said cautiously. ‘But you don’t seem to have a problem with him telling you what to do all the time?’

‘There’s no point arguing with Aurelio. He always gets his own way. It’s easier just to give in and get whatever he wants over with.’

‘He’s very protective of you.’

‘That’s not protection. Alessandro looks out for me. Aurelio just likes control. Especially when he’s bored. He agreed to tutor me for my exams two years ago when I was struggling at school. I was trapped in his office every single day of the whole summer holiday doing work that he set for me. I didn’t get to go swimming or out with my friends once. He’d just come in, look over my shoulder at the work I’d done, and then set me a pile more for the next day.’

‘Didn’t your father say anything?’

‘What could he say? I went from failing to being almost top of the class under Aurelio’s tutelage. Father’s a different generation, so when Aurelio tells him my clothes aren’t modest enough or my books are too trashy, Father believes him. Is your brother different, then?’

‘Well, Jamie is younger than me, so yes, it is different. It would be weird if he started telling me or Rose what to do. We’d probably tell him where to get off, if I’m honest.’

‘Eloise…’ Isabella hesitated, then glanced around the dining room to make sure it was still empty. She twirled a hair nervously around her finger. ‘Don’t say that kind of thing around Aurelio,’ she said. ‘Seriously.’

‘Why?’

‘He wouldn’t take it well. He might see it as a challenge. And you really don’t want to be on his radar. It’s hard to explain, but my brother isn’t someone you’d want to cross. If he makes an enemy, he goes all out to destroy them. I’d hate for you to say anything that might get you on the wrong side of him.’

She looked around again carefully and lowered her voice. ‘I probably shouldn’t say this… but Aurelio is dangerous. Not just dangerous in the sense that all made men are—Father and Alessandro are no strangers to violence— but there’s something about Aurelio that makes him different. He’s my brother, but even I’m afraid of him.’

I could see what she meant. Isabella’s two brothers were very different. Alessandro was so laid-back and casual. He was fun to be around and always volunteered to take us shopping. He would even watch a movie with us in the evenings sometimes, though that usually ended in a pillow fight between him and his sister when they argued about what movie to watch.

Aurelio was the total opposite. He was cold—almost emotionless. As far as I could tell, he had no interests beyond what he did in the Mafia. The look on his face whenever he spoke to me or Isabella made it clear he found our conversations dull and beneath him. I understood most men in their twenties weren’t exactly fascinated by the chatter of teenage girls, but the looks of derision from Aurelio were so barbed they could cut.

I realised then that Isabella wasn’t alone. I’d never been afraid of anyone in my life. But I was afraid of Aurelio.

Alexi

January 1989

The meeting had gone on for longer than planned, as usual. Father liked the sound of his own voice, and Anton had been too lost in his own thoughts to help me drag the discussion to a swift conclusion.

I fucking hated meetings. Sitting around all day wore me out. It was a waste of time when I’d wanted to take a few men and sound out a few more restaurants to see if they’d defect to our protection from the Italians. The protection racket bored me, but I knew how much it pissed Dinelli off when I stole a restaurant off him.

I loosened my tie and poured a drink, kicking back in my chair as I switched the computer on. When Nikolai had first shown me the thing, I’d looked at it the way all three of my brothers had looked at me when I’d had a phone installed in the Merc. But I’d got used to turning it on at the end of the day now.

The modem shrieked and crackled through its ritual—static, beeps, the grinding howl of a connection clawing its way through the telephone line—before the screen finally blinked to life.

I was planning to talk with someone tonight. A girl I’d met on one of those BBS boards Nikolai had shown me. We’d spoken a couple of times, and I wanted to arrange a meeting now. I didn’t mind a bit of chat, but I wasn’t one of those sad fucks who sat at the computer all night, jerking off while talking to women. This needed to get real, fast.

I’d made sure the girl was after the same thing I was, so I just needed to arrange a time to meet her. It was hard to read her tone online, but she’d been blunt enough to make it obvious that she wanted no-strings sex of the hard and rough kind. Which suited me perfectly.

I liked women, but I had little time for the social niceties that accompanied the whole dating scene. If I wanted sex, I paid for it. No questions, no complications.

I might feel differently if I were looking for a wife, but at twenty-five I felt marriage could wait a while. And, as Anton often reminded me, finding a wife who’d be willing to cope with my tastes in the bedroom would present me with a challenge anyway. I figured Father’s silence meant he agreed with Anton—no woman would be able to tolerate me for long.

I turned back to the screen. There she was. A pixellated red smile and cartoon tits. She’d definitely been thinking whore when she created that image.

Of course, I wasn’t naïve enough to think people on computers would depict themselves accurately but I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and an hour or two of my time. Though I’d be fucking pissed off if she turned out to be all talk.

I’d been on a few of these boards before and usually found them tedious and full of bored teenagers, but this one promised exclusivity and screened out the pretenders by asking for a hefty member fee. It also promised to cater for exactly the kind of thing I was looking for.

Her words started to appear slowly on the screen.

You said we could meet? Shall we sort something?

Direct and to the point. I relaxed in my chair. This was what I wanted.

Sure. When works for you?

If you’re free, I could meet you Thursday night. Early evening? Does that suit you?

Yes.

Good. No messing about. Though I wanted to check one more time she was OK with what she was agreeing to.

Tell me again. Exactly what you want me to do to you.

I wasn’t—just—looking to get off with some sex talk. I needed to make sure she was serious about the things we’d discussed. It was one thing to say it on a computer, it was another to put herself in my hands, in a situation where she had no control.

Her answer came quickly.

I want you to fuck me.

I looked at the words on the screen and frowned. I could get a quick fuck in less than thirty minutes by dialling any one of a handful of numbers.

And? I prompted.

Do whatever you want to me.

Women fucking annoy me when they say things like that. If I did half the things I wanted to, I’d be arrested and she’d be messed up for life. If she was genuine about meeting me, she needed to be realistic about the limits she had to set.

Don’t mess around. Anyone can type that kind of crap. Show me you’re serious.

The typing came all in a rush.

I want you to force me. Even if I scream and fight I want you to keep going. I need to fight and know you won’t stop.

Better. This echoed our previous conversations. Rough sex was what she wanted.

You want to feel like I’m forcing you?

I want you to promise that whatever I say or do, and no matter how much I fight you, you won’t take no for an answer.

That was more like it. I was intrigued by the prospect of such a realistic roleplay.

Promising that is hardly a problem for me. I shifted my cock as it stirred in my trousers.

I want to pretend… her typing paused a moment, That I don’t want you.

I see. You want it to feel real?

Definitely. It’s really important that you don’t stop because it won’t feel real if you don’t play along or if you stop and ask if I’m OK.

Trust me, I won’t give a fuck if you’re OK or not.

You promise? You won’t stop. Whatever I say? Even if I scream and beg you?

I liked the sound of that. It turned me on to hear women beg. Even if they were begging for more, that still worked for me. Her begging me to stop would guarantee her the roughest fuck of her life.

Agreed. I unbuckled my belt and started stroking my cock, which had thickened through the conversation.

Have you got a photo then so I make sure I fuck the right girl?

Yes. I’ll get a courier to deliver it. Where do you want it sending?

You know the club Nemesis?

Sure.

Just send it there in an envelope marked Alexi. I’ll get it.

I was short now that business was all but concluded.

You said you know where you want this to happen?

There’s a warehouse a few blocks away from me—nobody’s touched it in years.

She typed the map coordinates.

If you met me on the corner of the road then you could grab me and drag me there?

I laughed, her attention to detail amusing and exciting me at the same time.

It’s locked, she typed, But I can get the key. I’ll leave it in the door so you can lock it behind us.

OK. So it’s agreed. I grab you, drag you off the street, lock you up and fuck you within an inch of your life—without stopping, even if you beg me.

That’s exactly what I want.

Then that’s exactly what you’ll get, sweetheart.

I jotted down the details and, picking up the phone, I ordered one of the family’s whores to come round and deal with my hard-on.

Eloise

January 1989

It had taken me ages to find a dance class that matched what I’d been doing back home—and even longer to convince Isabella to come with me. So I was irritated when she bailed because Aunt Ginevra suddenly needed help sorting old family photos into albums.

‘She’d forgotten she planned to do it,’ Isabella told me with a resigned shrug. ‘But Aurelio decided to remind her. He did it on purpose. I told him last week that your class was tomorrow. He just didn’t want me to go. Still, you go—Father can get one of his men to drive you. Maybe I can come next week.’

‘Couldn’t you just tell him you’ve made plans already?’

‘I can’t. If I let my mother down, Aurelio would be furious with me.’

‘Did I hear my name?’ Aurelio came in and ruffled his sister’s hair. ‘Problem, Bella?’

‘No,’ Isabella assured him quickly. ‘There’s nothing wrong. I was just telling Eloise about the photos and Mama needing me to sort them with her. I wondered if maybe you or Father could get one of your men to drive Eloise to the class tomorrow so she doesn’t have to miss it?’

Aurelio nodded. ‘I’ll drive you,’ he said, turning to me. His tone was casual but final, leaving no room for argument. ‘I’ve got some business on the other side of town, but I’ll pick you up and drive you back too.’

My stomach tightened; it sounded less like an offer and more like a command I had no choice but to obey. I didn’t like the idea of being alone with him at all.

‘I don’t mind missing the class,’ I told him. ‘I don’t want to inconvenience you.’

He looked at me as though I’d said something amusing. ‘If it inconvenienced me, I wouldn’t have offered,’ he replied, shrugging as if my protest didn’t matter.

‘If it’s out of your way…’ I lifted my chin a little. ‘I really don’t mind.’

‘It’s not out of my way, and I’d like you to be safe. You’re part of the family. Actually,’ he continued, ‘seeing as my mother is in the process of organising all her photos, we’d better make sure we have one of you for the album.’

He studied me for a moment, then turned to his sister. ‘Go fetch my camera,’ he ordered her. Isabella hurried off immediately at her brother’s command.

‘I take it you didn’t learn to drive in England?’ Aurelio asked me.

I wondered if he would have offered to lend me a car if I had learned, but I doubted it.

‘No, I had a few lessons but I wasn’t very good. I even tried an automatic, but I didn’t get on very well with roundabouts.’

‘Bella asked me for permission to learn, but I felt she was too young. She’s going to ask me again when she turns twenty-one.’

‘It’s seventeen to drive in the UK.’

‘It’s whatever age I deem appropriate in this household.’

I wasn’t sure how to reply to such blatant sexism, so I was relieved when Isabella turned up with the camera.

‘Here,’ she said brightly, handing it to Aurelio, who immediately stepped back and looked at me critically. ‘Try turning to the side,’ he suggested. ‘Show me your profile.’

I turned, self-consciously, into the pose he wanted and he took my picture.

‘This was such a good idea of yours,’ Isabella told him. ‘Though I’m hoping I won’t just have a photo to remember Eloise by. I’m trying to persuade her to stay in the States and do her degree here.’

She looked hopefully at her brother. ‘Maybe if you let me study Fashion, we could go to the same college?’

‘We have discussed this before,’ Aurelio told her coldly. ‘I will allow you to make clothes as a hobby, but you will not be studying it. The fashion scene is inappropriate for a girl in this family.’

He turned to me. ‘Are you academic enough for further education, Eloise? What would you study?’

I flushed. ‘Art. I like painting.’

‘Fine Art is a demanding discipline. I’d be interested to look over your work.’ He gave me a patronising smile. ‘Bring some pieces to my office when I’m free.’

I nodded politely, but there was no way on this earth I was going to show my paintings to my cold and condescending cousin. I’d rather stick them in the fireplace and watch them go up in smoke than take artistic criticism from Aurelio.

Aurelio smiled knowingly at me, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

‘I’ll get the photo developed this afternoon,’ he told Isabella. ‘Save a space in the album.’

I told myself it was only a picture. Just a family keepsake. But the way Aurelio’s eyes assessed me made it feel like something so much more…sinister.

Alexi

The girl was waiting when I pulled up. I was surprised she hadn’t tarted herself up like a whore. I’d expected short skirt and heels, not jeans and a ponytail. Though maybe this was her way of keeping the fantasy real. She was supposed to be the innocent bystander; I was the predator. That was the game.

It was a roleplay I’d played out a few times, but never with the detail we’d arranged. Usually, it stayed in the bedroom—kink, roleplay, a little brutality, nothing permanent. Force play, but not actual force. I’d always checked myself before going too far. I wanted a hard fuck, not a night in the cells.

I needed girls to set boundaries to control me because I couldn’t trust myself to know when I was going too far. And it had worked well enough. None of them had ever come back for a second go—I knew Anton had paid at least two of them out of prostitution. But I’d never left anyone in a state bad enough to cause me any trouble.

This girl was different.

She hadn’t drawn a single line. No safe words, no restrictions. In three late-night conversations, I’d pushed her, hard, asking for specifics. Every time, the answer had been the same:

Do whatever you want to me.

A fucking dangerous thing to say to any stranger, but it was verging on insanity to say it to me. Do what I want to her? Even I knew I’d have to stop before we did half the things I really wanted to.

She’d told me to do whatever I wanted—but she had no idea what that really meant. Maybe she thought she was in control, that this was still her game. It wasn’t. The second she said those words, it became mine.

Fortunately for her, I had no interest in drawing unwanted attention to the family, and I didn’t want the police at my door asking awkward questions. Sure, I could get a clean-up crew if things went too badly wrong, but that wasn’t my kink. I got enough opportunity to kill at work. Killing to me was a mundane and functional act. There was nothing erotic about it.

Even my darkest fantasies didn’t involve killing women. I just liked it rough. Force turned me on—terror, resistance, control. Not corpses. But I wondered if she had considered that? That some men get off on blood and death? Maybe that was part of the thrill for her.

I did plan to offer her cash afterwards. This might be her fantasy and she hadn’t seemed interested when I’d mentioned money, but when reality hit, she’d need a few dollars. Even if only for a medical check-up.

She gave me a polite smile as I crossed the street. Her acting was top tier. Clearly, realism mattered to her. So I got into character and stalked slowly to where she was standing.

The street was empty, just like she’d said. Not quite dark enough for the usual nightlife, but quiet enough that no one would be hanging around. Public enough to add a thrill. Private enough not to ruin my fun.

I stepped behind her. She tensed and moved away slightly. That tiny flinch—barely a shift of muscle—made me hard. Real fear leaked through no matter how well she acted, and I fucking loved it. Resistance, panic, her trembling body…I wanted to hurt her and leave her broken and destroyed on the floor.

If just my presence unsettled her, she was in for a hard few hours. Moving close enough to smell the sweat of her fear, I unsheathed my knife and pressed the point of it gently against her back.

‘Be silent,’ I said, in a low and deadly voice.

I’d mentioned nothing in advance about knives, but her open invitation to do whatever I wanted gave me no qualms about using my favourite tool. Knives were supposed to be props in roleplay, but for me they were something else. A promise. Once steel touched skin, I always wanted to go deeper.

She gave a sharp intake of breath but obeyed my command.

‘When I give the word,’ I continued, ‘you’ll turn around and walk beside me. No screaming. No looking at me. No hint that anything’s wrong. Understand?’

She gave a tiny nod.

‘If you draw attention to us, you’ll regret it.’

The girl swallowed, but I gave her no chance to react. ‘Turn around.’

She did, her eyes not daring to meet mine. Trembling. The shudder ran straight through me. I loved this—real fear, not giggling in lingerie and candlelight. This was what got me off. I appreciated her attention to detail and I appreciated her acting ability. This was going to be one hell of a fuck.

I motioned for her to walk ahead. I hadn’t touched her yet. I wanted to get closer to the warehouse before showing any muscle. No need for some idiot passerby to think they were watching a real crime. Though I was so turned on now that any passerby would quickly find himself gutted before he came between me and sinking myself into this girl’s tight pussy.

I’d scoped the place earlier. Derelict and dirty, the perfect backdrop for the scene of violence and violation. The key had been in the door like we agreed. I’d pocketed it and left it locked.

As we neared the entrance, I sheathed the blade and clamped my gloved hand over her mouth. She tried to scream. I’d expected that. I grabbed her waist, yanked her back into me, lifted her off the ground and squeezed the air out of her lungs. She was light as anything. Easy to carry and easy to silence. She flailed, but she had no chance against me.

I unlocked the door and shoved her inside. Her scream died against my glove as I forced her into the dark.

She thought she’d scripted this. She thought she knew the ending. She was wrong. Whatever story she thought she’d written, I was going to brand my own into her skin.

Dark Atonement is available for purchase on Amazon and to read in Kindle Unlimited.

You can always tell when I’m writing something dark because the bonus content gets a lot lighter! I’ve just finished writing book ten (Vilen Kostrov and Calina Nemov) and though he’s the most unlikely hero you can ever imagine, I ended up agreeing he could have his HEA in the end.

Don’t forget book seven Tortured Innocence is out next week and available for preorder here. (That’s one’s dark as hell so skip it if you don’t feel the aftermath of prolonged torture is your thing. It’s not too gratuitous though, the emphasis is far more on recovery than actual trauma and some of my early readers have said it’s really quite beautiful).

But I thought we’d go back to the Mafia for some fun first. Here’s your hero and mine - Aurelio Dinelli - trying to have a quiet dinner while his young daughters have got LOT of questions about what he does for a living and what exactly is a “mafeeya”…

Take care m’beauties

Anna

Leandro

By the end of a meeting with Aurelio, I was always desperate for a drink. I’d never known anyone talk as much as my best friend. He could make a two-hour meeting last all day, indulging his obsession with detail and his determination to make sure his inner circle knew his thoughts on every aspect of their businesses.

By the end of the afternoon, Alessandro and I had practically run to the boss’s sitting room to knock back as much of his alcohol as we could.

‘At the price I pay for that wine, at least swirl it on your tongue before gulping it down,’ he told me crossly.

That was Aurelio all over—an expert on everything from wine to women. I’d given up trying to appear as cultured and poised as him years ago. If being like the boss meant drinking wine that cost more than the average car and listening to all that classical music shit, then I’d happily take the hit to my reputation. Who gave a shit if I liked Madonna more than fucking Beethoven anyway?

‘Can you actually tell the difference?’ Alessandro asked him curiously. ‘Between the store-bought shit Leandro and I drink and your high-end stuff, I mean?’

‘Your wine is little better than paint stripper, Alessandro, which is the only use I’d ever have for it.’ He took a sip from his glass. ‘Smooth, rounded, elegantly balanced—this isn’t a wine you drink, this is a wine you practically make love to.’

Alessandro snorted and I laughed out loud. He really could be a pretentious prick sometimes. I loved Aurelio like a brother, but there were times I just couldn’t help laughing at him.

‘Philistines,’ Aurelio told us coldly, but he was smiling as he stretched out on the sofa. He’d given up on trying to educate the pair of us. We preferred beer to wine, the movies to the ballet, and rock music to Chopin, and there was no point him trying to teach us otherwise.

‘So, you want a breakdown on coke routes?’ I asked him, but he held his hand up to stop me, and I closed my mouth immediately as his daughters came into the room.

I’d always felt a bit sorry for Angelina and Livia. The poor kids lived more in a boot camp than a home. Their mother was gentle as fuck and Aurelio wasn’t cruel to them in any way, but he did believe in extreme discipline. I’d never met such well-behaved little girls, but I thought—and Alessandro agreed—that they should be allowed a bit more fun.

‘Daddy?’ Angelina put her hand up.

Six years old and he still expected his girls to raise their hands before speaking to him. I made a mental note to offer some babysitting and give those girls all the sweets, popcorn, and trashy kids movies they could handle.

‘You may speak,’ Aurelio told her benignly. ‘How are your Latin classes going?’

The poor kid was studying Latin at six years old?

‘Good, thank you, Daddy. May I ask you something?’

Aurelio smiled at his daughter. ‘You may.’

‘Daddy, the girls at my school were talking about you.’ She gave him a worried look. ‘They said you do bad things,’ she said quietly. ‘Really bad things.’

‘Bad things—in what respect?’

Angelina’s voice lowered and she almost whispered. ‘They told me you throw people in the river. I told them you didn’t, but they said I didn’t know anything and your job is killing people.’

Aurelio looked almost stunned for a second. ‘They told you I kill people?’

‘I told them you would never hurt anyone,’ Angelina reassured him quickly. ‘I told them how nice you are.’

Alessandro burst into fits of laughter and Aurelio glared at him. ‘Behave or get out.’

‘I’ll behave,’ he promised through his laughter. ‘This is too good to miss.’

‘Daddy…what exactly is your job?’

Now there was a question no mob boss ever wanted to be asked by his young daughters. They were both looking at him expectantly, hoping for an answer they could take back to school to stop what they believed were the lies of their little friends.

‘I’m a businessman,’ he said after a pause.

‘What kind of business, Daddy?’

It wasn’t very often we got to see Aurelio flustered or struggling for words. But this question was obviously one he hadn’t anticipated being asked for a few years at least, and it was clear he had no idea how to answer it.

‘I own clubs and casinos,’ he told her vaguely. ‘A lot of people work for me.’

‘Daddy, is it true that when you argue with people you put their bodies in the river?’

More than fucking true. The Hudson would burst its banks one day with the amount of enemies we’d chucked in it. He’d got me slinging corpses into unused quarries recently, as we’d decided we might have chucked a few too many in the river over the last couple of years.

‘Who told you that?’ he demanded.

‘Gemma.’

‘Tell me her surname. I’ll be discussing this with her parents.’

Angelina’s lip was starting to wobble, but she managed to reply with the name he wanted.

‘Daddy, why do you put people in the river?’ Livia piped up. ‘Won’t they drown?’

‘He kills them first,’ Angelina explained to her younger sister. ‘He doesn’t put them in the river until they’re dead.’

Livia looked at her father with interest. ‘Why, Daddy?’

‘Gemma says he does it when they make him angry… He runs them over with his car and then puts them in the river.’

The car thing was a bit out of left field, but I supposed that was all little girls could come up with when trying to imagine how grown-ups killed each other. And I was glad. I didn’t want the real images in the heads of my goddaughters. They’d never sleep again if they were forced to visualise their father slowly dismembering people while still alive.

‘Why the river, Daddy?’ Livia asked him. ‘Why don’t you bury them in the ground like Mommy does when our gerbils die?’

‘I don’t put people in rivers!’ Aurelio exploded.

I nudged Alessandro. ‘Help him out.’

‘No fucking way,’ he told me with a grin. ‘This is too much fun.’

Angelina turned to Alessandro shyly. ‘Uncle Alessandro, do you help Daddy put people in the river?’

‘Not me,’ Alessandro protested. He grinned at me. ‘But I can’t speak for your Uncle Leandro.’

‘Do you help Daddy with the river bodies?’ Livia asked me, looking like she was about to cry.

I stretched my arm out and pulled her towards me. I’d known the girls since they were babies and they both liked and trusted me.

‘Of course not. Sweetheart, how many people are saying this about your Daddy? Just one or two of your friends?’

She chewed her hair for a second. ‘Not many.’

I grinned at Aurelio in relief. ‘Just a couple of schoolgirls, nothing to worry about.’

‘All the other girls think Daddy runs the…’ She thought for a moment. ‘Mafeeya. Daddy, what’s a Mafeeya?’

Shit this was getting a bit close to home.

‘It’s where bad people go to do crimes.’ Angelina looked at Aurelio with big, troubled eyes. ‘Daddy, you’re not in a Mafeeya, are you?’

Aurelio had clearly had enough. He pressed a button on the intercom and spoke firmly into it before pouring himself another glass of wine. I laughed silently to myself—he didn’t take his own pretentious advice about swirling it on his tongue this time, he just threw it down his throat in one go.

‘Aurelio?’ His beautiful wife came in and kissed his cheek before smiling at me and Alessandro. We both loved his wife, and though we’d never dare tell him, we admired her immensely for being able to put up with the tyrant that was her husband.

‘The girls have questions,’ Aurelio murmured. ‘Some of the girls at school have been talking.’

Rose turned to face her girls kindly. ‘What’s worrying you, Angelina?’

Both the little girls spoke at once.

‘They said Daddy puts bodies in the river!’

‘Mommy, what’s a Mafeeya?’

Rose took both of their hands as she sat down. ‘One at a time,’ she said briskly. ‘Angelina, your Daddy most certainly does not put bodies in the river. I can only think someone has misheard and got things very wrong. Your Daddy has put bottles in the river before, but he has promised he won’t do it again.’

‘That’s littering…’ Angelina breathed. ‘That’s so bad.’

‘Yes, it is very naughty. But he knows it was wrong and he won’t do it again.’

She turned to her younger daughter. ‘You mean a “Mafia”, Livia. That word just means a group of families who help each other and run businesses together. Like Uncle Alessandro and Uncle Leandro help Daddy.’

‘Gemma and Sally said Mafias do crimes,’ Angelina questioned Rose.

‘Some people get the wrong idea and make it sound scary, but it’s mostly just grown-ups working together.’ She laughed. ‘You can’t imagine your Daddy and your uncles doing crimes, can you?’

Angelina looked relieved. ‘No.’

‘Exactly! Poor Uncle Leandro looks horrified at the very thought of it!’

Poor Uncle Leandro was actually admiring the deft and confident way she reassured her girls. It made me laugh that Aurelio, who was so powerful and erudite in his business life, always ended up hiding behind his wife when asked awkward questions by his children.

Livia patted my leg. ‘I’m sorry, Uncle Leandro.’

Angelina ran over and hugged her father. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy. I know you’d never do anything as bad as putting people in the river. Though,’ she said sternly, ‘it is bad to litter. You shouldn’t do that. If you put things you shouldn’t in the river, it can make the fish poorly.’

Aurelio’s face at the lecture from his young daughter was a picture, and even Rose was struggling not to laugh. Angelina looked delighted to have the moral high ground over her father, and I suspected he hadn’t heard the last about his immoral littering ways.

‘Daddy, when I grow up can I be in the Mafia?’ Livia asked thoughtfully. ‘I could go to work with you every day and we could eat hot dogs for lunch.’

‘Tell you what,’ Rose suggested, ‘how about you, me, and Angelina think about a job that might suit you better, and while we’re doing that we can open some cans of sausages and make hot dogs for dinner?’

Aurelio opened his mouth to object, no doubt to tell his wife he wouldn’t eat processed junk food if his life depended on it, but Rose silenced him with a look.

‘We will all be having hot dogs for dinner,’ she said firmly. ‘Some of us because we like them and some of us because we’ve caused a lot of trouble today by letting rumours about bottles being put in the river be spread round the school playground.’

‘Can we stay to dinner?’ I asked.

Rose just nodded with a smile.

I grinned at Alessandro. It hadn’t been such a bad day after all—we’d drunk three bottles of the boss’s best wine, got to see him soundly told off by his young daughter and ordered about by his wife—and now we were going to enjoy watching him reluctantly chomp his way through a kid’s meal instead of his usual elaborate, chef-prepared dinners.

And next time the boss pissed me off? I was going straight to his kids to tell them I’d seen him chucking wine bottles in the river again.

I do love writing bonus content, it’s usually a bit more light hearted and family focused than the darkness I put my poor characters through in the books and it’s a lot of fun to write.

So seeing as book seven is all written, edited and lined up to be published on May 15th I thought we’d have some lighthearted fun with Aurelio before the dark dark horrors that await you in ‘Tortured Innocence.’…

Thanks to all those who have signed up for the book 7 ARC, they will be sent out 28th April. There’s still space left if anyone else wants to join!

Anna

Spoilers for book 3 and beyond (but nothing you wouldn’t know from the blurbs)

No frogs are harmed in this story.

……………………………………………………………….

Rose

Manners were important to my powerful husband. I knew a lot of people were horrified by how formal their Capo dei Capi was, particularly by the etiquette he demanded at meal times. Nobody was ever seated before my husband and nobody left the table without his permission. I’d got used to it now and it didn’t bother me. My children were used to it too. They’d grown up with their father’s strict rules and had never known anything different.

My sister Eloise hated Aurelio’s rules and said it was cruel that he made our girls raise their hands for permission before speaking. We hadn’t been brought up like that and she was shocked I stood for it in my home. But Aurelio insisted his discipline was bringing our children up properly. And Aurelio was always right.

So when I went into our formal dining room, expecting to see my girls smartly dressed and standing by their chairs ready to be seated for dinner, I was surprised to see them both crawling on the floor.

‘Angelina,’ I told her sternly, ‘your father doesn’t like to see play at mealtimes.’

She backed out from under the table. ‘I’m not playing…’

‘Then stand politely and wait for your father.’

‘She can’t,’ Livia chimed in gleefully. ‘She’s lost her frogs.’

‘Lost her what?’ I’d heard, but I just wanted a few more seconds before I had to face the reality that there were frogs hopping round my dining room minutes before Aurelio and his guests arrived.

I tried to think who was coming for dinner. Alessandro—he’d be fine. I loved my brother-in-law to bits. Leandro was always quite laid back too. Dante and Nico I didn’t know as well though—I hated the thought of embarrassing Aurelio in front of his senior men.

‘How many frogs?’ I asked my eldest daughter.

‘All of them,’ she answered gloomily.

‘How many is all of them?’

She held up a large box. ‘They were all in here.’

‘But how many were in there?’

‘Seventeen, I think.’

What my eldest daughter was doing with a box of seventeen frogs I didn’t know. Nor did I know if it was appropriate ‘frog keeping’ to store them in a box. If she wanted a pet frog her father would buy her a vivarium and all the equipment to keep the frog safe and happy. But what was she doing, just picking them out of the garden?

‘It could be worse,’ Livia piped up. ‘It could have been the bug box that got loose.’

Ok, I was going through my daughter’s room at the first opportunity and finding out what other living creatures she was keeping as pets. But my first priority had to be finding these frogs.

‘Did you lose them all in here?’

‘I tripped over and the box fell open.’

‘What were you doing bringing frogs to dinner anyway? Why on earth would you think that was a good idea?’

‘She puts the box under the table and slips them a bit of the fish course.’

I had to smile at Livia’s snitching. I’d been much the same with my sister. I’d always told on Eloise’s escapades. Though even Eloise had never gone so far as to bring frogs to dinner.

‘We’ll discuss that later,’ I told them firmly. ‘The important thing now is to find all these frogs and get them back into your box before your father and the other senior men of the Mafia come in to dinner.’

The concept of senior men in the Mafia was lost on my girls but the tone in my voice certainly wasn’t. I was panicking as much as they were now. Seventeen frogs loose in my dining room before my exacting husband hosted a dinner? Aurelio even noticed if the cutlery wasn’t aligned correctly. I’d seen him reduce waiting staff to tears for not serving him first at dinner.

A horrible thought hit me. ‘What kind of frogs, Angelina?’

‘Lots of different kinds.’ She twisted her fingers together and then blurted out, ‘One of them can kill ten men.’

‘What the absolute…?’ I didn’t know enough about the amphibian life of New York to know if the frogs here were poisonous or not, but I knew some frogs and toads could be toxic. This dinner might not just embarrass my husband, it might kill him as well.

‘Find them,’ I snapped at her. ‘Under the table, both of you. Get as many as you can in the box.’ I shoved Angelina toward the top end of the table, Livia to the bottom, and then knelt on the floor to start checking under the rest of the furniture in the room myself.

‘Got one!’ Livia cried triumphantly.

‘Put it in the box then.’ I peeked at it cautiously through the side of the box. ‘Was that the one that can kill ten men?’

‘No.’

No, of course it wasn’t. And what was I even doing, letting my girls look for creatures that harmful? I was a terrible mother.

I stood up quickly. ‘Both of you, out from under the table. I want you both standing on chairs. You spot the frogs, I’ll catch them.’

‘There’s two under the table, Mom,’ Angelina supplied helpfully. ‘Be careful though, the green one pees on you.’

Oh wonderful. I was wearing Versace, about to be adorned with frog urine. I doubted this could get any worse.

A male cough interrupted my frog catching and I hit my head on the table backing out.

‘You ok, Rose?’ Alessandro asked me with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Why’s your mom under the table, girls?’

I knew he’d find this whole thing hilarious but I also knew that two frog catchers would get this nightmare over quicker than one.

‘The girls have dropped their frogs,’ I told him shortly. ‘I need them caught before Aurelio comes to dinner.’

‘You’ve got a few minutes. He’s taken Leandro to go through some figures. Frogs though?’ He grinned at me. ‘He’ll go nuclear if he finds out.’

‘Then help me find the fucking things.’

‘Mom!’ Livia looked at me, shocked. ‘You said a bad word.’

‘I’ll say a lot more bad words if your uncle Alessandro doesn’t get under this table and start helping me catch these pesky hopping monsters.’

At the direction of Angelina, still safely standing on her chair, we managed to cram most of her frogs into the box. I counted them doubtfully.

‘How many did you say you have?’

‘Seventeen…’ There was a long pause before she admitted truthfully, ‘I think.’

‘You think? So you don’t know.’

I lifted the lid and counted again. Seventeen. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure as they all hopped around so much, but I thought we’d got them all.

‘One of them squirted me with water,’ Alessandro said indignantly. ‘It’s all over my shirt.’

Both my girls immediately opened their mouths but I glared at them quickly. I had enough to deal with without having to apologise to my brother-in-law for frog pee. I shoved the lid on the box.

‘Can they breathe in there, Angelina?’

‘I keep it propped open at the side for air.’

‘So that’s how they escaped!’ I thought quickly. ‘Livia, go ask cook for a sharp barbecue spike. Don’t tell her what it’s for.’

Angelina’s lower lip wobbled and she ran to Alessandro and flung her arms round his waist. ‘Mom’s going to kill my frogs,’ she wept. ‘She’s going to stab them and barbecue them!’

Alessandro was doing his best not to laugh but he put his arm round his niece.

‘I won’t let her, sweetheart. How about instead of skewering them we use the spike to put some holes in the lid so the frogs can breathe?’

‘That’s what the spike was for!’ I snapped at him.

But he just grinned at me. ‘Rose Dinelli, wife of the Capo and frog murderer.’

I was almost tempted to ask Angelina to run upstairs for her bug box and tip the lot over Alessandro. But I didn’t have time. Aurelio would be here any second and I still had to ensure a bunch of frogs could breathe before anyone took table.

‘Give it to me,’ I ordered Angelina as soon as she reappeared. ‘Now Alessandro, hold the box still.’

I was just about to carefully poke a hole in the box when Leandro wandered in. He looked at the box curiously. ‘What’s that?’

‘Frogs,’ Alessandro told him airily.

‘Yeah? For dinner?’

Alessandro just shoved him. ‘Don’t be an idiot. Live frogs. Is Aurelio on his way?’

‘He’s showing Dante some boring poetry book he’s had shipped from Italy.’ He yawned. ‘So why have you got live frogs?’

‘They’re mine, Uncle Leandro.’

Leandro ruffled Angelina’s hair. ‘I might have guessed. Don’t let your father see them. We had a frog in a meeting once and Aurelio wouldn’t carry on until I’d caught the fucking thing and put it out of the room.’ He winked at Alessandro. ‘Funny how many times we had meetings with frogs turning up since we discovered the boss doesn’t like them.’

I finally finished putting breathing holes in the box and handed it back to Angelina.

‘Don’t open it, put it somewhere safe and don’t mention frogs again this evening.’

‘He’s coming,’ Alessandro hissed at me.

‘Quick! Take your places, girls.’

We were just in time to stand behind our chairs when Aurelio and two of his top men strolled in. He glanced round the room, doing his customary check of the girls’ dress and appearance. His eyes flickered slightly with surprise when he looked at me but he said nothing, just sat down and motioned for everyone else to do the same.

I smoothed my hair self-consciously and wished I had a mirror. I must look a state after crawling under the table. I’d apologise to him later when we were on our own.

‘What did you learn at school today?’ he asked the girls.

Angelina put her hand up. ‘Please, Daddy, we learned that the Nile is the longest river in the world.’

‘And I learned some plants eat insects,’ Livia told him proudly. She looked with interest at the flowers on the table. ‘We could get Angelina’s bug box and…’

I met her eyes and shook my head at her but it didn’t matter. Aurelio was frowning at Angelina. ‘The Amazon is the longest river in the world.’

‘My teacher said…’

Aurelio held up his hand to silence her. ‘Your teacher is incorrect. Rose, ensure the teacher is corrected. The Nile is only longer if the Amazon’s true source in Peru is not considered.’

‘You’ve done it now,’ Alessandro told his niece with a wink. ‘You’ve made your father hopping mad.’

They both giggled and Leandro laughed out loud. I tried to keep a straight face and not burst out laughing but a snort exploded out of me and Aurelio looked at me in astonishment.

‘Eat, everyone,’ I said hurriedly. ‘Nico, Dante, I hope you both like French food. French onion soup is a favourite of Aurelio’s. He even permits the cook to use his best wines in it.’

They both assured me they were looking forward to the meal and I relaxed for the first time that evening. Both the girls were on their best behaviour, the soup starter had been served, Alessandro had stopped teasing me about frogs and I settled down to listen to Aurelio’s interesting comments on current affairs. There was always someone in Congress annoying my husband—usually when they were passing laws to tighten up money laundering.

‘Amazing food,’ Leandro told me. ‘I’d offer your cook double salary to work for me, but your husband would probably shoot me.’

‘We’ve always been very traditional with our meals,’ I explained. ‘But I wanted the girls to be aware of other cultures than Italian so we’ve been trying some more European dinners lately.’

I was finally about to start my own dinner when there was a massive splash at the head of the table. Soup flew everywhere, drenching my powerful husband who was staring, almost terrified, at the thrashing in his bowl.

Alessandro and Leandro started laughing hysterically.

‘French food?’ Alessandro shouted at his brother. ‘You do know your cook’s supposed to cook the fucking frog legs first?’

‘Frog?’ Aurelio stood up in a hurry. ‘Rose, what the hell?’

‘Aurelio… I can explain…’

Angelina looked at me sadly. Aurelio was so strict with her. A box of frogs would lose her most of the summer to extra lessons. A frog in his soup would probably mean Latin lessons with him for life. I couldn’t bear my daughter looking so upset.

He was still looking at me expectantly. ‘Go on?’

I opened my mouth with no idea what I was going to say, probably to confess that the stray amphibian belonged to me. I was the only person who ever escaped Aurelio’s wrath so I could confess without worrying.

But Dante beat me to it. ‘It’s frog season,’ he told his boss with a straight face. ‘They’ve been coming in our house too.’

Leandro took the cue. ‘Yeah, same in ours. They jump up and scare Gabriella.’

‘Frog season…’ my husband echoed.

‘Frog season,’ I confirmed firmly. ‘But look, Angelina and Livia have been catching them for you as they know you don’t like them. They’ve caught seventeen today already!’ I quickly brandished the box at him. ‘It’s so thoughtful of them, Aurelio. More evidence of how well you’ve raised our children.’

‘You’re good girls,’ my husband told them, fishing in his pockets for a moment before brandishing a stack of hundred-dollar bills at them. ‘You both deserve a treat.’

The girls stared at their unexpected windfall in awe as Aurelio went to change his shirt.

‘I’ll catch the frog,’ Alessandro told me with a laugh. ‘Want me to stick it in the garden?’

‘I think so, yes. I think this house has given up on frog keeping.’

‘Do my bugs have to go too?’ Angelina asked mournfully.

I thought for a moment. ‘No, they can stay.’ I winked at Alessandro. ‘You never know, they might come in useful one day, like the frogs did.’

All the grown-ups laughed but my girls just looked puzzled and went back to counting their hundred dollar bills.

Hi everyone,

There wasn’t room in Dark Atonement for this. It’s mentioned that Alexi takes Eloise to England but I thought we’d enjoy seeing what happens when they go. He’s on his best behaviour but when a high ranking murderous Bratva gangster meets a middle class English family there’s bound to be challenges…

Thanks for all your ongoing support everyone. I really appreciate each and every one of my readers.

Anna

Bonus Content

Alexi and Eloise go to England

March 1990
Eloise

Alexi automatically patted the gun in his jacket as he helped me out of the black cab when we arrived at the hotel. The first thing he’d done after we’d cleared English customs was meet up with a local contact to get firearms for him and the six men he’d brought from New York to act as security.

‘Doesn’t look much like a hotel,’ he told me loudly, glancing around the foyer distrustfully. ‘Looks more like fucking Buckingham Palace.’

The perfectly manicured receptionist looked up from the desk and stared at him, almost in horror. I guessed they didn’t have many Russian gangsters turning up with a full security entourage and swearing at the top of their voices.

‘It’s an old stately home,’ I whispered, shifting the baby in my arms uncomfortably. ‘A lot of them have become hotels because the upkeep is too expensive to maintain as a family home. My parents like it here because it’s very formal and dignified.’

‘Yeah…? Well it had better be fucking secure too.’ He turned to the receptionist. ‘Kostrov. If someone asks for my room number, what do you tell them?’

It was clearly a question that nobody had ever asked before, as panic flitted quickly over the receptionist’s face. Her training clearly hadn’t equipped her to deal with guests like Alexi.

I interrupted before my husband could draw the conclusion I knew he would from the silence. ‘The staff are trained not to give out personal details, Alexi. They would always ask you first before giving out your room number.’

‘Ok. Cameras? Who monitors them?’

‘My husband is just cautious,’ I explained, aware that not only was the receptionist gawking at us, we’d also drawn a crowd of other staff and guests who were watching in fascination. ‘Perhaps if we could just have our room key?’

‘How many keys are there to the room?’ Alexi demanded.

‘Three, sir. Two guest and one master.’

‘I’ll take all three.’

‘It’s hotel policy just to issue two, sir. The hotel reserves the right to access the room in case of emergency.’

‘There will be a fucking emergency if you don’t hand all three keys to me.’

I held my hand out with a sigh and accepted the two keys that were offered. ‘Perhaps we could just agree housekeeping between specific hours?’ I suggested. ‘And no access at any other times. Privacy is very important to my husband.’

The receptionist agreed with relief and, although Alexi looked like he still wanted to argue with her, I pulled him away gently and led him up to our room.

I watched as Alexi prowled every inch of the suite, testing windows and scowling when they didn’t open far enough. His lip curled at the hospitality tray.

‘Like I’d be fucking stupid enough to eat or drink anything set out for me.’

His horror as he came out after inspecting the bathroom really made me giggle.

‘No shower—one tap that’s too fucking hot and another that’s too fucking cold. How much am I paying for this?’

‘Things are just different in England,’ I explained. ‘It’s older than America and a lot of the buildings haven’t changed much since Victorian times.’

‘I don’t think the fucking wallpaper has changed since Victorian times.’

But his eyes lit up when he saw the bed. ‘Ok, they know what they’re doing here.’

He reached out to run his hand down one of the posts and tested the sturdiness, grinning at me. ‘I never knew the Victorians were so kinky.’

‘It’s just a bed, Alexi.’

His smile was knowing. ‘Sure it is. I’ll show you later exactly why they built it like this.’

I ignored the sudden warmth between my legs. We had to get through dinner with my parents first before we went anywhere near the bed. And given how my husband had reacted to England—and England had reacted to my husband—so far, I had an uneasy feeling that tonight’s dinner might not go as smoothly as I had hoped.

***

I rushed into my mother’s arms and hugged her, then threw my arms around my father. I’d missed them both so much. I’d only intended to go to the States for a few weeks, but it had been over a year since I’d last seen my family.

‘This is my husband,’ I told them awkwardly as we broke apart. ‘Alexi Kostrov.’

‘How do you do?’ my mother asked politely, though I could see the shock in her eyes at the sight of my powerful gangster husband. Whatever kind of man she had expected me to marry, Alexi definitely wasn’t it.

Alexi grinned at her. ‘Yeah, I’m doing ok. England’s too fucking cold though.’

My parents both winced, but he continued cheerfully.

‘Fucking nightmare sorting the security for a visit, but Eloise really wanted to see you and she’s promised to show me her gratitude later in the way I like best.’

I stopped him before he could go into detail about what I suspected would be me on my knees giving him a blow job—and changed the subject.

‘It’s a lovely hotel, we both really like it and the menu for tonight looks amazing.’ I took Catriona off Alexi. ‘It’s so elegant though—are you sure it was ok to bring her?’

‘My granddaughter?’ my father asked, stroking my baby’s soft hair. ‘We wouldn’t have it any other way. I can’t believe our little girl’s become a mother.’

‘I’ll probably knock her up again soon,’ Alexi announced casually. ‘Russians like big families. I’ll expect a few more kids before I turn thirty.’

‘That’s down to Eloise to decide, surely?’

Alexi just laughed, then realised my mother wasn’t making a joke.

‘Oh right… Our culture is different to yours. In my world wives do as they’re told.’

He was only half joking. It was true that the Bratva saw women as inferior to their husbands, but it was also true that when I put my foot down Alexi ran for cover. I wasn’t the boss in our marriage, but I wasn’t a sweet, dutiful little wife he could impose his will on either. Though from the way both my parents were staring at him in shock, I could see they were imagining the worst.

‘Shall we order?’ I asked brightly, passing Alexi a menu and kicking him under the table at the same time. ‘Father, will you order the wine?’

‘Any particular wine you like?’ he asked Alexi.

‘Most of it just tastes like soap. I’ll stick with vodka.’

My parents ordered their meals and then the waitress turned expectantly to Alexi.

‘And you, sir?’

Alexi looked at her over the top of his reading glasses. ‘Why is the menu in French?’

She blinked. ‘It’s traditional…’

‘Yeah? It’s tradition to not know what the fuck I’m ordering?’

‘Perhaps I could recommend the suprême de poulet with velouté de champignons…’

‘Chicken,’ I whispered quietly under my breath.

I braced myself for his comeback, but to my relief Alexi relaxed. ‘That sounds ok. I’ll have that—and so will my wife.’

‘Eloise can order her own meal.’

My father couldn’t stop himself objecting, but Alexi just looked surprised at the criticism.

‘She likes chicken.’

‘I do,’ I agreed, kicking Alexi again and gazing at my father imploring him not to push it. I’d never be able to explain how the Bratva worked to my parents, and how my husband—despite being happy to treat me like an equal—was part of a misogynistic culture where women were expected to do what their husbands commanded.

‘So Alexi,’ my mother murmured when our first courses arrived, ‘what is it you actually do?’ She flushed. ‘Eloise has told us about… the organisation you belong to, but what role do you play in it?’

Alexi thought for a moment, his fork paused on the way to his mouth.

‘Killing, mainly. My elder brother decides who needs to be killed and then I gut them for him.’ He seemed to realise how inappropriate his response was because he quickly added, ‘I sell a lot of heroin from the Middle East too.’

My parents were no strangers to the wrong side of the law, but my father’s illegal art business was worlds apart from drugs and murder. They just stared at him, slack-jawed.

‘Alexi runs a lot of businesses too,’ I explained, glowering at him. ‘He’s a successful New York businessman. The crime stuff is only part of the picture.’

‘The fun part,’ Alexi added with a grin. ‘I’d rather gut someone than do paperwork.’

‘And how did you meet?’ my mother asked faintly.

This time I jumped in first. I wouldn’t put it past Alexi to tell her the whole story of him being tricked into forcing me to submit to sex. Much as I hated my cousin, he was my mother’s nephew and I didn’t want her knowing Aurelio was capable of using her daughter as bait.

Besides, I didn’t want my parents worrying themselves sick about me the moment I went back to the States. I’d never expected them to be reassured by meeting Alexi, but I wanted him to leave the most positive impression he could.

‘We met at his club,’ I said firmly. ‘Alessandro took me and Isabella dancing there.’ I didn’t point out that in New York the idea of the Mafia and the Bratva dancing at each other’s clubs was ludicrous. My parents didn’t know any better. ‘We hit it off from the moment we first met and things just grew from there.’

Alexi laughed loudly but subsided after a sharp look from me. What mattered was that we were in love with each other now. The long, painful journey to our happiness I intended to keep to myself.

‘And decided to marry with no family there?’ my father asked. ‘Rose was distraught to miss your wedding.’ He gave Alexi a cold look. ‘She was devastated to miss tonight too, so was Jamie, but you didn’t exactly give us much notice for this visit.’

‘Security is tighter if things happen quickly,’ I told them apologetically. ‘Alexi and his brothers don’t take the risk of planning things too far in advance.’

‘Three days notice? And will you be coming back again? Can we expect this to be a regular thing? Will we be able to watch our granddaughter grow up?’

‘It won’t be often,’ Alexi told him brutally. ‘I’m taking a fucking risk every time I leave the States and the bigger my family gets, the bigger the risk. But seeing you is important to my wife, so I’ll bring her again.’

‘You could come and visit us?’ I suggested, but I saw the way my mother looked at my father in panic. She hadn’t been back to America since she left to marry him and I knew she was afraid to go back.

‘You’d be safe with us,’ Alexi told her perceptively. ‘If you’re not safe with the fucking Bratva, then you’re not safe with anyone.’ He looked at me in confusion for a moment. ‘Though isn’t the Italian Capo her brother?’

‘Yes, but it’s a long story.’

He shrugged. ‘Well, the offer’s there. My wife’s parents are always welcome in my home.’

He stood up and threw his napkin down on the table.

‘Ok, I’m taking her to bed now, but we’ll do dinner again before we fly back.’

‘You must be tired…’ my mother said politely. ‘We understand.’

Alexi looked at her blankly for a moment, then his brow cleared.

‘No, I slept on the plane. But the hotel has this bed that’s just fucking made for bondage and we want to try it out.’

And he stalked from the dining room with the confidence of a man who genuinely believed he’d made a good impression on his in-laws.

‘He’s…’ I began.

‘He’s your husband and you love him,’ my mother interrupted. ‘That’s all that needs to be said. And Eloise, I can tell from the way he looks at you that the love works both ways.’ She kissed my cheek. ‘All we ever wanted was for you to be happy—and you are.’

My heart was light as I skipped through our suite to find my husband, who I knew with total certainty would already be tying things to the posts of the four-poster bed in preparation for the night of kinky sex he’d got planned.

He wasn’t a man I’d ever expected to take home to my parents.

But they were right. I loved him, he loved me, and that was all that mattered.

So here’s the bonus content. Spoilers for book 2 and beyond and trigger warnings for violence, torture and implied sexual violence (Maybe I need to get a dictionary with a better definition of Valentine’s day!).

There’s a lot more bonus content coming this year, book six is out in March and I’ll be sending out details of the ARC for book seven next month too.

In the meantime, enjoy….

………………………………

Rose

‘I honestly don’t mind,’ I told my husband earnestly. ‘In fact it would be nice to have a drink in your club, I’ve only ever been in the back and your office.’

Aurelio glowered at me, ‘You’d think the inept pair could manage without me for one night. Valentine’s day of all nights.’ He glanced at his watch, ‘I’ll only be twenty minutes. I just need to explain some figures to them. If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll get you a drink at the bar and then we can go on to the restaurant.’

‘We’re early for the table anyway,’ I reassured him, ‘Though I don’t suppose that matters…’

I knew Aurelio well enough to know that if a restaurant failed to hold a table for him then the serving staff and the manager would probably be found buried in cement a few days later. It had bothered me in the beginning of my marriage that the man who always treated me with such kindness and respect could treat others with such monstrous violence. But I’d come to terms with the fact that being married to the Capo dei Capi of the Mafia sometimes meant turning a blind eye to things that could never have been imagined in the world I grew up in.

‘Viognier,’ he told the bar attendant without even looking at him or acknowledging the queue he’d just pushed through. ‘I’ll send Alessandro down,’ he told me with a smile. ‘I can just about get Leandro to understand how our revenue streams break down but I’m not even going to try explaining it to my brother. He can keep you company instead.’

He settled me on a private table with my wine. ‘Twenty minutes,’ he promised. ‘Then we’re back to Valentine’s Day. I’ll make it up to you with diamonds later.’

I laughed, if he gave me any more diamonds I could open my own jewellery shop.

‘Dinner will be fine,’ I told him firmly. But he just smiled and walked away.

I’d only been sat on my own for a few minutes when a man I didn’t recognise sat down at the table next to me. I shifted a bit in the chair uneasily. I didn’t like anyone except Aurelio sitting that close to me but I was always very uncomfortable asking people to move.

‘I’m new to New York,’ he announced—breathing whisky fumes all over me as he spoke. ‘But if all the women here are as hot as you then I’ll be sticking around for a while.’ He burped, then leaned forward to get even closer. ‘What’s your name, pretty?’

‘Rose,’ I replied quietly. He needed to go away. If Aurelio found a man sitting this close to me then he wouldn’t stop to ask questions. But I still hesitated. I always found being rude so difficult.

‘Steve,’ he said to me with a leer. ‘Get you a drink?’

I shook my head and pointed at the wine Aurelio had given me. ‘No thank you.’

‘No thank you,’ he mimicked in a high voice. ‘You’re not American?’

‘English.’

‘English? Yeah, I can tell. You’ve got that don’t touch me face.’

My don’t touch me face was nothing to do with being English, it was because he was disgusting, drunk and uncomfortably predatory. But I said nothing, I just hoped he’d take the hint and go pester someone else.

But he didn’t, instead he got even closer and pressed his thigh up against mine. ‘Makes me want to touch you more,’ he told me suggestively. ‘You’re a hot piece of ass, Rose.’

‘I’m not interested,’ I told him quietly. ‘Please leave me alone.’

‘Leave you alone? Why? I’m not doing anything. Just being friendly. Christ you women can’t take a joke can you?’

‘I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘I’m not good enough to talk to?’ he demanded belligerently. ‘You think you’re too good for the likes of me? You want to chat me up, get me going and then freeze me out because you’re too scared to know what it feels like to get a real man’s cock up you? I’ll stick it up you, you uptight cunt.’

I didn’t have to answer because the second he’d spewed out his angry filth a fist slammed into his face. I stared in shock as he slumped to the floor.

‘Aurelio will fucking kill him, ‘ Alessandro told me with a hard smile. He clicked his fingers and motioned two security guards to the man on the floor, ‘Take him to the boss’s office. Leandro’s in there with him. Check for weapons first.’ He took my hand gently, ‘You ok darling? Did he touch you?’

I shook my head. ‘Alessandro, he was just drunk and stupid. If you take him to Aurelio…’ I bit my lip. ‘Something like this happened with a man before. Aurelio…killed him.’

He nodded, ‘I remember — The time with the steak knife and the tongue. You only saw the first bit of that punishment sweetheart, you didn’t see what Aurelio ordered to happen when you left.’

‘It got worse?’ I asked faintly.

‘You’re his world. Anyone threatening you can expect the worst type of torture.’ His mouth set in a grim line, ‘And I love you too, I’ll enjoy watching this piece of shit get hurt as much as your husband will.’

Alessandro pushed open the office door and took me inside to where Aurelio and Leandro were standing over the man who was now handcuffed to an office chair. The bravado was gone from his face and from the way he was staring up at my husband in terror, I guessed he’d worked out he’d threatened the wrong woman.

‘Repeat what you said to my wife,’ Aurelio told him coldly.

‘Look, I’m not after any trouble. If she’s yours she’s yours. I’ll keep my hands off her. I get it.’

I remembered what he had told me when he sat down. ‘He’s only just arrived in New York,’ I told Aurelio uncomfortably, ‘He might not know who you are.’

‘I don’t,’ the man interrupted in a mixture of fear and relief. ‘If you’re someone important then I’m sorry. I should have checked first before going anywhere near her.’

‘You’ve never heard of the Mafia?’ Leandro asked casually. ‘Why do I find that hard to believe?’

The colour drained out of the man’s face and if his hands hadn’t been bound he’d have thrown them up to plead with the men before him.

‘Shit,’ he whispered, ‘The Mafia…seriously? I’m so fucking sorry.’ The last words were almost garbled he was so desperate to apologise. ‘I didn’t know this was a Mafia run club or I’d never have—Seriously, I’d never…’ He turned his head toward me, ‘I apologise,’ he begged me, I should have left you alone, I’m so sorry.’

Alessandro interrupted the babbled pleas. ‘He threatened to rape her,’ he told Aurelio lightly. ‘He wasn’t just flirting with her, he was intimidating her and making threats.’

The cold smile my husband was famous for flickered across his face. ‘Then the next three minutes of your life will mark the end of your life.’

‘He was drunk,’ I told Aurelio. ‘I don’t think it was a genuine threat.’

‘Irrelevant,’ Aurelio replied brutally. ‘He made an unwelcome sexual comment to the woman I love. He will pay for that with his life.’

‘He called her an uptight cunt too. Said she needed to know what it felt like to get a real man’s cock up her.’ Alessandro was clearly determined that the worst punishment his brother could devise should be the one chosen.

I warmed at how protective both my husband and brother in law were but I wished the violence wasn’t necessary. Yes this Steve was an uncouth and unpleasant man but I didn’t think he had actually intended to carry his threat out. It had been the alcohol talking. But that wouldn’t matter to Aurelio. I knew with a sinking feeling from the way he was meditatively studying the begging man that he was simply deciding how his victim would die.

He looked at Leandro meaningfully, ‘He threatened to rape my wife.’

Leandro nodded as an unspoken understanding passed between them. ‘I’ll sort it.’

‘Good. I’ll leave him with you. He believed Rose should know how it feels to have a real man’s cock inside her. Make the punishment fit the crime.’

Leandro and Alessandro both laughed at his words but I didn’t see what was so amusing.

My husband gently gripped my elbow to escort me from the room and take me to our Valentine’s dinner and it was only as I looked back over my shoulder and saw Leandro unzipping his pants that I realised exactly what Aurelio had ordered him to do.

I clenched my jaw as I followed Alessandro and his brother out of the toom. But I had chosen to marry Aurelio Dinelli and this was the life he came with.

I finished my dinner and shared a bottle of champagne and a romantic Valentine’s day with my husband without giving the man left behind in his office another thought.

Last one will be out tomorrow on Valentine’s Day and that one will have Aurelio in (lol)

Anna

Isabella

I was absolutely full of food. Nikolai loved making Valentine’s Day special for me and had spent an incredible sum on dinner in the best French restaurant in New York. We’d had twelve courses. I’d been a bit worried when I saw how small the first one was, but by the time we’d reached the cheese board I was full to bursting.

I looked down at the diamond bracelet on my wrist and admired the way it caught the light. Nikolai always knew exactly what gift to get me. It went so beautifully with my new dress. I hiccuped as I leaned my head on his shoulder in the car. Vintage champagne always gave me hiccups and I’d drunk at least a bottle of it.

‘What are your brothers doing for Valentine’s?’ I asked, snuggling up to him for warmth. ‘They can’t top this, surely?’

‘Anton’s flying Serena out to Russia. As for Alexi…’ I heard the disapproval in his voice and sat up a bit.

‘Go on…’

‘They’re away tonight but he’s got a surprise for her when they get back. And she’ll definitely be surprised. He’s such a deviant sometimes.’

I tried not to giggle. Eloise was very frank about her romantic life with Alexi and I knew they were both into S&M. I’d been shocked a couple of times when she’d shown me her bruises, but she was a tough girl and would definitely say no to her husband if she didn’t want to do something. She’d told me she loved what she called pain play as much as he did.

‘What’s his surprise?’ I asked innocently. ‘Don’t be a tease, Nikolai, you’ve got to tell me now.’

‘He’s made part of the basement into a…’ He cleared his throat. ‘A play dungeon. He took me and Anton down there yesterday. Honestly, it looks like something out of a porn film. He even had the nerve to ask if I wanted the code to get in.’

‘Did he give you it?’

‘Yep. He’s such a narcissist he used his own date of birth.’

I sat up fully straight and put on my most wheedling voice. ‘Can we go see it?’

‘Isabella, it’s nothing that would interest us and your brother would have a fit if I took his little sister into a sex dungeon. He probably won’t be happy even if he finds out you live in the same house as one.’

Nikolai would never admit it but he was scared of my brother. It was nothing to be ashamed of, though. Everyone was scared of my brother. Aurelio Dinelli was the cruellest boss the Mafia had ever had. On the rare occasions we were invited to dinner at his house I could feel the tension between Aurelio and my husband in the air. Though, of all the Kostrov brothers, Nikolai was the one Aurelio tolerated most. If I’d asked to marry Alexi I’d probably have been locked up by my brother until I begged him for a more suitable husband.

‘Please, Nikolai…’ I forced a sad note into my voice. ‘It’s Valentine’s Day.’

‘Issabella,’ he said, amused but exasperated, ‘I’ve taken you out for the best food and wine money can buy, I’ve given you flowers, chocolates and diamonds. Everything that makes Valentine’s special, it’s happened for you.’

I pouted at him. ‘But I want to see Alexi’s dungeon.’ I poked him gently. ‘Just a quick look…’ I said winningly. ‘I promise I’ll be worth it when we go to bed after.’

‘You’ll fall asleep…’ But the warmth in his voice told me I was convincing him.

‘One little peep, then your curvy Mafia princess will strip to her panties for you.’

I knew how to get Nikolai going. He was very giving in the bedroom and nothing excited him more than my enthusiasm for his lovemaking. He loved it when I took the lead and put on a strip show before pushing him back on the bed and climbing on top of him.

‘One look,’ he said with a sigh, ‘but if you’re shocked we leave immediately and I’m not explaining any of Alexi’s weird shit to you.’

I grabbed his hand as soon as the car pulled up and waited impatiently while he paid the driver. ‘Come on,’ I urged him, ‘I’m so curious now!’ I dragged him down to the basement and tapped my feet while he entered the code to the door I’d never seen before.

‘Ok,’ he said after a couple of attempts to remember his brother’s birthdate. ‘But we’re straight out of there if it upsets you.’ He swung the door open, took my hand and walked me inside.

I’d never seen anything like it. I looked around in fascination. It was like a modern version of a medieval torture chamber. There was even a cage. Alexi and Eloise were so much more adventurous than we were. I felt naughty when I wore skimpy lingerie. But I was very intrigued by it all.

‘Just to be clear,’ Nikolai said calmly, ‘no I don’t share my brother’s interests and no I don’t feel I’m missing out on anything because you don’t do for me what Eloise does for Alexi.’

‘He hits her with things,’ I told him comfortably, ‘but it’s ok because she loves it.’ I walked over to the wall and picked up one of the thinner-looking canes. ‘He uses things like this on her. I wonder what it feels like…’

‘Isabella…’

‘There’s nobody here,’ I reassured him. ‘Nobody else even in the house, we’re totally private.’ I stood on tiptoe to kiss him. ‘I promised you a striptease—how about I do it here?’ I handed him the cane. ‘I’m so curious, Nikolai…’

I didn’t wait for an answer. I unzipped my dress and stepped out of it. Nikolai had also drunk a lot and I could sense his resolve weakening as he stared at me in my pretty matching lacy bra and panties. He loved me in sexy underwear.

I’d spent years being told by my brother to starve myself into the kind of figure he found appealing on a woman, but my husband couldn’t love my curves more. His gaze glided from my breasts to my well-padded tummy—so comfortable for him to rest his head on—and then down to my hips and thighs. He really wanted me; he was already hardening inside his tailored evening trousers. I knew if I took my bra off he’d do anything I asked.

I knelt on a sort of padded bench and jiggled my bottom at Nikolai. ‘If you want me,’ I teased, ‘you’ve got to show me how that cane feels first.’

‘No way am I hurting you,’ he said decisively. ‘Alexi might think showing his love with bruises is romantic but I’m never going to hurt my wife.’ But his breathing was coming faster and heavier. ‘I’ll take you down here if that’s what you want, though,’ he offered. ‘I’ll take you while you’re kneeling on that bench. I just need to push your panties to one side, then…’

‘Use the cane on me first,’ I begged with a giggle. ‘Just a little bit, I don’t want you to hurt me either. Just tap me with it.’ I wasn’t sure if I’d actually like it, but excitement fizzed through me at the thought of it.

He moved forward, raised his arm and then lightly brought the cane down evenly across my bottom. I wiggled a bit, trying to decide if I liked the sensation.

‘Maybe a little bit harder,’ I suggested. ‘Swing it first.’

‘You’re a nightmare,’ he said with a sigh, but he did as I asked and brought the cane down again, harder. ‘Like that?’

‘I do like it…’ I breathed. I could see why Eloise enjoyed this kind of play. I didn’t want to be hit as hard as Alexi hit her, but this was fun.

‘You’re wet,’ Nikolai told me in amusement. ‘Your panties are soaked through. I can’t believe that turned you on.’

‘Let’s try something else!’ I jumped up and handed him a pair of handcuffs. ‘Put my hands behind my back!’

‘Isabella…’

‘Please… fasten my hands and then make love to me while I’m tied up. That’s got to turn you on too?’

‘It does, but I don’t want you to feel out of control.’

‘That’s the whole point. I want to feel helpless. Eloise says nothing does it for her more than when Alexi ties her up and does whatever he wants to her.’

‘I’ll restrain you,’ Nikolai said firmly, ‘but only to make love to you. I don’t care what Eloise and Alexi get up to, I love you too much to risk hurting you, even accidentally. And if I hadn’t drunk a bottle of champagne and got insanely turned on at the sight of you nearly naked then we wouldn’t even be handcuffing you.’

I sighed. Four killer Kostrov brothers and I’d managed to marry the only one with a conscience. But I loved him for it. Nikolai’s determination to keep me safe was as erotic to me as Alexi’s dominance was to Eloise.

I moved my hands behind my back and waited patiently while he fastened the handcuffs around my wrists. This did actually feel a bit daunting. I knew I was safe with Nikolai but not being able to move my arms definitely made me feel vulnerable. I swallowed; I was glad he didn’t want to do more. Eloise liked being tied up while Alexi used his belt on her but that would be far too much for me—I’d be scared if Nikolai wanted anything as extreme as that.

‘For future reference, Isabella,’ Nikolai’s voice was warm in my ear, ‘always check that the person handcuffing you knows where the key is before agreeing to have them used on you.’

I jumped. ‘You haven’t got the key?’

He kissed my neck before replying, ‘As if I’d ever put you in that position. It’s safe in my pocket. The minute you want out, they come off.’

I breathed out shakily. He was right; I got carried away with enthusiasm sometimes. It would be just like me to get excited about handcuffs and then realise I couldn’t get out of them. But I had Nikolai for the sensible things like that. And even if he lost the key, my husband was a genius—he’d be able to get me out of them with a hairpin or a paperclip. I’d seen him pick locks before.

Very carefully, Nikolai helped me back across the room and positioned me on the bench I’d leaned on earlier. Looking down, I realised that the loops at the bottom of the bench legs were for ankle restraints.

‘No,’ Nikolai told me, seeing where I was looking. ‘That would overwhelm you too much. I want you in the moment with me.’

I was in the moment. I was so aroused I could feel the wetness spreading down my thighs as I squeezed them together for friction. Nikolai was taking his sweet time getting down to giving me the good hard seeing-to that he knew I wanted. But as I glanced over my shoulder I could see he’d been taking his clothes off and he was every bit as turned on as I was. He might not want to admit it, but he was enjoying having me tied up at his mercy.

‘Shuffle back,’ he ordered, taking my hips in his hands and pulling me backwards so I was at the best angle for him. My head was pressed down into the soft leather of the bench and my hips were high up in the air.

‘Take me in one go,’ I teased him. ‘Just hold my hips and… slam into me.’

‘I shouldn’t have had that fucking champagne,’ he muttered, but then I felt him step between my thighs and position himself at my entrance.

I braced myself as Nikolai’s fingers dug into my hips, steadying me exactly where he wanted me. I loved how exposed I felt with my panties shoved to the side and my wrists locked behind my back.

Every shift made the metal cuffs bite just enough to remind me I couldn’t reach back or cover myself. I couldn’t do anything but take whatever he gave me. He pressed himself against me—not inside yet, just teasing my entrance with his thickness.

‘You asked for it,’ he murmured, his voice roughened by champagne and lust. Before I could answer, he snapped his hips forward. The breath punched out of me as he buried himself to the hilt in one forceful thrust.

My body tightened around him, trying to adjust, but he didn’t give me time. He pulled back almost all the way and slammed in again, harder, setting a rhythm that was steady and merciless. My breasts bounced inside the lace with each impact, and Nikolai leaned over to cup them gently, cushioning the movement. I couldn’t brace myself at all—my body arched of its own accord, offering him a deeper and deeper angle.

‘You’re gripping me so tight.’ He was almost panting as he drove into me harder. ‘Tell me if it’s too much. I can stop…’

I shook my head frantically. ‘No! Don’t you dare. Please don’t stop.’ His rhythm faltered for half a second—like my desperation had pierced through his control. Then he took me even harder, claiming me with a force I had never known from him, the pressure building in both of us as my need to come urged him on.

‘Nikolai—I’m…’ My words collapsed into a cry as my climax hit, sharp and blinding. My whole body locked around him as I came so hard my knees buckled. If he hadn’t been supporting me, his hands tight on my hips, I would have collapsed.

He swore under his breath as I felt his own climax build.

‘That’s it… fuck, just like that… take it all—’ One more deep grind and I felt him spill inside me, his release triggering another trembling aftershock through my body.

For a long moment we just breathed—him still inside me, my cheek pressed to the bench, wrists still cuffed, my heart hammering against my ribs. He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the back of my neck.

‘You ok?’ His voice was soft now, his usual gentleness returned. ‘I need to hear it. I don’t want to think I hurt you.’

I nodded, dazed and blissed-out. ‘More than ok.’

He eased out slowly, reached into his pocket for the key, and the handcuffs clicked open. He rubbed my wrists gently, checking for marks, before helping me sit up on the bench.

I looked up at him—his eyes still dark with the afterglow of our passion—and grinned. ‘So… can we come back here again sometime?’

Nikolai laughed and pulled me into his chest. ‘Only if you promise not to scare ten years off my life every time you get curious. And no mentioning canes or handcuffs to Alexi. He’ll get too fucking smug.’

I snuggled into him, still feeling the throbbing between my thighs.

‘Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet…’ I murmured invitingly.

He kissed the top of my head. ‘No,’ he agreed softly. ‘It isn’t.’

But before then let’s have some Valentines fun. Here’s the first of three bonus pieces from the Tangled Empires Universe.

……………………………………………………………

Alexi

My brothers stared around the newly renovated basement with dropped jaws.

‘It looks like a dungeon,’ Nikolai said at last. ‘I thought you said you were turning part of the basement into a playroom?’

‘It is a playroom.’ I grinned at them both, ‘A adult playroom.’ But I realised what he meant—maybe I hadn’t been specific enough. With so many kids in the house it was understandable they’d interpreted ‘play’ to involve the youngsters. This room however was 100% adults only.

‘This is your Valentine’s day surprise for Eloise?’ Nikolai continued in shock. ‘Alexi, she’ll have your balls!’

She wouldn’t. Eloise was as up for hard play as I was. It had taken her a long time to build up her pain tolerance and gain enough trust in me to let me do whatever I wanted to her but we’d got there in the end. We’d have got there a lot fucking quicker if our marriage had started normally without her manipulative cousin tricking me into forcing her into sex. But we were over all that. These days Eloise pushed me as much as I pushed her.

I smiled smugly at the red leather S&M dungeon I’d created. We were going to have so much fun in here. I’d kitted it out with canes, crops and paddles, everything we loved. Nothing in the world excited me more than watching my wife’s ass turn bright red while she bit her lip in pain as she waited for me to deliver another blow.

My brothers have never quite come to terms with the fact that I get turned on inflicting pain. They confuse me with the cruel boss of the Bratva. Simon Nemov’s a sadist like me but the difference between us is the fact that I play with consensual partners—these day just my sexy wife— and he forces women to submit to him. Eloise losing interest would kill my hard on immediately. Nemov has always preferred his partners unwilling and screaming.

‘This door had better lock,’ Anton said crossly. ‘I don’t want my kids seeing this.’

‘I don’t want mine seeing it either,’ I retorted. ‘It’s separated from the rest of the basement and there’s a key code needed to get in.’ I didn’t mention that there was also a key code needed to get out that Eloise would not be allowed to have, but it was better not to push my luck. I didn’t need Anton deciding the room would be better redecorated as a kids’ play area after all.

I winked at him, ‘The code’s my birthday if you’re ever tempted.’

Nikolai picked up a metal box curiously. ‘What do you do with this?’

‘Electric play.’

‘What the fuck is that?’

I zapped him and he jumped back in shock. ‘Shit—that hurt!’

‘It’s supposed to,’ I told him impatiently. ‘That’s the whole point of it. But it’s safe, it runs on batteries. It’s not connected to the mains.’

Anton shook his head disapprovingly. ‘You should have checked this with me first. This could bring back a lot of traumatic memories for Serena. I don’t want her feeling uncomfortable in her own home.’

I understood where he was coming from. Serena had once ended up in Nemov’s infamous basement and had gone through a hell of a time before his brother got her out and safely back to Anton. But my dungeon was nothing like his. Mine was luxurious and designed for sensual fun. Nemov’s dungeon was just an empty, sound proofed, windowless basement where he could beat the hell out of his victims without being overheard. He had no interest in the toys and sex gear that Eloise and I loved.

‘It’s nothing like Nemov’s basement,’ I protested. ‘Bring Serena down and show her if you want, she’ll tell you that.’ I motioned toward a padded flying X in the centre of the room. ‘This is all about comfort. Do you think Nemov gives a fuck if his victims are comfortable or not?’

‘It still might bring back bad memories for her…’ But Anton was clearly curious too. ‘Is that a sex swing?’

‘Yeah. The whole room’s basically designed for fucking in different positions. I can tie her to the wall, chain her to the floor and even stick her in a cage and take her through the bars if she’s up for it.’

‘And Eloise actually likes all this?’ Anton demanded.

I chuckled. Eloise more than liked it. She was always surprising me in sexy leather gear and getting me to handcuff her or tie her up. I’d been prepared to forego all my darker kinks when I married her. Partly because of the age gap between us and partly because she’d been so afraid of me at first. But it was Eloise who had got curious about my interests and I knew she was at the stage now where she’d clap her hands with joy when she saw our dungeon.

‘You know yourself how stressful it is having kids,’ I told him diplomatically. ‘This is how Eloise decompresses. She hands control over to me for a while. That, combined with the endorphins released by pain seriously relaxes her. I looked at both my brothers with interest, ‘So neither of you do anything like this?’

‘No,’ Nikolai said, shaking his head, ‘I didn’t really know this was a thing.’

That made me laugh. Nikolai had had more girls than the rest of his brothers put together. He was the one we all went to for sex tips. But Nikolai’s experience was in straight rather than kinky sex. Stick him in a dungeon and he didn’t have a clue. I liked the feeling of being the one in the teaching role for once.

I glanced at my worldlier older brother who was looking a bit shifty. ‘You?

‘I’ve spanked Serena,’ Anton admitted. ‘And yeah, she liked it. But I was gentle with her. I didn’t fucking electrocute her or put her in a cage!’

I couldn’t help a smile both at his indignant response and the thought of Serena with a sore bottom. I doubted any man could be married to the most overbearing woman I’d ever met and not want to put her over his knee occasionally. God if she was my wife I’d fucking never have my hand more than six inches away from her bottom. But Anton was more patient than me. And he was right, his wife had been though some tough times. She needed him to be gentle with her in the bedroom.

‘Borrow it,’ I offered Nikolai, ‘Have a go with Isabella.’

‘Isabella’s expecting red roses, an insanely expensive dinner and something very sparkly in a box. This would so not be her idea of a good Valentine’s day.’

He was probably right, my younger sister in law was definitely keen on the finer things in life. Eloise wasn’t bothered about jewels and flowers but I could imagine Isabella stamping her feet if she felt shortchanged on Valentine’s Day.

‘What are you doing for Valentine’s day?’ I asked Anton.

‘Taking a few days off, we’re flying to Russia,’

‘Russia?’ I echoed, ‘Why?’

‘I want to show her all the things I remember from when I was growing up. The bakery I went to every day as a kid. Maybe the park I used to play in.’

Nikolai and I were too young to remember life in Russia but Anton still had childhood memories there. Taking his wife back to show her… That was fucking romantic. I felt uncomfortable for a moment. I hoped Eloise would be ok with our dungeon and not want any similar soul baring kind of gesture from me.

Fucking Anton and his one upmanship. But my wife knew me well enough to know that I communicated best through sex. I might not be good with words like Anton but I told her with my body often enough how much I loved her. And she didn’t seem to be complaining too much.

Yeah, I was confident this would work for us. Isabella may want a fancy meal and expensive gifts and Serena would adore my brother pouring his heart out to her but I knew my wife would be just as happy, hands behind her back, tits bound, ass in the air and waiting for the next slap of my crop on her reddening cheeks.

I could feel myself hardening just thinking about it.

Happy new Year

Anna Harding

……………………………………….

Aurelio

I glanced up as my underboss entered the room.

‘Well?’

Leandro grinned at me. ‘Like Cartier were going to say no to you. They didn’t even mention insurance — just handed over several million pounds’ worth of diamonds and asked if Mr Dinelli would be kind enough to return the ones he chooses not to purchase at his convenience.’

I shoved my papers to one side. ‘OK. Open them up.’

‘D-colour diamonds, internally flawless, cut to perfection.’

I smiled at him. Leandro knew nothing about diamonds. He was quoting the store’s sales pitch at me. I always envied him at this time of year. No wife to buy for, no family events to attend — Leandro could focus on work throughout the festive season. Not that I ever resented a moment I spent with Rose. She was my life, my heart’s blood. But his Christmas was significantly less complex than mine.

‘Hold them against your skin,’ I directed him, ‘so I can see the effect.’

Leandro sighed but patiently modelled each of the bracelets in turn. ‘You know they all look the same, Aurelio, right?’

‘The subtle differences in clarity and shine may be lost on you, Leandro, but they are not lost on me — and they certainly won’t be lost on my wife.’ I paused. ‘Unless you are suggesting Rose is as much of a philistine as you are?’

‘Nope. I’d only say that if I wanted to be disembowelled with your pen.’ He shrugged. ‘If the pair of you can see something I can’t that makes these sparklers worth the millions you’ll pay for them, then fair play.’

‘Fair play indeed.’ I turned back to the bracelets. ‘This one,’ I said, picking out a platinum piece with delicate diamonds that looked like a single line of light rather than individual stones. I turned it in my fingers. Perfect balance. No claws. Nothing to snag. As elegant and beautiful as the woman who would be wearing it.

The door opened and Alessandro glowered at me before giving Leandro a play punch .

‘Dress shopping?’ he asked me in disbelief. ‘Seriously? I’m your consigliere, not your fucking personal shopper.’

I ignored the tantrum I endured from him every year and motioned for him to show me the gowns in the boxes he was carrying.

‘I modelled the bracelets,’ Leandro told him slyly. ‘Maybe you should model the dresses?’

‘Maybe you should shut the fuck up.’

Their bickering often irritated me, but I had to admit I found Leandro’s suggestion amusing — particularly when I saw the fury flash across my brother’s face.

‘Aurelio, I should be overseeing an arms shipment, not buying your Christmas present for Rose.’

‘You can go back to the arms deal when I’ve chosen a dress.’ I gave him a cold look. ‘Unless you’re suggesting business is more important than making my wife happy on Christmas Day?’

‘No…’ he replied begrudgingly.

‘Show me, then.’

I hadn’t trusted him to actually pick the gowns. I’d discussed what I was looking for with the boutique manager, and she had curated a small collection to be brought to me. I shuddered to imagine what Alessandro would have chosen with free rein. He’d complimented our sister often enough on her pink atrocities. Alessandro had even less idea than Leandro when it came to women.

I swept my eye over the dresses. All gorgeous. It was hard to decide. Then I shrugged. My personal income was almost doubling every year since I had taken over the Mafia. Decisions did not need to be made.

‘All of them,’ I told my brother.

‘Yeah?’ Alessandro snorted. ‘You going to be that generous with my Christmas present?’

‘No. I’m going to buy you a book on economics so you finally understand the finances of the businesses I trust you to run for me.’

Leandro burst out laughing.

‘And you,’ I continued, turning to my grinning underboss, ‘will be receiving an alarm clock, which I gift in the vain hope that you might actually get out of bed on time occasionally.’

I smiled at them both. ‘Of course, both gifts do depend on me approving the presents you choose to offer my wife. If I find them lacking in taste or subtle extravagance, then my gifts to you may look very different. Do you understand me?’

‘But I don’t know what women like!’ Leandro protested.

‘I don’t have a clue what to get Rose,’ Alessandro groaned. ‘Can’t we just get her some flowers?’

‘You may gift her whatever you please,’ I said calmly. ‘Just be aware I will be taking an interest in it.’

They stumbled out of the room muttering to each other in a mix of fear and frustration. It would be amusing to see what the pair of them came up with. Almost as amusing as watching them sweat.

Christmas may be a time for goodwill to all men in the wider world but, in the Mafia, the festive season found me as cruel and condescending as the rest of the year.

I poured myself a glass of wine and laughed quietly to myself as I ate a mince pie.

‘You didn’t have to come,’ I told Nikolai, glaring with disdain at the crowded shopping streets. Only my love for Serena would induce me to enter stores at this time of year. I’d crawl over hot coals for the woman I loved, but Macy’s… that was pushing it even for her.

‘It’s not like you have a wife to buy anything for,’ I continued. ‘You could be at home, safe from all this madness.’

Nikolai shifted a bit suspiciously and I looked at him in surprise. ‘There’s someone special?!’

‘No. Just someone I thought I’d buy something for this year.’

‘If you’re braving this shit for a woman, then trust me, it’s serious.’

‘Why Macy’s?’ Nikolai asked curiously, changing the subject. ‘And don’t you usually get stores closed before going in?’

‘Any idea how much it would cost to close the biggest store in New York on Christmas Eve?’ I glowered at the crowds around the entrance. ‘Though it might almost be worth it.’ I tried to calculate how many millions it would cost me to shut the store for the twenty minutes I needed to buy my bauble, then sighed. It would make the papers if I did. Serena would go ballistic.

‘She wants this bauble for the tree that I can only get here.’ I fumbled in my pocket. ‘She drew me a diagram of the quickest way to get in and out. We enter here,’ I pointed at the paper in my hand. ‘Two escalators up, get the bauble here. Then back down and exit at the back.’

‘You must really love her.’

I stared again at the crowds. ‘I fucking must. OK, so treat this like a military operation. No stopping, no wasting time. We get in, we follow the map, we achieve the objective and we get the fuck out of there. Right?’

‘Sure?’

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

‘What the hell’s that smell?’ I snarled at my brother as a waft of something sickly and artificial hit my nostrils.

‘Pine?’ he offered. ‘Maybe some vanilla?’ Nikolai breathed in deeply. ‘I like it. Doesn’t it make you think of Christmas?’

‘No. It makes me think of the toilet.’

I glanced down at my map. ‘This is supposed to be the toy section. Why the fuck do kids want china plates?’

‘It’s kitchenware,’ Nikolai replied with a laugh. ‘They must have moved things around since Serena was last here.’

I gazed at him in almost blind panic. ‘So the map’s no good?’

‘No, but we can ask someone.’

I fastened onto the suggestion with relief and marched up to a woman holding a china plate. ‘Baubles?’ I barked. ‘Where are they?’

‘I meant ask someone who works here,’ Nikolai hissed, giving the woman a charming smile and pulling me away from her. ‘Someone with a name badge.’

I looked around and saw a young man with a Macy’s badge on his lapel. ‘You,’ I snapped. ‘Where are the baubles kept?’

‘Fifth floor. Go through lingerie, take the escalator at perfume, turn right at shoes, take a second escalator at handbags, go through men’s coats and men’s jackets, but turn left before men’s shoes and take—’

I shoved my paper at him. ‘Draw it.’

‘I don’t need to draw—’ he began.

‘Draw me a map,’ I said in a deadly voice. ‘Or I’ll fucking leave with your baubles as well.’

The boy silently drew some directions on the back of Serena’s map and I stared at it belligerently. ‘What’s this?’ I asked, jabbing a finger in the middle. ‘INT? Intelligence or interrogation?’

‘Women’s intimates,’ the boy stuttered. ‘Lingerie.’

‘Bras,’ Nikolai added helpfully.

‘OK.’ I looked at the map again. ‘I can work with this.’

‘He was scared of me,’ I told Nikolai as we set off again. But I stopped thoughtfully as we walked past a display and picked up a metal torture clamp. ‘Kids could see these,’ I said indignantly. ‘Shouldn’t there be an age limit on this kind of thing?’

‘On nutcrackers?’

‘Oh… right.’ I put them down. ‘The knives though — you’ve got to admit that’s going too far.’

‘We’re in cookery, Anton. Chef’s knives.’

‘Could still use them for violence,’ I retorted, picking one up and brandishing it at my brother. I tested the sharpness on my finger. ‘Shit, this could cut through bone.’

Nikolai took the knife off me gently and put it down. ‘Playing with the knives looks a bit threatening,’ he said mildly. ‘The kind of thing that gets you arrested.’

I shrugged.

‘Gets you arrested and makes you late for picking up Serena.’

I stepped away from the knives quickly. ‘You’re right. OK, back to the baubles.’

Fifteen escalators and six miles later, we finally reached the Christmas section.

‘So what does this bauble look like?’ Nikolai asked me.

I pulled the paper out again and squinted at Serena’s handwriting. ‘Glass. Clear. New York skyline etched on it. Gold date. Says “Herald Square”.’

Nikolai nodded thoughtfully. ‘Not like Serena to be sentimental.’

‘She said it was traditional for our family.’

‘Since when?’

‘Since last year,’ I said darkly. ‘Which apparently makes it sacred.’

We stared at a wall of ornaments. There were thousands of the fucking things. Entire armies of them. Red, gold, hanging balls shaped like pickles. One shaped like what I was fairly sure was a pile of skulls wearing a Santa hat.

‘This is excessive,’ I said flatly. ‘No civilisation needs this many baubles.’

Nikolai picked one up, turning it gently between his fingers and watching the light bounce off it onto the wall. ‘People like Christmas, Anton.’

I scanned the shelves with growing irritation, scowling at a woman as she edged closer to the rack we were looking at. ‘These are wrong. Too colourful. Too… pink.’

I sighed and pulled him down another aisle.

‘Anton,’ Nikolai said quietly, ‘that one looks close.’

I followed his gaze.

There it was. Clear glass. Skyline. Gold lettering. I checked my paper. It ticked all the boxes. I exhaled slowly with utter relief.

‘That’s it.’

I reached out to take it, but another hand grabbed it at the same time.

I looked up and assessed the intruder with a calculated stare. Tourist. Mid-forties. Festive jumper. No spatial awareness.

‘Oh!’ he said brightly. ‘Guess we both want the same one.’

I didn’t release the bauble. ‘Yes,’ I told him. ‘We do. But only one of us is leaving with it.’

He laughed. ‘Fair enough. Shall we flip a coin?’

Nikolai cleared his throat softly.

The man looked at him. Then back at me. Then at the fact that I was still holding the ornament.

‘Actually,’ he said quickly, ‘my wife might like something else.’

He let go and I snatched the bauble away.

‘Wise.’

He held up his hands as he backed off. ‘Merry… err… Christmas.’

‘Yeah. Sure.’

I placed the bauble carefully into a padded box and checked it twice. ‘Objective secured.’

‘What about wrapping?’

I froze.

‘Serena didn’t mention wrapping.’

‘I think she’d like it wrapped,’ Nikolai said gently.

I sighed. The wrapping section was worse than the ornaments.

Glitter. Bells. Bows the size of small animals.

‘This is hostile territory,’ I muttered. ‘And I don’t want anything coloured or glittery.’

Nikolai selected some paper calmly. Deep green with a gold edge. Suitably non-glittery.

‘You’re good at this,’ I said begrudgingly.

He grinned at me. ‘I couldn’t be any worse at it than you.’

As we walked back out into the cold, bauble secured, bag swinging safely at my side, I felt the kind of calm I usually only ever managed after six vodkas.

‘She’s going to love it,’ Nikolai said.

‘I know,’ I replied. ‘That’s the problem. She’ll want me to do this again next year.’

Nikolai smiled. ‘Will you?’

I nodded. ‘But I’ll make her draw a fucking better map,’ I added darkly.

Here’s the first of three bonus festive scenes where the men from Tangled Empires go Christmas shopping. Today’s the turn of Alexi who manages to cause chaos in Santa’s grotto with his daughter…

Alexi

My little daughter bounced at my side in delight as we walked past all the store windows covered in spray snow and tinsel. She was so excited by everything we saw that I was worried about losing her. So I’d put a leather wrist strap on her and tied the other end around my own wrist. I was getting some funny looks, but like fuck would anyone dare challenge me.

‘OK, so a present for your mom. Any ideas?’

Catriona looked up at me blankly. No fucking help there. She probably thought Eloise would want a glitter pony or a princess dress. Though I couldn’t blame a five-year-old for not knowing what my wife would like to open on Christmas Day. My choice of present was irritatingly limited. I liked Eloise in leather and handcuffs, but if I took Catriona to those types of shops I’d not only lose my wife but probably my balls as well.

‘Daddy! Daddy! Santa Claus!’

Fuck. I’d forgotten the grotto. I’d been meaning to avoid it. Yeah, there he was — some fat cunt in a fake beard. But Catriona was looking at him with such excitement I didn’t have the heart to pull her away.

‘You want to sit on his knee, yeah?’

She beamed. ‘Yes! I’ve made a list for him.’

Eloise dealt with presents for the kids, so nothing on her list would be a problem for me. I resented the — I glanced at the sign — fifteen fucking dollars for queuing forty minutes to let my daughter sit on a probable pervert’s knee, but if it mattered to her… I sighed.

‘OK, we’ll get in the line.’

‘Daddy, if you got your gun out we could go to the front of the line?’

Oh, fucking ace. Her loud voice was already drawing attention to us. The last thing I wanted was for security to know I was armed while queuing for Santa’s grotto.

‘We’ll wait our turn,’ I told her. ‘I didn’t bring my gun.’

‘Yes you did, Daddy. It’s in your suit jacket. I saw you put it in there.’ She started to pull at my lapel. ‘It’s in the pocket!’

‘If you’re quiet for the next ten minutes, I’ll give you twenty dollars,’ I blurted out desperately.

That was the kind of parenting that always got me in trouble. I was supposed to explain bad behaviour calmly and reasonably, not bribe her out of it. But my wife wasn’t standing in a queue for Santa’s grotto with three guns and two knives on her while a five-year-old announced the fact loudly to an entire shopping precinct.

My little daughter thought for a moment. ‘Thirty! Then I can buy two sparkle ponies.’

‘Yeah, OK. Thirty,’ I agreed.

She clamped her mouth shut and managed a whole minute before chirping up again.

‘Daddy, Santa is really fat. How does he get down the chimney?’

I sighed. This wasn’t much better. We were standing behind two large women who stopped their conversation at once to hear my reply. Any accidental body shaming from me and I’d need my fucking guns after all.

‘Magic key,’ I muttered.

‘No, he comes down the chimney… Daddy, suppose there’s a FIRE. He’d burn his bum!’ She collapsed into giggles. ‘He’d have to go sit in the snow!’

‘Look,’ I hissed at her, ‘I’ll buy you a whole stable of sparkle ponies if you just shut up until we get to Santa.’

That worked. Catriona just skipped happily on the spot, holding my hand while we waited our turn. Eventually — and after what felt more like three days than forty minutes — some gimp in a green suit beckoned Catriona over and took her into the grotto.

She was in there less than thirty seconds before the same green-clad cunt brought her out again, howling. I glared at him in disbelief. What the fuck? How had Santa managed to get my kid in tears? I stalked over to him.

‘You want to tell me what’s going on?’

‘Santa doesn’t like bad little girls,’ he replied.

What the actual fuck? ‘You’d better fucking explain that,’ I told him, while my little girl clung to my arm and wept.

‘Her list wasn’t appropriate.’

I was getting angry now. ‘I’ll be the judge of what’s appropriate to be on my daughter’s Christmas list. If some jerk in a beard doesn’t like it, he can fuck off.’

‘The elf said I was a bad little girl,’ Catriona sobbed. ‘And I wasn’t allowed a present.’

‘Yeah, I’ll sort you out some presents. Don’t worry.’ I turned back to the elf, grabbed the little shit by his scruff and lifted him up by his neck. ‘You and Santa are going to apologise to my kid. And if you don’t, I’m going to take every bauble off that fucking Christmas tree and shove them up his ass.’

The elf struggled in my grip but managed to pass me a piece of paper, which I read in my free hand while restraining him with the other. After a few seconds, I silently dropped him as I stared in disbelief at the paper.

‘See?’ the elf asked, rubbing his throat where I’d grabbed him.

‘Err… yeah. OK. This isn’t quite what I thought she was giving Santa.’

‘It’s supposed to be a list of presents,’ the elf told me indignantly. ‘Not a list of horrible things she wants to happen to her classmates.’

‘Yeah, I get that…’ I opened my wallet and handed the elf a few bills. ‘Get yourself a new… costume.’

‘She hit Santa.’

She hit Santa? Fuck. My daughter was a monster. I peeled a few more bills off until the elf looked less likely to report the pair of us to the police and pulled Catriona away from the grotto.

‘You hit Santa?’

She nodded, her bottom lip wobbling.

‘Catriona, your mom will go spare when she finds out about this.’ I brandished her Christmas list at her. ‘Trying to turn your classmates green and make them ill.’

‘Mom will be so mad at us both,’ she told me dolefully.

Yeah, she wasn’t wrong. I’d allowed my daughter to hand Santa a customised kids torture list, let her hit him, and then personally assaulted an elf. Eloise would murder me. I’d been hoping to palm the kids off on one of my brothers and spend the night in bed with her. That wasn’t going to happen now. Unless…

‘We could not tell her,’ I suggested cautiously. ‘Maybe just forget the whole Santa thing happened.’

‘Do I still get my ponies?’

‘Yeah. As many as you want.’

‘OK, Daddy.’

She was skipping and happy again as I bought up half the toy store. But as I walked to my car, covered in glitter from twenty sparkle ponies, I decided it was worth every cent — and the shame of my bodged attempt at parenting — if I got to keep the whole elf thing a secret and get my beautiful but oblivious wife naked in my bed.

(This is also very sexually explicit today…)

Leandro

1982

Few people really got Aurelio the way I did. He was considered a ruthless and demanding leader by those who served under him. But to me he would always be the boy I had grown up with. He’d asked me to be his future underboss when we were both in our early teens and I’d never forgotten that he’d chosen to ask me and not one of the sons of the high ranking families.

When I’d asked him why—he told me friendship mattered and there would come a time when he needed men around him he knew he could trust.

I was seventeen when I told my best friend and soon to be boss that I was gay.

‘You’ll need to find someone else to be your underboss,’ I’d said awkwardly.

There had never been an openly gay made man in the mafia and Aurelio was a conservative with strong family values. The mafia were openly homophobic and the penalty for being a gay man had traditionally been death. I trusted my best friend not to go that far but I didn’t expect him to tolerate me playing any role in the organisation he was destined to lead.

‘Why? Aurelio asked, ‘Worried I’ll work you too hard?

‘I’m being serious.’

‘Ok I’m being serious too. Why?’

‘Haven’t you ever wondered why I’ve never had a girlfriend?’ I muttered.

Aurelio shrugged, ‘You struggle to get pussy. I can hook you up with some girls if you want.’

He could indeed. Aurelio was very popular with the girls though I knew they bored him outside the bedroom. Even at seventeen Aurelio had been more interested in his ambition than his sex life.

I didn’t know what the girls saw in him. He was a lifelong friend and I loved the guy but I couldn’t see why anyone would have any romantic interest in him. He was too cold and, if I was honest, too self centred to make anything work with a girl.

Had I not been gay I’d probably have resented all those evenings we spent planning for the future when he was Capo. But it hadn’t bothered me. I didn’t have anywhere else to be.

‘No. Look don’t make this difficult. It’s not about me wanting pussy.’

‘No?’

‘The exact opposite if you must know.’

Aurelio looked at me sharply. A less intelligent man might have needed more of a hint but I saw his quick mind turn it over and reach the right conclusion in seconds.

‘Interesting,’ he mused, ‘I did wonder a few times.’

‘I should have told you sooner,’ I admitted. ‘You’re going to be my boss.’ I caught myself, ‘You were going to be my boss. I get that can’t happen now.’

‘Leandro I fail to see why you preferring cock to pussy means anything has to change. Yes you’ll need to be discreet but most of the old guard will be duped if you date the odd woman in public. Fuck who you like in private.’

I gazed at my best friend in disbelief and he shrugged. ‘It’s not a problem for me. I value your honesty in telling me.’

‘It really isn’t an issue? Your predecessors have killed for less.’

‘Not an issue, no. I don’t get it from an aesthetic point of view though. Presumably because I’m straight. I take it you fucked a few girls to make sure?’

I paused, ‘Actually, no.’

‘You’ve never been with a girl? So how do you know you don’t like it then?’

‘Probably the same way you know you don’t like having your cock sucked by a man. Some things you don’t need to try to know you don’t like them.’

‘I disagree,’ Aurelio replied, ‘How can you decide something like that with no data to back it up?’

‘Well how do you know you don’t like men then?’

Aurelio shrugged, ‘Ok, challenge accepted.’ He sat down and unzipped his pants. ‘Go on then, blow me.’

I was appalled, amused and insanely turned on at the same time. Trust Aurelio to react in a way that no made man could ever be expected to.

‘Seriously?’ I asked him.

‘Get on your knees and blow me,’ he repeated, ‘I want to know what I’m missing.’

I couldn’t believe I was about to suck my best friend off —but I did what he said and knelt in front of him. Aurelio fisted his hand in my hair and dragged my mouth down to his cock. The fact he was already hard gave me confidence that he wasn’t doing this just to humiliate me. I mean he was sitting there in front of me with a hard on for fuck’s sake.

I grasped the base of his shaft and moved my hand up and down while watching his face to see how he reacted. He looked more interested than anything. Spurred on by a desire to turn his scientific interest into something he’d remember for the rest of his life I took his cock in my mouth and started to work it down my throat. I liked it hard and messy with plenty of spit. I may not have his experience with women but this was by no means the first time I’d had a cock in my mouth. I knew what I was doing.

I imagined the girls who usually sucked him off were tentative and gentle. I’d tried it with a girl once. God it had been boring.

I pumped at his cock like my life depended on it. I was rough with my hand and my mouth and I set a fucking hard pace. Breathing faster and harder I took his cock deeper and deeper so it hit the back of my throat. I bet he was used to a gag reflex. But I didn’t have one. He could pound into my throat all day. I fucking loved it.

Even Aurelio couldn’t maintain a neutral expression while I fucked his cock with my mouth. I saw his jaw tense and felt his balls tighten in my hand.

‘Want to come?’ I panted.

He didn’t answer me but put his hand on the back of my neck and forced my mouth back onto his cock. He held my mouth firmly in place with my hair as he shot his release down my throat.

Aurelio sat back with a smile and zipped his pants back up. He grinned at me: ‘I’m probably the first future Capo in history to do that with his underboss.’

I stared at him and then we both burst out laughing.

‘Fuck it,’ said Aurelio, once he got his breath back. ‘I’m not losing my best friend just because you like doing that.’ He offered me his hand, ‘Still happy to work for me?’

I shook his hand. I was more than happy and I’d never admired a man more than I admired my best friend Aurelio Dinelli that day.

Some bonus content this week. Eloise’s feisty daughter, an ornamental dagger, a bowl of ice cream and the Capo dei Capi.

What could possibly go wrong…?

I’m really enjoying writing the main characters as parents. Though so far none of them seem to be doing a great job! When I finish Tangled Empires (which won’t be for ages as it is going to be 15 books) then the next series will be the next generation. So these glimpses of the children in bonus scenes are setting up their personalities for the future.

Spoilers for Books One and Three (kind of. Nothing you wouldn’t already know/guess from the blurb).

Anna

Eloise
May 1994

My husband had never been welcome in my sister’s home. It wasn’t Rose’s decision—she would have welcomed him in a heartbeat. My sister got on very well with Alexi and all of his brothers. She was diplomatic enough to fit in anywhere, even a rival crime family.

But the history between Aurelio and Alexi was some of the bloodiest there had ever been between the Mafia and the Bratva—and socialising with each other’s families was never going to be an option. Aurelio loathed my husband, and Alexi still mumbled in his sleep about how he’d like to gut Aurelio and cut him into small chunks.

I sighed as Rose opened the door. Like me, she had two children, but she never looked dishevelled, stressed, or even mildly untidy. She was always the boss’s perfect Mafia wife in her pastel suits and tasteful jewellery.

I looked down at my own quickly thrown-together outfit with a wry smile. I didn’t have time to groom myself or spend days in the spa. If I left the house for twenty minutes, I was worried Catriona might blow it up. She’d asked one of her uncles only the other day how to make things go bang. Motherhood was definitely more of a trial for me than it was for my sister.

Catriona flung her arms around Rose excitedly. ‘I’m a big girl now, so I can come to dinner.’

‘She’s here because Alexi won’t spank her, but I will,’ I told my sister. ‘And if she goes a whole evening without being spanked, it will be a miracle.’

‘Still being naughty?’ Rose asked, patting her niece on the head.

‘No,’ Catriona replied decisively. But she let Rose cuddle her. ‘Is there dessert?’

‘If you’re good,’ I interrupted before my sister could promise her the world. ‘If not, then no.’

‘We’re in here,’ Rose told me, stifling a grin, and led me into the dining room.

Catriona hugged Alessandro and Isabella. She loved being the centre of attention with all my family. Alessandro in particular adored her—though I hadn’t forgiven him yet for the set of drums he’d gifted her on her last birthday. Every drum-related headache reminded me of how much I’d like to clang my cousin’s face between two cymbals.

‘Eloise, yet again… what a treat.’

I straightened my back as Aurelio walked into the room. His cold greeting and the malice in his eyes matched my intense dislike of him. I hated my eldest cousin. I especially hated the fact he had married my sister. But there was nothing I could do about it. She worshipped the ground Aurelio walked on. Hoping she would ever leave him was pointless.

‘And you’ve brought your daughter. To an adult dinner party. How charming.’

I gritted my teeth, but Catriona beamed up at her uncle. ‘I’m the karate kid.’

‘It’s her favourite film at the moment,’ I explained. ‘We watch it three times a day… every day.’

‘You’re a little girl,’ Aurelio told her coldly. ‘The karate kid is a boy.’

Catriona glared at him with hostility written all over her little face and then, before I had time to either warn Aurelio or stop her, she karate-chopped him forcefully on his thigh.

‘I am too the karate kid.’

She’d clearly managed to hurt him, as Aurelio limped to his place at the head of the table with a grimace on his face. Rose immediately poured him a glass of wine and whispered something soothing in an undertone—probably apologising for my daughter. I grinned at Alessandro, who had found the spectacle as hilarious as I had.

‘The karate kid?’ he mouthed at me.

We both erupted into giggles but subsided after a stern look from Rose. The Dinelli household revolved around absolute respect for Aurelio, and I doubted karate-chopping fit into my sister’s very definite ideas about how her powerful husband should be treated.

‘Discipline,’ Aurelio stated coldly, ‘should start at a young age. Violence has no place in children.’

‘Yeah?’ Alessandro asked. ‘Might want to teach little Angelina not to chase me round with her hairbrush going bang bang, then?’

‘That’s playing,’ Aurelio snapped. ‘My daughter knows how to behave herself.’

The implication being that mine didn’t? But I didn’t care what Aurelio thought. He was as strict with his very young children as he was with his wife. My poor little niece did know how to behave herself. She’d never been given enough freedom to understand misbehaviour.

I privately vowed to let Catriona take her on one side when she was a bit older and teach her a thing or two.

The dinner dragged on—Aurelio giving a dreary speech about the wine while Rose looked on, enrapt. Sometimes I honestly thought she would just burst into applause when he finished speaking.

This household was so different to mine. If my husband banged on about something for too long, then either myself or one of his brothers would hit him round the head to shut him up. Here, everyone was forced to listen to Aurelio talk as long as he pleased.

I yawned. The subtle oak undertones of an aged Barolo were lost on me.

‘I’m a pirate!’ a little voice piped up.

Catriona, bored of listening to her uncle, had sneaked off and picked up one of the ceremonial daggers mounted on display on the wall. She was swinging it excitedly. ‘I’m going to steal the treasure!’

Before I could say a word, Catriona approached her uncle, brandishing the dagger at him. ‘Give me all your treasure, Uncle Aurelio!’

I’d never seen wariness in my ruthless cousin’s eyes before, but, as my daughter advanced on him with her knife, an uneasy flicker crossed his face.

‘Put it down,’ he told her.

Catriona scowled. ‘I’ll make you walk the plank.’

‘Put it down,’ Aurelio ordered her again.

My daughter’s eyes flashed, and she stamped her little foot. I knew from experience how angry she got when people didn’t play along.

‘You give me the treasure!’ She brandished the dagger at him fiercely.

Rose’s hand went white on the stem of her wineglass, but both Isabella and Alessandro descended into helpless tears of laughter.

Aurelio clearly didn’t find the situation amusing.

‘I have told you twice to put that down,’ he said sharply, an edge to her voice beneath the calm. He wasn’t at all sure what my daughter’s next move was going to be.

I knew I should call her off, but seeing the ruthless head of the Mafia unnerved for the first time was too good to miss. And Catriona wouldn’t actually hurt him… even my little monster knew the difference between playing and murdering. At least I hoped she did. With Alexi as her father, I couldn’t be entirely sure of that…

Catriona planted her feet, chin out. ‘No. Pirates don’t put their swords down. Pirates never—’

‘Alessandro,’ Rose said quietly. The single word wasn’t sharp, but it carried the weight of command.

Alessandro rose in a movement that was half grin, half apology, and crossed the carpet in three easy strides. He knelt and, with exaggerated gentleness, plucked the dagger from Catriona’s small hand as if he were relieving her of a toy rather than a weapon.

‘Maybe let your uncle finish his dinner, eh?’

Catriona pouted but let him guide her away, pretending indignation even as she leaned into his shoulder.

‘Hardly appropriate,’ Aurelio told me coldly.

‘I know,’ I said, heat flooding my cheeks at the criticism. ‘But my children are allowed to play.’

Aurelio’s mouth tightened. I saw Rose reach for his hand and squeeze it, silently pleading with him not to retaliate—my sister, the eternal diplomat.

‘There are methods to ensure situations like that don’t get out of control,’ Aurelio replied. Though he did turn his head to give his wife a soft look. I imagined I’d have had a harsher response if she hadn’t been in the room.

‘Like what? Wine for the adults and a timeout for the pirate?’ Alessandro asked with a grin.

‘Enough,’ Rose said—the word soft but final. She pushed her chair back and stood. ‘We will not argue about parenting over dinner. Please, everyone—eat.’

Unfortunately, Catriona liked having the last word as much as she liked to play.

‘Uncle Aurelio is a pirate, too,’ she announced to the table. ‘He just wears a suit instead of an eye patch. My daddy says he doesn’t bury treasure though—he buries people.’

She beamed round to see how her bombshell had landed as the room fell silent.

‘That’s why I need my dagger,’ Catriona continued thoughtfully. ‘In case he wants to bury me.’

She opened her mouth, no doubt to continue with her little speech, but I cut it short by asking Rose very loudly what the dessert was.

My daughter’s little ears pricked up and she turned to her aunt with interest.

‘Tiramisu,’ Rose replied, smiling down at Catriona’s enthusiastic response. ‘Maybe with a scoop of ice cream for anyone who’s been really good.’

‘I’ve been good!’

‘You sit quietly,’ Rose told her, ‘really, really good and quiet, without bothering Uncle Aurelio any more, and there might even be two scoops of ice cream!’

Catriona clamped her mouth shut and took her seat next to me at the table.

Rose winked at me when the table started talking again. ‘Discipline,’ she whispered. ‘Always second to ice cream.’

And we shared a smile—not just as sisters, but as mothers. Mothers with important, dominant husbands who knew all about commanding their men but didn’t understand the first thing about the immense power of ice cream.

Anna

Leandro

September 1977

The new boy looked like he actually wanted to be beaten up. Pressed shirt, blazer that actually fit. Even his satchel gleamed. I’d met boys like him before — arrogant little shits with the confidence you only get when no one’s ever told you to shut up.

Aurelio Dinelli. We’d been told he was joining the school. We all knew who he was, of course — the Capo’s son. The teacher, Mr Peters, was practically falling over himself to get in Aurelio’s good books. Any more special treatment and he’d be offering to polish his shoes. Not that Aurelio’s shoes needed any more polishing.

I couldn’t believe it when Peters sat the new boy down next to me. This had to be a joke. Pretty boy should’ve been at the front with the students who paid attention. I lounged at the back making paper aeroplanes and deciding who I was going to thump at the next break. I wasn’t exactly welcome to the new school material.

Aurelio gave me a nod — more dismissal than greeting — as he sat down next to me. He opened his bag and neatly lined up his books and pencils. I could already tell I’d hate him.

By the time the first lesson ended, I knew I was right. Pretty boy was insufferable. When Peters asked a question, Aurelio’s hand shot up before anyone else’s. He knew everything. He even corrected the teacher a couple of times. I glowered at him. His constant arm-flapping was drawing attention to the desk we shared.

‘Quit it,’ I hissed. ‘Just cool it with the answers.’

‘At least I know the answers,’ he replied smugly.

Then came the project.

‘Pair up,’ the teacher said — the worst thing he could’ve said. I looked round the classroom, trying to catch someone’s eye, but Aurelio turned to me like it was already settled.

‘You’ll write it out,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you what to put.’

‘You think you’re in charge?’ I asked.

‘I know I am,’ he said in a bored tone, not even glancing up.

I laughed — a low, dangerous sound that usually made the other kids back off.

‘Maybe in your posh home. But here it takes more than fucking book smarts to be a leader.’

‘Book smarts built the empires you’ll spend your life working for,’ he said coolly. Then, after a beat, ‘My empire. Do as I tell you.’

That was it. I’d had enough of him. I shoved the smug little fucker, sending his books flying off the desk. I threw a punch too, but he blocked it and gave me a cold smile. His reflexes shocked me. Then, with a deliberate look, he reached over and shoved the contents of my desk to the floor.

Peters came running over, almost wringing his hands.

‘Barone. How many times…’

‘He started it, sir,’ I said sullenly.

‘I doubt that.’

‘He threw my books on the floor.’

The evidence was irrefutable. My books were all over the floor. Peters looked like the last thing in the world he wanted to do was give Aurelio Dinelli a detention. But he’d always been a fair teacher.

‘Detention,’ he announced with a sigh. ‘Both of you.’

I gave him the finger under the desk, but Aurelio just smiled — a calculating smile, the kind my cat might give before pouncing on a mouse. Smug little shit probably planned to run home to his father and get the teacher fired.

And I had to do fucking detention with him.

***

The clock dragged. Time always went slower when the rest of the school had gone home. I got detention a lot, so I knew that better than most.

The radiator wheezed every few minutes, and the rain drummed against the windows. Peters had nodded off behind his newspaper. Typical.

Aurelio hadn’t moved since we sat down. No fidgeting, no sighing. I’d never known anyone so still. I’d shifted in my chair, picked my nose, opened my desk with a clatter — and he just sat there, serenely watching me with interest.

After a while, I couldn’t help myself.

‘What?’ I asked crossly.

‘I’ve been working out why you got so angry when I told you to write up our work.’

‘The sight of your face makes me angry.’

‘Witty,’ he said dryly. ‘You struggle with writing, don’t you?’

I glared at him. ‘I’m not thick.’

‘I didn’t say you were,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I said you struggle with writing. That’s why you got so mad. You didn’t want me to know.’

He was right. I could get my head round figures, but words never made sense to me. It was frustrating because I meant it — I genuinely wasn’t thick. I thought about things. I had ambition. But my writing always let me down.

‘You didn’t want to look stupid in front of me, so you tried to hit me instead,’ he went on. ‘Which was interesting. You obviously care what people think of you, and you’re obviously aware of your own deficiencies, so why sit at the back reading comics when you could be learning?’

My instinct was to bite back, but I shrugged. Nobody was listening. I didn’t have to keep up the tough-guy act. ‘I don’t want people to know I find writing hard.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m ashamed of it, ok? Because even the class idiot can put a sentence together, but whenever I write it all gets jumbled up and messy. I spent too much time fucking around in elementary school and I never caught up.’

‘I could teach you,’ Aurelio offered laconically. ‘It wouldn’t be difficult. You’re clearly not stupid. You just can’t write. That’s very different.’

I stared at him. ‘What’s in it for you?’

He smiled. ‘A friend.’

‘A friend?’ I asked warily. ‘With your money and background, you could buy any number of friends. You don’t need me.’

‘There will come a time,’ he said quietly, ‘when I need genuine friends around me — men I can trust. Accept my offer, and be my friend in return.’

He was talking about the future — when he’d be Capo dei Capi, the most powerful man in the Mafia. Aurelio Dinelli might be a spoiled little upstart, but friendship with him could help me realise all my ambitions.

And if he really could teach me to write… it would change everything. Being illiterate had always held me back. Always made me feel worthless. Aurelio was the first person ever to understand that not being able to write didn’t mean I was stupid.

‘You really could teach me?’ I asked hesitantly. ‘You know how to do that?’

‘I can guarantee you’ll be reading better than the rest of the class by the time we move to the next grade.’

That was too good an offer to pass up. I shook his hand, gave him half the candy bar I’d been saving, and we swore eternal friendship.

And from that day, Aurelio Dinelli was my best friend.

Isabella

May 1987

I handed my report card to my father, who took it from me in silence. I waited while he read it, then bit my lip as he raised his eyes and looked at me with total disappointment. ‘This is appalling,’ he said quietly.

Alessandro grinned at me across the table. His school reports hadn’t been all that hot either, but he’d scraped through to graduate. His problem was laziness. Alessandro was cleverer than he let people think, but he couldn’t be bothered to put the effort in.

My elder brother held out his hand with a frown and took the card from my father. I was as worried about his reaction as my father’s. Aurelio’s academic history was unblemished. At the age of twenty-two he held two Master’s degrees. He’d skipped more school years than he’d worked through.

I just wished I had a quarter of my elder brother’s brains.

‘This shames our family,’ Aurelio told me coldly. ‘This isn’t underperforming, Isabella, it’s ignorance and wilful stupidity.’

I winced at his words. I’d done my best. I just wasn’t good at schoolwork. I was easily distracted. I was more interested in chatting about fashion with my friends than listening in class.

‘You are failing every single subject,’ Aurelio continued. ‘Unbelievably, you are even managing to fail Italian—a language you are supposed to be fluent in.’

‘I didn’t like the teacher,’ I told him, turning red.

‘Looking at your report, none of your teachers liked you either.’

Aurelio turned to our father. ‘I’ll tutor her,’ he said abruptly. ‘In all the subjects. I expect her to give up her summer, but at the end of it she will be ahead of most of the other students in her classes.’

I gasped. My whole summer? Being tutored by my stern older brother? That was the stuff of nightmares. Alessandro shot me a sympathetic look.

‘Father, I’ll work harder,’ I promised. ‘I’ll pay attention in class. I don’t need that much extra help.’

‘You need it and you will have it,’ Aurelio told me coldly. ‘Our father is the Capo dei Capi. He has standards to maintain.’

‘Father…?’

‘Aurelio’s right,’ my father told me decisively. ‘If your brother is willing to put that much time and effort into you, then you’ll be grateful and accept his help. I don’t need you to be an academic genius, Isabella, but a 0.7 grade point average is not acceptable in this household.’

‘She will work with me full-time for the three-month holiday.’ Aurelio turned to me. ‘Your lessons will begin at 7 a.m., and you will work through to 7 p.m. every day, with an hour for lunch.’

‘Except weekends…?’

‘Including weekends. You have spent your school time on leisure, so now you will spend your leisure time making up for it. We will begin tomorrow. Bring me all your school books and I will contact your teachers for a summary of your coursework and areas of study.’

I groaned and pleaded with Father mutely. I got away with a lot, being his youngest and his little girl. But education was important to him, so he just shook his head.

Grim. Lessons with Aurelio. This was going to be the worst summer ever.

***

I walked drearily into Aurelio’s office with my school books and placed them on his desk. He waved his hand to give me permission to sit, then picked one of the books up and studied it for a few seconds.

‘You have literally no concept of even basic Math, have you?’

It wasn’t a question—it was a statement—so I just shook my head bleakly.

‘You’re even failing Art.’ He picked up my portfolio and flicked through some of my drawings. ‘Yes, I can see why.’

‘I’m not doing badly in History,’ I said defensively.

‘Really? What was the date of the French Revolution?’

I looked back at him blankly. ‘Err… 1890?’

‘Over a hundred years out. Who succeeded the English monarch Queen Victoria?’

‘I… I don’t know,’ I admitted miserably.

‘There are children in kindergarten with a better understanding of history, Isabella. The only reason you manage to remember the Fourth of July is because Mother buys you cotton candy. You’re a disgrace to the name Dinelli.’

I hung my head. This was even worse than I’d thought. I knew he’d be his usual cold and cruel self, but I hadn’t thought I’d end up feeling so small.

He made me feel so stupid for not being good at school. But there were things I was good at. I could sew beautifully. But he didn’t care about that. All he cared about was me passing exams to make the family look good.

‘We will begin with literature,’ Aurelio announced. He slid a book over the desk to me.

‘Read it out loud,’ he ordered.

‘But it’s in Italian!’ I said, picking it up in dismay.

‘Dante Alighieri in the original,’ he said calmly. ‘The foundation of Italian literature. Read it.’

I stuttered and stumbled my way through the first couple of pages while he winced at my pronunciation.

‘Enough,’ he said sharply. ‘I will read each sentence, and you will repeat it.’

By the end of the day we had finished Dante’s Inferno and I was almost thinking in Italian. It wasn’t exactly a fascinating read, but I begrudgingly had to admit that I’d understood the whole thing after Aurelio had explained it section by section. He wasn’t just a brilliant academic—he was a natural teacher. A naturally horrible, strict, relentless, ruthless teacher.

I wondered if he enjoyed discussing literature as much as he enjoyed cutting people up.

When Aurelio finally glanced at his watch and told me the day was over, I crept out of my chair, stiff and aching. I’d wanted to go swimming, but I was too exhausted.

‘Same time tomorrow, Isabella,’ Aurelio told me casually, pushing my books to one side and picking up a folder of whatever his own work was. ‘We’ll begin the basics of Calculus.’

I sighed. This was going to be the worst and longest summer of my life.

If you haven’t read book one - here’s the link

SPOILERS……………………………………………

Alexi
September 1994

I swung my Merc through the security gates into the school car park and smiled at my little girl sitting next to me. She was clinging to her Little Mermaid lunchbox and swinging her legs as she grinned up at me.

‘Looking forward to your first day at school, sweetheart?’

Catriona pouted for a second. Then, ‘No.’

Shit. I was supposed to be reassuring her, making her first day go smoothly. Eloise had wanted to take her, but she’d been told to stay in bed for the last couple of weeks until her due date, so I’d been roped in at the last minute.

I swore under my breath. My wife had told me Catriona was keen to start school.

‘Yeah?’ I asked carefully. ‘Why not?’

I hoped she wasn’t scared. I knew a few of our men, with kids who were terrified of being outside their family walls. And I could understand that. We made our homes into fucking fortresses, drilled into our kids that everyone outside the Bratva was an enemy, then chucked them into school playgrounds and expected them to play nice with the other children.

I was paying a fortune for this school and the security was second to none. But if my little girl was too scared to get out of the car, I’d drive her home and think about another way to get her educated — a private tutor or something. I wasn’t going to leave her in this place if she was frightened.

‘Tell me, sweetheart,’ I pressed. ‘Is it the other children you’re afraid of, the teachers, or being without your mom?’

Catriona looked at me wide-eyed, sucking her thumb, and shook her head.

‘Don’t worry — someone can always come in here to get you,’ I said in the most reassuring voice I could manage. ‘The school have a list of who can collect you. Only me, your mom, Uncle Anton or Uncle Nikolai can take you past the gates.’

She shook her head again.

‘Okay — what is it then?’

‘My new shoes are too tight.’

I stifled an exasperated grin. I should have known my fearless little daughter wouldn’t be worrying about the things other kids did on their first day. I ruffled her hair. ‘Come on.’

‘Daddy,’ she asked, taking my hand as I helped her out of the car. ‘What do I do if the other children are mean to me?’

‘Mean how?’

‘Bad mean,’ she said decisively.

I thought for a moment. I usually left questions like this to Eloise. My own life experience was hardly something I could use to advise my daughter. When someone was ‘bad mean’ to me I gutted them. Or shot them if I was pressed for time.

‘Tell the teacher,’ I suggested. Yeah — that was a good answer. ‘Tell the teacher,’ I repeated, ‘and get them to call me.’

She seemed satisfied with that and we finished the walk to her classroom in silence.

The room was already full when we got there, so I checked the door—teacher’s name on the plaque—and spotted a pretty, young kindergarten teacher in the corner, frantically trying to keep a handful of kids from running riot.

I could have told her how to get every one of their little bottoms on a seat, mouths shut for the rest of the day, but I guessed she’d work it out for herself eventually.

‘I’ll see you tonight,’ I told Catriona, bending to give her a kiss. ‘Be good and don’t ask the teacher too many questions about dinosaurs.’

But I was already forgotten. She marched up to a table where three girls were already seated, sank down, opened the lunchbox she was supposed to save until recess, and announced she’d decided to be their friend.

She probably got that level of cockiness from me. I hoped it would do as much for her as it had for me.

***

‘Mr Kostrov…’

I nodded at the pretty young teacher. There was a time I’d have used that wary expression on her face to get her into bed. But there hadn’t been another woman since Eloise, and there never would be.

‘Yeah?’

‘I wonder if I might have a quiet, private word about your daughter?’

‘Sure.’ I followed her to the back of the classroom and gave my daughter a thumbs up as I walked past. She didn’t look distressed or upset, so it was probably just a first-day progress update.

‘Mr Kostrov,’ the teacher said nervously, ‘I’d like to tell you what a delight it is to have Catriona in my class.’

Interesting. In my job, knowing how to read people is paramount. Life and death depends on it. It was obvious to me that— I bent to read the name on her desk— Miss Ellington thought the exact opposite of what she was saying.

‘Has she been good?’ I asked.

Her eyes flickered. Clearly she knew who I was and what I did. Her quick, compassionate glance at Catriona suggested she didn’t want to say anything that might make me angry. Not that I would ever get angry with my kid — I left discipline at home to Eloise.

‘She’s tried her best,’ Miss Ellington told me diplomatically. ‘But it’s been a challenging day for her.’

My eyes narrowed. ‘None of the kids have given her a hard time?’

‘No,’ she replied quickly. ‘More… the opposite, really.’

‘Go on.’

She gave me an apologetic smile while I checked my watch. I’d be here forever before this scared woman told me what was bothering her.

‘We did poster painting today,’ she said, picking some large coloured sheets from her desk. ‘Catriona was very happy about drawing her family.’ She passed me a painting of a stick figure holding what looked like a machete next to a body on the ground.

‘That’s supposed to be you?’ Miss Ellington said quietly.

‘Yeah?’

‘Catriona told the class that…if she has any problems with anyone, she’ll do to them what her daddy does to his enemies. Then she painted that and stuck it on the wall.’

I groaned. Eloise was going to have my balls for this.

‘Catriona has a lively imagination,’ I said lightly, hoping the teacher would drop it, but she just frowned.

‘Mr Kostrov, she then drew this…’ She passed me another picture.

I stared. ‘That’s a pumpkin?’ I asked hopefully.

‘A decapitated head,’ Miss Ellington replied. ‘Catriona told her classmates that if anyone annoys her, she’ll chop their heads off and—’ She flushed and faltered, unsure how to continue. ‘—kick it around like a football. Like…’ She paused.

‘Like her daddy does,’ I finished for her with a sigh.

‘If you could perhaps just have a gentle word…’ she asked timidly. ‘There was a lot of crying this afternoon.’

I’d been a tough kid but I’d have cried too at five years old if one of my classmates had told me they’d cut my head off and kick it around.

‘I’ll talk to her,’ I promised.

‘Perhaps you and Mrs Kostrov would like to discuss it further together?’

‘No,’ I said hurriedly. ‘She’s expecting our third child and I don’t want her stressed. Just leave it to me. I’ll discuss it as much as you want, but let’s keep it between us.’

‘I appreciate you reacting so responsibly. Not all parents do. Thank you.’ She looked so relieved. I grinned to myself. She was probably grateful I wasn’t going to cut her head off and suggest a game of football.

I was just glad she wasn’t going to tell Eloise. Because if my wife ever found out our daughter had been inspired by my behaviour to decapitate her classmates, I’d be drawing my pension before I got her in my bed again.

So for the good of my sex life I vowed to take my forceful little daughter aside and explain that hurting people was never the best resolution to conflict.

I just hoped none of her uncles overheard the conversation — they’d laugh forever if they heard Alexi Kostrov advocating peaceful chitchat as an alternative to violence.

I’m just finishing writing book four and he’s up to his usual tricks (though he’ll have to be on his game to get the better of Serena, she’s one tough cookie).

You won’t get to see Aurelio’s pov until book 3 and I think it might surprise you a bit!

But isn’t that how life works? Who we are and how we are perceived are so often two very different things…

Book One out on Amazon and KU

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FCNKJ9WM

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0FCNKJ9WM