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Oath of Possession: A Dark Mafia Romance (Deviant Doms), page 1
OATH OF POSSESSION
A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE
DEVIANT DOMS
BOOK 6
JANE HENRY
Copyright © 2022 by Jane Henry
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover art by Popkitty Designs
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Preview
Meet Jane
SYNOPSIS
Vivia Montavio is a traitor, and it’s my job to see to her punishment and interrogation.
What a tragedy.
She’s the hottest little number I’ve ever seen with that defiant little chin and eyes that spark with wit and boldness. I love a good challenge.
We’re left with little choice when the truth outs.
So I take her far, far away to La Cabina, a rustic cabin in the middle of nowhere.
To…interrogate her.
Discover the truth.
But when I uncover more than I anticipated, she’s not the only guilty one.
Because now that we’re alone, I’ll take whatever I want.
The truth.
Her innocence.
Everything.
She’s in danger, but there’s only one way to protect her now:
Claim her as mine.
Keep her captive.
Possess her.
And there’s no one left to protect her from me.
CHAPTER ONE
Dario
Of all the jobs I’ve been given as capo in the Rossi family… something tells me, this one’s gonna be my favorite.
I look in the rearview mirror at the furious, stunning redhead who looks as if she could tear me to pieces with her bare teeth, and give her a wink. I don’t give a fuck about the guy sitting next to her, who’s brooding like a pouty toddler, staring out at the hazy sketch of the Boston waterfront as it whizzes by the tinted window.
“Gonna ‘fess up now?” I ask congenially, tossing the offer to either of them that might take the bait. They won’t, though. Half wish I smoked so I could light one up just to add to the whole nonchalant vibe.
I shrug my shoulders. “Might be easier than when I’ve got you two suspended in chains in the family dungeon.”
“Fuck off,” she says in a half-whisper. She tries to hide the way her lips tremble, but I don’t miss it. I wonder what exactly she’s afraid of. She hasn’t seen a fraction of what I’m capable of, so I don’t know if there’s more she fears than me.
But she knows I haven’t made up the dungeon, and likely knows she’s absolutely heading there.
I don’t know much about Vivia Montavio except that she’s a Montavio—which is almost enough to know. Youngest sister of the Montavio brothers, cousin to my fellow mob brothers the Rossis. Sergio Montavio, the eldest surviving Montavio after the death of his brother Nicolo, mentioned he had a younger sister. He even went so far as to casually mention I might like to meet her someday, but that was a few years back. And leave it to the asshole not to tell me she was a fuckin’ knockout. I’ve only caught glimpses of her, but it was enough. I look forward to a more casual perusal, I smirk to myself.
Of course, she’s off-limits now that she’s a prisoner.
Though maybe…
My phone rings just as I pull up the traffic on GPS.
Romeo. My Don, the leader of the Rossi family.
“Yeah, brother?”
“You’re gridlocked from where you are to the tunnel, then it’s a fuckin’ parking lot until you practically get here. You’re looking at three hours minimum to get home.”
I curse under my breath. The typical drive’s only thirty to forty minutes without traffic but leave it to the Boston highway system to complicate shit.
“Got another plan, boss?” He don’t want me sitting in traffic with cuffed captives likely to cause a scene, not to mention we’d be like sitting ducks on the highway if anyone decided to pull something funny on us. I have no idea who these two were involved with.
“Yeah. Take them off the highway, someplace private. Keep them quiet, keep them covered. Let me know if you get even an inkling you’ve got a tail.”
Jesus. A tail?
I glance in my rearview mirrors, but with this traffic, it’s impossible to tell if we’ve been followed.
“Mario and Gloria following?”
Mario, the youngest Rossi brother, and his woman Gloria helped me bag these two, and I expected they’d come as backup. Probably just as well if they didn’t, though. If it comes down to a high-speed chase, having two cars to keep safe is bullshit. This ain’t my first rodeo.
“No, I figured you could handle my spoiled little cousin and her henchman. Gave Mario and Gloria the night off.”
A warning bell dings in the dark recesses of my mind, but I ignore it. I don’t have much of a choice here. Got two prisoners I need to get to safety, a possible tail, and nothing short of a private jet to The Castle’s getting me outta here anytime soon. If I had just the girl, I wouldn’t even question nabbing a motorcycle from somewhere—hell, my brother-in-crime Mario’s got connections on every street corner. But with two of them, I’m shit out of luck.
Romeo’s voice is tight, controlled. He’s concerned, goddammit. “Keep them safe until the traffic clears, see if you can get some answers in the meantime.”
“Will do, brother.”
“Stay in touch, Dario.”
He disconnects the call. I know what that means. He wants a location on my phone and me to answer a call from him on the second ring, no more.
I take a quick left, scan the roads, then pull illegally down a one-way street. Vivia gasps behind me when the horns of oncoming traffic scream at me. I easily take my tires on half the curb, bang a right, knock out a mailbox that splinters like tinder, then hightail it outta there.
“You know that was illegal,” she breathes from the back. Her voice is resigned, with a slight tremor.
I give her a look in the rearview mirror that says no shit, Sherlock.
“As if you should talk about illegal,” I mutter under my breath. “Save the lecture, princess.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Princess is the most pedantic, insulting term of endearment ever.”
“Ah,” I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “You thought that was a term of endearment. Nah, babe, that was condescension. See, I know how to use those pricy words, too.”
Her eyes flash at me before she gives me a bleak, tight-lipped glare and looks out the window. She doesn’t bother to respond. I’m surprised to realize I’m a little disappointed.
I wanted to hear her voice again.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask the asshole she’s with if he’s gonna fill us in on what we can expect with a police raid, but his eyes are cold and merciless, and I already know from experience he won’t say shit without the threat of torture and pain.
If that’s how we have to play it, then okay, though I’d much rather tie up and torture the girl.
“You gonna fill me in about who you are and what your plan was?”
I don’t miss the furtive glance Vivia sends toward him.
“Yeah, why don’t you fill us in,” she mutters.
Interesting. As if she didn’t know what he was up to, or is this part of the game?
I drive down the now-empty road in the opposite direction of where I should be going, and tap my phone on the dash. “Call one.”
I’ve got Orlando saved to speed dial, and never use names in my contacts. He answers on the first ring
“Hey, brother,” he says warmly. I catch Vivia’s eyes light up with recognition before she shutters them again. She has a past with the Rossis I need to dig into, and soon. “Hear you’ve got one of my favorite cousins in your possession.”
Possession. I fucking wish.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice tight. “Got some trouble, though. I’ve got two in my possession, highway’s gridlocked, Romeo wants me to take them someplace off the grid until I can get them back to The Castle.”
“You being followed?” he asks.
I look again out the window. It’s easier to tell now that we’re out of the main line of traffic. “No.”
The guy behind me chuckles, a bone-chilling laugh that makes me want to haul him over the back of this seat and break his neck. When I get him out of this car, he’ll answer for that. I grit my teeth and take another turn. Glance back in the rearview mirrors. Still nothing.
“Take ‘em to Eatalia,” he says. “Closed early, staff’s gone home. I’ll text you the lock code to get in.”
When Orlando and I first met, it was behind bars, serving time. The day he flew the coop thanks to Romeo’s connections, he t old me to call him when I got out, told me he’d get me a better job than grand theft auto. When I got out, he was the first person I called and he took me straight to Eatalia, his restaurant in the North End.
“Aw, gettin’ all nostalgic on me,” I say, grinning despite the fact that I’ve got hostages, we could be followed, and I’ve got a shit ton of interrogation ahead of me. Orlando’s the brother I never had.
He snorts. “Sentimental my ass. We’ve got a meat locker that locks from the outside there, it’s where I keep all the fresh imports and butcher deliveries.”
“Classic. Thanks, bro.”
I hang up the phone and bang a right. We’re only a few blocks away from his restaurant. I look in the mirrors again to see no one’s following us, but the asshole’s staring at me in the rearview mirror. He shakes his head, as if warning me.
“What the fuck are you smiling about?” I ask him. Jesus, I’m gonna sober him the hell up when we park.
He looks out the window and doesn’t respond. I hazard a glance at Vivia, surprised to see there’s alarm written on her face, fear she’s barely containing. He looks over at her and shoots her a twisted smile, but she only shakes her head. What the hell is going on with these two?
I’ll wait to ask them until we’re safely inside.
I blow out a breath as I find the side alley entrance to Orlando’s restaurant. The lot’s empty, which is both good and bad. Bad, because it means our car will stand out like a sore thumb. Good, because it means we won't have an audience. But my sixth sense is triggered, and something tells me shit’s gonna go down soon.
I take him out first, drag him by the arm, and don’t give a shit his head whacks the door on his way out. That’s for being an asshole. He curses but follows. I shove him up against the car and reach for her.
I’m more careful with her. I ease her out of the car and make sure she doesn’t bang her head or knees on the way out. Her douchebag friend notices.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Gonna have a tough time interrogating her if it fucks with your sensibilities to manhandle her.”
I’ve had enough of his bullshit. I turn and deliver a hard, quick blow to his gut, a warning.
“You shut the fuck up and stay out of this.”
He comes up wheezing but still grinning. “She’s a fuckin’ Montavio. I wouldn’t use kid gloves touching her if I were you.”
I deck him again, a swift right hook to the jaw that makes Vivia cry out and recoil, but the motherfucker’s only amused, bloodied lips pulled against white teeth in a sickening smile like a fucking sociopath. Maybe he is one.
When I look back at her, her eyes shine as if filled with unshed tears. Does she feel hopeless? Hate that I hit him? Or did she have something going on with this asshole? I note everything then get my ass to work. I’ve got a job to do.
We enter the back door after I put in the code, and I lead them both to the back of the kitchen near the meat locker. I don’t even wanna know what—or who—Orlando’s put in that damn thing. There’s a reason it was the first place he told me to go.
I think of steaks and sides of bacon and pork tenderloin and try not to let my imagination get the best of me. Hell, if we’re lucky, we’ll end up not even having to use that thing. The douchebag will cry like a baby when he knows what he’s up against, and Vivia will totally cave.
So I tell myself.
I sit them both on stools in front of me and check my phone. Orlando’s got surveillance cameras up on the walls near his office. Parking lot’s still empty. No calls from my brothers.
I pull up a stool across from them, lean forward so my arms are on my knees, and begin. “So,” I say, nodding slowly at one then the other. “Who wants to go first?”
The man snorts. “I had nothing to do with it. Vivia’s the one who set everything up. For Christ’s sake, I’m a dead man walking if you guys thought I had anything to do with it. I never would’ve touched a hair on anyone’s head!” In the bright overhead light, I can see his eyes are bloodshot and his voice ragged. He’s a damn user is what he is, and it ain’t just drugs he’s used. The hurt expression on Vivia’s face says it all.
I shake my head and grab one of Orlando’s butcher knives. Grab a lemon from a bowl on the counter and demonstrate just how sharp this knife is by cutting a slice of lemon so thin you could see right through it.
“It would be really awesome if you two cooperate,” I suggest. “So let’s start from the beginning,” I say, shrugging out of my suit coat and draping it across a chair. I lean over the back of one of the chairs and meet Vivia’s eyes first. “You’re Vivia Montavio. You a natural redhead, lovely?”
She has a shit poker face and looks like she’s gonna wet her pants.
“No,” she whispers.
“Ahh. What’s your natural hair color?”
She swallows and doesn’t answer. She doesn’t trust me. Good, that’s a start.
I push away from the chair and stalk over to her. Here, in the bright light, I can see that her eyes are a light gray, like the morning sky over the water after an early rain. I could float away deep into the recesses of eyes like that and not touch ground.
I drag my eyes to her neck, and note when she swallows, how she’s nearly panting. When I reach her, I put my hand at her hairline, a gentle tracing of my finger to her scalp, and look to her partner. He’s watching us with interest but doesn’t look like he wants to murder me. If that were me in that chair and some asshole mobster touched my woman, I’d burst a motherfuckin’ blood vessel trying to get at him.
“No reaction,” I say out loud, shaking my head at him. “You don’t care if I touch her?” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. I lift my second hand to her hair and gently drag it along the edge of the wig she wears. She sits still, eyeing me but not moving a muscle or blinking. I know shit about wigs, but it’s thankfully easy to take it off. Shoulder-length, honey-colored hair tumbles down.
She looks… younger.
Illegal.
And I fucking want this woman.
I swallow hard and toss the wig to the counter.
“Now that’s better,” I tell her, running my fingers through her tangled mane. “Good job, sweetheart.” Her eyes widen unexpectedly, as if I surprised her. Her pretty, heart-shaped mouth parts, and I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but she leans her head against my hand. I try again. “You did so good, didn’t you?”
She releases a stifled gasp. I’m not sure why.
Interesting.
If I don’t take control right here, right now, I’m gonna strip this woman and fuck her over that marble counter, job and onlooker and status be damned. I’ve hardly touched a woman since I got out of jail and didn’t realize just how hungry I’ve been. And there’s something about a woman like her that ticks every fucking box in my book.
She’s a Montavio.
My captive.
And I have a job to do.
I pull away from her as if burnt and face the man sitting next to her.
“Thought you two were together?”
He snorts. “You thought wrong.”
She flinches as if struck. Guess that was news to her. For some reason, his callous nature and her surprise infuriates me. I grab him by the front of his shirt and lift him, chair and all.
“Does she know that?” I ask in a deadly growl.
“She does now.” I drop him and he flinches. Good.
I want to beat his scrawny ass, but I have to stay focused.
“Which one of you tried to hurt Marialena Rossi? Which one of you was behind that attempted hit?”
Vivia gives a strangled cry. The guy in front of me doesn’t bat an eyelash, and he jerks his head at her. “Who do you think did? I don’t even know who Marialena fucking is.”
“Marialena?” Vivia whispers. “What?”
Looks like I’ve got some filling in to do.
I stand in front of them, cross my arms on my chest, and shake my head. “Let’s start at the beginning.” I want to watch every reaction, see what’s news to them and what isn’t. “My name’s Dario DeRocco. I’m a sworn brother of the Rossi family, which probably comes as no surprise to either of you. Head Capo for Romeo Rossi.”
