Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2023 Winter Sloane

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0797-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Lisa Petrocelli

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  VENGEFUL PROMISE

  Mafia Lords, 2

  Winter Sloane

  Copyright © 2023

  Chapter One

  Veronica Romano’s battered white Toyota let out a sputtering noise. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles turned white. Please break down, Veronica thought. That would give her a reason to delay going home. Veronica could text her father, tell him she would be arriving a day or two late.

  Then again, Arturo Romano would probably just send out a car with a driver for her. Her old man was used to getting what he wanted. She sighed. Engine trouble was the least of her worries.

  When Veronica chose a university two states away from Ringsor City, where she was born and raised, she thought she finally had freedom in her grasp. Freedom from her complicated family, from her so-called duties. In the end, Veronica should have known better. She couldn’t escape her fate or her obligations. No matter how far she ran, she would always come crawling back to Ringsor City one way or another.

  Veronica just graduated with a degree in accounting a month ago. Her father couldn’t attend her graduation because he had some important business meeting to attend. Veronica was just the tiniest bit disappointed, but in the end she was glad he couldn’t make it. After her high school graduation, her father wanted her close by. Arturo expected her to join the family business but she fought him until he caved.

  She really thought she could be free of him, but then her father called her a few days ago, just as Veronica was about to go on her first job interview.

  Arturo said he had lung cancer, that he didn’t have long to live, so he wanted to spend more time with her. It wasn’t a lie. He sent her his doctor’s note and his tests. Guilt made her return but Veronica knew coming back here came with a price.

  The women born into the Romano Familia were bargaining chips to be traded away for a beneficial alliance, and she had a good feeling her father called her home for that sole reason. He had a marriage prospect in mind for her.

  Veronica kept telling herself during this long drive home that she had to be strong. She had always been weak when facing her father. His enemies and allies called Arturo a formidable man. To them, he was both a shrewd businessman and a butcher who eliminated those foolish enough to get in his way.

  Veronica had always known what her father truly was—a despicable and manipulative bastard who used and moved people like pieces on his personal chessboard. Still, she loved him despite his numerous flaws. It had always been just the two of them, especially after her mother and brothers died. They were killed in a “tragic car accident,” the papers called it, but Veronica found out later that a rival crime family had hired the truck driver who rammed into the black Subaru her mother was driving.

  “It’s just the two of us against the world,” her father used to joke. Arturo had a good side, a soft spot for Veronica while she was growing up. Over time, her father had gotten worse—harder and meaner. Veronica barely recognized him the day she left Ringsor City to start college.

  That had been four years ago. Veronica had been eighteen then. She was twenty-two now, and apparently still unable to make her own decisions. That had to change. Veronica would firmly tell her father she was here to spend time with him, but she still had no plans to be involved in the family business.

  An hour later, Veronica arrived at her family estate, exhausted from driving all day. She got out of her car, not surprised to find Gibson, her father’s head butler, waiting for her. Before Veronica could get her own bags, two men in suits took them out of the trunk.

  “Good evening, young miss. We have prepared your old room for you. Shall we?” Gibson asked.

  “I won’t be staying long,” Veronica said. Gibson was a professional who normally didn’t give his emotions away, but judging by the raise of his eyebrow, even the old butler knew Veronica would be here for a while.

  “Is my father home?” she asked, following Gibson inside the enormous mansion.

  “He will be home late tonight,” Gibson said. “But hopes you can spare some time for him in his study later.”

  “Fine,” she answered drily.

  Usually, the old family house was a beehive of activity. Her father used their home as headquarters for the Familia. Veronica expected to see an uncle or one of her father’s lieutenants. Instead, Veronica found herself walking into an empty home filled with ghosts.

  “Why is it so dark in here?” Veronica asked.

  She had no fond memories of this large house. It never felt like home to her. Veronica knew all the secret spots to hide in this vast monstrous space. She spent most of her childhood hiding in her room or one of the hidden nooks and crannies in the house, her nose in a book. The daughter of a mob boss didn’t make friends or boyfriends easily at school. Those who approached her were opportunists who wanted to form a connection with her family. She learned that lesson the hard way after her first boyfriend admitted he only dated her because of her family name.

  “The lights in the living room went out two hours ago. The electrician would only be able to come tomorrow morning,” Gibson said.

  They walked up the grand staircase. Her old room was the furthest door on the second floor. Veronica wasn’t surprised to find her bags already there.

  “If you’ll excuse me, young miss, I have other errands to run. Just call for one of the maids if you need anything.” Gibson hovered by the door. Then he added, “Your father is looking forward to seeing you.”

  “I doubt it,” Veronica mumbled after Gibson shut the door behind him.

  She took a shower, then collapsed on her old princess bed and fell into a deep sleep.

  ****

  Veronica woke to the sound of someone knocking on her door. She thought it was her roommate Cassie, asking her what she wanted for dinner. When Veronica opened her eyes, she was looking at the frosted chandelier in her old room. The pop bands she used to love in high school still decorated the walls. If she opened her closet door, Veronica bet her old clothes would still be there.

  “Who is it?” she asked when the knocking didn’t stop.

  “It’s Gibson. Your father has returned. He’s decided dinner would be served in his study instead. Would that be fine with you?” Gibson asked.

  “Do I have any other choice?” Veronica asked. Gibson didn’t answer her. She heard his retreating footsteps. Veronica hauled herself up. She took a quick shower. She didn’t want to face her father in her dusty traveling clothes. Veronica put on a comfortable white sweater, an old pair of jeans, and some thick socks.

  After combining her hair, she headed to her father’s study. The door remained partially open, an invitation for her to enter. She knocked first, before joining her father in his office. Arturo sat in the chair behind his desk.

  She was surprised to find him out of his suit. Her old man looked terribly small, dwarfed by the leather chair and the robe he wore. Cancer had left its mark on him, Veronica thought. She glanced at the salad and soup on his desk.

  Noticing her stare, he finally spoke. “These days, soup and salad are all I can handle. I can ask the chef to prepare something else for you if you’d like.”

  “This is fine. I’m not particularly hungry tonight.” They ate in silence for a few minutes. A normal father would ask his daughter about aspects of her life. Of course, he probably wasn’t interested in the life she led outside of the Familia.

  “Time is no longer my ally, Veronica,” Arturo finally said. He pushed his half-finished soup aside and studied her.

  “Father, why did you really call me back home?” she asked.

  “Can’t an old man wish to spend his last few remaining months with his only daughter?” Arturo asked. When Veronica said nothing, he continued, “After the car accident, you locked yourself in your room and refused to speak to anyone for days. Do you remember?”

  “Accident? You mean after Mom and the twins were murdered? Father, you don’t have to choose your words with care anymore. I’m no longer a child,” Veronica couldn’t help but say.

  “Yes,” Arturo said tiredly. Veronica noticed the dark shadows under his puffy eyes and wondered if he had trouble sleeping lately. Arturo continued, “Once you found your voice again, you liked reminding me how I failed to protect our family.”

  “I just lost my mother and brothers. It was only natural I acted out,” Veronica conceded.

  She wondered where this conversation was going. Arguing with her father every single time he brought up a point wouldn’t lead her anywhere. Veronica decided to listen to what he wanted to say.

  “I failed your mother and brothers and I might be dying, but at the very least I will ensure your survival. Someone must carry the Romano family name,” Arturo said briskly.

  Color seemed to return to his drawn and haggard face . A trick of the light, Veronica thought.

  She pondered his words carefully, then asked, “What do you mean by that?”

  Here it comes, she thought. He was going to bring up marriage. Veronica’s parents’ nuptials had been arranged by their families. Her mother was the daughter of a prominent Greek mafia boss. Their union was meant to strengthen ties between their two families. After her mother was killed, her grandfather cut all ties to her father.

  “Do you remember my good friend Nikolai?” her father asked.

  Arturo was referring to Nikolai Baranov. Veronica conjured the image of the pale-haired, hard-eyed six-foot-seven Nikolai. Some Bratva men looked like thugs wearing monkey suits but despite his numerous tattoos, Veronica always thought Nikolai looked like a beautiful killer in a suit.

  The Baranov Bratva were one of the Romano Familia’s oldest allies. Nikolai had taken over the leadership of his family after the old Pakhan had died. She knew that much.

  Veronica had a massive crush on Nikolai in her teens. Many of her father’s visitors hardly paid any attention to her. Veronica felt like a ghost most of the time. Nikolai was the only one who had really seen her.

  She shivered, not from the cold in the room but from an old memory. She always played hide-and-seek with her imaginary friend Silvia in her father’s office. Needing to pee, Veronica remembered slipping into her father’s private bathroom. After she was done with her business, her father and Nikolai entered the office. Her father hadn’t noticed she was there, but Nikolai had given her a knowing wink. Veronica remembered her entire body feeling hot that time. Back then, she didn’t understand what her body was telling her.

  “What about him?” Veronica finally asked after realizing her father hadn’t said anything more.

  Her heart began racing dangerously fast. Why did her father bring up Nikolai? For some reason, she imagined herself walking down the aisle in her wedding dress, to Nikolai. Wait. What was she thinking? Nikolai was twice her age. She bet he still looked gorgeous, but Veronica doubted someone like Nikolai would want an inexperienced bride like her. Veronica needed to focus, to hear what her father was telling her.

  “This is a delicate topic,” her father finally said. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation tomorrow morning. I had a long day at work and you must be exhausted after being on the road so long.”

  Veronica frowned when a red dot appeared in the middle of her father’s forehead. It took her a second to realize what it was.

  “Father, get down!” Veronica yelled but it was too late.

  Arturo Romano’s face had turned into a pulverized red mess. A ragged groan of protest tore out of her throat, then a scream.

  Chapter Two

  Nikolai Baranov tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk and stared at his black computer screen. He wondered how Arturo’s dinner was going.

  His old friend told him Veronica was coming home today. Arturo promised he would tell his daughter the arrangements he had made with Nikolai. How that conversation would turn out, Nikolai didn’t know. He could leave his office. His associates often remarked that Nikolai worked too much. Maybe they were right. Nikolai could leave the office and head back to his million-dollar penthouse suite, to his quiet and empty home.

  Nikolai would turn forty this year. He was sick of returning to an empty house. He could imagine a beautiful woman waiting for him after a long day at work, a warm dinner, a flirty smile, and soft curves to welcome him to bed.

  Oh, Nikolai never had trouble with women. They usually flocked to him like moths drawn to the fire. Whores didn’t interest Nikolai any longer. He wanted something more permanent, an obedient wife, children to pass on his legacy. Nikolai could have all of that with Veronica. Nikolai remembered the bold girl who slipped him curious glances every time he came over to Arturo’s home to discuss business. Veronica was a grown woman now, an adult capable of making her own decisions, and yet Arturo would offer her no choice in the matter.

  Arturo knew he didn’t have long to live. The moment he passed away, the Romano Familia would crumble. There was no one to take over. Arturo didn’t believe any of his lieutenants had what it took to be the Don. Veronica certainly didn’t want to be involved with the family business.

  “Too late for that now,” Nikolai mused.

  Once he took Veronica as his wife, the Baranov Bratva would assimilate the Romano Familia. He would take the empire his old friend had painstakingly built and with Veronica’s help, ensure it would never die.

  There was a knock on his door. Nikolai sighed. His assistant knew he didn’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the evening. Then Nikolai remembered his secretary, Estelle, had already gone home for the night.

  “Come in,” Nikolai said.

  His second, Ivan, hurried into his office. Ivan looked haggard, Nikolai observed. Maybe he should suggest Ivan take a vacation. Ivan could take his wife and children to someplace warm. Forget about the troubles in the city and the organization for two weeks. The prospect sounded tempting. Nikolai couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a break himself.

  “Problem?” Nikolai asked. When it came to business matters, Nikolai had always been sensible.

  “Yes, you ordered Yuri to keep a close eye on Arturo Romano’s residence,” Ivan began.

  Nikolai already didn’t like where this was going. His old friend did his best to hide his sickness from the public for as long as he could but a member of the press had gotten wind of Arturo’s hospital visits.

  To survive in the line of work they dealt in, one must always have countermeasures. Arturo didn’t have one, so he turned to Nikolai for help. The moment Arturo’s enemies scented blood in the water, it was only a matter of time before they closed in.

  “Yuri spotted a suspicious white van entering the neighborhood, probably a rental. He saw the driver emerging from the van, carrying a large black case. Yuri managed to take a picture of the man. We sent the photo to our experts,” Ivan said.

  “Did they identify the man?” Nikolai asked.

  “Yes, they confirmed it was Reid Hyde,” Ivan said grimly.

  Nikolai got on his feet. Hyde was a well-known name in the underworld, a hitman used by mafia families to take out their competitors. Money motivated men like Hyde.

  If Nikolai knew the hitman had accepted a contract to take out Arturo beforehand, Nikolai would have found a way to contact the killer and offer Hyde double the amount of money to take out his employers instead. Now, however, it was too late to do anything. Arturo might be the main target but Nikolai wouldn’t be surprised if whoever hired Hyde was ordered to take out Veronica as well.

  Veronica might not be a real threat to anyone but eliminating every single member of the Romano family might be icing on the cake for some, and Arturo had pissed plenty of people off during his lifetime.

  “Boss, where are you going?” Ivan asked warily.

  Nikolai put on his coat, then took out one of the guns he kept in the drawer of his desk. “Where else? My old friend might be marked for death no matter what, but I have every intention of saving my future bride.”

  “You can’t be serious, Nikolai.”

  Ivan struggled to catch up with Nikolai as Nikolai left his office and took the elevator back to the first floor. Ivan outlined the pros and cons of his crazy decision. More cons than pros, Nikolai noted. His associates always saw him as pragmatic. Nikolai’s actions might be seen as reckless to Ivan but he didn’t need to justify his intentions to anyone else. He was the Pakhan of the Baranov Bratva after all.

  “Is it truly worth risking your life to save a woman you hardly know?” Ivan asked, panting as they stood on the sidewalk. Nikolai had texted his driver on the way down. Gilbert would arrive in a few minutes.

  “The woman,” Nikolai explained, “is merely a bonus. What I am after is Arturo’s legacy and his assets.”

  “I see.” Ivan visibly calmed down.

 

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