Married to the Mob (Bianchi Crime Family Book 1) Read online

  Married to the Mob

  Bianchi Crime Family

  C.M. Steele

  Copyrighted © 2021

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: CoverGirl Designs

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  Prologue

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Married to the Mob

  Fascinated. One look and I'd known at that moment that she'd be my wife. Nothing and no one will keep my queen from me, even if I have to wait years to finally claim her. There are no words to express what I'm willing to do to protect our future together.

  Aria Grasso is mine.

  An arranged marriage. I had no idea that I'd be forced to marry a man I didn't know. I should push him away, but the moment Domani Bianchi and I speak for the first time, I'm confident that it's a lost cause. Domani has decided I'm his, and my body agrees. Not everyone agrees with our upcoming wedding. However, Domani will have his way.

  I will be his.

  Prologue

  Three years earlier

  Aria

  The vehicle pulls off the expressway as we head toward O’Hare International Airport, but I can’t shake the overwhelming, raw emotion that flows through me. I’ve just gotten my first up-close look at Domani Bianchi. Granted, he never saw my face the entire time his father and mine spoke. I stare out the window as if somehow I’ll still be able to see his brooding handsome face again. It was twenty minutes ago, and I can’t stop thinking of him.

  “Aria, are you well?” I dart my eyes to my father, wondering if he knows what’s going through my head right now. I sure as hell hope not, but the man doesn’t give anything away.

  I calmly take a breath and say, “Yes, Papa. I’m fine.”

  “Your face is flush. Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “I am. I’ve never been to Ireland. I think I’m getting anxious, nervous or something.”

  “Couldn’t have anything to do with running into Domani Bianchi? He’s not going to hurt you no matter how dark his reputation is.” That perceptive man.

  Huffing and fixing the hem of my skirt, I blurt out in a rush, “I didn’t actually see him. Anyway. How long until we’re there? I want to take a nap.” My denial is a little too blatantly obvious, but I hope he drops the subject. Talking about boys with my dad isn’t something I care for and I’m sure neither does he, although Domani Bianchi’s anything but a boy.

  “It’s a long flight, so just relax. We’ll be boarding soon.”

  “I can’t believe Gloria’s getting married,” my mother says, tearing up.

  “I told you we shouldn’t have let her go abroad,” my father snarls at my mother, handing her his handkerchief. My sister was supposed to take a semester in England and somehow ended up in Ireland where she met Cormack Delaney.

  They’re getting married in two days because the man is insanely determined and doesn’t care if she ever comes back to Chicago. My father and him had a very long and loud discussion. All things said and done, they’re getting married, and we at least get to see it.

  We board the plane and I take a nice built small bed and go to sleep. All the while dreams of Domani keep me from wanting to wake up.

  ****

  I can’t wait to get out of here. I thought when we flew over the Emerald Isle that I’d found paradise, but then Peter Delaney appeared out of thin air, sending chills up and down my skin. His eyes linger over me when he believes no one is looking, but I can feel them as if I rushed into a spider’s web. The creepy feeling has made my brief stay a nightmare.

  “It’s time to get ready for the wedding,” my mother says, shaking me out of my terrible thoughts. Unfortunately, Peter’s standing up at the wedding and we’re walking together. His wife is here as well, a pretty lady who appears kind but there’s something behind her eyes that is unsettling. Does she fear her husband? Will Cormack be that way with Gloria?

  No. I had my answer the second I met my future brother-in-law. He’s a great guy and wants to worship my sister to the point that I’m a tad bit jealous. I’d hadn’t given marriage that kind of thought until we spotted Domani. Now, it’s all my brain can think of. I blame it on the wedding and all the lovey-dovey emotions flying through the air.

  It’s a little sad because Cormack’s father just died a day before Gloria met her fiancé. Still, the day is perfect for the lovely couple. I’ll bite down on my own bile and celebrate my sister’s happiness and avoid Peter as much as I can.

  “It’s time, lasses,” Peter utters, rapping his knuckles on the door.

  “We’re ready.” I spin around and see my sister in her gorgeous gown, floored by her beauty. My sister is breathtaking and I’m sure Cormack’s going to lose it when he sees her perfection.

  “Excuse me,” I hear my father say behind the door. “I’m coming in.” My dad steps into the room, looking handsome as ever in his tux, and his mouth falls open as he stares at Gloria.

  “Gloria, you look like an angel.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” He hugs her tightly until she lets out a grunt. I snap a picture on my phone of my sister as she smiles at my dad because this is a painting worthy image.

  We leave Gloria’s dressing room inside a large Catholic Church only to see Peter waiting for us.

  “You should be standing by your brother right now,” my father informs Peter.

  With a slight frown, he does just that, allowing me a sigh of relief. I hope after today, it’s the last I see of Peter Delaney.

  A year later…

  Domani

  The meeting’s off to a shitty start. I’m ready to shoot the Denali head for questioning my status at the table, but I will not disrespect our host, Don Anthony Grasso, the head of the Grasso Family. I’m representing the Bianchi family on behalf of my father who is, at present, celebrating his anniversary with my mother. Family always comes first to him and it’s something he’s passed along to his boys.

  “We need to calm down and talk territories,” Don Grasso says. I’m ready to go to war, but that’s not in the best interest of anyone at the moment. Keeping my eyes on Denali, I don’t trust that fucker. If he crosses me, I’ll treat him to a trip to hell after taking his empire.

  “Nothing should fucking change,�
�� Diamanté family head exclaims, pounding his fist. His family is losing more and more business and he doesn’t want to risk losing it all.

  “Listen. We’re trying to keep the fucking peace here, gentlemen. I’m talking about the latest infringement we’ve had in the Grasso and Bianchi areas by both of you.”

  “I told you mine was accidental.” It had been. A stupid dealer looking to make a big score came to our side and started slanging some crack and meth. Both the Grasso and Bianchi families don’t deal in drugs because it makes people less willing to pay us our money on time. We tend to work on the books. You want to gamble or need a loan we operate that way. I’ve only returned from a summer in Italy, learning my roots when my father mentioned retiring. For the past month, I’ve been learning, so today is my first big meeting with these men. I have to remain strong and yet levelheaded and not the young punk they think I am.

  “And ours, the fucking city changed zoning, forcing a block further north.”

  “Again, we just want to come to an agreement. Keep the fucking dope on your side of the street. Taking cuts isn’t something any of us want.”

  A knock at the door sends Don Grasso’s hand up to silence us. “Come in.”

  A waitstaff comes in to serve us some coffee. The door’s ajar as they go around the table, serving us. I don’t trust open doors like that, so I watch for any blitz move. I’ve learned a lot from our homeland counterparts. I’m just about to tell the lady to stop pouring me coffee when something catches my attention out the corner of my eye.

  Not a something, but rather, a someone.

  She freezes as our eyes meet. I wonder if she’s curious or if she is interested. Who the hell is she? Did Don Grasso intentionally sneak in honey traps, or is she a part of the household staff? I look at her clothes and know it’s not the case at all. The raven-haired beauty is in a skin-tight black cocktail dress that reveals a little too much leg for all these men for my liking. Her long black hair lays over her shoulder, adding a level of allure to her already enchanting presence.

  My dick stiffens under the table as she stares directly into my soul, making me question my sanity. No one in their right mind can fall that fast. I pull my attention away from her ruby red lips parted so prettily and send my gaze up and down her form. Fuck, her tits are practically popping out of the dress that fits her too snugly. She presses her palm to her hip, almost posing for me and revealing a little more skin with that subtle move. I bite back a growl, wanting to scold her and wrap her up in my coat, so no one else can see her sexy figure.

  Getting too carried away, I return my attention to her face and her not so subtle makeup. It’s not overdone, just well done and so alluring. I want to bite down on those cherry lips as she whimpers my name. Everything about her calls to me, and I know in that instant that I will make her mine. Never in my life has a beauty like her captivated me enough to forget business. I’d forgotten all the reasons why I’m in the house of one of my rivals, dealing with all my rivals.

  The servers leave, closing the door behind them, stealing my queen from my sight. A low growl exits my chest, hating whoever stole her beauty from my presence. I have to know who she is, and I will find out.

  “Gentlemen, you must forgive me. I must have a word with the young Mr. Bianchi.” I cock my brow up at him and realize that he’d been staring at me the entire time. Shit. Maybe from the look on his face, she’s not a honeytrap. Please don’t tell me she’s his daughter.

  “Let’s do this.” I stand without fear and am grateful that my hard-on is covered by my suit jacket. I’d hate to make a fool of myself in front of these pussies that I could easily take out.

  His guards and mine follow us out of the room and to his study, tensions high.

  As soon as we’re inside, he turns our men and says, “None of you will be needed. This is a private conversation.” He sends his men first, so I nod to mine to follow suit. My cousin, Nero, hesitates and gives me a look to see if I’m sure, and I am, so I nod again. He takes his leave, closing the wooden door behind him.

  He runs his fingers through his salt and pepper hair before he presses his finger into my chest. “I’m gonna be frank about this. She’s too fucking young for you.”

  “What? Who?” I question, knowing he has to be talking about my future wife.

  He tilts his head down, trying to keep his temper even, but when his eyes meet mine, there’s a look of understanding and concern. “Don’t play games with me. You were staring at my daughter like you’d found your soulmate or something.”

  My mouth drops open. It’s not what I could have hoped for. She’s already taken. “Daughter? I thought your daughter was married.” I remember he and his wife were headed to the airport a few years ago.

  “Yes, my eldest Gloria is married. Aria is the younger of the two.” Aria? What a beautiful name.

  “When you say young…how young?” I need to know how fucking sick I am.

  “Sixteen.”

  “Son of a bitch. Sixteen.” Damn it. She’s not even legal.

  “Yes. She’s a decade younger than you. I don’t know what your intentions are or anything, but she’s my little princess. So, even though we break laws for a living, it’s not one I’m willing to let anyone cross.” He’s right about her being too young for me; that’s for sure.

  Can I wait for her to grow up? I know the answer before I finish the thought.

  “I’ll wait for her,” I insist. There’s no doubt in my mind about it.

  “Wait for her?” He sits on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms. I don’t know if he’s trying to create an imposing presence or just taking in what I’m saying, but the man isn’t gonna scare me away.

  “Yes. You didn’t say she couldn’t marry me.” It’s a huge difference that I was quick to pick up on and will use to my advantage.

  “You’re saying you want to marry my daughter?” he reiterates as if I can be any clearer on the matter.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You didn’t say I didn’t deserve her; you said she was too young. In two years’ time, she’ll be legal in every fucking state in this country, and then she’ll be my wife,” I inform him because I’m not the kind to back off my word.

  It takes him maybe thirty seconds before he sighs and stands. “Here are the rules, and I want you to understand that under no uncertain terms are they to be broken.” He tips his head and stares at me with his brows scrunched waiting for me to agree to hear them out.

  I nod and cross my arms. “Okay. Let’s hear them.”

  Clearing his throat he says, “One, you don’t speak to her at all. I want her to grow up without the pressure of a pending marriage. Two, you don’t fuck around on my little girl. If you can’t keep it in your pants for the next two years, then the deal’s off. I’m not giving my blessing to a piece of shit looking for a piece of property.” I nod as he speaks because the first one is for the best, even I can see that, and the second wasn’t even a thought in my head.

  “Is that it?” I ask.

  “You act like that’s not enough.”

  “I have conditions as well. The first one you tossed out is difficult. Still, the temptation will be too great to ignore, so I will easily adhere to it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see her from a distance. I’ll keep an eye on her always. That’s my condition to the first one.”

  “And the second one?” His brow lifts on that one like he believes that’s a deal breaker. Not in my case, so if that’s what he had in mind, he picked the wrong guy to try that request on.

  “The second’s easy. I’m still a virgin. It’s not something I’d like everyone to know, but we have standards in my family, and dicking hoes is against the rules. And my father believes any woman that’s not my wife doesn’t belong in my bed.”

  “Those are good rules to live by. Still, you do realize that we don’t need to speak on this until she’s older. Maybe in a couple of years when you’ve had time to decide if she’s the woman for you.”

&
nbsp; My fists clench at my side at the insult to both me and his daughter. I felt the connection with just a look. “No. I’m set on it. There is no way around it. Aria will be my wife one day. I knew the second she looked at me that she’d be the one.”

  “Wow, you Bianchi men don’t play games. Your father is missing this important meeting for his anniversary, and now you’re swearing to wait to marry my daughter.”

  “Women make the world go round.” I’m thinking about the day I can make his daughter round in the belly. Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about her that way, knowing she’s technically a minor and he’s standing right in front of me. Besides, I’m a fucking criminal, and she doesn’t look like a damn teenager so it shouldn’t matter, but I’ll wait for my queen to finish growing up.

  “Smart man.”

  “Just so we’re clear—I have your blessing?” I’m not leaving here without that reassurance. I don’t hedge bets. I follow through with everything, making sure there’s no fucking hiccups.

  “You do, and will, if you hold up your end.”

  “Good, then. I will make it clear to all of the families that Aria Grasso is my wife, and no deal or arrangement will be made to stop it or we’ll go to war.”

  “You are one determined man,” he chuckles. We shake hands, sealing our verbal contract.

  “I know what I want, and I seize it.”

  “Very well. Let us join the rest of the men.”

  We exit his study and walk back to the meeting room with our men following behind us. I refuse to look for my bride, making sure to hold up my end of the bargain. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure eyes are on her at all times, reporting back to me when I can’t observe her myself.

  As we enter the room, Don Grasso takes his seat at the head of the table and says, “Mr. Bianchi would like to make a statement.”

  I nod and clear my throat. “I’m going to be very clear, so there’s no mistaking me or the words coming out of my mouth. Aria Grasso will be my wife in two years’ time. There will be no offers for her hand by anyone in any family. No deals, no sneaking in to try to take my queen. I am clear?”