Taken by the Mob Boss: An Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romance Read online

  Taken by the Mob Boss

  Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romance

  Fiona Stone

  Copyright 2023 by Fiona Stone - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.

  All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Contents

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  18. Chapter 18

  19. Chapter 19

  20. Chapter 20

  21. Chapter 21

  22. Chapter 22

  23. Chapter 23

  24. Chapter 24

  25. Chapter 25

  26. Chapter 26

  27. Chapter 27

  28. Chapter 28

  29. Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Sophie

  “Damn, Sophie, you’re looking hot!” Mimi says, sitting on the lounger couch in our semi-private changing room. She snaps a picture with her phone and a deep smile lines her face. “Taken for later,” she winks.

  “Mimi—” I utter, but stop mid sentence. I run my hands over my hips, feeling a little vulnerable in such a dress. But the fabric of the Piovere dress is to die for. I’m trying it on for the millionth time in the last hour … But whether it’s me looking this hot or the dress, I don’t know, but I feel good in it.

  “Just buy it already, you have the money,” Mimi says.

  I roll my eyes at her in the mirror, but continue looking over myself in the mirror and seriously considering it. I saw it on the Piovere feed today and just had to try it on. I knew that Nathan would already have it in stock, he always has everything in stock before it’s released. His shop is literally the space where designers birthed their greatness into the world. I hadn’t expected it to look this good in real life, or feel so great. I sighed.

  “C’mon,” Mimi groans, “For the sake of everyone else's sanity. Look, even your guards are checking you out,” she nods with her head towards the entrance of the changing rooms.

  I catch Sebastian turning away quickly. And Rocko. Both men are the size of small mountains. I’ve known them since I was twelve, and Seb has had a crush on me for as long as I can remember. He’s a year younger than me but you’d never know it with the beard he has.

  “Just buy it and stop taunting everyone,” Mimi says, standing up from the couch. “We get it, you’re a goddess.”

  “Don’t be like that,” I sass Mimi. “If you had this on you’d be turning heads.”

  “Honey,” she says, staring at me in the mirror with her long brown curls framing her slim face. “I don’t need to turn heads, I only need to give head.” She bursts out laughing.

  I suppress a snort, but don’t laugh. Or try to. But then I see Mimi doubling over at her own joke. “Really?” I say, and then start giggling too.

  “Well one of us has to exude sexual energy. You’re about as frigid as a—”

  “Okay, okay,” I flap my hands at her to be quiet. “I’m not getting it though. I’m—”

  “Not worthy of a Piovere, yet.” Mimi finishes. “I’ve heard it before.” She turns and wanders to the entrance of the changing corner and closes the main curtain, which seals us off from the rest of the store. “C’mon out of the dress then.” She jacks a thumb for me to drop the clothing.

  I hug it to my body. “But it’s a Piovere …”

  “We do this every time,” she hisses. “Out!”

  I catch the zip in between my thumb and forefinger and pull it down slightly, then sliding my thumb under the shoulder strap I wiggle out and let the masterpiece of a sun dress glide down. I put it back on the hanger with care and lay it on the changing table that Nathan has there for purchases that won’t be made.

  “This is how we’re spending our Friday night, may I remind you,” she says. “We could be out. We could be anywhere else. We could be getting your v-card punched”

  I cough to interrupt Mimi.

  “Which is long overdue,” she barrels on. She throws an arm around me. “C’mon Soph, it’s about time.” She looks at me in the mirror, tracing her eyes up and down my body. “You got curves mamacita. And hips like that make men really happy. I know.”

  For years I’ve struggled with how I view myself. I’ve always thought I was too round, then too tall, too short, not round enough! Always something to label myself …

  “And stop overthinking,” Mimi says, catching my wandering eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman. Believe it. Plus, all that worry will give you crows feet.”

  “What are you, my fairy godmother?” I say, a smile teased on my lips.

  Mimi cocks her hip and pretends to walk with a cane. “If I’m your fairy godmother, one that grants wishes, I would’ve got that dusty old cooch—”

  “Shhhh,” I jump to her and cover her mouth. Both of us giggling like idiots. “C’mon now,” I say. “They might hear you.”

  “They?” Mimi says, with wide eyes. “As in the bodyguards that follow you day and night? Who most likely know the truth? Of which, Seb has had a crush—”

  “Shhh,” I say again. “I don't exactly want my history broadcast for the world.”

  Mimi snorts and then heads back to the couch, she bends and picks up her phone and handbag. I wish I was as effortlessly confident as Mimi. She’s always been so self-assured, and has the ability to help me see a small fragment of the woman she thinks I am. But she is beautiful. She has hips that I’d kill for, and a way to talk to men that makes me look like a mannequin.

  “Now, what are we doing then?” she asks. “I’ve been leading this guy along on Matcher for weeks now. He wants into these panties, and quite frankly, I want into his too. Are we heading out finally?”

  I bite my lip. I know I’d promised Mimi that we’d sneak away one of these nights out, but the risk gets my heart racing. I feel a sweat in my armpits immediately. What would my father think? “Well I don’t know—” I begin.

  “Nope!” Mimi snaps, closing her handbag. “We’re heading out. You promised.”

  “I know, I know,” I say, picking up my original sundress from home and sliding it on. It was a choice made by Mimi, it’s a little too slim for my taste. A little too revealing.

  We’d left my father’s gated home hours ago, under the pretense of a shopping evening in Miami Beach. Which obviously, even father knows, that most shops aren’t in Miami Beach. And at some point, she’d practically forced me to promise her to let us go out. Except that I’ve never been out. I’ve never really been on a date. I’ve lived in the world of one of the most powerful mob families of Florida since I was born. My father is afterall the Don of the Russo family.

  “Look, surely there’s something that will convince you to come out with me? You’re such a poor sheltered, helpless, daughter of a Don,” she cries, a hand to her forehead.

  “Mimi!” I hiss.

  “Oh everyone here knows Prude-zilla,” she says. “Let’s get gone.”

  I pull her back from the curtain as she goes to yank it aside. “Look, I know my father would probably let me go out if we really wanted to, but—”

  “But nothing!” Mimi sighs, then grins at me. “I didn’t want to play it. I didn't want to spoil the surprise,” she says, raising her hands and stepping back from me.

  I grab my handbag reflexively, “Ruin what?” I ask, looking around as if we’re about to be set on.

  Mimi’s face lights up, then her eyes sharpen and she grins like a cat. “I spotted this earlier while you were obsessing over yourself.” She takes her phone out and opens an app. It loads and a picture of the dress I was just wearing comes up. Then a different one. And another different one. They’re all Piovere’s …

  “Piovere is having a secret show this evening. Here, in Miami Beach. At Hush,” she says. “Your favorite company in the whole world. Right here. In Miami Beach. And we’re going!”

  “At Hush?” I whisper excitedly, my voice jumping up an octave. “Hush, as in—”

  “Right around the fucking corner!” Mimi says. Her face is luminescent, she can taste the victory of having finally got me out.

  All my life I’ve wanted something outside of the mob. As the daughter of Don Russo, and heiress to the second biggest Italian family down here in Miami, after the Colombino’s of course, my life has been lived behind closed doors of security and well intentioned guarding. I know my father isn’t really trying to protect me from the world, he taught me to shoot a pistol for my tenth birthday, but any time I’ve spoken about doing things outside of the family, as in, me being a fashion designer, it’s been a firm no.

  “Yes,” Mimi says, her eyes wider than mine. She squeezes up close. She expands the post and whispers to me. “There’s gonna be a catwalk, fre
e drinks, photos. Their key designer Tommy Lippe will be there too …”

  “T-Tommy Lippee?” My chest tightens and I can barely breathe. I’ve dreamed of his designs and meeting him for years. He’s a genius. He’s a miracle worker. He’s a—

  Colombino.

  Obviously I know, and have been reminded plenty of times, that Piovere is a brand owned and used by the Colombino family to traffic drugs and money. But Tommy Lippee, despite his heritage and blood, is a complete master of the cloth.

  “Imagine it,” Mimi says. “We’re in the club, the catwalk is happening. The dresses you dream of are walking by, then Tommy Lippee is there too. He asks you to his VIP table. You chat and play coy … And eventually it’s him who takes your virginity after all these years!”

  “Mimi!” I slap her wrist but she giggles like a schoolgirl. “Let’s go to this,” she jabs her phone. “Before you start overthinking and ruining all the fun. It begins in thirty minutes.”

  “But what will we do about—” I nod my head at the guards.

  Mimi smiles. “Leave that to me. I’ve hooked up with Rocko enough times to think he’ll want some action if I just,” she winks and cocks her hip up.

  “And Seb?” I say, cocking my own hips to the side.

  Mimi rolls her eyes. “Do I have to think of everything?” She frowns though. “I’m not sure about Seb actually.” Her face falls. “Dammit Soph, can’t you just hook up with him already. Guys are so much easier to control when they think they’re gonna get some.”

  “Hey, hold on. Do you still have that repellent spray you have for pervy guys?” I ask, already taking her handbag. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Sure, it’s the green bottle. It says that it’s a perfume, but it’s pure skunk.”

  I find it and dab some of the repellent on my wrist. “Follow me.”

  “I’m not sure how easy that comes off,” Mimi whispers.

  We pull the curtain aside and I make a face of disgust. Sebastian and Rocko turn around expectantly, their already tight suits bulge at the smallest bit of action. Rocko grins at Mimi and she grins right back.

  “We have to go to the toilet,” I say. My face is one of disgust. “I think some grandma got a little too excited in the changing room watching her grand-daughter try on a dress or something, cause—” I hold up my wrist to Rocko and Seb’s faces. They get a whiff of my wrist and both gag.

  “Dio mio,” Seb says. “What the hell is that?”

  “I dunno,” I say. “But it’s on the couch. We’ve both been in it. We gotta wash our hands,” I say, pulling Mimi along.

  Rocko is still wiping his eyes and trying to sniff his own cologne, as Seb answers for them “Not getting that dress then?” he asks hopefully.

  I shake my head. “No, not today.” then after a pause. “But you know father’s rule! We’ll meet you at the toilets,” I say, pulling Mimi along. We don’t wait for his reply and run through Nathan’s shop and out the doors into the mall.

  I know that Seb and Rocko will talk with Nathan and get the dress packed up anyway, it’s always father’s demand that I don’t come home empty handed. So I know we’ve got a bit of time.

  “How come you never did that earlier?” Mimi laughs, as we run away, suddenly free and peeling out into the streets of South Beach.

  “I don’t know,” I reply. “Maybe the reason wasn’t good enough.”

  “Uh, excuse me?” Mimi says, looking at me out the side of her eyes.

  “Please honey, I can see you any day. But a Piovere and Tommy Lippee?

  We both giggle and cross the street between cars full of people and taxicabs. People are everywhere and the street is pumping. The sun has set and the silhouettes of the palm trees linger before us. The air is hot and the scent of the street is full of food. We weave down the sidewalk, giggling like idiots and not looking back for Seb or Rocko.

  We pass a few hotels and cross another street, after another corner the neon haze of Hush appears. The black building is divided by a single pink neon line. It eventually spirals into a glowing finger pressed against a giant set of lips. Hush! Is written beside it.

  My whole body is humming. I’m so close to seeing real Piovere dresses worn by real Piovere models.

  Even if we’re headed to an enemy family’s club. It’s worth it.

  I can feel it, I’m going to be a fashion designer.

  Chapter 2

  Luca

  “I just love the feel of a crisp fucking suit,” Marco says, rolling his shoulders and looking at himself in the mirror.

  “Well, that one begins at ten grand,” I say, taking a sip of my rum.

  “Probably why I like it,” Marco grins, looking at me through the mirror. “I mean, is it tailored for me or what?” He turns and looks at himself from different angles. “Look at this ass. This is the ass of a god.” He looks at me expectantly.

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “We’ve got bigger things to think about Marco,” I say.

  We’re up in my office, overlooking the club through a one way mirror. Below the crew is setting up for the show tonight. It’s ingenious, one of my best ideas yet. I don’t like to gloat. But sometimes … I love to gloat. I take another sip of my drink.

  “So you wanna go over it again?” I ask.

  “Not really,” Marco laughs. “We’ve done nothing but discuss tonight for the last two months.” He steps away from the mirror and rubs his nose. He must’ve brought some coke with him.

  “Well I want to,” I grunt. I don’t react to Marco rolling his eyes and folding his arms. Had it been anyone else, I would’ve lost my head and began screaming at them. But I’ve known Marco for years. We’ve been friends since I was eighteen. He’s like a brother.

  “Man, we know the plan. We’ve gone over it, and over it. I know. You know. The whole fucking family knows,” Marco says. “We all know which dress is what drug, what it represents and the quantities to order. I’ve updated all the special VIPs as to the order of showing too. You can trust me,” he finishes, sincerely.

  I crack my knuckles and roll my head around in my hands. I know we’ve gone over it a million times. I know we’ve gone over it more than we needed to. I’m just nervous. I’m thirty eight fucking years old and nervous. Then again, nothing has ever had so much riding on it.

  “Now,” Marco says, putting hands on hips. “There’s ladies down there that weigh half your weight and suck dicks like a vacuum cleaner. I say you take the advantage to blow some steam off. I know I will tonight.”

  I finish my rum and walk to the window. I don’t reply to Marco as I watch everything happening below. If everything goes to plan, this will cement my position in the family. Surely after this, my father will finally let me step up to being the Don. He’s hinted at it enough times.

  From our eagle’s nest I can see the backstage we’ve made behind some quick curtains that have been hung from the ceiling. Adrian’s there organizing everything like a military sergeant, and Tommy Lippee, our in-house designer, is floating around with a Martini in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The two of them are the shortest men in a sea of women all heads taller, but as viscous as vipers.

  I snort a laugh and then look at the large cavernous space that is Hush. We bought the club a few years ago as an experiment to bring in some legitimate money. As well as laundering a shit ton through it as well, but Hush has become its own thing. It became a success without us even lifting a finger. That credit goes to Dee, the Manager. This is her baby, really. I can see her working behind the bar, running the workers in circles to get set up for the night.

  This evening is mostly a private event, but so Piovere looks legit we made it a secret show too. Only announced it hours ago. It's a high ticket entry, which will keep out the riff raff, but even then, it’ll sell out. It’s gonna be a big night.

  “Why haven’t you fucked Dee yet?” Marco asks, coming up beside me and talking with his usual candor.

  “Cause I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

  “Well you should learn to,” he says, adjusting his suit pants. “It’s a lot more fuckin’ fun, and lot less fuck’n boring.” He grins and goes to the side table, pours himself another rum, pivots and tops mine off too. “You know soon you’ll realize, you need to relax. Stop being so close to the grindstone. Let off some steam and learn to trust others.”