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Bad Princess: A Mafia Romance Page 3
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Squatting down to her level, I look my daughter in the eyes. “If you think dealing with your mother tomorrow will be bad, wait until you suffer my wrath. I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.” I apply the smallest amount of pressure, attempting to place the fear of God in her more so than causing any amount of pain.
It must have worked, because her brown eyes double in size and then she starts to nod her head profusely, tears welling in her lower eyelids.
“Go to bed like your mother told you to do,” I order, my tone harsh.
“Yes, sir,” she squeaks out, pulling out of my hold. Without another word she turns, and I watch her as she races up the stairs as fast as her feet will take her.
“What about my teeth?” Ren cries out.
I flick my eyes to him. “Be a man and suck it up, Lorenzo.”
“Tony!” Ari huffs out a breath before bending down and lifting Ren into her arms.
“I didn’t know she was planning to go all Mohammad Ali on her brother, Ari,” I plead to my wife as Ren sniffles, trying to control his emotions. Good boy, Lorenzo.
“Tomorrow, she is starting ballet whether she likes it or not. I’m not raising three boys. She’s going to act like the girl she is, do you hear me?”
“Yes, of course, baby. Whatever you want.” I smile down at my wife, then wrap my hand around her upper arm and pull her into me for a kiss.
“Ewww,” Ren whines, but I ignore my son, finishing the kiss I started before pulling away and looking into his mother’s eyes.
“What I want is for her to stop trying to outdo her brothers at boy things. She’s a girl.” Irritation mars Ari’s beautiful face, but I’m smart enough not to dispute anything she just said.
Ari and Sienna are polar-opposites when it comes to things that interest them, but similar in the way they stand their ground. I’m not about to tell my wife that watching our daughter throw her first punch might be one of the proudest moments of my thirty-two years. “I’m sure she’ll learn to love dance. Now, go put Ren down and come to bed with me.”
She smiles up at me and nods, before heading in the same direction our daughter did moments ago. I watch my hot wife’s ass sway from side to side, forgetting our daughter’s drama when I realize exactly what Ariana is doing.
If she wants my dick, who am I to deny her? Maybe a fourth hellion is what my wife needs, because something tells me Ari is going to have one hell of a time molding Sienna into the proper princess she wants her to be.
Sienna is too headstrong for that. She’s a Caputo, after all.
Chapter 4
SIENNA
PRESENT
Walking into my father’s home office, I shut the door behind me and see his head snap up, looking over his iMac at my approaching form. He’ll be fifty in a couple of months, but he doesn’t look a day over forty. There isn’t one strand of gray to be found in his styled jet-black hair. He works out as hard as my brothers and me do. To the outside world, I can see why men tremble in his presence. He really can come off scary.
“Take a seat, Sienna,” he orders, his tone already attempting to chastise me.
“Yes, Daddy.” I comply, my voice sugary sweet, and I’m rewarded with an arched brow. “Oh, sorry. Of course, Boss.”
“Acting like a brat is beneath you.” He stands, folding his arms over his broad chest. He’s dressed in his usual—an Armani five-piece suit. Tonight being no different from any other day or night, he’s adorned in a black-as-night jacket with matching pants and a pressed black shirt and black tie. Dad hasn’t been seen in any other color since the day before my mother’s funeral.
People say his soul died the day she did, but I know differently. He just hides it from the world, the same way he made me hide my real identity for years. I know deep down he’s afraid the same thing that happened to her will happen to me. It won’t, but there’s no telling him that. It’s the reason seeing me with a cut on my jaw and a bruise forming around it gives him peace of mind.
He’s okay with my brothers beating my ass and me kicking theirs. He’s not okay with someone else hurting me outside MMA. God forbid anyone try. The devil himself might even fear the wrath of Antonio Caputo.
“Is Vin alive?” I inquire, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.
The way he stares at me makes my palms sweat, but I force my eyes to stay locked on his dark glare. Sitting back down, he steeples his hands together and leans forward. “He’s still breathing.” That confirmation relaxes my shoulders. “It’s like he was coached on how to pass his test. Was that your doing, princess?”
I shrug. “And Levi?”
It’s like a flame of fire ignites through his eyes at the mention of his name. “What do you think?”
Yeah, that bastard is probably at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean by now; no doubt the fish are making a meal out of him. I shouldn’t laugh at that thought—it’s morbid, after all—but I don’t give a fuck either. That dickwad got what was coming to him. You don’t fuck over Tony Caputo and live to talk about it.
I told Vin on more than one occasion not to let Levi King in on anything my father’s men told him or instructed him to do. When Vin found out I was Tony’s daughter a year ago, he started begging me for an introduction, an interview to discuss working for my dad.
Why anyone on the outside would want anything to do with our world is beyond me. It got my mother killed. The mafia is nothing but living through blood bath after blood bath. It’s not a life at all. It’s a life sentence. I learned that at a young age, but when you’re born into this life and it’s all you know, you deal with it. You suck it up and move on. You even learn to like it in ways.
That’s my motto.
“I heard Matteo De Salvo was there with them and you wouldn’t allow your brothers to take him.” It’s not a question, which means I don’t have to answer. I also know my brothers didn’t rat me out, so it was one of the men on his payroll that’s afraid of him.
I may have to find out who that was and properly introduce him to the real Sienna Caputo. It had to be one of the younger guys trying to impress my father. Little do they know rats aren’t welcome in our family; especially if they’re ratting out a Caputo.
“You’re not to beat Paul’s ass, Si.” It’s me who arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow this time. “That’s an order.”
“Accidents happen, old man. I can’t always be held responsible for who falls into my fist.”
“Your mother would be ashamed of the daughter I raised.” He sighs out a tired breath.
“Nah, she’s probably wishing she could throw a punch as effectively as me right about now.” Oh, fuck. Did I say that out loud? Shit. Shit. Shit. By the look in his eyes, Levi isn’t the only one he’s going to murder tonight. “Daddy, I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I’m sorry,” I say, trying to backpedal my way out of this mess.
The silence in his office is so deafening that I can hear my own heartbeat pounding against my breast plate.
The heat in his stare finally dies out, but I continue holding my breath. “In hindsight, Si, I wish I had made your mother learn self-defense. Knowing that you could probably kick my ass helps me sleep easier at night.”
“Wanna find out?” My eyes light up at that very thought. I should feel ashamed for even thinking about wanting to go toe to toe with my father, but I’m not. In fact, the thought is thrilling.
“Do not look so happy at the thought of beating up an old man, princess.” His brows dip and his lips purse. It’s a much easier demeanor to sit in the presence of than the lethal one I just saw.
“Dad, you’re not old,” I chime back, relaxing in our usual father-daughter banter.
“And your little ass better not forget that either.” One side of his mouth tips up in a rare smile. That’s probably the biggest thing I miss about my mother. She made my father smile daily. He was happy when she was alive. Now he just goes through the motions of everyday life.
“We just need to find a hot li
ttle number to keep you in check. That’s all.” My own lips crack a smile at the way he cringes.
“Please do not ever say that again.” I can’t help the chuckle that fills the air between us when I know I’ve just grossed out the most dangerous man I know.
“Am I free to go now?” I ask, hoping I’m out of whatever hot seat Paul put me in. Dad is delusional if he thinks my hands are staying off his man for ratting me out. In fact, I might bring Ren and Dom in on it with me. If they find out what he did, his ass will be grass before I can get to him. My brothers are awesome like that.
“Am I going to have to order you to stay away from De Salvo?” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s meant as an intimidation tactic, but this form isn’t so effective with me. It only works on Lorenzo.
“Why would I have anything to do with him? It’s not like we run in the same circles, Daddy.” Not like Matteo has ever given me a second glance. But I don’t say that.
“Then why did you feel the need to protect him a few short hours ago?” he inquires, and I see the genuine curiosity in the eyes that’s trying to see into my soul.
“Matteo isn’t known for doing what he’s told. Plus, he has a kid. I didn’t want her to become fatherless tonight if Dom and Ren decided to get a little handsy.”
He gives off a look that says he knows my answer is a stretch. Even he knows Matteo could take on Domenico and Lorenzo and likely come out on the winning end. Matteo is that good; even Dad bets on him in every one of his fights.
“We’re done, daughter.”
“What are you planning on doing about Rico?” I probe, even though I know I should have kept my mouth shut and left when he dismissed me. But I’m too curious. It’s too much of a coincidence that Vin started working for my father and then his sister’s husband is seen accepting money from a dirty rat like Fredrico Romano. Rico is up to something and I know my father aims to find out what that is.
“That’s for me to know, and if I deem it necessary for you and your brothers to know also, I’ll inform you all. Until then, behave and stay out of trouble.”
“I’m a princess.” I shrug, laughing. “What kind of trouble am I going to get myself into?”
“The same kind of trouble that you’re bound to get your brothers into as well.”
I stand, shaking my head. “Not me, Daddy.” Smiling, I lean over his mahogany desk and place a kiss on his cheek, and then turn, making my way to the door to make my exit.
“Sienna,” my father calls as I reach for the handle. I open the door but look over my shoulder before exiting his office. “Stay the fuck away from De Salvo.”
“Yes, sir,” I respond, like I’m the obedient princess he knows I’m not.
Chapter 5
MATTEO
“My dad’s a badass.”
I hear my daughter’s voice ring through my thoughts, and I whirl around on the mat so fast I don’t take the time to see the figure squatted down beside her from where she sits against the wall.
“Brooklyn,” I scold. “Language! You do not repeat cuss words. Do you hear me?” I command, fuming that curse words fall from her lips like it’s no big deal. I make it a point not to say those words in front of her, but her mother, on the other hand, does nothing to curb her foul language around our impressionable daughter.
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Brooklyn doesn’t wait for my reply, turning her attention back to the person next to her. “He’s never lost a fight.”
That’s not exactly true, but it has been a long time since anyone has managed to knock my ass to the floor.
“I’m a lot more of a badass than he is.” She throws her thumb over her shoulder, pointing at me, and something about her sassy voice sounds familiar—and sexy. “I could beat him.”
“You’re a girl. He doesn’t beat up on girls,” Brooklyn tells her, and I can’t help but give a satisfied smile. She’s right. I won’t hit a woman, not even her mother, no matter how much I want to strangle that bitch.
“Too bad,” the woman says, and I let my gaze fall to her. She plops down on her ass and twists around so that her back is to the wall the same as Brooklyn’s, and it’s then I realize who it is—Sienna D’Angelo, or Caputo. I still don’t know which, nor have I thought of her again until now. “I could totally take your dad.”
“Keep dreaming, lady.”
“Wanna bet on it?” Sienna nods her head and then twists back to her knees. “How much money you got in that bag?”
“I got ten dollars,” my daughter tells her.
“So, if I get him on his ass, that ten bucks is mine, right?” Sienna confirms.
“Can you not cuss in front of my kid, please?”
“What?” Sienna shrugs. “She dropped the ass bomb before I did.”
I put my wrapped hands onto my hips and stare at the adult making bets with a five-year-old. Sienna pushes off the ground and stands up. I can’t help but take her in. Her dark hair is pulled up into a high ponytail on her head. She’s wearing a white rash guard that appears to be soaked in her sweat and glued to her fit body. I’m almost certain I can make out the outline of her nipples through a very thin sports bra, but I force my eyes to move on, not lingering like I’d like to. Her thick, muscular thighs are cased in red and white shorts that hang loosely, stopping mid-thigh. They have slits sewed into each side that allow for easy leg kicks.
Bet she takes kickboxing for the fitness aspect of it. And from the looks of it, it’s done her body a world of good. This gym caters to anyone into serious MMA training to people looking to get in a great cardio workout.
I watch as her bare feet step onto the mat as she stalks toward me.
“You might as well give my kid the ten dollars. I’m not going to pretend to let you knock me out, babe.”
Her mouth opens and a giggle rumbles out. “I didn’t ask you to pretend, De Salvo.”
She stops in front of me and I have to drop my eyes to meet hers once again. She’s not quite a foot shorter than my six-foot-three height, but I’d be willing to bet she stands at five-foot-seven or eight inches tall. “Then would you like me to go ahead and put you on your back to get this over with?”
Her brown eyes track mine as she starts to walk around me. I follow, moving my feet and turning with her. “I’ll have you on your back way before you have me on mine,” she taunts.
I smile, because it’s cute as shit that she believes the words that came tumbling past those plump red lips of hers. She doesn’t have a stitch of makeup on, and she doesn’t need any. Her lips are already stained such a deep red that it looks like she’s wearing lipstick, yet she isn’t.
“Baby, don’t kid yourself.”
“I’m not your baby, De Salvo,” she challenges with a little too much venom, insinuating that’s exactly what she wants to be—my girl. She used to watch me with those dark eyes way too often to have not had the hots for me. Domenico’s comment about her schoolgirl crush comes back to me.
Yeah, she had a thing for me all right.
It’s okay, though, because I’m pretty sure I have a thing for her right now too. She looks like a fucking panther the way her eyes track my movements. We’re going around the mat in a circle and it’s like I’m her prey. I’m not used to being anyone’s prey; it’s usually the other way around, but I guess this one time won’t damage my reputation too bad.
If anything, I’ll get some entertainment out of it, and maybe I’ll pin my body to hers on the mat and feel what she has to offer. Sounds like a win-win to me. “You can be. If you want.” My lips spread. “At least for a night.”
“Trust me, De Salvo. You couldn’t handle the wrath that would come from . . .” Her eyes skate over to where my daughter watches us, then Sienna’s dark irises flick back to mine and she mouths, “fucking me,” so that Brooklyn doesn’t hear her, before continuing in a sassy tone that I’m beginning to like a little too much. “You can probably take my brothers, but my father is in a league of his own.”
“So, you are a Caputo.”
“All the way down to the marrow in my bones,” she admits.
“Neither one of you looks badass from where I’m standing.” Brooklyn sighs out a dramatic breath.
Lifting my arm, I snap my fingers and point toward my daughter without taking my eyes off Sienna.
“She’s a mouthy little shit,” Sienna whispers.
“Yeah.” I break my hard stare, cracking a smile as I glance over to where Brooklyn now stands with her hands on her hips. “But she’s a cute mouthy little shit.”
“We doing this or what?” Sienna asks, stopping with her back to Brooklyn. A crowd has started to form near my daughter; mostly people that workout here, and a couple of the trainers seem to have taken an interest in me and the Caputo princess.
I wonder why I never knew that? Her brothers went to private school. Why didn’t she?
Looking over Sienna’s head, I see Michael, one of the Muay Thai trainers. “Bring me my gloves,” I yell, looking at him. He nods, turning to go locate my gym bag that’s by my daughter’s feet.
“We both know you only use gloves when you’re in a sanctioned match. This is just for fun, De Salvo,” Sienna says.
My eyes dip back down to hers. “You seem to know a lot about me. Still like watching me, do you?” I taunt.
That wiped the smile right off her face, which was exactly what I wanted to happen, and to prove what I already knew—she was a creepy little stalker back in the day. Guess she still is. That should work in my favor, though.
I’m caught by surprise when her hands suddenly grab me by the shoulders, and before I know it, I’m taking a knee to my lower abdomen; too close to my goods for my liking. Within a three-seconds span, she steps back, her foot lifts and push kicks me in the stomach—hard I might add—shoving me backward, and then Sienna advances, kicking again. Before I can defend myself, I’m on my back staring up at the ceiling.