His Juliet: An Age Gap Hurt Comfort Mafia Romance (Empire of Royals Book 2)

The air was damp, the ground uneven, and the sack around my head stuck to my face with every ragged inhale.

After we’d made it down the fire escape, I’d been dragged down another series of steps as the sounds of the city faded away. I had no idea where we were.

“I can’t breathe.” I tried to shout, but the duct tape silenced me. I clawed at the hood with my bound hands. “Get this off. I’m going to suffocate. Please!” I screamed the words in my head, but there were no saviors here.

I tripped on something and dropped to the ground, my hands barely breaking my fall. Tears soaked my hood and my limbs shook too hard for me to stand, even with a man shouting at me to get up.

Romeo’s going to come after me.

He loves me.

He won’t forget about me.

Rough hands pulled me to my feet, staying clamped around my arms as they pulled me through the darkness.

He’s coming for me. noveldrama

He’ll save me.

But what if he couldn’t find me? I didn’t know the details of the Mafia war with the Albanians, but I knew from my conversation with Sienna that they hadn’t been able to track the Albanians’ movements through their regular surveillance channels.

We kept walking for what felt like miles. I kept my bound hands stretched out in front of me in case I fell or passed out. With every step, my limbs trembled more and I grew dizzier. A loud rumble that sounded like a train occasionally cut through the silence. Were we underground?

Everything felt strange, detached. My emotional state had gone beyond panic, my mind separating from my body until I was barely aware of my surroundings… of who I even was.

“Stop,” a deep voice commanded. The hand on my arm painfully dug into my flesh, jerking me to a standstill.

Heavy footsteps echoed around us. Where were they coming from? The new arrivals spoke in the same unknown language. Tears streamed numbly down my cheeks. Life was so fucking unfair. I’d spent the past few years barely living, and just when I’d come alive again, it was all going to end.

Someone shoved me to my knees. “Get inside.”

Inside what? Before I could struggle or fight back, I was on the ground. I screamed as strangers grabbed my arms and legs, pushing them tight to my body. Pain blossomed in my side as something hard struck my ribs, causing me to curl up to protect myself. That was the wrong move because at the sound of a zipper, fabric closed around me. They’d trapped me in some sort of duffel bag. My legs were pressed tight to my chest, constricting my breathing. A whimper slipped through my clenched teeth as I was jostled into the air. I scrambled to hold on to something, but all my fingers encountered was slippery fabric.

Where were they taking me?

What would they do to me once I was there?

By the time I was slammed back to the ground, my stomach roiled with nausea from being swung around and my hair was plastered to my tear-stained face with sweat.

The bag was unzipped, and I was forced onto my knees. The tape stung painfully as it was ripped off my face. Deep, ragged breaths shook my chest while I squinted against the bright light. My heart sank as I realized where I was.

Inside a fucking airplane.

No no no.

It was obviously a private plane because the seats were large and spaced out. Men with guns and cruel faces surrounded me, but only one was sitting down, and I was kneeling right in front of him. He was an imposing man with a thick, muscular body and a bald head. He leaned back in his seat, legs spread, eyes fixed on me. A bolt of recognition hit me as I stared at him.

“I… I know you,” I said hoarsely.

“I’m glad to know I’m memorable.” His heavy gaze felt like ants crawling on my skin.

“You came into the bookstore.” I remembered him for his size and accent. He’d briefly been at the signing, but the first time he came into the store, he purchased a book on…

Holy shit.

The book had been about the history of the New York City subway system. The Albanians had been moving underground all this time, and I sold him the map of the tunnels.

The man laughed. “Are you putting it together, Juliet? Who knew I would find the answer to all my problems right inside your little bookstore?”

Hearing my name on his lips made me sick.

“What do you want from me?”

“You are the answer to my problems. You are the one who will restore our clan to our rightful place in the world.”

This man was crazy. He must have confused me with someone else.

“Romeo will find me.” I forced myself to keep my head high and my eyes on his. I wouldn’t cower.

His chuckle was a sinister, horrible sound. “Why would he rescue you when he was the one who gave you to us?”

My brain stuttered.

What?

No.

“Oh, she thinks the Italian really loved her. His stellina.” His men joined in, laughing. “He must have played his part very convincingly. Or maybe you’re just a gullible bitch who’s deluded enough to believe a man like Romeo De Luca could actually love you.”

No no no.

Waves of dizziness assaulted me, twisting my stomach. Sweat prickled across my skin.

This couldn’t be true. He said…

He said he loved me.

“Haven’t you ever wondered how Romeo found himself in your bookstore? Didn’t you think it was odd that a man like him—rich and powerful—would be interested in someone like you, a sad, pathetic, fat bitch? I tracked him to the bookstore that night. At first, I thought it was just a place for him to hide, but when he returned, I started wondering what kept him coming back. And then I figured it out.”

I didn’t want to hear another word this man had to say. Internally, I was screaming, but outside, my face was blank. I focused on the sensation of the hard metal handcuffs digging into my wrists. The pain centered me, keeping me from completely falling to pieces.

“Did you know I’m a triplet?” he continued. “My father tattooed us as babies so we would always know our birth order.” He pulled up his pant leg, revealing a faded blue “2” tattooed on his calf. “Thanas was my older brother by seven minutes, so he was raised to take over for our father as Krye. I was his underboss, his Kryetar. And our younger brother, Mihal, was the enforcer. That was until Thanas met her. Hana. He gave it all up—our family, our destiny—for some pussy.” He spat on the ground. “My dear brother faked his own death, and I ascended as ruler of the clan. But I knew my brother. I knew he was out there somewhere. It took me several years to locate him, but finding people has always been my skill.” He paused for dramatic effect, rubbing his hands together.

I refused to engage with him. I stared at where my knees dug into the dingy carpet.

His jaw clenched as he continued his story. “I tracked them to New York City and made my plan. I still remember the fear in his eyes as he begged me to spare his wife’s life. It’s one of my best memories—having my useless older brother, the man who was supposed to be Krye, sniveling on his knees before me.”

An evil smile spread across his face. “I killed his wife in front of him. He begged for death in the end.” His soulless eyes met mine. “But there was one thing my brother managed to keep secret. You see, his bitch of a wife had given him a daughter. A two-year-old who was locked in the closet while I murdered her parents. A two-year-old named Juliet Leka.”

Trapped.

Darkness.

Screams followed by loud bangs.

Distorted memories plucked straight from my nightmares flashed before my eyes.

Hungry.

Cold.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

“It wasn’t hard to piece together once I started looking into your background. What secrets was Juliet Smith, an unremarkable girl who had captured the attention of Romeo De Luca, concealing? It was easy to track down your school and foster care records. Poor little Juliet, terrifying all her foster families so much with her cutting that they refused to adopt her.” He rubbed his jaw, concealing his twisted smile behind his hand.

“It wasn’t hard to access the sealed court documents containing the record of your name change from Leka to Smith. Tucked in those records was the name of the detective who found you in that closet. Finding him was easy. Getting him to talk was even easier. He’d believed the murder of your parents was gang-related, so he convinced the NYPD to hide your existence from the press. With no known relatives and a new last name, you were put into foster care. There you lived, hidden away in plain sight, until you were discovered by the Italian Mafia, who needed a way to destroy their rivals.”

The man reveled in his storytelling, savoring the pain each word caused me. He leaned forward until we were mere inches apart, his hand stroking my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, begging the universe to wake me from this nightmare.

He tutted and lightly smacked the side of my face. “Don’t look so ungrateful. I have given you a great gift. I’ve saved you from your pathetic, miserable life and rescued you from a man who deceived you. He knew how valuable you would be in this war.” His fingers twirled around the fading pink in my hair. “Because you, Juliet Leka, are the princess of the Albanian Mafia. And I have great plans for you.”