When He Takes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Fallen God Book 2)

KT Bar & Grille in Hazard, Kentucky, isn’t the kind of place you’d bring a date.

The floors are sticky, and the smell of stale beer hangs in the air. A neon sign buzzes softly in the corner, casting a sickly green light that barely reaches the rest of the room. There’s a jukebox in the corner, but it’s silent, and the only sound is the low murmur of the few patrons scattered around the bar.

It’s the sort of place that feels forgotten, tucked away from the rest of the world. It’s the sort of place where people go when they don’t want to be found.

“Another one?”

I nod, sliding my empty glass toward the bartender. He refills it with Angel’s Envy and passes it back.

“You been to these parts before?”

“Not really,” I say from beneath my cap. “Drove through once or twice.”

“What brings you to Kentucky?”

“Just visiting a friend.”

A friend who’s running late. I check my watch and sip my drink. Patience has never been my strong suit.

The door to the outside opens, letting in a gust of wind. I listen to the sound of the newcomer’s footsteps—heavy, evenly spaced.

Is it him?

The man takes a stool two seats down from mine at the bar.

“Hey, Brett. The usual?” the bartender asks.

I smile to myself.

“Yeah, thanks.”

The bartender pours him a frothy pint and sets it on the counter. “Here you go. Will you gents be good here on your own for ten minutes? I gotta take my break, and Sally called out.”

“Go ahead,” Brett says, already pulling out his phone.

The moment the bartender disappears in the back, I slap a twenty-dollar bill onto the bar and stand up.

Honestly, I didn’t think Brett would fucking skip town after he heard what I did to those Iron Raptors, but that’s exactly what the coward did. He handed his bar back to his daddy and left the state. He probably figured the Raptors might come after him after his meddling in my business got their guys killed. But it looks like they’ve forgotten about him.

I’ve got a much longer memory.

I approach him quietly, taking in his hunched posture and the way he’s glued to his phone. The guy’s so wrapped up swiping through his online dating app that he doesn’t notice when I stop right behind him. I lean in, my voice low.

“She can do better.”

He freezes, his fingers hovering over the picture of a grinning brunette. Slowly, he looks up. The color drains from his face, and fear floods his expression.

A slow grin spreads over my face. Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.

“What the—’

“You knew I’d find you eventually,” I interrupt, keeping my voice casual. “But we can talk about that outside. You and me need to have a little chat.”

He swallows hard, glancing around the nearly empty bar as if searching for an escape route. The bartender’s already in the back, and the other patrons are too busy nursing their drinks and not giving a fuck about a pretty boy who’s not from around these parts.

When he doesn’t move, I decide to help him out. I’m a nice guy like that. Grabbing the collar of his jacket, I yank him off the stool and onto his feet.

He makes a pitiful yelp.

“Let’s go, Brett. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

He stumbles as I steer him toward the exit. He tries to resist, but it’s pointless. When we reach the door, he makes an attempt to wrench free. He probably thinks he can make a run for it, but I tighten my hold and shove him outside.

The chilly night air wraps around us. The street is quiet, the distant hum of traffic the only sound. A guy and a woman are smoking at the other end of the building.

Brett eyes them desperately.

I smirk. “They look like smart people, don’t they? Smart enough not to interfere.”

“Listen, man, I didn’t—”

I shove him against the brick wall, cutting him off mid-sentence. “I lied. There’s nothing left to talk about at all.”

His eyes grow wide. “Please, just tell me what you want.”

A car pulls up behind us, the trunk popping open.

I lean in. “I’ve already got it all.”

With that, I grab him by the collar, toss him into the waiting trunk, and slam it shut.

5 hours later

“Well, that was fun. Thanks for making the time, guys.”

“When you said you wanted a bachelor party the night before your wedding, I didn’t think you had this in mind,” Rafe drawls, leaning against a wall of our makeshift torture room.

Alessio did a fucking excellent job getting it set up. It’s pretty much a replica of his “palace,” but a bit cozier and more intimate.

When I invited him to join Rafe and I, he looked flattered. When I told him my plan, I swear, I’d never seen him so excited.

He glances at Rafe from where he’s packing up his tools. “I wish I could convince Cosimo to do something like this. Instead, he’s got Romolo planning his bachelor trip to Sicily. Rom always gets too many girls and not enough real entertainment.”

Rafe narrows his eyes. “Your brother’s marrying my sister. Tell him if he gives her chlamydia, I’ll cut off his dick, sauté it, and force-feed it to him for breakfast.”

Alessio smirks. “I’ll relay the message.”

I chuckle. These two are something else.

With the Bratva pushed out of the city, the Messeros and the Ferraros are the undisputed rulers of New York, but that doesn’t mean the joining of the families has been smooth sailing.

We’re still all learning how to work together without wanting to break each other’s necks, but we’ll get there eventually.

I clap my hands together. “Alright, enough chitchat. We’ve got to get our guest of honor all packed up and tossed into a river.”

For all the tough-guy posturing Brett did back in Darkwater Hollow, he broke swiftly and easily.

But we didn’t rush it. We took our time making him pay. I wanted him to feel ten times the fear and terror that Sunshine felt when she was taken by the Raptors.

I wanted him to hurt.

And he did.

Alessio slaps his hand against my shoulder. “Rafe and I have a crew coming to handle it. We figured you did enough cleanup for a lifetime during your few weeks with me.”

“Seriously? Fuck, you guys are spoiling me.”

Rafe’s lips quirk into a rare smile. “That’s what friends are for. Now, let’s get out of here.”

As we step out into the night, the cool air hits my face, and I take a deep breath. The stars twinkle in the clear Kentucky sky, and I feel like everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be.

“Gentlemen,” Rafe says, brushing off his hands, “I’d say this was a productive evening.”

I run my fingers through my hair. “Yeah. Just the kind of send-off I was hoping for.”

This was the last loose end I needed to tie up before the wedding.

I’m about to marry the woman I love. Again. And nothing—not even the ghosts of the past—will stand in my way.

BLAKE

The next morning

“Your groom is late,” Del announces, glancing up from my phone with a teasing smile. “Or should I say husband? Wait, does he revert back to groom for the day? This is all very confusing.”

“It is,” Cleo chimes in from her spot on the sofa in the bridal suite. “My oldest sister had a similar situation with her husband. They eloped first, then threw a big wedding later for everyone else.”

“Is that like a mob thing? Getting married twice?”

I wince as I fix a pin in my hair. “Del.”

She shoots me a sheepish grin. “Sorry, am I not supposed to say that? Still figuring out the etiquette.”

“Trust me, the etiquette has been drilled into me since birth, and I still don’t follow it,” Cleo says with a flick of her hand. “But the two-wedding thing is weird, isn’t it? I guess a surprising amount of people don’t get it quite right the first time.”

Del nods thoughtfully, her gaze drifting back to the phone. “Makes sense. Oh, Nero’s texting again… Wow, he’s really sorry. He’s promising to make it up to you tonight by— Damn, girl, he’s got a mouth on him.”

I snatch the phone out of her hand. “That’s the last time I let you keep an eye on my messages.”

Del laughs. “He was just getting to the good part.”

I shake my head and glance at myself in the mirror. My heart races as I take it all in. The dress fits like a dream, the fabric cascading down my body like it was custom-made for me.

Oh that’s right—it was. Because apparently, when you’re getting married in front of the New York Cosa Nostra, no expense is spared.

I slide my hands over the luxurious fabric, excitement fluttering in my stomach.

My first wedding was rushed and chaotic. This time, everything is planned, perfect, and deliberate.

But it’s not the stunning reception hall, the dinner menu, or even the dress that has me smiling like a fool.

It’s the fact that I’m getting to rewrite the story of how I married the man I love.

Cleo stands. “We should get going. They’re a half hour away. I’ll go get the driver.”

“Okay, we’ll be right there,” I say back.

She tosses me a smile over her shoulder as she steps out of the room.

Over the past few months, Cleo’s become more than just a friend—she’s become a confidante, someone I can count on. We’ve even started a tradition of a weekly happy hour, which usually end with us wandering into boutiques and making questionable purchases.

At first, I hesitated to spend Nero’s money. But after he insisted—several times—that I wasn’t spending enough and even threatened to start shopping for me if I didn’t loosen up, I finally relaxed.

Of all the things I’ve bought, though, my favorite has been the little touches for the beach house. Nero and I escape there whenever we can, and with summer approaching, I can’t wait to spend even more time there with him.

Del steps up beside me, placing her empty champagne flute on the vanity. “Ready to go?”

I exhale, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. “I think so.”

Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, and they’re suddenly filled with tears. “I can’t believe my best friend is about to walk down the aisle.”

“Oh, don’t cry,” I say, standing up and handing her a tissue.

Del’s lips wobble as she takes it and dabs at her eyes. “After everything you two have been through, seeing you here, happy and glowing… It’s beautiful. I’m so damn happy for you.”

I wrap my arms around her, emotions thickening inside my throat. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

She squeezes me tightly. “If he ever stops making you deliriously happy, I’ll kill him myself.”

A sob that’s more laughter than tears escapes me. “Deal.”

She drags her palm over my back. “You’re sure, right?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.” My certainty burns brightly inside my chest. Everything in me says this man is it.

Del nods, wiping at her cheek. “Then let’s go and get you married.”

NERO

I drag my palms over my lips. “I can’t believe I’m late for my own wedding.”

It’s almost noon and we’ve just landed at JFK.

The plan was to zip it back to New York in Rafe’s private jet and be back by three a.m., but the fucking weather kept us grounded until the sun began to rise.

“We’ll make it,” Rafe says. “I already called your planner, and she said they built in a buffer and can start fifteen minutes late. Tiny’s here waiting for us with your suit.”

As soon as we get down the steps, we fucking gun it to the Escalade parked on the tarmac.

I change into my suit as we speed down the road toward the church in Westchester where Blake and I are having our wedding. Rafe helps me with my bow tie. Alessio procures a comb from somewhere so I can tame my hair.

“How do I look?” I ask, smoothing my palms over my tuxedo jacket.

“Like a happy bastard who’s ready to walk down the aisle,” Rafe says.

I grin. “Fuck yeah, I am.”

It’s been two months since Blake chose me. Two months of pure fucking bliss.

The day after she came back, we took that walk through Central Park, and that’s when the idea to give her the wedding she truly deserves struck me.

We’d get married in a beautiful church, surrounded by our family and friends, and she’d finally have the chance to be the beautiful bride she was meant to be.

A week later, while we were browsing through a bookshop in our neighborhood—a place she’s fallen in love with—I brought up the subject. The way her face lit up when I suggested it told me everything I needed to know.

And today, we’re finally going to make it happen.

I can’t wait to paint right over those memories from the Vegas chapel and create something far more meaningful and pure.

I also can’t fucking wait to see her reaction when I tell her I bought that bookshop for her.

I catch sight of her just as we pull up outside of the church. We’ve agreed to walk in together, hand in hand, despite tradition. It’s a symbol of the fact that we’re committed to facing everything life throws at us—the good and the bad—together.

She’s standing there, radiant in her wedding dress, the white fabric flowing around her like she’s floating.

She looks like a fucking angel.

Damn it, there’s something in my throat.

I step out of the car and jog toward her, my heart racing inside my chest. “Baby, I’m sorry! Got held up.”

When I get to her, she smacks me lightly with her bouquet, but she’s smiling so hard that she’s practically glowing with joy. “Am I going to have to drag you down the aisle this time?”

I cup her cheeks and press my lips to hers, and the world around us fades into a blur.

Everything is so right, so damn perfect.

I pull away and grin. “Wherever you go, I go, Sunshine. Always.”

BLAKE

2 hours later

“A toast to Mr. and Mrs. De Luca!”

The room erupts in cheers, the sound echoing off the high ceilings of the grand reception hall. I’m nestled in Nero’s arms, sitting on one of his thighs. He shamelessly dragged me there as soon as we sat down at our sweetheart table.

“Bacio! Bacio!” The chant starts softly and then builds in strength, the word passing from one guest to another.

I look up at Nero, my heart swelling with emotion. His dark eyes, filled with love and a hint of mischief, meet mine, and a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Bacio!” The chant grows louder.

He cups my face in his hands, his touch gentle yet possessive, as if reminding me that I’m his, and he’s mine. Forever.

“Should we give them what they want?” he asks low enough so only I can hear.

“It would be rude to disappoint our guests, especially after we’ve kept them waiting,” I tease.

When our lips meet, it’s soft at first, a tender brush of skin that sends warmth flooding through me. But then he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue inside my mouth, tugging on my bottom lip with his teeth.

The cheers around us intensify, but I barely register them.

How can I, when my husband—the most infamous consigliere in New York and the best man I’ve ever known—is kissing me like this, with raw abandon?

Pure joy bubbles up inside my chest.

I can’t believe how far we’ve come—how far I’ve come.

When Nero first brought me to this city, I couldn’t imagine how loving a man like him would force me to confront my own shadows.

But it’s not just his darkness that I’ve embraced—it’s my own as well.

I’ve chosen this life with him, fully aware of the risks and the dangers.

I’ve chosen to embrace his world, knowing that it’s not always going to be easy or safe.

Because at the end of the day, I don’t want easy or safe.

I just want him.