AUCTIONED TO HER DAD’S MAFIA ENEMIES: A MAFIA AGE-GAP REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE (AUCTIONED SERIES Book 4)

A WOMAN SCORNED

The basement reeks of blood and sweat, the acrid scent mixing with the faint traces of damp stone and bleach. Enzo sits before us, wrists bound behind the chair, ankles zip-tied to the legs. He’s bruised, bleeding from a split lip, his temple dark with dried blood, but his eyes burn with undiluted rage. Spitting at the ground, he glares up at us like a rabid dog caught in a steel trap.noveldrama

“You can’t do this,” he snarls, his voice hoarse from hours of yelling. “I’m a made man. You think you can take me like this and not answer for it? Alfonso will retaliate and kill every last Venturi rat.”

Luca steps forward, his hands in his pockets, looking down his nose at Enzo with that deadly calm of his, the kind that promises slow, deliberate retribution. “You ordered a hit on Aemelia, Enzo. On your own blood. While she is under our protection. That alone is enough reason to put a bullet in your skull.”

“I did what had to be done,” he hisses. “She’s nothing to me.”

Alexis leans against the metal table, spinning a knife between his fingers. “You and your brother rejected her when she was a child. What kind of person does that? You think she’s not a Lambretti, but she is. She’s your niece, and you tried to kill her.”

Enzo’s sneer deepens as his gaze flicks to where Aemelia stands, just behind Luca, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. “I know she’s Carlo’s spawn. His filthy blood runs through her veins.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Everything Carlo touched should be exterminated. That bitch of a wife, her sickly sister, the addict brother—all of them.”

Aemelia doesn’t flinch. If anything, her chin lifts higher. I glance at her, searching for fear, for hesitation, but she seems bulletproof against his words. I exchange a look with Alexis. Does he know why Enzo is so determined to wipe Carlo’s family off the face of the Earth? I can’t even imagine having the same impulses about any family of my brothers.

Luca steps in closer, crouching so he’s at eye level with Enzo. “Does your boss know about your little vendetta?”

Enzo clenches his jaw, refusing to answer, but I see the flicker in his gaze. Doubt. Guilt. His actions have put him at odds with his boss’s interests. He stepped over the line that provided his protection.

Luca sighs as if this entire conversation bores him. “Let’s make this easy,” he says, nodding to me.

I step forward, gripping the knife Alexis was toying with. Without a word of warning, I slam it through Enzo’s hand, pinning him to the wooden arm of the chair. His scream echoes off the concrete walls, but I don’t move, don’t let go of the blade. I press down, twisting it slightly, watching as pain overtakes his anger.

“Does your boss know?” Luca repeats, his voice is softer now, almost gentle.

Enzo pants as sweat beads on his forehead. His fury is still there, but the pain has stripped away the bravado. “No,” he finally grits out. “This is my decision.”

Luca nods, unsurprised. “And Carlo?”

The laughter that spills from Enzo’s lips is manic, unhinged. “Carlo’s dead,” he spits, eyes wild. “I killed him myself.”

“You killed your brother?” Luca laughs and shakes his head. “You expect me to believe you killed your own brother?”

“That bastard meant nothing to me.”

Luca turns to me and raises his brow. I guess I should be relieved that he thinks fratricide is so unthinkable. I twist the knife, watching thick red blood drip to the floor. Enzo screams, his body arching back, his other arm and legs straining at their bonds.

“Why?” I growl, twisting again.

He doesn’t answer and I twist some more, opening a hole between the bones of his hand.

“He seduced my wife,” he screams, writhing from the pain. His face is red and slick with sweat, veins bursting across the whites of his eyes.

A silence falls over the room, punctuated only by his ragged breathing. I frown, recalling that Enzo’s first wife disappeared around the same time Carlo did. Divorce was the explanation.

Even Alexis stops twirling the second knife he pulled from his jacket.

Enzo grins through the pain, his teeth stained with blood. “He thought he could fuck around with my wife behind my back. After he cried over what your brother did with his. He deserved the way Mario treated him, like a fucking cuck. I slit his throat and dumped his body where no one will ever find it.” He leans forward as much as his restraints permit him to grin with defiance.

Aemelia’s breath hitches, the first sign of emotion I’ve seen from her since this started. I glance at her again, finding her rigid with hands clenched into fists. There’s no sadness in her eyes, no grief for a father who never cared for her—only cold calculation.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?” I spit, thinking about how easily he lied to my face, how much we put Aemelia through because of his deceit, and I want to peel the skin from his flesh, piece by piece.

“Your brother was the start of this. Why the fuck should I give a shit about you.” Then Enzo smirks through the pain that’s made his eyes wild and his skin slick and gray. “And while we’ve been sitting here having this conversation, my men have already been sent to finish the job.” He turns to Aemelia, his eyes dancing. “Your mother, your aunt, your junkie brother—they’ll all be dead before sunrise, and you as soon as they can get to you.”

Luca doesn’t hesitate. He turns to me, his voice sharp as a blade. “Send a crew. Get them out. Now.”

I’m already pulling my phone from my pocket, calling Vito, and issuing orders.

Then I dial Aemelia’s mother’s number. She picks up on the first ring with an anxious, “Hello.”

“You need to take your sister and your son and get out of the apartment right now. Enzo’s sending his men to kill you.” I hang up before she can ask questions. There’s no time to debate. She just has to act. It’s the best I can do.

This just became more than a personal vendetta for us. It’s a war against Aemelia and her family, Enzo desperately trying to make a brother he’s already killed pay with more blood.

When does it end?

I’m tired down to my bones, sick to death of this pain, and misery. All I want to do is wash my hands and take Aemelia to bed. Use my body to make us both forget.

Enzo, despite the knife still embedded in his hand, chuckles darkly. “It’s too late, Venturi. They’ll be bleeding out before your men even get there.”

Luca doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns to Aemelia.

“What do you want to do with him?”

Her expression is blank, unreadable. But when she speaks, her voice is steady, absolute. “Kill him.”

Enzo scoffs. “You think you have the stomach for this, little girl? You’re like your father. A coward who couldn’t face up to his own mistakes.”

She steps forward then, close enough that he can see the fire in her gaze. “You made your choice,” she says, her voice cold as ice. “Now live with the consequences.”

Before Alexis can react, she snatches the blade resting loosely in his palm and plunges it into Enzo’s chest.

“NO,” we all shout in unison, not because we want Enzo to live but because none of us want Aemelia to live with this blood on her hands. I’d shoulder that burden for her. All of us would. But it’s done now.

Enzo’s eyes are wide as he stares at his niece, leaning over him. “An eye for an eye,” she says softly. “You better hope my family is okay, or I’ll come looking for yours.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but a well of blood spills over his lip with a gurgle of garbled sound. His gasped breathing is wet, forming bubbles in the blood that coats his lips.

I think about all the years we’ve grieved our brother while the opportunity for retribution was out of our hands. Now, we find out Enzo took Carlo’s life for his own vengeance. What a twisted situation. What a waste of anger and pain. All because Mario and Carlo couldn’t respect the marriage vows of others.

Aemelia steps back, but she doesn’t take her eyes off her uncle. She watches him twitch and gasp and choke, watching him take his last breath and flop forward, limp, as life drains from him.

Alexis shakes his head. “A made man dying like a dog in the dark.”

“Justice,” I say as Aemelia finally turns away to seek comfort in my arms. I’m so proud of her and devastated for her. This life. All it does is take. “And justice in our world is never merciful.”

She shakes in my arms, the shock of what she’s done registering too late. I cradle her close. “Forget about this,” I say. “I’ll take your darkness and make it mine. I’ll carry it, so you never have to.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, and it’s enough