Page 4 of Merciless Queen (Moretti Mafia #1)

Caterina

I flashed a bright smile at Birdie as I strolled into Voyage Corporation.

My father was owner and CEO of Voyage, but he was somewhere in Italy with God knows who.

I despised the magazine, but I supported women, and I could admire the beautiful models who were photographed for it.

Being his COO of the company meant I needed to show my face, interact with our employees, and approve certain things for the next spread.

I detested this. Did people even read magazines anymore?

My father made a name for himself in the city.

A multi-million-dollar pharmaceutical company, a fashion magazine, and an industrial lot used for drag races, amongst other things.

He was rich, one of the wealthiest bachelors in the city.

He wanted to have a legit business as a decoy for his illegal business with the mafia, and to my dismay, I was the heir.

I loved the man, but after taking my rightful place as heir, sometimes I wished he would have adopted a son.

He didn’t care about that stereotypical alpha male, submissive female bullshit that everyone else followed.

I could rule with an iron fist. I didn’t care about that.

It was everything else. The parties. The charity galas.

The fucking marriage and producing an heir.

Men were dumb and thought I needed a man to stick his dick in me to get a baby.

The thought of carrying a baby made me sick.

I saw myself as a mother, but I didn’t need to carry to fulfill that.

“Caterina Valencia, ciao mi bella ,” Mario Scavo clamorously greeted, kissing both my cheeks. “Gorgeous girl. How are you?”

“Mario, always a pleasure. The magazine is beautiful as usual. My father wants to know how everything is looking. Are the models happy?”

“They are being photographed by me. Of course they are happy.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the tablet from the desk and skimming through the few pages that were formatted.

As usual, they were eye-catching and gorgeous.

It was fall wedding season, so we had florals, dresses, and venues for the fall brides.

Our key feature was a woman who used her fashion to help lower-class families during the holidays.

She not only created warm clothing and gave it to them for free, but she also donated a quarter of the profits to soup kitchens, donation centers, and housing.

She even wanted to venture out of Chicago and help other cities.

“How are Christen’s designs photographing? They are the star of this spread.”

“The girls look fantastic. Bellissima . I have dates with two of them.”

I respected a woman who used her beauty to create a life for herself, but I loathed the men it attracted.

People like Mario could trick models and promise them things for certain jobs they desired, but it only took one thing: their bodies.

I glowered at Mario, and he stiffened before shooting his hands in the air.

“Consensual, of course, Caterina.”

“It’s Cat.” I closed the gap he made between us and grasped his jaw. “If you hurt those girls or promise them something without fulfilling your bargain, my father will need to hire a new photographer.”

His Adam's apple bobbed, and I let go of his jaw, pushing him back.

The room was tense, but everyone knew who Caterina Moretti was.

Including the shit I refused to tolerate.

From the illegal businesses to the legit ones, I refused to let men think they had the power.

My father taught me young to never take a man's disrespect.

If I had an issue with one, I brought them to their knees.

Men thought with the wrong head when they saw beautiful women, and then they’d turn around and blame their beauty for their reaction.

I could admire a beautiful woman and all her attributes without becoming unhinged over one.

If women came together, we could rule the world, but men were such fragile creatures.

“I will expect the full spread when it is done. Until then, don’t call me.”

Spencer landed a punch to my jaw, sending ripples of pain down my spine, but I pivoted, dodging the next one she threw. Her horrid stance would disappoint Natalya, who had worked hard to train us. I spun, kicking my leg out and hitting her shin, causing her to fall on her back with a hard thud.

Spencer was one of the best people I knew.

She was the lead bartender at my club, a helping hand with mafia business, and one of my closest friends—even if I refused to admit it to her.

The praise would boost her ego, and she would be a menace.

She could handle a knife better than anyone else I knew, and she might’ve seemed innocent with her pink and black hair, but she was brutal.

I'd seen her stab men in the thigh for even cat-calling her.

I straddled her hips, grasping her wrists and pinning her down. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes dilated, which instantly made me pull back. Spencer smirked, flipping us and pinning me under her with a sly grin spread across her lips.

“You know how easy it would be for me to fuck you?” she purred huskily, brushing her fingers down my face.

I glared at her, and she laughed before pulling herself off of me.

This back and forth was foreplay, although we would never sleep together.

Spencer was a domme, and although I was not in the community per se, I was dominant with my women.

If Spencer and I ever thought of crossing that line, it would cause my house to explode.

Two dominating energies were not how I liked things.

Besides, we would spend too much time fighting over who was on top.

“No.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun.”

“Do you know if Luca or Malachi have found anything about this woman?”

Spencer stretched her arms, popping her shoulders. “Would you be mad if I told you we have a man in the basement I’ve been playing with?”

I glared daggers at her. “How long has he been here? And why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to have my fun with him first,” she whined like a child. “It’s no fun when you leave me the scraps.”

“Did you at least get information out of him before you tormented him?”

“I just wanted to watch him bleed. But he’s still alive, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

I ripped my fingerless gloves off, throwing them in the center of the room. “One day, I am going to kill you.”

That day might be today.

She took my fun away from torturing this piece of shit, but I guess I should’ve thanked her.

He was going to confess like a sinner in church.

Admiring the work she did, I circled him like a lioness, smirking at the way his body tensed.

His body trembled with sobs as blood continued to drip from his wounds.

Spencer took four of his fingers—two from each hand, ripped the nails from his toes and remaining fingers, pulled all his teeth, and carved shapes in his skin.

He still had pants on, so I didn’t think she went ‘Penis Picasso’ on him… yet.

“This can go one way, or I can have Spencer in here to mutilate your cock. Take your pick.”

“P-Please d-don’t let h-her ne-near me,” he stuttered, tugging at his restraints.

I pulled out my knife, twirling it around between my fingers. “Who is the girl Vincenzo Mancini is marrying?”

He trembled with overwhelming fear, his entire body quivering as terror coursed through him.

I could see the tension in his muscles and the pain etched into his face.

He took each breath in ragged, shallow gasps.

It was annoying. I needed fucking answers.

My fist curled into his shaggy hair, yanking his head back.

“I-I d-don’t k-know h-her.”

“Who is she? You must know who she is, even if you never met her.”

“S-She’s hi-his f-favorite w-whore. H-His girl.”

I clenched my fingers around the knife, tempted to stab him in his jugular, but I held myself back. “Did she choose this?” With men like Vincenzo, there was no telling.

“Y-Yes. W-We g-get her.” I glowered at him. “S-She’s t-the r-reward.”

I pressed my knife to his jaw. The one question that had been burning in my mind since finding out about her finally slipped free. “Is it consensual?”

“Y-Yes. B-but t-they won’t h-have her anymore. H-He’s ready f-for a family. V-Vincenzo i-is r-ripping her b-birth control o-out a-and g-getting h-her p-pregnant.”

Absolutely not. There would be no spawn for him to raise to act exactly like him. Heaven forbid if she had a little girl. He would have her in the hands of some man before she could fucking speak. Vincenzo would create nothing if I could help it.

“Where is she right now?”

He stuttered as my blade scraped his neck. “Hi-His house. I-In his bed.”

“Good. Maybe you won’t die tonight.” I left the basement, leaving him screaming. Spencer could have fun with him. I didn’t care if she slit his fucking throat.

I knew exactly where Vincenzo’s home was, disgusted that we were in the same fucking city.

The need to kill him was surging in my veins, but starting a mafia war was not what I needed right now.

This girl was my perfect chance. If he was in love with her, then I could use it against him.

Love was a fool's game. It was how Vincenzo broke my father.

Malachi and Cornelius bombed another one of Vincenzo’s drug shipments, making it the fourth one this week.

I learned a long time ago to stop having my shipments come in through Chicago, but he had yet to realize that.

Mine came in through New York and my ally, Roman Petrov, sent shipments my way.

Vincenzo wouldn’t touch Petrov because he feared the Russians, and apparently, they had an agreement with another mafia boss, Orlov.

The three of them couldn't touch each other without breaching the treaty and causing war.

If Petrov could fight with me, I would end Vincenzo.

I waited for the intel to get to Vincenzo.

He thought he was safe and would leave his house with limited protection, even if the girl was in his bed.

If she was obedient like the rumors said, she would stay in Vincenzo’s bed, waiting for him to return home.

Was she there willingly, or did his informant lie to me?

In this life, one couldn’t believe the word from a rat, but money spoke more than action.

I needed to get to this woman and find out how I could use her to make that asshole pay.

If she was there willingly, did she know what the hell he did when he wasn’t home?

Or was she involved? Tormenting and ruining innocent people for his sick game?

Hidden in the shadows, I watched Vincenzo storm out, his anger burning like wildfire.

Excellent. He left three men to watch the girl, and killing them was child’s play.

With Vincenzo being one of the most hated families, one would think he’d keep his wife protected, but maybe he didn’t truly care for her.

Regardless, she would be mine tonight. If she was a villain, I would prolong her death and ensure that he received little pieces of her from time to time.

When I got the clear from my intel at the docks, I snuck into his house, waiting in the shadows before allowing my men to come inside.

The girl was in the kitchen, rummaging through kitchen cabinets while her soon-to-be husband was away.

The thought of her willingly sleeping with him was enough to drive me insane.

Everyone knew who Vincenzo Mancini was and what he did to the innocent.

Vincenzo was my weakness, and I was not ashamed to admit it. I listened to him rape and murder my mother while he continued to be untouchable because of vapid mafia treaties. He made me angry. The mention of his name sent an inferno of fiery rage scorching through my veins, and I hated it.

When the woman was back upstairs, Luca joined me inside, installing cameras and bugs so I could get more intel.

Vincenzo would know it was me who took his little wife and he would retaliate, but with our cameras in his home, we could figure out what he was going to do.

Vincenzo was reactive, retaliated without thinking, and that was his weakness.

If I said men only reacted without thinking, I’d be lying, because I’d reacted horribly because of him.

“Finish what you need. I’m going to get the girl.”