IL Re

  Copyright © 2021 by Nicole Banks.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, events, and products are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Editing by: Rosemi Mederos

  Formatting by: Champagne Book Design

  Cover Design by: Emma Rider at Moonstruck Cover Design & Photography

  Photography by: Reggie Deanching

  Cover Models: Shawn Pierce

  Check out the IL Re playlist on Spotify.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Glossary

  Epigraph

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Epilogue

  Author’s Information

  Acknowledgments

  Some terms and sayings you’ll see throughout the novel.

  Agnello di rapa.—Silly little lamb.

  Che fretta c’e, piccolina?—What’s the rush, baby?

  Che passione. Non deludi.—So passionate. You don’t disappoint.

  Ho bisogno di te.—I need you.

  Il mio agnellino.—My little lamb.

  Il mio bellissimo angelo. Ti rovinerò.—My beautiful angel. I’ll ruin you.

  Mi dispiace.—I’m sorry.

  Mi porti la vita quando sono morto.—You bring me life when I am dead.

  Non posso mai averne abbastanza di te.—I can never get enough of you.

  Non provocarmi.—Don’t provoke me.

  Per sempre legati l’uno all’altro.—Forever tied to each other.

  Piccolo/a.—Little one.

  Principessa.—Princess.

  Sarei perso senza di te.—I would be lost without you.

  Sei la mia casa.—You are my home.

  Sei la mia luna.—You are my moon.

  Sei sempre nei miei pensieri.—You are always in my thoughts.

  Sono solo un uomo distrutto senza di te.—I’m just a broken man without you.

  Sta arrivando la morte.—Death is coming.

  Toccami di nuovo, figlio di puttana.—Touch me again, son of a bitch.

  Veloce.—Quick.

  What is a king without his queen?

  Brooklyn, New York twenty plus years ago

  ANTHONY THREW OUT THE GARBAGE in the back of the pizza shop where he worked. They were getting ready to close, and as much as he hated going home, he was exhausted. He wondered if his friend, Aurora, would let him crash on her floor again. He’d have to leave before her parents got up, but it was a better option than going home to his abusive father.

  There was a commotion in the alley, and Anthony walked farther in to see the same group of guys who’d just been in his pizza shop, shouting and surrounding something on the ground. “Yo!” Anthony shouted, and they all turned to face him.

  “Get the fuck out of here, dipshit. This doesn’t concern you.” The one in the middle snapped, and Anthony reached behind the dumpster for the pipe he knew was there. He kept it there in case some crackhead or the gangs that hung out around here gave him shit.

  The group looked at the pipe and the one in the middle smirked. “You can’t take all of us. You want to get fucked up for someone you don’t even know?”

  It was better than getting fucked up by someone who was supposed to protect you. “If you think I can’t take you all on,” he motioned for them to come at him, “I’m all for proving you wrong.”

  The one on the left blanched, and the kid they were beating on groaned. Anthony watched as the kid slowly stood to his full height. “I’m pretty sure we can both take you on. How about it, Russo? Me and the new kid versus the rest of you. I say we finally even the odds.”

  The Russo kid turned to face the one he’d been beating on. “This ain’t over.” He turned toward Anthony. “As for you, you better watch your back. Sticking your nose in other people’s business will get you fucked up.”

  Anthony shrugged; he’d been through worse. They left and Anthony checked on the kid he’d just saved. His lip was bloody and it looked like he already had a black eye. He was shorter and thinner than Anthony was, but he had a look in his eyes that told Anthony he was a fighter.

  “I’m Tommy. What’s your name?” He stuck out his hand.

  “Anthony. You hungry? We’re closing up soon but still have some slices left.” He took the offered hand in a firm grip and Tommy winced.

  “Good grip. Don’t take this wrong the way, but you remind me of a bear. Big and burly and not to be fucked with.” Tommy winked and Anthony found himself smiling. This kid looked rundown, but he was still full of charm.

  “Thanks for saving my ass. Not many would have interfered. How about them slices? I’m starved.” They walked back toward the pizza shop, and Tommy hopped up, swinging his arm over Anthony’s shoulders. “You know, I think we’re going to be great friends. It’s going to be you and me against the world, and I’m never wrong, Bear.”

  Bear sat in the dark with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He didn’t keep liquor in his apartment, but this bottle had been a gift from D when Bear bought this place. They were already high up on the food chain, making so much money they had no idea what to do with it, so Bear bought his own spot. This one was away from the life—a place he could call his own and not worry about his enemies finding him here.

  “This is a sick pad, Bear.” Tommy whistled and handed him the bottle of whiskey. “When we’re kings, we’ll crack this open and celebrate the good life.”

  Bear closed his eyes, letting himself cry for his oldest friend. He needed to get to Tommy, but his body felt heavy with grief, and he couldn’t find the energy or strength to get up off the couch. He felt utterly alone for the first time since D walked into his life that one summer night damn near twenty plus years ago. Every good memory Bear had was wrapped up in a man whose heart just stopped beating.

  “Fuck, D.” He whispered into the night air, wondering if D could still hear him.

  Bear’s body silently shook as he cried into the darkness that surrounded him. He knew this day was eventually coming, but knowing and dealing with it were two different things. Bear thought he was prepared to lose his friend, accepted it, but the pain in his heart told him otherwise.

  He heard a soft meow before he felt four paws on his legs. He wiped his face and pet the furball who was purring louder than Bear’s tears. “Go back to bed, bud. Cam is going to notice you’re gone, and we had a deal. You stay here so you can keep an eye on her.”

  As if he conjured her up, Bear heard her footsteps against his floor, and his body sparked to life at her proximity. They had agreed to be together—him foolishly believing there was hope out there for him—but he still hadn’t touched her since she’d been kidnapped. He was trying to be the good guy Cam believed he was, letting her heal from her ordeal no matter how hard she tried to tempt him.

  She walked into his kitchen first. Her body silhouetted by the dim moonlight that peeked through one of his windows. She looked like a mirage to his tired eyes, making him imagine that she wasn’t really here and that these last few months had been some sick joke his mind sought to play on him. These months had been his glimpse into what heaven could feel like, and D’s death brought him back to the reality that he was still chained in hell.

  Maybe guys like him and D, who had sins even a priest couldn’t forgive, weren’t meant for the happy endings they coveted.

  The cat in his lap meowed and jumped down to greet Cam. She bent down to pet him when her gaze went to Bear. Even in the dark he could see her piercing green eyes—could feel them taunting him, like some nightmare he couldn’t escape. He never dreamed of finding a love to call his own, but if he had, he probably would have dreamed up Cam. The quiet strength to match his own, the hunger that rivaled his, and the way she made him feel like a king when he was a lowly servant.

  The power of a woman.

  He smirked, remembering the words he’d spoken to Tommy about Naila and the way Aurora had turned D into a different man when she was around. Cam had that same power over him. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in her while his world had turned into chaos, but this was a darkness he didn’t want to taint her with.

  “Why are you in the dark?” Her sleepy voice was just as addictive as the husky tones that slipped from her lips when his hands explored her body.

  “Bear?” she questioned, standing to her full height. She was in one of his T-shirts. The damn thing came down to her knees. She was so small compa
red to him. He looked down at his own hands, remembering the feel of her warm neck underneath his palm while he drove her to her orgasm. He’d brought her pleasure, but how easy would it be for him to snap her delicate neck?

  The monster that you are is still alive and well. You’ll destroy her because that is the man you are. Darkness can’t stay in the light without changing it.

  That sinister voice he thought he put to bed had woken up with his drinking and the news of D’s death.

  Look at your life. D never found his happiness after he lost Aurora. Palermo had to keep the love of his life a secret and he lost her anyway. You’re going to lose Cam too. It’s just the way your world works.

  Bear put the bottle on the end table, not wanting to entice the voice in his head by adding more fuel to it. He knew better than to believe it, but the way he was feeling he knew those words were true. He might have had Cam standing in his home, but for how long? The news of D was going to be blasted on every news outlet around the country and probably the world. If they didn’t have Mikos to deal with, there would be others who would come to collect what D, Palermo, and he had kept for themselves. Tommy was certain that Bishop was the answer to everything, but Bear’s cynical mind knew it would come at a cost.

  This life always took its payments in blood before it gave you what you wanted, and by then, it wasn’t worth it anymore.

  Cam turned on one of the lamps in the living room, and it bathed her in a white light—making her appear as an angel coming to rescue him. Bear smirked at the accuracy of the description. She’d been the angel he learned to stop praying for, but she still came to him with love in her eyes and warmth in her heart, putting a balm on his.

  “Bear?” Her voice was quiet, but it seemed to echo in the room they were in. She walked toward him and put her hands on his chest. He flinched at the touch, and she took a step back. If he hurt her, she didn’t let it show.

  “You’ve been crying?” she whispered as she looked down at him. He nodded, too tired to try and lie to put her at ease. “What happened? Is it Naila?” Her voice hitched and she turned to leave, probably to check her phone, and he grabbed her arm, standing to his full height.

  He towered over her. He felt more monster than human when he looked down at her—the wolf with the sharp teeth and claws, salivating for the green-eyed lamb.

  “Naila is fine.” His voice sounded foreign. It was hoarse, like he’d spent the last hour screaming his pain instead of swallowing it. “It’s D.” He struggled to finish his sentence. He couldn’t force the words past his lips without it sending little shards of glass to cut the inside of his mouth.

  Bear swayed on his feet. He felt Cam’s arms wrap around his waist, and he couldn’t understand how her tiny body had the strength to hold him up, even through the loss of his friend.

  “I’m so sorry, Bear.” She unhooked her arms from around his waist and brought her hands up to cup his face. “Tell me what you need.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head as the tears streamed down his face. Her thumbs wiped them away, and it felt like she was ripping him open—exposing him to her light, and it fucking hurt. He didn’t know how to be around it when his darkness felt all too consuming.

  “Principessa.” He groaned and he felt her lips against his. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He kissed her back with a hunger that was borderline possession. He bit her bottom lip and his other hand came up to fist her hair.

  “Il mio bellissimo angelo. Ti rovinerò,” Bear whispered against her lips before pulling out of her hold and taking a step back. His cock felt permanently indented against his jeans, and his heart beat widely in his chest. As much as he wanted her, he couldn’t subject her to the torment that was in his mind. He couldn’t use her body as his own personal therapy session, knowing no matter how many times he poured into her it would never be enough to erase what he felt, and he knew eventually he would taint her—change her—but not for the better. He would dim that light inside of her that he was drawn to in the first place.

  “Go back to bed, principessa. I’m okay.” He tasted the lie on his tongue as easily as he could still taste Cam.

  “Bear, don’t shut me out.” She took a step closer to him, and he felt his resolve crack. He watched her grip the hem of her shirt and start to pull it up.

  He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “Don’t,” he groaned.

  “Why not? Let me help you take the pain away.” The brown flecks that danced in Cam’s eyes beckoned him with a need he wanted to always fulfill. She was everything there was good in his world, and a dark part of him knew he was going to destroy her, and that enticed him more.

  “I won’t be gentle, principessa, and after everything….” He let the words fall from his lips, not daring to finish that sentence. He tried to hold on to whatever preservation he had left. “Sei la mia casa.” That was the truth. She had created the home he never had, gave life to ideas he long since let die. “I come to you for peace not destruction.”

  Cam unhooked herself from his hold and lifted her shirt up and over her head. Bear sucked in a sharp breath as his hungry gaze roamed her succulent flesh.

  She stepped back into his space and grabbed his hands. She guided them around her waist and looked up at him with the love he knew she had for him. “In destruction you can find peace,” she whispered and that was all it took for Bear’s control to snap.

  He was on her in a flash, consuming her and only coming up for air long enough to tell her, “Tell me if this becomes too much.” He said the same words he spoke to her the first time they fucked and repeated them again. He wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or his because the further he sunk into her, the quicker his walls were coming down and he felt everything. All the pain and loss he endured in his life had hit him all at once, and he was slowly dying until he breathed Cam in.

  When he inhaled, she filled his lungs. She was his life. The sun after his storm, but as she was healing him, he worried he was going to break her.

  TOMMY SAT ON THE COUCH in the safe house. He hadn’t been able to move since he called Bear. The dog they had gotten for his father sat at his feet. Every so often the dog would whimper, and it made Tommy’s heart hurt more. He had no clue how to make sense of any of this for himself, let alone a dog that had bonded with his father in his final moments.

  “Boss, you need anything else?” Tommy lifted his head, forgetting that he hadn’t been alone, even though that’s how he felt. The few guards who were there had stuck around after the coroner had come to collect his father’s body. It was like the warehouse ambush all over again—watching his father’s too still body being hauled away from him on a stretcher. The only difference this time was that his father wasn’t coming back to him. All the years in this life, and it wasn’t a bullet or a bomb that took out his father but his own body.

  Tommy blinked his eyes, forcing the tears to stay put. He shook his head. He was straddling a thin line, needing to break down but not doing so in front of these men who still looked at him like a boss, even though they were transitioning for Bishop to take over. “You guys can leave. I gotta wait for Bear.” Tommy’s throat hurt, like he swallowed a bag of nails.

  The guards nodded, and started to walk away, but one turned back to face Tommy. “I’m sorry. Your father was a good man to us. I know things are changing, but whatever you need, we’re all here for you.”

  Tommy felt his throat tighten. The tears he’d been fighting off since he walked into the living room were threatening to spill. On some level he knew these guys wouldn’t judge him or think less of him for showing emotion, but that didn’t make it easier for him to be open and raw with them. He was still their boss for the time being, and he needed to act accordingly. “I…,” he cleared his throat. “I appreciate it. Go home and get some rest. I’ll be all right.” He wouldn’t, but he wanted to be alone.

  The guard nodded again and left. As soon as Tommy heard the door lock, he closed his eyes and cried. “You stupid old man.” He sobbed. He knew his father’s disease was incurable, but that didn’t stop Tommy from wanting to blame him for waiting so long to get checked out, for leaving him right when they were getting back to how they used to be, and for finally finding a way out that didn’t include a casket.