Willed to the Enemy: Venturi Mafia, #1

By Nikki Rose

 

Book 1 in the Venturi Mafia Series.

Mia Monticelli has little time to mourn her father's death before she must take his place as head of the Monticelli crime family. While attending the reading of his will, she finds that her father included conditions to her inheritance. She must marry the heir to the Venturi family, or forfeit half of her father's legacy. But Giovanni Venturi isn't the type of man Mia saw herself marrying. He's irresponsible, selfish, and cruel. And what's worse, she has a history with his brother.

 

Matteo Venturi puts family above all else. As the devoted son and consigliere to his father and don, his life consists of covering for his reckless older brother and doing whatever is needed to help the family. But Teo never expected his future sister-in-law to be the mystery girl he'd fallen for five years before. Feelings reignite every time Mia is near as Teo fights for the strength to push away the only girl he's ever truly wanted.

Warning: This story contains violence, murder, death of a loved one, drug use, strong language, sexual situations, organized crime, attempted SA, and other adult content that may be disturbing to some readers. Content intended for readers 18+

**This book ends on a CLIFFHANGER**

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nikki Rose
• Release date: Sep 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201430160

Nikki Rose

For as long as she can remember, Nikki Rose has enjoyed writing stories. For years, writing was just a hobby for this South Carolina native. It was a way to let out all the stories floating around in her head. After one of those stories took on a mind of its own, outgrowing even the parameters of a single book, Rose knew she had to pursue her dream. Married to her high school sweetheart and best friend, Rose feels she is truly living out a romance story of her very own. As a stay at home mom of two, she is blessed with the time needed to work on her writing career full-time while her kids are at school or in the wee hours while normal people sleep. She considers herself a music obsessed chocoholic and hopeless romantic who enjoys weaving romance stories with a healthy dose of mystery and suspense.

Book preview

Mia

The warm summer sun danced on my skin, and I squirmed in the uncomfortable folding metal chair. It was easier to focus on the little discomforts rather than on the words being spoken over my father’s grave.

Five years. He'd fought that damn disease for five years before it finally got the best of him. I gazed up, through my dark sunglasses, at the blue sky. It seemed wrong that the weather would be so nice on such a sad day as if mother nature was mocking me in my grief.

It’s strange, the things your mind latches onto when someone you love dies. Some people agonize over regrets, some hang on to the happiest memories to get them through the pain. But for me? I hung on to the little things, the routines that happened every day.

My cousin, Armando, reached over and gently squeezed my hand, offering me the small comfort to help me keep it together. Armando was gentler than most of the men in my family. Even his hands were softer, less calloused. I credited that to the fact that he was the family doctor. He was more concerned with healing than working in any of the family’s businesses.

That didn't make him any less valued. We were able to go to the doctor that was one of us. A regular civilian physician would have far too many questions about the types of injury that Armando treated. Stabbings, gunshot wounds, and other suspicious injuries were required to be reported to the police. So, having someone willing to do the doctoring under the table was helpful in our family's line of work.

Dante, Armando's younger brother, sat on my other side and nudged my shoulder with his. He dipped his head, bringing his lips close to my ear. Just hang in there a little longer.

I nodded and glanced between my cousins on either side of me, brothers, yet complete opposites in practically every way. With my father gone, they were the ones I trusted most in the world.

They were worried about me, and I could understand that. I’d always been a daddy’s girl, even before my mama died. It was no surprise that I was handling my father’s death harder than I had my mother’s, thirteen years earlier. I didn’t see my father all that much since he worked a lot, but it only made our time together more special.

When I was a child, I would count down the minutes until he got home. Papa always had the same routine. He’d slip his shoes off at the door, greet me with a kiss on top of my head, then head into the kitchen to kiss mama and make himself a drink. When I was nine, I finally convinced my father to teach me how to mix his negroni just right so that I could have it ready for him when he got home. He said no one could make it better.

I would have given anything to go home and make him a drink again.

Mia, Armando, gently nudged my arm and nodded toward the priest who was looking at me expectantly.

I wiped a stray tear from underneath my glasses before making my way to the front. I took a deep breath, laid a white rose on the closed casket, and fought back the tears that threatened to break free.

Goodbye, Papa. I nearly choked on my whispered words.

Armando placed a comforting hand on my back, and I took in a shaky breath. Dante stood at my other side, lightly gripping my elbow, he guided me away as the other family members paid their last respects.

Once we were on the edge of the large group, Dante stopped, and Armando studied me for a moment. "You alright, trottolina?" Little spinning top, it was a nickname I’d earned when I was seven. My father had given me a beautiful light blue dress and, I learned that if I spun fast enough it would flare out wide around me like I was a top. My nonna affectionately called me her trottolina and it stuck.

I gave Armando a quick nod I just need to get out of here.

Okay, the family is supposed to be meeting at Franco’s after...

I need to go home. Will you cover for me?

Sure. They’ll understand. But Mia, are you sure that you should be alone right now?

Yeah, I just need a little time.

Okay. Take care of yourself, alright?

Always. I forced a smile and Armando pulled me into a tight hug before finally helping me to the car.

The ride home seemed to take forever while I fought back the tears that welled up in my eyes. I was thankful for the sunglasses hiding my reddening eyes from Fausto, our family’s long-time driver. He’d seen me cry countless times as a child but things were different. As my father’s only child, it was custom that I would take over the family, though, since I was an unmarried woman, I wasn’t sure how the men of the family would react to that. The last thing I needed was for them to see my weakness.

Armando and Dante were different. I could show them my frailties and know that they were safe. Both men looked out for me like older brothers, and I was grateful.

The town car pulled onto the long winding drive up to my home. As soon as the car came to a stop, I thanked Fausto and hurried into the house.

Ms. Mia, you are home early from the funeral. Is there anything I can get you? Lucia, the housekeeper, and cook, startled me as I walked through the door. Her usual, soulful brown eyes were rimmed in red, and I wondered if she’d been crying.

No thank you. I'm tired and just want to lie down for a while.

Of course. Please let me know if you need anything.

Thank you. I will. I hurried up the stairs and made it into my room just as the tears finally won, pouring down my face with violent sobs that shook my entire body.

I crawled under my covers and pulled the blanket up over my head, letting myself finally fall apart and mourn the loss of my father.

Mia

I walked down the polished oak stairs, through the grand foyer, and into the expansive dining room where several members of my father's organization had gathered. Even with twelve full-grown men and myself in the room, there was still plenty of space to move about. Large family dinners were customary for us when I was younger. Even though I didn’t have any siblings, we were always hosting extended family or those in the family and so the house was designed for such gatherings.

The reading of the will would be the first meeting where I would be more than the Don’s daughter. I would become their next leader. I took a deep breath and ran my trembling fingertips over the front of my sleek, black dress. It was more modest than the usual clothes I wore. I wanted to appear professional which was why I had struggled for half an hour to rein my long, wavy locks into a respectable bun.

Several of the higher-ups in the family sat around the table. At the head was Mr. Brambilla, the executor of the will and my father's trusted lawyer who had managed to help my father skirt the law more than a few times over the years.

When I was younger, even through high school, my father did his best to shield me from the family business. It wasn’t until his diagnosis that he started opening up to me about the darker parts of what the family meant. He had apologized for not preparing me sooner. I suppose that he thought he’d always have more time, but time snuck up on all of us.

There were two empty seats to his right and across from them sat a man I never would have expected there. Piero Venturi was my father's most ruthless enemy. Our two families had been at war for years after some trouble with a business deal. From there, the animosity only grew.

A hand gently took me by the arm, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, glancing up into Armando's soft eyes.

"What's he doing here?" I looked toward Piero and Armando followed my gaze.

Trust me, I asked the same thing. According to Brambilla, it was requested in the will that he attend.

My father wanted him here?

It would seem so.

But why?

There's only one way to find out. Shall we? He tilted his head toward the table, and I nodded, letting him guide me to our seats.

As much as I tried not to, I couldn't keep from glancing over at Piero. When he finally caught me looking at him, he greeted me with a nod and sly grin.

I wanted to order him to get out. To tell him off for the hell he had put us through over the years. All of the threats, the intimidation. But my father was dead, and the family was on rocky ground until we knew exactly what was in the will.

I lowered myself into the chair beside Dante and Armando took the seat next to me. Once we were settled in, I gave a nod to Mr. Brambilla that I was ready to begin. He cleared his throat loudly, silencing the quiet chatter in the room.

Thank you all for coming today. It is my great honor to have been chosen by Don Monticelli as executor. I know that this is a difficult time for us all, he paused and met my gaze for a moment before continuing. And I know that you all have other things you need to be doing, so without delay, let’s get started.

He cleared his throat and straightened his back before beginning. I, Abramo Gerardo Monticelli, being of sound mind, not acting under duress or undue influence, and fully understanding...

Some of the men around the table shifted in their seats as he went on with the long wordy legal jargon. Piero crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. For the first time in my life, I had the opportunity to study my father's enemy. My enemy. I felt like a child finally coming face-to-face with the villain from some fairy tale story. He dressed in all black, his suit, his shirt, and his tie. Although he was older than my father by at least five years, he looked younger. In the last couple of years of my father's life, the cancer had taken its toll, aging him faster than I'd ever seen.

While Piero Venturi looked powerful and intimidating, I realized that I had built him up to something more in my mind. He was just a man.

Mr. Brambilla’s next words pulled my attention back.

"I devise and bequeath all of my property, both real and personal, including but not limited to our family home, vineyard, winery, and rental properties, as well as all of the family business ventures to my daughter and sole heir, Maria Nicholetta Monticelli."

It was nothing too surprising. The whole family knew that my father would leave everything to me. He had been grooming me to act as his successor for the last five years, ever since he'd gotten the diagnosis the summer before I was to start college.

Once my inheritance was official, I relaxed slightly back in my chair while a few other details were listed off as far as who would help run certain aspects of the businesses under me.

My mind drifted again, that time to a fond memory of when I was young, sitting beside my father in his study while he went about his various business dealings, all the while I pretended to do the same. I’d always admired him and wanted to be just like him when I grew up, but I was nervous, sitting there with the weight of his empire suddenly placed on my slender shoulders.

And to the heir of the Venturi family, my ears perked at the lawyer’s words. I entrust what is most valuable to me, my only daughter, Maria Nicholetta Monticelli to be wed in holy matrimony within one year of my passing or hereby forfeiting fifty percent of her inheritance to the Venturi family as previously arranged in the legal contracts set forth on record with the Brambilla Law firm...

At that point, Mr. Brambilla’s words faded away, covered instead by a roaring sound in my ears and I felt woozy.

Armando’s muffled voice finally cut through the noise, Mia, are you okay?

I took a few deep breaths and blinked quickly before finally finding my senses. Everyone was chattering, building to a loud roar, most casting glances between Piero Venturi and me as they talked.

I looked to Mr. Brambilla. The will couldn't be saying what I thought it was. There had to be a mistake. My father couldn't want me to marry the Venturi heir.

Mr. Brambilla, this can't be right. This can't be what my father wanted for me.

I’m sorry, Mr. Brambilla started. But the contracts signed at my office between Mr. Monticelli and Mr. Venturi are completely above board.

Regardless, a contract requiring me to marry can’t be legal.

I assure you that the contracts and will set forth are completely legal and binding. These documents cannot force you to marry, of course. But if you choose to go against your father’s wishes, you will forfeit fifty percent of your family’s estate to the Venturi family.

Fifty- percent? That’s crazy. My father would never hand over our family’s legacy to the Venturi’s.

He made his intentions very clear. If you would like, I can go over the exact assets your father had selected to be given over if you choose not to marry Mr. Venturi's heir.

No, I’m not going to discuss this nonsense with you. I’m not giving them anything. I stood, nearly knocking the chair over in the process.

Ms. Monticelli, perhaps we should speak about this matter privately, Don Venturi suggested while glancing around at all of the eyes watching my reaction.

I cast him a warning glance and scoffed before storming out of the room and across the hall to my father's study so that I could catch my breath. They’d made a fool of me in front of all the heads of the family. I thought they were seriously open to my father’s wishes for me to take over, but it turned out the joke was on me. They didn’t see me as anything more than a token to be given to our enemies and for what? To bribe them into not making a move on our family once my father was gone? Did he think I was so weak that I would let our family fall?

Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing? The Venturi family was no larger than ours, but where our main focus had been on our legitimate wine business and underground casinos, theirs was more focused on weapons and drugs. They were violent and powerful, and while our family could put up a fight, it was no secret that, if it ever came to war, they would eventually win.

Maybe by arranging a marriage between the two families, my father thought that he was protecting me, but how could he expect me to marry one of them? The Venturi heir, a man I had never met.

I missed my dad. I wished that I could talk to him, to ask him why he would arrange such a thing. I sat on the edge of his desk, covered my face with my hands, and cried.

I jumped at the sudden knock on the door and quickly wiped my tears away.

Who is it?

The door creaked open, and I was surprised to see Mr. Venturi through the crack.

What do you want? I hardened my tone and stood up from my perch on the desk.

I hoped to speak to you for a moment, in private. Don Venturi slipped into the room, leaving the door ajar. Are you alright?

Am I—of course, I’m not alright. My father just died and apparently, he thought it would be a good idea to will me away to your family like I’m some piece of property he can just give away, I snapped.

He stepped farther into the study, taking a seat in one of the leather chairs. I don’t see it like that.

Of course, you wouldn’t.

The way I see it, he gave you a choice. You can either marry my son, joining our two families which offers you and your entire household protection, or you can surrender fifty percent of your assets which no longer makes you a threat to my family since it would simultaneously weaken your family and strengthen my own. You will see in those contracts it also states that the fifty percent is to buy your family protection from other families who might try to take over.

Everything he said made perfect sense which only made me angrier.

I’ll fight this in court.

He raised an eyebrow and gave a small smirk. "Do you really want to risk the court discovering all of your family’s assets?"

Fine, so I’ll marry your son then get it annulled the same day.

He let out a small chuckle and smiled at me as though I was a small child. "Don’t you think that I was smart enough to cover that? The details clearly state that you must remain married with a few exceptions your father insisted on, including abuse and infidelity, in which case the marriage could be dissolved, and