Her Empire: Mafia Made Book 2, page 1
Her Empire
Mafia Made Book 2
E.M. Shue
Copyright © 2021 by E.M. Shue
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by KL Donn with Alluring Write Productions
Editing by Nadine Winningham of The Editing Maven
Formatting by Mountain Rose Press
Cover Photo from DepositPhoto
www.authoremshue.com
emshue.ak@gmail.com
Created with Vellum
Contents
Synopsis
Introduction
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue One
Epilogue Two
Sneak Peek
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by E.M. Shue
Synopsis
From award-winning author E.M. Shue comes a new dark mafia romance written in USA Today Bestselling Author KL Donn’s Mafia Made Series. Her Empire is book 2 in the series.
Anatonia is a killer. Until Vitaly comes for her. Now she will protect the hitman.
Anatonia is the head bodyguard for the Morello Mafia. She will kill anyone that comes close to Posy for Natale Morello. It's what she was raised to do.
Kill.
She's one of the deadliest hitmen to come out of MI6, KGB and even survived special forces Marine training at a young age. But few know she is the niece to the head of the deadly Bocharov Russian family. That he raised her to destroy the Morello's.
Because she defied him, he's sent his best killer to kill her.
Vitaly is the monster in the dark.
He’s the one the Bocharov family sends to end their enemies. He thinks he's only been sent to kill a rival family’s enforcer. What he doesn’t know is she is the illegitimate niece to his boss and now the woman he will do anything for.
Even defy the family he’s bled for. He’ll protect her and help her conquer her enemies.
The Bocharov Family has declared war against Anatonia, and she will end them.
Can Vitaly hold the woman he was born to protect? Will Anatonia still be standing when the blood of an Empire is destroyed?
Will they kill the Empire she was meant to lead?
This is a dark romance with aspects of graphic violence. Proceed with caution.
Mafia Made Series reading and author order:
Book 1 – His Kingdom by KL Donn
Book 2 – Her Empire by E.M. Shue
Book 3 – His Jailbird by KL Donn
While each book can be read as a standalone, readers may find more enjoyment in chronological order.
For Krystal,
Thank you so much for inviting me to be a part of this amazing series. I’m still humbled that you thought of me for Anatonia. You are also #MyRideOrDieBitch
“Throw me to the wolves and I’ll return leading the pack. (Katness in The Hunger Games)”
Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games
Introduction
Welcome to the Mafia Made world, created lovingly by KL Donn. She was excited to invite her best friend, E.M. Shue, to write alongside her with Her Empire, book 2 in the Mafia Made series.
You can find complete details of the series here: MAFIA MADE WORLD.
Prologue
Anatonia
I barely recognize my reflection in the mirror. I look just like my mama with the same icy blue eyes and blond hair reflected back. The moment causes a slight tremor in my stomach and a shake to my normally steady hands. I take a deep breath and fight the reaction down just like I’ve done every day since she died. I push myself to be what I am now, not what she would have wanted me to be. A rueful smile graces my bright red stained lips. The makeup on my body covers all the tattoos on my arms. Too many of them he’ll recognize, and I don’t want that until it’s too late.
The shaggy bangs from the short bobbed blond wig hang in my eyes. My eyes are overly done up in a dramatic cat eye. My lashes thick and full. The hair and makeup all say, “I’m ready for anything you want from me, big boy.” Exactly the look I’m going for. But it’s the outfit that ties it all together. Slitted, black patent leather micromini that sits low on my hips, showing off my belly chain, paired with a matching cropped tank top. The skirt barely covers my ass, and the top presses my C-cup breasts up. Altogether, the ensemble declares I’m ready to play.
Oh, I’m ready to play alright. The chain wrapped around my body looks innocent and sexy, but its true purpose is far more sinister. If things go wrong, tucked inside my thigh-high platform boots are my blade and 9mm. I’m ready to end this. When I was requested by my handler for this assignment, I jumped at the chance to finally get revenge against another one of the men who raped my mother. The man who watched as she was murdered. The man who tortured me. The man who is working his way to be second-in-command of the Bratva.
This is personal.
I look around the hotel room I’m staying in for my cover and double-check that I haven’t left any evidence of my true identity. I step out of the room and head to the lobby, and then out onto the Moscow streets. It’s been six years since I was in this city. Six years since I walked away from everything I knew to go work for MI6.
I approach the club at promptly eight as planned. The night air is cool on my exposed skin, but I don’t feel the chill due to the adrenaline pumping through my system. I’m sick in the head if this is what I crave, but it’s all I know. The bouncer tips his head, granting me entrance. I walk through and up the stairs to the private area where my target is sitting in a roped off section. He’s appraising all the women walking around, but I know what he likes. Not only have I studied him, I know him personally. I walk by him, ignoring his eyes, and head for the bar to order a drink I’ll barely sip. I move my body seductively to the song, curving my hips in ways that attract many men’s attention. A large hand lands on my shoulder, and it takes everything in me not to break it or drop them for touching me. I don’t like to be touched.
“Da?” I ask. My voice I’ve been told sounds like a phone sex operator. But the whiskey tone is barely heard over the loud, pumping music.
“Mr. Kalshnik khotel by pogovorit' s vami,” he says in Russian. Excellent. My target wants to talk to me.
“Da.” I tip my head and drop my eyes.
He leads me over to the roped off podium area. I step up and walk right to Kalshnik.
“Nadya?” He says my mama’s name and another slight tremor runs through my body. He thinks I’m her. The woman he “loved” until she betrayed him with his enemy. The woman he gang raped as revenge.
“Nyet.” I shake my head. “Irina.” I point at myself, giving him my alias.
“Nu davay zhe.” He directs me to follow him.
He leads me through the door into a private chamber where I knew he would bring me. I try not to inspect the room too much, though I’m aware there’s only one exit door. But I prepared for this. Kalshnik sits in a chair in the center of the room. Every night he picks one lucky girl to come in here with him. They think it’s a privilege to be picked out by a member of the government and Bratva. They dance for him and then he fucks them.
He won’t be fucking me though.
He won’t be fucking anyone ever again because tonight he dies.
“Poloska.” He orders me to strip.
I smile as I drop my eyes and tip my chin down. He likes them shy. I move my hips to the song playing in the room. “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails is perfect for what I have planned for him and what he thinks is going to happen. I lean forward and move my body like I know he likes. In the years I worked with him, I learned what turns him on. I make my way behind him. My hands land on his shoulders and I rub against the chair between us. I slip off my belly chain and flip it over his shoulder onto his chest. He eggs me on.
“Poloska.” He demands again.
I reach my free arm over his other shoulder, rubbing my breasts against the back of his head. I grab the other end of the belly chain and drag it up his body, and then pull it tight across his neck. He becomes aware of his predicament too late. He can’t call for his guards as I tug the chain tighter against his neck, choking the life out of him. I move my hands back and forth in a sawing motion. The fine teeth of the chain start to break through his skin, slicing into him.
I lean close to his ear and look across the room at the mirror. “Do svidanya, tovarishch,” Goodbye, comrade. His eyes flare wide as he realizes who I am. The smile widens on my lips as I push my foot into his back and yank with a sick pull, slicing into his neck, killing him. Blood sprays as I step back and admire my handiwork. I have ten minutes until his guard enters the room to bring us drinks and take his turn watching.
A laugh rips free from my body. The chuckle sounds evil to my ears. “Oh, dear Uncle, today I became what you created,” I say out loud. I’ve killed all his Brigadiers who partook in the rape and murder of my mama. Only one more man left and my revenge will be complete. The smile doesn’t leave my face as I continue to walk.
I enter my real hotel room. My cellular phone rings from my bag and I answer it.
“Anatonia?” A heavily accented Italian voice comes across the line. I don’t recognize it.
“Si,” I say in my native Italian.
“I’m Capo Morello. Your father was killed tonight in an attack on my family.”
The breath whooshes from my lungs and eyes that haven’t cried since I was young tear up.
“Who?” I ask, converting to English.
“Ivan Medvedev.” The name causes terrifying memories to flash behind my eyes. He’s the only man I haven’t killed yet.
“I’ll take care of him.”
“No, I need you to protect my family. Your father said you would.”
“Si.” I understand that my father’s dying wish was that I protect Capo and his family.
He waits for me to say the words I need to say to him. Words I never dreamed of saying. An oath that goes against everything I was raised to do. But I will do what my father wanted.
“I swear by my blood to protect you and your family.” I give him the vow.
He tells me their location, and for the second time in my life, I walk away from everything I know. The capo heir was gravely hurt, and I’ll help him heal so he can get his revenge, or I will do it myself. I was created to destroy the Morellos, but now I will protect them.
Chapter 1
Anatonia
Seven Years Later
United States
The heavy bag swings from the chain hanging from the ceiling. I jump and kick it again, sending it flying back. When it returns, I hit it hard with my gloved hands. I continue working out, releasing the stress that has built up in my system. The need to vent the pain every so often has been getting worse over the years. I no longer have to kill on a daily basis, so I don’t have the adrenaline to push back the memories.
I’m head of security for the Morello family. Personal bodyguard to the capo, and I keep a close eye on the future capo, Natale. This is my new destiny—protecting them and keeping them safe from my uncle and the Bratva. I’ve taught Natale a lot, but there are still some things I won’t let him do. That’s my job.
We are in hiding here in the U.S. I’m restless and can’t wait until we can move back to Italy. This is one of my rare days off. I don’t take many, but when I do, I come here and work out until my body succumbs to the pain I put it through. I stop the bag as my cell phone rings on the counter. I lift it up and see Natale’s name on the display.
“Si,” I answer.
“I need you, Ana. Meet me at the Mercy of Angels Hospital.” He doesn’t explain, but from his tone I know it’s bad.
“Capo?” I ask, needing to make sure he is safe.
“He is safe. They will be here soon.”
“I’ll be there shortly.” I hang up and head for the master suite to take a shower. The large bathroom is partially a wet room with a large soaking tub and walk-in shower with multiple rainfall heads. This is an oasis in an industrial building that I’ve fixed up over the years.
After a quick shower, I braid my hair down my back, keeping it out of the way, then I step into the attached walk-in closet. I slip on a black thong and bra, followed by black chino slacks. Based on Natale’s voice, I’m going to plan for the worst. I slip on a thin bulletproof vest, then a black silk tank top. Reaching for my black boots, I slip them on and then slide a knife into the attached holster. Next, I put on my double rig chest holster and a thigh holster. My black jacket covers it all, except for the exposed thigh holster. My special belt goes on last. The belt buckle doubles as a garrote and the holster at the back houses a couple throwing knives. Walking through to the bedroom, I open the gun safe and pull out my three .45 handguns. One goes in the thigh holster and the other two in the double rig. On my dresser sits my jewelry. I slip my mama’s cross over my head and my father’s wedding ring on my thumb. The only things I have left of them.
Stepping back, I look in the mirror. Without the thigh rig or the bulletproof vest, this is my normal look. I don’t need to make myself look sexier with makeup. At almost thirty-two, I don’t have the urge to make myself look different. This is who I am. I push up the sleeves of my jacket, exposing all the tattoos down my arms, my left side more tattooed than the right.
I call a soldier who is part of the security detail to come give me a ride to the hospital. I’ll ride back to the house with the family. When he texts that he’s close, I make my way out of the warehouse and past my car. My motorcycle is in the Morello’s garage. Locking and arming the building, I check my surroundings before climbing into the SUV. We make our way into Carson Hills toward the hospital. My warehouse is between Carson Hills and Wellport. Between the two classes.
Just like me.
I’m between two worlds.
When we pull up, the feeling of being watched washes over my skin. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I turn around and see a police car, but nothing else grabs my attention. My phone pings.
Nat: You here yet?
Me: Walking in now.
Nat: On my way.
I step through the doors into the main lobby and instantly security is eyeing me and the exposed gun strapped to my thigh. I smirk at him and lift an eyebrow. Maybe I can finish my workout by starting a fight.
“Ana.” Natale’s voice sounds tortured. I look up and see the man he is becoming. I stand at five foot seven and he’s taller than me. At nineteen, he’s wiry muscle, long dark hair, and tatted up. I nod and he gives the security guard a look. The guard steps back. But I wave my arms out at him, challenging him, and he drops his gaze.
“Figo,” I mumble.
“Really?” Natale shakes his head.
“He’s being a pussy not wanting to go up against a girl,” I say.
“Ana, I need your focus. I want you to guard my girl.”
I shake my head at his words. He’s been making a fuss the last couple days about a girl. But his girl?
“I read some of the background from Capo.” I must approve of everyone around the family, so I saw some of the report.
“Not like that. She needs you to protect her. It’s bad.” That’s all he says as we make our way down the hall. We walk past Domino, a city cop and an old friend from Sicily, as he talks to Capo. I nod at them and continue following Natale.
His name yelled from a raspy voice draws our attention. He takes off running and I’m right behind him, ready to defend and protect.
The small figure in the bed is covered in bruises, and the look of fear in her eyes calls to a part of me that I very rarely let out. I don’t focus on what is going on as they remove restraints from her wrists. The memories are too much. I just watch the poor girl. Posy Ivanov is a mirror of my past.
