By Sin I Rise : Part One (Sins of the Fathers Book 1)

When I woke the next morning, I jerked up in bed, looking around. Maddox perched on the windowsill. His cheek dimpled upon meeting my eyes. “You survived, see?”

I cleared my throat and brushed down my hair, feeling vulnerable knowing Maddox had seen me sleep. It was a very personal thing, and one I’d never shared with anyone outside my family. The sun had only just risen, but Maddox looked as if he had been awake for a while.

“Why are you up?”

Maddox shrugged. “You took up too much space in bed.”

I tilted my head in consideration. It almost appeared as if Maddox felt uncomfortable with me in a bed. At least, I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t at ease. I got up and stretched. Maddox followed the movement. Maybe he was scared of his own desire. I needed to use this. As I strode over to him, under his unwavering attention, my courage slipped away. Like he had said, he wasn’t like Giovanni. Maddox wouldn’t hold back from fear of my father. He’d probably send him a detailed recount if we ever had sex.

A hot wave passed through my body at the thought.

I wrapped my arms around my chest as I stopped beside him, and the cold morning air hit me. My nipples hardened and I was acutely aware that Maddox could see it through the thin fabric of the T-shirt.

“I’ll be gone for runs most day but I’ll leave enough food and water, and keep the door locked.”

I nodded, following his gaze out over the horizon and marveling at how strange the situation was. In a blink, my life had been turned upside down and I had a feeling this was only the beginning.

I checked out Maddox’s profile, the sharp angles, then lingered on the scar that looked like a dimple. “How did you get that scar?”

Maddox touched the spot and smiled wryly. “When I was nine, I tried to set Earl’s dogs free on a fight night. A few of them managed to run off. He hit me with one of the spiked collars he uses on the dogs.”

“That’s horrible. But why did it heal so badly? The wound couldn’t have been that deep.”

“He said if I wanted to pick the dogs’ side, I’d be treated like one and their wounds always have to heal without treatment. He locked me in the cage for a couple of days too, so I know how it feels.”

My mouth fell open. “No wonder you’re so messed up.”

He laughed a deep, full belly-laugh. “That’s one reason, yes, but your old man still wins the prize of messing me up.”

I leaned against the wall, frowning. “But Earl was supposed to take care of you after your father died not scar you mentally and physically.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know why I even told you.”NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

“Because you don’t have anyone else, you trust enough to share it with.”

I spent all day sitting on the windowsill. At first, I’d been surprised that Maddox didn’t lock the window. But I soon figured out why escaping through the window, apart from the risk of jumping down from the second floor, wasn’t an option. I spotted guards patrolling a wire-fence, and one of them had a Rottweiler on a leash. He’d probably send the beast after me if I tried to run. Remembering Satan’s sharp teeth, I shuddered to think what they’d do to my flesh. Satan and I had made—at least temporary—peace but I wasn’t blind to the danger the dogs posed.

I searched the horizon for signs that Dad was on his way. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for exactly. He’d certainly try to keep his attack secret for as long as possible to surprise the bikers. I knew he was searching for me but being unable to contact him or anyone else from the family felt as if a part of me was ripped away. Even when I’d been away from home, I’d always had my phone with me to contact them whenever I pleased. Now I felt more alone than I ever had in my life.

Maddox came home after nightfall, looking disheveled and pissed.

“What happened?” I asked, sitting up in bed.

“Your father.”

He didn’t elaborate, only disappeared in the bathroom. I couldn’t help but smile.

Maddox came out ten minutes later and got into bed without another word, but he didn’t turn down the lights.

“I told you my father would stop at nothing to save me,” I said, not able to hold in my giddiness.

Maddox scoffed. “How did he brainwash you into being his biggest fan, despite all his faults? Whatever drug he gave you must be worth millions.”

“He’s my father, of course I believe in him. And the drug you’re looking for is love.” I cringed inwardly at how sappy that sounded, but it was true. Dad didn’t only spoil me with presents and money, he spoiled me with love and affection as well.

“I’m going to throw up.” Maddox twisted around, facing me fully. “Come on, be honest for a moment. You must realize what kind of man your father is. Don’t tell me you don’t care.”

“I know what kind of man he is. Everyone in my family is involved with the mafia. And your family members are outlaws so don’t tell me there’s much of a difference. You justify your actions with club loyalty and your cut, and the members of my family justify it with their oath and the loyalty to the tattoo on their chest.”

Maddox shook his head. “You defend the Famiglia even if they look down at you. I’ll be president of the club one day, but you’ll always only be the wife of a mobster. Your word won’t ever matter in the mafia. Still, you defend the cause. You don’t seem like a woman who likes to sit back and do nothing.”

“Who says I’m going to do nothing?”

“You can’t rule over the Famiglia like your father.”

“My brother will be Capo.”

“Aren’t you pissed that your brother will become the boss even though you are older?”

On occasion I’d imagined what I’d do if I became Capo, but I’d never really considered it a valid option. “Are women allowed in your club?”

“Of course, didn’t you see them?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not for fun, or pass-arounds. I mean as members.”

“No, it’s against the rules.”

“So if you had an older sister, she couldn’t get involved with the club?”

He frowned. “Okay, both the club and the mob don’t allow women. But you seem like a girl who’s used to getting what she wants. It must be hard to be in second place, and not even that. Your word will never mean anything in the Famiglia. If you marry some pompous Italian mobster, he’ll rise in rank in the Famiglia and you can raise his kids and give him blowies if he returns home from a hard day at work.”

“Blowies?” I repeated with a disgusted twist of my lips while heat traveled up my throat in a very embarrassing way.

Maddox used his tongue to tent his cheek in a very obvious way.

“That’s disgusting.”

“A blowy or my interpretation of it?”

“Both,” I muttered.

“Don’t tell me you never gave that poor asshole a blowy in two years of relationship. No wonder he always looked so pinched. I’d do too if I didn’t have a nice long blowy in years.”

“Stop saying that word,” I muttered. I’d never wanted to give Giovanni oral, and he would have never dreamed of asking me. He’d never even allowed me near his fly in our relationship. “This discussion is over.”

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?” Maddox asked, obviously enjoying himself.

He made me uncomfortable for various reasons, none of which I’d discuss with him, especially not while sharing a bed.

Flirt with him.

That had been the plan but following through was more difficult.

Maddox watched me and my palms became sweaty. My body had never reacted to someone’s presence like that. I made others nervous, not the other way around.

“Why would anyone pierce his genitals?” I blurted, wanting to break through the silence.

Maddox’s answering smile only made me feel hotter. “To receive more lust, and even more importantly, to give more lust.”

My mind went into overdrive. Maddox and I stared into each other’s eyes, then he shook his head with a chuckle and rolled over on his back. “Go to sleep before we both do something we might regret.”

“I doubt you’d regret me,” I said.

Maddox closed his eyes with a sardonic smile. “I wouldn’t.”

His confirmation stunned me. My eyes traced his chest, which wasn’t covered by the sheets.

“And you, would you regret me?” he asked eventually.

“Definitely,” I said. I didn’t even want to consider the social media shitstorm I’d be submitted to if word got out that I’d slept with a biker, even if it was to save me. In our circles, women were condemned in the blink of an eye. And my family? Dad would lose it.

Maddox nodded, his eyes still closed. “Yeah. You’d definitely regret me.”

Maddox

Marcella had spent the last three nights in my bed, and every night had been more torturous than the last. I felt her presence everywhere. When I lay awake beside her at night, and I hardly slept anymore, I was driven almost insane by her scent and by the images of her body replaying before my closed eyes.

I’d half hoped, half dreaded Marcella would make a move at me, even if only to save herself, but so far she’d held back. Despite her killer body, she wasn’t used to making advances on men. I wasn’t sure if it was due to her conservative upbringing or because she was used to men throwing themselves at her feet.

I had half a mind to do the same.

Some women dressed in expensive dresses and put on tons of makeup to look presentable, but Marcella in my clothes and no makeup was an apparition that put them all to shame.

“What are you thinking?” she asked out of the blue.

“Isn’t that a question you ask your fiancé when he spends the night?”

She shrugged. “Giovanni never spent the night.”

Douchy name for a douchebag, then my brain registered her words.

“Why?”

“We hold on to our old values,” Snow White said matter-of-factly. “And I live with my parents.”

I couldn’t stop staring at her blue eyes, glowing against the dark coal of her hair.

“Let me guess, your fiancé pissed his pants because of your ol’ man.”

She smirked. “Most people do.”

“Not me.”

“No,” she agreed in a soft voice. “Not you, Maddox.”

Fuck. I wished she’d stop saying my name in that gentle lilt. Yet, I’d never ask her because the moment the last syllable died on her lips, I longed to hear it again. She was like a drug I couldn’t resist, and I hadn’t even tried it yet. She’d be like crack, without a doubt. One taste and you’d be addicted, and ultimately, she’d ruin you.

“What’s your favorite childhood memory of your father?”

I hadn’t expected that question. No one had ever asked me something like that. I racked my brain, trying to come up with an answer. Most of my memories weren’t happy. My old man hadn’t been the best father, but he had been a father.

Images of my father fighting with my mom, or sitting on the couch with a beer, or not present at all flashed through my mind.

“He died before we could make many good memories,” I said. But deep down I knew that happy memories would have been few and far between even if Vitiello hadn’t killed him. But having a bad father was better than not having one at all.

“But you miss him?”

Most of all, I missed what could have been. I missed that we never got the chance to have a good relationship. I missed that my old man never got the chance to be a good dad. “Of course,” I said, but the words sounded hollow.

Marcella tilted her head so her hair fanned out like pitch on the pillow. “What about your mom?”

“She became my uncle’s old lady a few weeks after my old man got killed.”

That should answer her question. My mom never really missed my dad. She might have missed the position as the old lady of a prez if my uncle hadn’t immediately made her his.

I motioned at her. “Your turn.”

I still couldn’t get over the fact that Marcella Vitiello was lying in bed beside me, in my black T-shirt and my boxers, and talking to me as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You want me to tell you my favorite childhood memory? Are you sure you want to hear any stories about my dad?”

I sure as fuck didn’t want to imagine Luca Vitiello as a good dad. I wished Marcella’s memories of him were as bleak as mine of my dad, but I wasn’t a pussy. I could take the truth. “Go ahead.”

Marcella’s gaze became distant, then a soft smile curled her lips, one I’d never seen on her usually so controlled and cautious face before. “When I was seven, I had a phase when I was convinced monsters were in my walk-in closet and under my bed. I could hardly sleep. So Dad made sure to check every possible hiding place in my room every evening, and even when he came home late in the night after a difficult workday, he still snuck in my room and made sure I was safe. Once he’d checked the room, I knew the monsters were gone and I always fell asleep within minutes. But seconds before I drifted off, Dad would always kiss my forehead.”

I couldn’t imagine Luca Vitiello as Marcella described him, as the loving, caring father. He had been the monster that still haunted seven-year-old me. When I thought about him, I always saw the ax and knife wielding madman who slaughtered the people who were like my family. He was the man who’d been our enemy even before I had been born. This wasn’t a new feud, but it was one to last generations.

Marcella regarded me. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe that’s how you see him, but it doesn’t change my feelings toward him. Nothing can erase my hatred, nothing ever will.”

“Never say never.”

“You’ll rather learn to despise your ol’ man before I’ll forgive him, that’s a fact, Snow White.”

I cringed. This was the second time I called her by that name outside of my head.

Her eyebrows puckered and she regarded me as if she was trying to see right into my brain.

“Snow White?”

I shrugged and rolled over on my back, staring up at the ceiling. She kept watching me expectantly.

“Come on, don’t be surprised. I can’t believe no one’s ever called you Snow White before. Black hair, pearlescent skin, red lips.”

One dark brow twitched up, and I realized I was only digging myself a deeper grave with every word out of my stupid mouth. The ghost of a smile passed her lips, and it was all I could do not to pull her on top of me and kiss her.

Women have a certain place in motorcycle clubs, and it isn’t on equal footing with men. They were only supposed to speak when spoken to and had to please their man. I’d never just talked to a woman for more than the meaningless chitchat before and after sex, and if possible, I’d even avoided that. The only woman I’d ever shared a halfway decent conversation with was my mom, but in recent years, I’d closed off even around her.

I wasn’t sure what it was about Marcella that made me want to talk, or at least listen. She was sophisticated and chose her words carefully. I’d never talked to a woman who was even half as educated and intelligent as her. And sometimes I just enjoyed getting a reaction out of her. “What happened with your fiancé? Did he dump you for not putting out?”

Her lips thinned. “Girls like me don’t get dumped. I broke up with him.”

“So fucking arrogant. You think you’re a gift to men that no one would dump your perky ass?”

“Nobody would dump me because of my father,” she muttered.

I perked up at the bitter note in her voice. “Too scared of the old man, I get it. But why do you sound like this pisses you off? Don’t you enjoy the perks of being feared because of your scary daddy?”

“I’d rather be feared or rather respected for who I am.”

Her words surprised me, but I couldn’t hold back a snide comment. “People generally don’t respect or fear people for their extraordinary shopping skills.”

She narrowed her eyes. “There’s more to me than shopping. You don’t know me.”

“Then enlighten me, Snow White.”

“My life’s not a fairy tale, so stop calling me that.”

My grin widened at her obvious anger. “Pity, I’m sure the big bad wolf would love to eat you.”

A blush traveled up her throat and her cheeks, making her look even more like the fairy tale princess.

“I study marketing and I’m among the best.”

I couldn’t stop smirking.

She glowered. “I suppose you see yourself as the big bad wolf, Mad Dog?”

I would definitely love to eat her.

She shook her head and became very quiet. “It’s been over a week. When’s this going to be over?”

I hadn’t asked Earl again. He’d punished Vitiello with silence, hoping the asshole would die from worry over his daughter. And I didn’t mind having a few more days with Marcella.

My smile died. “Soon. When your old man is dead.”

She closed her eyes. “What would it take for you to give up your plan?”

“Don’t waste your time looking for a way to convince me. I won’t lie, my dreams are filled with images of your naked body on top of mine, but even that won’t change my mind, so don’t try to manipulate me with sex.”

“Nobody said anything about sex,” she murmured. Then she tilted her head curiously. “So you’d prefer if I didn’t try to seduce you?”

“I’ve been waiting every fucking night for you to finally try, but don’t do it for any other reason than because you want to.”

“As if you’d care why I’d make a move on you.”

I smirked. “I wouldn’t, as long as I ended up between your thighs. But I want to spare you the disappointment if you don’t get anything out of it except for dirty, amazing sex.”

“If sex is all I wanted, I could have slept with more sexy guys than I can count. There are few men who wouldn’t say yes to a night with me.”

Without a doubt…

“Maybe you didn’t choose one of them because all of those men cowered before your father. I’m the first guy that isn’t scared of him, and that, admit it or not, turns you on.”

She didn’t deny it, only looked at me in a way that sent a rush of desire through me.