The Mafia King’s Doll

Skylar

I can’t believe Dad’s gone.

Sitting in the living room, I stare at the live stream of the mansion.

Renzo’s men cleaned the foyer, and it’s hard to believe it’s been less than twenty-four hours since Dad and Louisa were killed.

Suddenly, the TV screen goes black, and it’s only then I notice Renzo as he sets the remote down on the coffee table.NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

Taking his phone from his pocket, he dials a number, and a moment later, he says, “Go to the mansion and remove the four cameras I planted. The one in the kitchen is by the vent. There’s another beneath the railing at the top of the stairs, one by the TV stand in the living room, and you’ll find the last one by the dressing table in the second bedroom on the left.”

When he ends the call, he looks at me with worry in his eyes.

Funnily enough, he doesn’t ask me how I’m holding up, but then again, it’s because he knows exactly how I feel.

It was probably worse for Renzo. A child expects their parents to die first, but Giulio was only twenty.

‘I want you to see what I saw when I found my brother.’

I remember what he said yesterday before he killed Enrique, and it brings fresh tears to my eyes.

I wet my lips with my tongue before I say, “Yesterday you said you found Giulio, and you mentioned before it was in an empty lot.”

He nods as he sits down on one of the other couches. Resting his forearms on his thighs, he glances at the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I got the call early that morning, probably around the same time you were in surgery,” he replies. He keeps his eyes trained on the window and continues, “He was in a mobile surgical unit. Bianca had already stitched him up, but his organs were in containers, ready to be transported.”

God. It was a million times worse for him. No wonder he lost his mind.

“The evening before he was killed, he was smiling and giving me shit before leaving to go to a nightclub, and the next time I saw him…”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. I get the picture.

Getting up, I walk to where he’s sitting and take a seat next to him. I lift his arm around my shoulders before I wrap both of mine around his waist and give him a hug.

He leans back against the couch and holds me tighter.

The elevator doors open, and Renzo keeps an arm around me as he glances over his shoulder.

“Hey,” I hear a familiar voice, then Dario walks into my line of vision. When I try to pull away, Renzo tightens his hold on me.

Dario’s eyes are filled with compassion as he looks at me. “I’m sorry about what happened.” He shakes his head, then asks, “How are you holding up?”

I don’t know how to answer his question because I have no idea how I’m doing. The pain comes in crushing waves.

“She’ll be okay,” Renzo answers on my behalf. “Things are a little tough right now.”

“It’s understandable.”

“Did you find anything in Spain?” Renzo asks.

Dario shakes his head. “Montes stayed a step ahead of me. What happened with the two men you caught.”

“The one was just a soldier, but the other was Valverde. He said Montes uses an alias to move between Spain, Peru, and Alaska. Gilberto Varela. He should be in Peru right now if what Valverde said was the truth.”

“I’ll check it out. Are they dead?”

Renzo just nods, then says, “Don’t go after the fucker alone again.

Something could’ve gone wrong.”

“I wanted to travel light,” Dario chuckles.

“Next time, I’ll go with you,” Renzo mutters. “Apparently, Montes only stays put for two weeks before he moves again. Keep that in mind.”

“I’ll watch all three countries just in case he switches things up.” “Thanks, brother.”

Dario’s eyes move between Renzo and me, then he says, “Something’s changed between the two of you.”

“Renzo doesn’t want to kill me anymore,” I answer.

Dario lets out a chuckle. “That’s good to hear.” He glances between us again. “Seems the saying is true, there’s a fine line between love and hate.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Renzo asks as he pulls his arm away from me and climbs to his feet.

“Yeah, but I can always spare some time for you.”

I get up, and without saying a word, I head up the stairs so the men can catch up without me.

I walk into my room and head straight for the sliding doors. Opening them, I step out on the balcony and glance up at the sky.

There’s a fine line between love and hate.

Is that what’s busy happening between Renzo and me? Are the lines blurring?

Renzo

When the Bentley comes to a stop at the cemetery, I open the door and climb out. Glancing at the line of cars as they pull up behind us, I walk around the back and open the other rear passenger door so Skylar can climb out.

“Stay next to me, amo,” I murmur before I head to the back of the hearse.

Everything feels eerily familiar as I open the rear doors and look at the black casket that holds Harlan Davies’ remains.

I glance at the other hearse holding Louisa’s casket and wait for my men to join me before I split them into two groups.

I take the lead with Harlan’s casket, and when we start to walk toward the grave, Skylar falls in beside me.

There’s no one else at the funeral. Just Skylar, me, and my men.

When I asked her why she didn’t want to invite anyone else, she said it was because there was no one.

She has no living relatives, and she didn’t want anyone from the business world to attend. After the funeral, a press release will be issued, saying her father passed away from a heart attack.

I’ve taken care of the death certificate, and the coroner on our payroll filed the cause of death as a heart attack, so no one will question the story Skylar tells the press.

So it’s just us. A group of criminals and Skylar.

We position Harlan’s casket over the grave, and I watch as my men gently set the other casket down. Skylar wanted Louisa close to her parents’ graves.

My men move back to keep an eye on the surrounding area while Skylar says goodbyes to her father and Louisa.

My gaze settles on the headstone next to the open grave.

Sadie Davies.

Hoping it will make Skylar feel better, I say, “Your dad’s been reunited with your mom. Try to think of them happily together again.”

She nods, her face way too fucking pale.

The past few days, she’s been through a rollercoaster of emotions, and I pray to God the funerals will give her some closure.

There’s no priest to say any final words because the Davies family wasn’t religious. It’s something I learned about Skylar when I asked her whether I should arrange for Father Parisi to attend.

Feeling someone has to say something, I clear my throat and murmur, “Harlan Davies was a good man. I’ve never seen a father love his daughter the way he loved you, Skylar. I respect the lengths he was willing to go through to keep you alive.”

A soft sob comes from Skylar, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “If you can hear me, Harlan, know I’ll keep her safe. I’ll give her the life you wanted for her.” I have to clear my throat again before I say, “I’m

sorry we couldn’t part on better terms.”

Silence falls over us, and minutes pass before Skylar walks closer to the grave. She kisses the tips of her fingers and presses her hand to the casket.

“You were the most amazing father, and every day will be less colorful with you gone, Daddy.” She has to pause as her voice threatens to disappear. “It was such an…honor to be your daughter.”

Sobs overwhelm her, and my fucking eyes begin to burn from hearing her heartbroken words.

It takes a moment before she’s able to speak again. “I’ll miss you so much. Say hi to Mom for me.”

When she turns around and walks back to me, I take hold of her arm and pull her against my chest. Engulfing her with my body, my eyes rest on Harlan’s casket, and I nod so they’ll lower it.

I press a kiss to her forehead before I lead her to Louisa’s grave a few feet away.

“What about her family?” I only think to ask now after the crazy few days we’ve had.

“We were her family,” Skylar murmurs.

She stops in front of the grave and stares at Louisa’s final resting place, then says, “Thank you for being a second mother to me, Louisa. I’m sorry you died because of me.”

Hearing the guilt in her voice pours ice through my body. Grabbing Skylar by her shoulder, I turn her so she’ll face me, and leaning down, I meet her eyes.

“You are not responsible for anyone’s death. Do you hear me?” She shakes her head, her face threatening to crumble.

“Giulio died because he was O-negative. Your father and Louisa died because I put pressure on the fuckers. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.” I lean even closer so I have her full attention. “Lay it all on me, amo, but don’t for one second blame yourself.”

“If I hadn’t needed a kidney –”

I shake her lightly, stopping her sentence dead in its tracks before moving my hands to the sides of her neck.

“You had no choice in the matter. Everything that’s happened is because of decisions made by your father and me.”

When she just stares at me, I demand, “Do you understand?” She nods before pulling away from me.

As I follow her back to where the Bentley’s parked, I let out a deep breath.

How the fuck am I going to undo all the trauma Skylar’s suffered because of Harlan and me.

Mostly me.

For the first time since I’ve fallen head-over-fucking-heels for Skylar, fear creeps into my heart.

Before this moment, I would’ve taken Skylar any way I could have her, but now I want her love.

I want her to want me, and I’m not sure that will happen.

We climb into the back of the car, and I let out a sigh, my mind racing to come up with a way to win her love.

Fabrizio steers the car toward the cemetery gates as Skylar looks out the window to where her parents’ and Louisa’s graves are.

I notice her hands are fisted on her lap, and reaching for one of them, I pry her fingers open before weaving mine through hers.

Lifting our joined hands, I press a kiss to her knuckles.

The only plan I can come up with is showing her everything I have to offer.

I’ll love her so fucking hard she’ll have no choice but to love me back.

Turning my head, my eyes settle on her face, and I stare at her until she glances at me and asks, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

It’s not the time or place, but there’s no stopping the words. “I love you.”

Her lips part and surprise fills her eyes.

Shaking my head, I add, “Don’t say anything back. I just want you to know you’re loved.”

She sucks in a deep breath, then giving my hand a squeeze, she leans her head against my shoulder.

I press my mouth to her hair and close my eyes.