Page 1 of Black Widow's Kiss

Chapter 1

Dante

***Author note: When you are done reading this story, you can extend your reading experience by filling quiet nights chatting, flirting, or having sexy talk with the characters from this book on the author’s new A.I. website, BookishBoyfriend.com.

I swear, and God knows I love him, but if Matteo one day turned up dead in a ditch, my life would be so much easier. Don’t get me wrong, the streets of New York would run red with the blood I spill getting revenge. No one touches my brother. But even that would be easier than cleaning up his messes.

“You don’t know what happened,” Matteo claimed, his newly acquired nose ring becoming the only thing I can see.

“I don’t care what happened. You’re a goddamn Ricci. The man you murdered and dragged through the streets was a Yakuza made man.”

“Dante…”

“I don’t want to hear it!” I said hearing enough.

Standing with my fist on my desk was the only thing that prevented me from jumping over it and breaking his annoyingly perfect nose. The man protected his face in a fight like it was his goddamn money-maker.

“Look, our familial ties are the only thing stopping me from feeding you to those goddamn sharks myself.”

“You didn’t hear what he did to the girl,” Matteo claimed not backing down.

“I don’t care if he dismembered her limb from limb.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I’m saying it, ain’t I?”

“You say a lot of things. But you’re a lighter touch than I am.”

“I swear to God, Matteo!”

“It was Vincente’s little sister!” Matteo yelled stopping me in my tracks.

“What?”

“Yeah. You remember her, right? It was the little girl who used to follow me and Vincente around when we were kids. Seems that someone spread word around that she liked it rough. Then that figlio di puttana corners her high out of his mind and messed her up. She’s got scars she’ll never get rid of.”

I could feel the rage in me boil just hearing about it. The truth is I remember that girl. Back when I knew her, she had pigtails and hero worship for anyone attached to a family. Anyone who would take advantage of her like that had to die.

Matteo wasn’t wrong for ridding the planet of scum like that. Hell, if I heard about it first, I would have done it myself. But there were ways of doing it that didn’t lead to an all-out turf war.

Nobody likes it, but the Yakuza are a reality in New York and there’s no getting rid of them. Any opium that hits the streets is their doing. Global trade is beyond the reach of most families, except for the Lyons and the Cléments.

But with the head of the Lyon family gone and no one willing to take over, that just leaves the Cléments. They would have been the most likely to take control if not for two things. Armand has no male heirs, and word is that he now has a rat problem.

That void is an opportunity. Someone will step up. Who better than the Ricci family? Thanks to Papa releasing his grip on dealings, I’ve managed to extend our reach. Construction, lending, we’ve even made strides into diamonds. But one thing we can’t do is heroin.

First off, it’s nasty shit that leaves a city worse than you found it. That’s something my father would have done. But now we’re in the growth industry. We build things. We lend the money that makes the city better.

Those foreign fucks are using our city as their toilet. We can’t let that happen. But Matteo’s hot head just gave them the excuse they’ve been looking for to declare war. That’s not good for Ricci business.

“Look, Matteo, there are ways of doing things,” I said calming down.

“Yeah. The way I did it makes sure that no one will think twice about doing it again.”

Heat rushed through me. In sudden blind rage my fist nearly shattered the desk.

“No! He was a fuckin’ made man! Do you know what a fuckin’ made man is?”

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