Misled: A Bad Boy Mafia Romantic Suspense Read online

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 BY PENELOPE MARSHALL & TIA LEWIS

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED, SCANNED, OR DISTRIBUTED IN ANY PRINTED OR ELECTRONIC FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. PLEASE DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN OR ENCOURAGE PIRACY OF COPYRIGHTED MATERIALS IN VIOLATION OF THE AUTHOR'S RIGHTS. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES AND INCIDENTS EITHER ARE THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR'S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY, AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO LOCALES, EVENTS, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, OR ACTUAL PERSONS – LIVING OR DEAD – IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

  MISLED

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  PRISONER

  REFUGE

  CHASE

  ACROSS TOWN

  BUNKER

  BEAR WITNESS

  PURE EVIL

  SAFE HOUSE

  LAY WITH ME

  IT'S A NEW DAY

  MISLED

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT PENELOPE

  ABOUT TIA

  ALSO BY PENELOPE

  ALSO BY TIA

  MISLED

  Mixing business with pleasure was not my usual MO as a bounty hunter—until her. She was scared and alone, running from the very man who'd hired me to hunt her down. I knew what he'd do if I turned her over—she wasn't going to make it out alive. Common sense told me to look the other way. After all, no one f*cked with the Sabella crime family—until now.

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  Dedication

  To my family for their unwavering support.

  Though we cannot bear to witness the withering of our flesh—the scars we've gained from each passing day consoles our fear of death.

  Acknowledgements

  We'd like to thank everyone who helped make this book possible:

  Vicki and Kelsey…xoxo!!!

  Charity, what would we do without you?

  PROLOGUE

  He slowly paced the desk, tapping his finger along the edge as he went. My eyes darted to each corner of the room, wishing I was somewhere else—anywhere else. I didn't want to be there, especially when he started yelling at me for what I'd done.

  He stopped pacing, and said in a low voice, "Tell me what I wanna hear."

  I held in a breath, knowing the consequences of admitting my mistake.

  PRISONER

  ISAIAH

  The worst thing I'd ever experienced wasn't watching my best friend die in my arms, or spending fourteen days as a prisoner of war in some god awful hole in the middle of the Afghani desert. The worst thing I'd ever experienced was being dishonorably discharged from the military because I chose not to participate in some bullshit op that would have inevitably started another war.

  I couldn't have the blood of so many innocent women and children on my conscience—not for all the money in the world.

  So I came home to a country which had turned her back on me. I had nothing. No money—no retirement—nothing. Half my friends were dead, and the other half pretended I didn't exist. Shit, there were times I wish I didn't exist. But I had to work, and the only job a guy like me could get with my specific set of skills was of the lowdown, dirty sort; which is how I found myself working for Salvatore, the head of the Sabella crime family.

  I was a freelance bounty hunter, but Salvatore kept me so busy retrieving his enemies for him, I didn't have time to take on many other clients. Some would say I was his personal muscle, but I was a little more than that. He confided in me the things a man in his position should only speak of behind closed doors. I knew of every indiscretion, and every underhanded deal he made with the local thugs who thought they ran the streets. That's what Salvatore wanted them to think. He was shrewd and business savvy, but that motherfucker could snap in a minute.

  I'd seen him cut throats with a letter opener, and stab traitors in the eye with a pencil. There was no end to his cruelty, but I had to look the other way. Rent didn't want to hear how my morals kept a paycheck out of the bank. I'd done that once, and it turned out like shit for me. So, I did what I was told, and I did a fantastic fucking job—until she ran away and I was sent to retrieve her.

  It was a normal Wednesday morning—nothing different whatsoever. The crisp air whipped around me as I stepped out of my apartment, sending chills up my spine. I took the last sip of my coffee before setting my cup down on the cracked concrete step in front of my door. Salvatore had called earlier and needed me to retrieve someone, but he wouldn't say who over the phone.

  Sliding into my car, I took a deep breath before turning the key in the ignition. It was a long drive to get from my side of town to the clean streets and manicured lawns of the affluent Hyde Park, and I needed to get the information on the target before he got too much of a head start on me.

  I pulled out from my spot and headed off down the street to get the information from Salvatore. The streets were pretty dead for a weekday, but I didn't think anything of it. What did I know about ominous signs? How could I have predicted—that today of all days, fate would decide to step in and cause my world to crumble down around me.

  Pulling around the arched cobblestone driveway of Salvatore's gray, brick mansion, I noticed the flurry of muscle-bound men draped in thousand dollar suits, moving about the premises.

  I sat up in my seat and leaned in. "What the fuck is going on here?"

  The scene reminded me of the hours right before a black op, but this was no military compound, and these men weren't highly trained assassins. Whoever the fuck they were after was in for a world of hurt. I almost felt sorry for the son of a bitch.

  I parked next to a black Land Rover, pulling my .380 out from underneath my seat before heading in. Walking in through the front door, I was greeted by a set of assholes, blocking my path to Salvatore's office.

  "I'm here for Salvatore."

  "He didn't tell us you were coming," one of the gorillas chimed in.

  "I don't care what the hell he told you. I'm here upon his request, so step the fuck outta the way before I make you," I growled.

  One chuckled. "Make us?"

  Clenching my fists, I took a step forward, ready to plant one right on his smug face. Luckily, his jawbone was saved by Salvatore entering the room.

  "Let him through. I called him. But you know the rules, Isaiah, leave your phone on the side table."

  Begrudgingly, they stepped aside, allowing me into the hall where I set my phone on the side table before walking over to Salvatore. "Thanks. I didn't want to have to break something this early."

  He chuckled. "Replaceable. I can always buy more."

  "Not the furniture, I meant your men."

  "Yeah, me too."

  I shook my head at his callousness. "So, who do you need me to bring back?"

  He laid his hand on my shoulder and led me into his office where two men I'd never met before were already waiting. After closing the door, he motioned for me to have a seat as he moved around to the leather seat behind his desk.

  "This needs to stay between us."

  "Always."

  He glanced over his shoulder to the window overlooking the driveway. "The men outside, they aren't to know any of this. I'm bringing you in."

  I nodded, glancing over at the two men, wondering what their stake in this meeting was.

  "Cane's been killed."

  My gaze shot back from the two men. "What the fuck?"

  "They found him this morning in back yard with his
own knife stuck in his stomach."

  "Suspects?"

  "I know who did it, but I wanna take care of it myself. It's the worst kind of betrayal—the kind from inside."

  The curiosity was killing me. "Who?"

  "Mellissa."

  I sat back after hearing he'd just accused his own sister of murdering his Capo. Rubbing the scruff on my jaw, I contemplated having to bring her in. She didn't seem like the murderous type, and I'd met some black widows in my day.

  "Are you sure, Salvatore?"

  "Please, I've asked you to call me Sal many times. Salvatore was my father, and it hurts whenever I hear his name mentioned. His abrupt departure was hard on everyone—especially my mother. She was never the same after that."

  "Okay, Sal, are you sure about this?"

  "Sure as the fucking day is long."

  I shook my head.

  "I need you to bring her in so I can take care of this in-house."

  "Why won't you tell the others who you suspect?"

  "Don't you think having my own sister kill my Capo makes me look weak? Like I can't even set my own house straight?"

  His theory held some weight, but how could he know she was going to kill Cane?

  "What are you going to do to her when I bring her back?"

  "Does it matter? She betrayed me. She's dead to me, and soon she'll be dead to the world as well."

  What could I say? It was his house, his rules, and his dime. I just did what I was told. I stood from my seat and held out my hand to shake his.

  He shook my hand then pulled me in, wrapping his arm around me. "This is between me, you, and these two assholes, you hear?" he whispered in my ear.

  Pulling away, I nodded. "I understand."

  He smiled and clasped his hands together. "Okay then, let me know when you've caught the bitch."

  The crazed look in his eye was almost disturbing—even for me.

  Crazy, motherfucker.

  I spun around and headed for the door, but before I could wrap my fingers around the silver pewter doorknob, he said, "48 hours. I want her in this fucking office in 48 hours."

  Fuck! Does he want the fucking tooth fairy, too?

  "48 hours, got it." I pulled the door open and closed it behind me, passing the two assholes from the front door in the hallway.

  One glared at me as he handed me my phone, egging me on into a fight, but I didn't have time to smash him into the ground. I had a package to retrieve, and I never reneged on a job. I made it to my car without incident and took off toward Sloane's house. He was my go-to guy when I needed something of the hacker variety done.

  I pulled out my phone and texted him I was on my way. Sloane liked his privacy and didn't appreciate unannounced drop-ins.

  Whipping around a few streets, I found myself in front of his house. Sloane made a killing off the stock market, but it was his computer prowess that made him the real money. He'd asked if I wanted cash deposited in my account a few times, but I always declined. Nothing in life was ever free, and I didn't want to owe anyone, especially someone who could erase my life with a click of a button.

  I found Sloane standing at the door with his usual 3-piece suit, gray today, sipping on a cup of coffee.

  "What do you need today, my friend?" he asked, toasting the cup in the air.

  "I need you to track a phone."

  "That's it? I thought you were gonna challenge me." He winked as he took another sip of coffee.

  "Nope, simple. This girl's not exactly what I would call a criminal mastermind—more like Sak's Fifth meets Tiffany's."

  He stepped to the side to let me in. "Sounds like my kinda girl."

  "Every girl sounds like your kind of girl," I said, just as a sultry, brown haired, olive skinned bombshell walked out from the kitchen, wearing one of Sloane's buttoned up shirts.

  "Shhh."

  I shook my head as he brushed by me with his hand in his pocket, sipping on his coffee. He stopped right in front of the woman, who kissed him on the cheek before disappearing back into the kitchen. This guy had the life.

  He glanced over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"

  Nodding, I followed him down the hall, catching sight of the woman sitting on the counter as I passed the kitchen door. Her legs, long and slender, dangled off the edge as she took a sip from a black mug.

  Sloane stood at his office door, waiting for me to walk in. I made it into the darkened room which only boasted one small window for light. Taking a seat in a leather chair situated in front of a massive computer—the size of the 72" flat screen sitting in my living room.

  "Do you really need it this big?"

  "It needs to match everything else I have."

  "I hope you're talking about this house?"

  "Yeah, let's go with that answer." He chuckled as he sat in the chair next to me, setting down his cup on the glass desk which extended from wall to wall. "So, who is this girl? You wanna go on a date with her?"

  "Far from it. I need to drag her back to Sabella."

  "Fuck, what'd she do?"

  "Better you don't know."

  "Yeah, it seems so. What's her number?"

  "619-555-1515."

  He typed in the numbers as I spit them out, his screen automatically responding with popup after popup of some type of computer jargon that made no sense to me.

  "Got her."

  "Already?"

  "She never turned off her phone."

  "Where is she?"

  "What the fuck?"

  I leaned in. "What?"

  "She's at your fucking apartment."

  "What the fuck is she doing there?"

  "You tell me. But I know if Sabella finds out, your ass is gonna be the next one being hunted down."

  I slammed my palm on the glass. "Fuck!"

  "Hey now, don't take it out on the furniture."

  Standing from my seat, I flew out the door headed straight for my car.

  "You're welcome," he yelled from behind.

  Needing to get to my apartment, I didn't have time for the niceties of a thank you. I hopped into my car and screeched out of his driveway, leaving a plume of burning rubber and tire marks on his unblemished concrete.

  REFUGE

  MELLISSA

  I sat quietly on Isaiah's brown, leather couch, looking over the small apartment. It definitely needed a woman's touch, as all he had was the couch and a small television stand, working valiantly to prop up a massive flat screen. Thankfully, he had a charger plugged in next to the couch which fit my phone perfectly. The damn thing died on my way to the apartment, so I couldn't use the map app. Trying to find an apartment I'd only been to once, in the middle of the night proved to be an arduous task.

  The décor and neighborhood were not something I was used to, having grown up with a silver spoon in my mouth, but it was my only refuge from Sal. I knew Isaiah was a good man, just from the few times I'd met him in the past, and I knew he'd hear me out where no one else would. The family was too loyal to Sal to go against him—even for his only sister.

  A chill rolled up my arms and over the back of my neck as I waited in the cold room, wishing I could rewind the last twenty-four hours, but there was nothing I could do.

  The sound of screeching tires filtered through the old window panes, followed by the sound of a car door slamming. I prayed it was Isaiah, but honestly, I didn't even know if he was in town.

  The doorknob began to jiggle as the deadbolt rotated to the unlocked position. I pushed myself up from the couch before lodging my hair behind my ears. It'd been a long night trying to find my way across town without being caught, and I was sure I looked far from presentable. My father would've been appalled by how I appeared, but under the circumstances, I'm sure he would've forgiven me this one time.

  The door flung open, but to my surprise, it wasn't Isaiah stepping out from behind it. My eyes widened when I realized who it was.

  "Chriss, what are you doing here?"

  "You know."

  My he
art began to race wildly inside my chest. He was standing in front of the doorway, and I surely wasn't strong enough to get by him.

  "How'd you find me?"

  "We have our ways." He stepped toward me, pulling out the gun from his shoulder holster. "Sal's gonna be happy I found you."

  I inched back. "Happy to kill me?"

  "Whatever the boss wants."

  "You know me, Chriss. Don't do this," I cried—the lump in my throat growing by the second.

  "Yeah, and I know the boss. I follow his orders, or I'm just as dead as you," he said, wrapping his fingers around my arm.

  I grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his hand off me, but it was no use. "Stop. Let me go, Chriss. Fuck!"

  "Stop fighting with—"

  Suddenly, his eyes widened, and jaw slacked as his grip on my arm loosened. Without warning, he fell to the beige carpeting like a ton of bricks. Standing behind him was Isaiah—his fists clenched—eyes narrowed.

  I'd always admired his subdued smile, but at the moment, his strong jawline took center stage. He was my hero, and the fact that he was as ruggedly handsome as he was, only helped to fan the slight lust I'd harbored for him the past few years. The churning in my stomach subsided, and I finally felt a certain modicum of safety wash over me.

  "He was going to take me back to Sal," I said, looking down at Chriss's limp body. "What did you do to him?"

  "Never underestimate the subtle power of a kidney punch."

  "How did he know I was here?"

  "The same way I did—you left your phone on."

  ISAIAH

  I slid my foot under the man's shoulder and kicked him over onto his back. "This is the asshole from Sal's office."

  "That's Chriss. He deals with the business on the East Coast."

  I shook my head. "What the fuck's he doing here," I murmured, wondering why Sal would send someone else to look for Mellissa when he'd already sent me? He apparently knew to track her phone. So, what was the point involving me?