Controlled by the Mob Read online

  Detroit Mafia Romance Book 5

  Controlled by the Mob

  by

  Tami Lund

  Cover Artist: Rebekah Ganiere

  Editor: Julie Sturgeon

  Published by: Tami Lund

  Copyright: 2021 by Tami Lund

  License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer.

  Thank you for your support.

  All entities, locations, businesses, etc. in this book are strictly figments of the author’s overactive imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Questions, comments, or desires to seek permission to use any part of this book for your own purposes should be directed to [email protected].

  CONTROLLED BY THE MOB

  Detroit Mafia Book 5

  Shannon Williams, aka Serendipity, is finally free from the mob family who held her prisoner since she turned nineteen.

  Now she’s forging her own path, leaving that world behind. Along the way she meets Leo Beneventi, a man who works in the hotel industry.

  Or so she believed.

  But Shannon is about to find out that when the mob has you under their control, they never let you go.

  Detroit Mafia series, in reading order:

  Paid by the Mob (available exclusively as part of the Detroit Mafia Series Box Set, Books 1-3)

  Trapped by the Mob

  Freed from the Mob

  Born into the Mob

  Controlled by the Mob

  Chapter One

  With a scarf covering her bleached blond hair and oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, Serendipity lurked in the space between the drinking fountain and the door to the ladies’ restroom, watching Luca Russo and his lady love, Nina Sarvilli. They stood maybe fifty feet away, with Luca’s cousin, Marco, and some other woman who had a petrified look on her face and clung to Nina like she was a lifeline.

  Luca, Marco, and Nina were all trying to pretend like they were calm, cool, and collected, while their collective gazes darted every which way, like wild animals caught in a trap.

  Accurate.

  An announcement about a flight boarding and a reminder not to leave your luggage unattended burst from the PA system, while waves of people flowed this way and that, trying to get from one place to another, as quickly as possible.

  Nina separated from the group and made her way to the restroom, and Serendipity ducked her head and pretended to be engrossed with her blank phone screen. She counted to four and then followed. Finally, Nina was giving her the opportunity to do what she’d been mulling over since last night, when Davit had kidnapped Nina and locked her in that windowless room in the basement of the house that had once belonged to Davit’s parents.

  Serendipity abhorred that room. Hell, she hated the whole damn house. The whole freaking family.

  Nina didn’t enter one of the stalls, instead veering to a sink, leaning over, and splashing water on her face. After a few seconds, she reached blindly for a paper towel, Serendipity slipped the scarf off her head and the glasses off her face and hurried over to pull a bit of rough, brown paper out of the automatic machine and hand it to her.

  “Thank you,” Nina said, blotting wetness from her face.

  “Any time,” Serendipity replied.

  Nina’s body went rigid.

  “Go ahead, open your eyes.”

  Slowly, she did as she was told, gazing into the mirror, taking in Serendipity’s hair, slicked back into a bun—the paleness a sharp contrast to her dark, manicured brows—the heavy makeup, her stiletto heels, and insanely short and tight red dress. She was mildly surprised that Nina hadn’t recognized her standing outside the bathroom in this getup Davit had picked out.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d selected her own outfit. Or hair color. Those Grigoryan men had total control down to an art.

  Stylish, with an edge of slut.

  “Serendipity,” Nina said and then cast a furtive glance over her shoulder.

  Serendipity shook her head. “Only exit is behind me.”

  Nina opened her mouth.

  “Don’t scream,” Serendipity said. “Trust me. That is not how you want this to go down.”

  Nina sighed, her shoulders slumping. “So how do I want this to go down?”

  Smart little mafia princess. If only Serendipity had been so smart once upon a time. Then again, she hadn’t ever been offered a chance to escape.

  Until now.

  “You want to get the hell out of Detroit and disappear, forever this time.” She paused, watched as Nina tried to process those words. “And making a scene at an airport is not going to get you there.”

  “But doing what you say will?”

  “Possibly.”

  Nina straightened, then cocked her hip and crossed her arms, mimicking Serendipity’s posture. “How do you figure?”

  This was it. All or nothing. Serendipity either needed to be completely honest—for the first time in her adult life—or she needed to walk away now, return to the life she loathed, and forget all about this pipe dream that had suddenly taken root in her head and left her sleepless last night while Davit snored away next to her.

  She sucked in a deep breath, paused, and then exhaled slowly.

  She would change the trajectory of Nina’s life.

  And, hopefully, her own.

  “Davit is out there right now, waiting to pounce. Before you reach that security line, he plans to confront you, and do it very loudly. In front of all the security cameras and all the cell phones that the gathering crowd will have set on record, he plans to out you as Nina Sarvilli.”

  Gino Sarvilli’s daughter. The little girl who infamously disappeared seventeen years prior, along with her mother, her uncle, and all of the Italian mob boss’s money.

  Nina shook her head. “If he does that, the only way I’ll be able to hide is if I have plastic surgery and move to a desert island somewhere.”

  “That’s the plan.” Davit was far more intelligent than most people gave him credit for. Not Serendipity. She was fully aware, which was why she hadn’t ever considered escaping.

  Until now.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Nina asked.

  “Let’s just say you inspire me.”

  Nina cocked an eyebrow.

  Serendipity sighed. “I want out. I’m sick of fucking Davit, sick of helping with all his petty little plans. I want to get the hell away from his entire family.”

  She shuddered. She could tell Nina noticed, but the other woman did not ask questions. Good, because Serendipity wasn’t about to answer them. Her goodwill only went so far. And telling a former Italian mafia princess about her long and complicated relationship with the Armenian mob was way too far.

  “You escaped,” Serendipity continued. “You were stupid to come back, but the point is, you escaped in the first place. I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time, but I was afraid. And then I met you, and once we figured out who you were, I kept thinking, if a six-year-old kid can do it, why can’t I?”

  “You’re the queen of combined insults and compliments, you know that?”

  Serendipity pretended to inspect her nails. And waited.

  It didn’t take long for Nina to realize she was trapped. She, too, was a smart one, although returning to Detroit seventeen years after she escaped the first time really was reckless as hell.

  Gritting her teeth, Nina said, “What do I have to do?”

  “That’s a good girl,” Serendipity said with a
smile she knew did not reach her eyes. She hadn’t smiled genuinely in years. Probably a decade. Certainly not since she became intimately tied to the Grigoryan family.

  An elderly woman shuffled over to a nearby sink. A young lady clutching the hand of a child with a pained look on his face, grasping his own groin, rushed straight for the nearest stall.

  Serendipity lowered her voice and leaned closer to Nina, who she could tell was holding her breath.

  “When you walk out of here, there is an exit almost immediately to your left. You need to get yourselves lost in a crowd and get out of this airport. Hail a cab or go down to the shuttles or whatever you need to do, but you need to leave this airport. If I were you, I would not fly to wherever you came from. You need to drive, and not a rental car in your own name. I’m sure Luca is planning to go with you.”

  Nina gasped and her eyes widened. Did she really have no idea how hard the man had fallen for her? Serendipity had known that first night Nina had walked into the strip club. Luca had zoned in on her as if she wore a homing device.

  “Anyway, get out of Detroit in a way that leaves no trail. Electronic or paper. No way to track you. And this time, stay the hell away. For good.”

  “What about you?” Nina asked, taking Serendipity by surprise. Everyone insisted they loved her, from her parents to the Grigoryan patriarch down to Davit, but Serendipity knew better.

  No one could love her. They could only ever control her, use her for their own gain. All they actually cared about was themselves.

  “I’ve survived this long. I know how to take care of myself.”

  Nina reached out and squeezed Serendipity’s bicep. “Thank you.”

  Serendipity turned away from the mirror, breaking eye contact. “Just go. Hurry up. I’m ready to get the hell out of here too.”

  She listened to her own heart, beating like a drum, for several long seconds, then Nina abruptly fled. Serendipity looked into the mirror and pulled up her scarf, securing it around her hair and ensuring not a single strand could be seen. She placed the glasses back onto her face, sucked in another fortifying breath, and left the restroom.

  Calm. Cool. Collected.

  Ready to start her life over.

  Mob free.

  Chapter Two

  One Year Later

  Her latest client walked her to the door of his hotel room and paused to tuck an extra cash tip into the cleavage spilling out of her severely low-cut dress.

  “Thank you, Star. That was probably the best time I’ve ever had in my life. I’m in Chicago at least once a month for business. Can I reach out again next time I’m here?”

  Shannon Williams kept her smile schooled, refusing to let her lips curl into a smirk. God, she hated the name Star. It was worse even than Serendipity, but her fear of anyone discovering who she really was overrode that dislike. Besides, Star was the perfect name for a stripper-turned-escort.

  “I’d like that,” she assured the man, which he probably thought meant she’d had a good time too. All she saw were dollar signs. Shannon, long before she’d become Serendipity and then Star, had become an expert at faking it.

  He held open the door and she stepped out into the hall, where he thanked her again, profusely.

  How considerate.

  Financially, being an escort was certainly a step up from stripping, although in truth, it had never occurred to her that she’d excel at either profession. Once upon a time, she had been a socialite, living in the lap of luxury. She had expected to marry well, and if she so desired, never work a day in her life.

  That was before the Grigoryans took control of her life. Before Davit claimed her as his lover and then his pawn.

  He’d wanted to take over Luca Russo’s strip club. So he put her on the inside to feed him information, to help him figure out a way to get his hands on the club despite it being the Italian mafia’s favorite hangout. Or, more likely, because of that.

  Davit had a long history of taking things simply because they belonged to someone else.

  Shannon herself was a perfect example.

  She shook her head. That part of her life was over. In the past, where it belonged, forever.

  No one controlled her destiny anymore. No one but her.

  Never again would she let someone else’s desires interfere with her own.

  And so long as clients like Bill Baxter kept calling, it would be only a few more years before she could retire well and truly control her destiny. As soon as she had enough to pay cash for it, she was going to buy herself a quaint little bed and breakfast and be done with this lifestyle once and for all.

  She couldn’t wait. The minute she signed the papers and took over ownership, she was burning every single pair of stiletto heels and slinky dresses in her closet. Yoga pants and flip-flops forever after that.

  Tugging the folded bills from between her sequined dress and bare flesh, she slipped them into the tiny clutch that also contained her phone, a sharp as hell knife, a handful of condoms, and lipstick. The phone vibrated as she pulled the zipper closed. Mr. Baxter had already left a rating on her website. She didn’t need to look to know it was five stars.

  The poor guy had apparently never had a decent blowjob in his life. Until now, anyway.

  Shannon exited the hotel and strutted down the street, her quick stride eating up the few blocks to her apartment. She lived on the fifth floor of a multi-use complex right in the heart of downtown, which was perfect because she could walk to pretty much anywhere she needed to be. Plus, the CVS on the ground floor kept her stocked in condoms and Sour Patch Kids.

  As soon as she stepped in the door, she kicked off her heels and stripped out of her dress. With all the lights off, no one could see her naked body anyway, even though there weren’t blinds on any of the windows.

  Having spent a period of time locked in a basement with no windows, she had a healthy appreciation for sunlight—and moonlight, as it were.

  She went to the kitchen, poured herself a Tito’s and freshly squeezed grapefruit juice, and took it into the shower with her, where she proceeded to wash away the remnants of Bill Baxter’s touch.

  Not that he’d been a terrible customer or even a bad lay. On the contrary, he had been incredibly considerate, had put forth great effort to attempt to make her orgasm, even though the terms of their contract explicitly stated it was for his pleasure only. She’d finally faked it so he wouldn’t feel let down, because honestly, it wasn’t him, it was her.

  Sex was business, not pleasure. She hadn’t had sex for pleasure in so long she couldn’t even remember.

  Okay, yes, she could. Still, it had been a long time ago. In truth, in hindsight, it hadn’t been the experience she knew it was supposed to be.

  Even her first few times, while technically not business transactions, there had been an ulterior motive, at least for him. She had been a pawn, an infatuation. Yes, she’d once believed that what happened was love—on both sides—but she knew better now. If nothing else, she was wiser for what she’d experienced.

  After her shower, she wrapped her freshly loofa-ed and lotioned body in a silky robe, sat at the island in the kitchen, and opened her laptop, pulling up her business website, Star’s Escort Service.

  No point in sugarcoating it. Being straightforward helped to weed out people who might accidentally stumble upon her website and made it easy for those who were looking for exactly what she offered.

  She charged exuberant rates for her services, partially because she figured she was worth it but also to cover the costs of the ridiculously expensive company she used to vet every single client before she accepted their business. She’d learned the hard way that one could never be too careful.

  Her calendar was normally quite full; however, tonight was her last booking for the next five days. It was deliberate. Tomorrow morning, she was picking up a rental car and heading up the coast to Traverse City, Michigan, where she planned to stay at a bed and breakfast she had her eye on as a potential retireme
nt business. Not that the owners had expressed any interest in selling, and, honestly, this place was a tad too close, geographically, to her past, so this wasn’t a true scouting expedition. More of a daydreaming trip disguised as a vacation.

  She ought to try to get some sleep, as she was scheduled to be at the rental car facility at eight, and it was already after 2:00 a.m. The problem was, Shannon dreaded trying to fall asleep, especially on nights after she’d been with a client.

  The nightmares were always worse on those nights.

  Although maybe, this time, it wouldn’t be so bad. Bill Baxter had simply been lonely and socially inept and desperate for a little action that did not involve his own hand wrapped around his cock.

  She finished her drink and chased it with another straight shot, and then she headed to bed.

  And prayed the monsters wouldn’t get her tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Leo dropped his bag next to the door and sighed as he walked into the frilly, airy room in the quaint B&B. There were rose petals strewn across the bed, a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver urn on the dresser, two tall flutes ready and waiting next to it. One glass was etched with his, the other with hers.

  Cute, if he were with a companion.

  Which he wasn’t, for the record.

  But fuck it, he’d decided to go on this honeymoon anyway—even calling and asking if he could come a day early—after ditching his bride at the wedding rehearsal, so he might as well enjoy it to its fullest, right?

  He strode over and twisted the cork out of the bottle, filled one of the glasses, and then swallowed half the contents before topping it off.

  Shedding his slacks and dress shirt, he traded them for a pair of gym shorts and a white T-shirt, then wandered over to the French doors on the other side of the room and pulled them open. A blast of fresh, non-city air greeted him. It was warm, not surprising given it was June, but it wasn’t sticky or uncomfortably hot.