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Colt Knox/Mikki De'lucca/Oliver Reid/Juliette Knox/Rocco De'lucca/Konstantin Ivanov/Angelo De'lucca
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1. Hunting for Honey
2. Feilds of Clover
3. Broken Hearts & Coup D'etats
4. Secrets of Summer
5. Lace & Leather
6. The Colt & The Cobra
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18. Romeo
SPECTER SPECIALS
• Halloween Specials - ANGELMAKER The Southside Slayer & ANGELMAKER II The Southside Slaughter
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• The Little Blook Of Love - A collection of romantic one shots
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WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT AND STRONG VIOLENCE THEMES THAT MAY BE DISTRESSING TO SOME
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Mikki De'lucca
The click of camera shutters whir and snap like a swarm of buzzing insects, their flashing lights blinding you as you step a perfectly manicured, strappy heel-clad foot from the sleek black Jaguar..
The paparazzi swell forward to get a better angle of you and the team of your father's security guards work overtime to hold the line.. "MIKKI, MIKKI OVER HERE! MISS DE'LUCCA!! GIVE US A SMILE MIKKI!! LOOK OVER HERE MIKKI!! TALK TO US MIKKI!!" They all shout at the top of their lungs, one over the other, but you don't engage with their nonsense..
No.. You've learned to ignore the press.. Especially since they never have anything good to say about you..
No matter what you do, you will always live in the shadow of your fathers violent criminal legacy.. Haunted by your family name..
De'lucca's are known as one thing..
Dealers of death..
"MIKKI, IS IT TRUE DUE TO THE RECENT ATTEMPT AGAINST HIS LIFE YOUR FATHER IS RETIRING?!
WILL YOU BE TAKING HIS PLACE?!
DOES THIS MAKE YOU THE CITY'S NEW GODMOTHER?! TALK TO US, MIKKI!!"
Your expensive designer heels click against the concrete as you approach the security gates, seeing the hulking mass of a man that is Dax Ranger, your father's head of security, rushing to bring you inside..
He shoves open the gate just as one of the paparazzo breaks away from security..
You would recognise Roberto Carloni from a mile away, a reporter with a particular dislike for you and your family.
A bloodhound with the scent of hatred in his nostrils, he runs full speed at you, his lense raised and camera flashing wildly.. "YOU AND YOUR WHOLE FAMILY SHOULD BE IN PRISON, BITCH!! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THE DRUGS, MIKKI, THE GANG VIOLENCE, ALL THE BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS!!? WILL YOU FINALLY TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT YOUR FAMILY HAS DONE TO THIS CITY!!?"
You take a startled step back and your heel catches a crack in the cement, your ankle rolls with a twist and you trip, tumbling to the ground.. Your palms and elbows grazing the gravel and burning as they scrape the ground..
The cameras go berserk, just like sharks, the whiff of blood sending them into a frenzied state, desperate to capture every frame of your humiliation.. "Oh.. Ow.."
The photographer looms over you snapping shots of your embarrassing, vulnerable position, right up untill Dax's fist collides with his jaw.. The camera goes flying, broken fragments of costly glass and plastic scattering across the driveway.. "Get the fuck away from Miss De'lucca!.."
The blindsided photographer goes down with a groan as a pair of brutish arms wrap around your waist and haul you up and over a beefy shoulder..
Dax carrries you through the gate before setting you back on your feet and looking you over.. "You alrite' Mikki?.."
You brush the dirt from your high-cut, skinny fit jeans with a huff.. "Im fine, damnnit.. And you shouldn't have done that.." You snark sharply, turning your back on him to begin walking up the drive of the compound towards your house..
Well.. Your father's house..
Godfather to the city's most violent mafia organisation..
The mob..
Something you are reminded of.. Every single day.. Either by the constantly hounding press or the criminal investigators who have questioned you relentlessly your entire life..
Or how about the rising body count of your father's enemies, associates and employees, the evidence of which can be seen nightly on the news..
That's just the way it's always been and no amount of you taking responsibility would change that..
If fact, the harder you try to escape this life, the deeper into the muck you fall..
So you're done.. You're done trying to escape..
Instead, you have become the very thing you had denied your whole life..
Ruthless..
"Hey.. Don't be like that, baby.." He jogs to catch up with you.. "I was just looking out for you.."
You hate it when he calls you 'baby'.. Like.. Its almost physically repulsive.. It reminds you of mistakes made and poor choices you'd rather not remember..
Spinning around you poke a finger hard into his chest.. "Lets get one thing straight here Ranger, we fucked, ONE TIME.. I'm not your 'baby' .. And you weren't 'looking out for me' at all.. In fact, you just ensured that tomorrow's headline reads something like; 'Mobster Mikki sicks deranged security guard on innocent paparazzo'.."
You wave a hand across the air as though you can picture the headlines written in the sky.. And you can.. You can guarantee within the hour, the pictures of you, falling on your ass will be all over the Internet..
"So, in a way Dax, now you've fucked me, twice.. Great fucking job, Leccaculo.."
With those final sarcastic words you toss the keys to your Jag in his direction, implying he park it for you.. No, its not his job, but you feel it's important for him to remember his place and that place is at your feet..
He catches the jangly keys with a glower that satisfies your inner devil.. With one last triumphant smirk and the flick of your long honey highlighted blowout, you turn away..
"Whatever, you'll come knockin' on my door again soon.. We both know you're broken, baby.."
You don't bother turning back.. Because you definitely will not be returning for seconds.. If ever there was a bigger disappointment to be found than Dax Rangers sexual performance, you'd be hard pressed to find it..
The man is all ego, no brains, and dull as a doorknob sure he's handsome enough.. But there was no heat in that fire..
No spice in his spaghetti..
Just a plain.. Boring.. Unseasoned.. Noodle.. Blah..
And he has the audacity to call you broken?!
"Keep telling yourself that, Dax.." You leave him outside, pushing through the front door to be met by your father's stern face..
Angelo De'lucca waits in the foyer, impeccably dressed, his dark hair slicked back and a stern expression set on his face.. "Mikkalia!.. Where have you been?! I told you not to go anywhere by yourself untill we hired your new security detail!.. Are your trying to get yourself abducted by the Bratva and held for ransom?! Fottuta ragazza stupida!?"
Folding your arms defensively across your chest, your father sees the scrapes on your hands and elbows from your spill earlier.. His eyes widen and he steps forward, seizing your wrist in a vice-like grip, inspecting the raw wounds.."What the fuck is this?!.. Have you been fighting again?!.."
You yank your arm back out of his scrutinising grasp.. "I haven't been in a fight since high school, papa.. Please, stop it.." You feel minuscule under his assessing stare..
"Nah, Mikki is a good girl now, uncle Angelo.. Ain't that right, Mick?.." You nod along with your favourite cousin, Rocco De'lucca, who magically and thankfully has appeared on the mezzanine above you..
Rocco, like you, is considered a black sheep among wolves.. His father, Angelo's brother and your uncle, had been the target of a revenge killing..
Ricky De'lucca had been shot dead in his driveway on a Sunday morning while he was on his way to church..
Two in the head.. Two in the heart.
Ever since, Rocco has pretty much gotten away with anything he wants.. Not that you mind, because he generally uses that power to keep himself out of trouble.. Well.. most of the time..
And occasionally he uses it to save you from your father's scrutiny.. But only when he is feeling generous..
"See?.. I only went out to visit some of the children at the hospital for the foundation.. Nobody saw me.. Nobody even knew I was there.. I was careful, I promise.." You blink up at Angelo sweetly..
Your father scowls.. "And I tripped over outside.. Thats why I'm bleeding on your expensive hardwood.. Satisfied?.."
He inclines his chin slightly, regarding you with a steely eye.. "Very well, bambina.. Come.. Im going to see to it that there is no more of this sneaking off.. I wont have the Russians using you against me.."
You can't help but scoff at his primary concern.. Its not that you would be kidnapped..
Its that you would be used agaist him..
Because it is always about him..
He turns and strides through the foyer to the living room, your cousins decends the staircase smirking at you while you try to refrain from rolling your eyes..
"Heh.. You're gunna love this shit, Mick..." Rocco brushes past you with a chuckle and you follow him into the living room, to be greeted by a startling sight that can only be describe as 'brothel-esque'..
Completely appalled and embarrassed by your father's behaviour your cheeks heat to firey temperatures..
"Oh.. For fucks sake.." You grumble under your breath..
There, standing neatly in a uniform row are several men.. All of them oversized, muscular, security types..
All of them shirtless..
Broad shoulders, ripped muscle and tattooed six packs swallow up all the space in the enormous room.. And suddenly it is almost too hot to breathe..
"Uhhmm?.. Why the hell are they half naked?!" You wave a dramatic hand, trying to avoid checking them all out like a thirsty flesh tourist..
Not one of the burly men flinch at your obvious outrage.. All of them maintain their completely deadpan, emotionless expressions..
All, except for one..
One of them chuckles, rich and rumbly..
Your eyes snap to the blonde haired, crystal eyed hunk and he immediately recomposes his stern expression, but those bright, baby blue eyes still sparkle mischievously..
Your father's barked orders brings you crashing back into the moment as you reluctantly peel your gaze from blondie..
"Pick one, Mikki.. I don't care which one.. I don't care why.. You need a bodyguard, amore.. One that wont be leaving your side.. So you might as well choose one you enjoy looking at.."
You make a disgusted face.. "Oh, no.. Papa.. That is so wrong.. Do you really think that is appropriate hiring criteria?" You can't very well say, 'yes please I'll take them all'..
... As tempting as that may be..
Though honestly, is this some kind of joke?..
You don't mean to be rude, but it sure feels like one.. Besides.. Its safer for these guys if your father doesnt think you don't like them.. Because if he did.. Well they'd probably end up dead.. Like everyone one else you've ever cared about..
Your first boyfriend.. Your husband.. The guy from the Irish-pub downtown whos name you can't remember that you had so carelessly rebounded with..
Oh yeah.. They're all dead..
A consequence of their connection to you..
Anybody you get too close to is at risk of falling victim the vicious cycle of your father's choices..
And the newspapers, well they just can't get enough of your supposed 'black widow' antics..
Dax should count himself lucky that he is still breathing..
And in truth, you've kind of been waiting for the day he dissappears too.. Not that you nessicarily want him too.. But that is just what always happens..
You've come to expect it..
Actually, you're kind of surprised that any of these men would apply for the position, given the rumours about you..
"Mother Mary!.. You must be paying through the nose to have these guys degrade themselves like this.. Tell me boys.. How much is your dignity worth?.." You ask as Rocco snickers and once again so does blondie..
Your mouth dries.. Good lord, he's finer than the most expensive bottle in the De'lucca cellars..
And not at all like the other men in the lineup..
No, something about this guy is completely different.. He doesn't hold himself with the same overzealous seriousness.. He's casual and easy.. Comfortable in his skin..
"Enough with these stupid games!.. Choose Mikkalia, or I will decide for you!" Angelo bellows impatiently..
You shrink away from his booming tone.. Its no use, you can act a smart-ass all you like, but it won't change your father's mind.. You're going to have to pick one of these guys..
... But that doesnt mean you can't have some fun irritating your father in the process.. "Fine.." You slink towards bodyguard number one in line, ready to begin your inspection..
You have to figure out which of these guys will interfere the least with your life, or your plans.. "But not before we assess their pedigree, Papa.."