Becoming his Mistress: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Read online




  Becoming his Mistress

  A Zanetti Famiglia Novel

  Hayley Faiman

  Hayley Faiman Books, LLC

  Becoming his Mistress

  Copyright © 2019 by Hayley Faiman

  All rights reserved.

  Editor: My Brother’s Editor. Ellie McLove. http://www.mybrotherseditor.net

  Proofreading: iScream Proofreading Services. Rosa Sharon. http://www.iscreamproofreading.com

  Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs. Cassy Roop. https://www.pinkinkdesigns.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit my website at http://hayleyfaiman.com

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Also by Hayley Faiman

  Stay Connected

  Italian — American Mafia Structure

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Becoming her Hero

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  Stay Connected

  About the Author

  Special Thanks

  Also by Hayley Faiman

  Men of Baseball Series—

  Pitching for Amalie

  Catching Maggie

  Forced Play for Libby

  Sweet Spot for Victoria

  Russian Bratva Series —

  Owned by the Badman

  Seducing the Badman

  Dancing for the Badman

  Living for the Badman

  Tempting the Badman

  Protected by the Badman

  Forever my Badman

  Betrothed to the Badman

  Chosen by the Badman

  Bought by the Badman

  Collared by the Badman

  Notorious Devils MC —

  Rough & Rowdy

  Rough & Raw

  Rough & Rugged

  Rough & Ruthless

  Rough & Ready

  Rough & Rich

  Rough & Real

  Cash Bar Series —

  Laced with Fear

  Chased with Strength

  Flamed with Courage

  Blended with Pain

  Twisted with Chaos

  Mixed with trouble

  Forbidden Love Series —

  Personal Foul

  Kinetic Energy

  SAVAGE BEAST MC —

  UnScrew Me

  UnBreak Me

  UnChain Me

  Unfit Hero Series —

  CONVICT

  HERO

  FRAUD

  Zanetti Famiglia Series —

  Becoming the Boss

  Becoming his Mistress

  Esquire Black Duet Series –

  DISCOVERY

  APPEAL

  Standalone Titles

  Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale

  Stay Connected

  Website: http://hayleyfaiman.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorhayleyfaiman

  Facebook Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/433234647091715/

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  Italian — American Mafia Structure

  Boss – The head of the family. Usually referred to as Don or “Godfather.”

  Underboss – The second in command usually appointed by the Boss.

  Consigliere – Advisor to the family. Low profile and can be trusted. Used as a mediator for disputes or representatives in meetings with other families. Usually stockbrokers or lawyers.

  Family Messenger – Passes messages between family members and the Boss.

  Street Boss – Buffer position between the Boss and Capos. Head of the Caporegimes. Runs the day-to-day operations.

  Caporegime (Capo) – Sometimes called Captain. In charge of a crew. There are up to nine crews in each family each with around ten soldiers.

  Soldier – Members of the family, can only be of Italian background. They are associates who have proven themselves.

  Associate – Not a member of the mafia, but instead, an errand boy.

  Prologue

  ARLO

  ONE MONTH AGO

  Wynter McClain.

  The name alone sounds like goddamn nails on a chalkboard. But, I better get fucking used to it, since the puttana is about to be my wife. Wife. Fuck. Merda. My life has turned into a goddamn shit show, and for what?

  The famiglia, that’s fucking what.

  Running my fingers through my hair, I lift the joint to my lips and close my eyes. Gavino Santoro has taken over the Zanetti famiglia, and now my life.

  He’s my best friend. I support everything he does for the famiglia. Hell, I helped him get my cousin, Luciana, away from her supposed intended so that he could keep her, marry her.

  Merda, I even helped him kill my own relative, my uncle. Though, the motherfucker deserved everything he had coming. However, I didn’t realize the events that I aided, that they would affect my own fucking life though. Not like this.

  “You look, depressed.”

  Speak of the devil.

  Opening one of my eyes, I look over at the perfectly dressed, wearing a tailored designer suit, man across from me. My cousin in marriage, my Boss, Gavino.

  “Spent an hour with Wynter and her fucking parents,” I sneer.

  He flinches. Good. At least he feels semi-guilty for forcing this alliance on me. I get it, I really do, she’s a senator’s daughter, a New York senator’s daughter. We need the alliance, we need the federal law on our side, especially with the new overseas transports that he’s just signed a contract for.

  “That bad?” he asks.

  Arching a brow, I press my lips together in a flat line. “I couldn’t describe it if I tried. It’s worse than any nightmare I’ve ever fucking had. Then I remember that in a few months, I won’t be able to leave, I’ll be living with the annoying fucking bitch.”

  “Cazzo,” Vino curses.

  I shake my head, taking another hit before sinking into the chair. “The fucking shit we do for the famiglia, yeah
?” I chuckle.

  “You’re an Underboss, you should not be living in misery,” he points out.

  I agree. Boy, do I fucking agree. Responsibilities to the famiglia, to my Boss, they don’t disappear. It didn’t matter which of the women he gave me as an option to choose from, they were all the exact same.

  There was no lesser of evils, there was no way to end up in a happy union. There is just misery waiting for me, and it’s now that I understand why so many of our men end up with mistresses, with comáres.

  “I’ll find happiness somewhere,” I smirk, opening one eye to look over at him.

  “Planning on taking a comáre already?” he asks, arching a brow.

  Clearing my throat, I take another hit, hoping that this joint will ease my tension before I have to go and visit my own parents. “If one suits my fancy, yeah, until then whores and drugs are my only saving grace,” I chuckle.

  “Cazzo,” he curses. “I’m trusting you with running the casino, can you handle that right now?”

  Sitting up a little straighter, my gaze meets his, my eyes alert and focused on him. “I fucking got this, Vino. You never have to worry about my ability to perform, my loyalty to you or the famiglia. None of it will ever be a concern, not even if my personal life is a living hell.”

  Gavino jerks his chin in a nod, then slowly stands to his feet. He reaches toward me, clapping his hand on my shoulder.

  “I trust you, Arlo. Fuck, you’re the only man that I trust on this goddamn earth. For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry that this went down this way. I never wanted you, or anyone else, to have to marry for convenience, yeah?”

  Shaking my head, I rise to my own feet, stubbing out the smoke. “Yeah,” I say, my throat thick. “What’re ya gonna do, eh? How’s my cousin?” I ask, switching subjects.

  He smirks, then I watch something I’ve never seen before, a look that’s foreign crosses his features. The fucking bastard is in love. His eyes go all soft and hazy, his lips part slightly before they turn up into a grin as his hand falls from my shoulder.

  “Oh, God,” I moan. His gaze snaps to me and thank fuck the look is wiped from his face. “You’re in love,” I announce.

  “I’m married.”

  Shaking my head, I smirk. “I’m happy for you, but merda, Vino. You look downright love struck.”

  He snorts, reaching his hand back and punches me in the shoulder. I rock back on my heels, my laughter bubbling out of me before I’ve realized what’s happened. It’s the first time that I’ve laughed in months.

  Lifting my hand, I wrap it around the back of Vino’s neck. Pressing my forehead to his, I don’t know if it’s the weed that’s mellowed me and made me feel affectionate, or if I’m really just that happy for them.

  “Happy for you, both of you. Lemme know when we can go out, yeah?”

  “With or without the bitch?” he asks on a chuckle, trying to make light of the situation.

  Dropping my hand, I take a step back and smirk. “Without. Maybe I’ll bring a date.” I wink.

  Gavino shakes his head a few times, his eyes finding mine. Then something happens, something shifts in his features. Call it, humanity maybe? It’s something he rarely shows.

  “If you really can’t go through with it, we’ll find a way, Arlo. I can’t see you suffer. There are plenty of men we can give her to, to form an alliance.”

  I jerk my chin, then shake my head once. “Made a promise to the famiglia, put a ring on the puttana’s finger. It’s done.” I wave my hand in the air to signal its finality. “My decision is made. My hell is laid out in front of me. Maybe one day that can change, but for now, the famiglia is more important than my personal selfish happiness.”

  “You’re a good man, Arlo.”

  Vino turns away from me, I watch his retreating form and I feel like anything but a good man. I feel like a coward, like a weak pussy. I’m marrying Wynter, but I hate her. I’m planning to cheat on her and often.

  I’ve turned into the majority of the men in the famiglia and the fucker of it all—I don’t feel guilty.

  ELENORA

  TWO WEEKS AGO

  God.

  He is beautiful.

  I’ve never seen a man so breathtaking in all of my entire life.

  Not that I’ve seen a lot of beautiful men. Working in a lingerie store doesn’t really afford me the ability to ogle men all day long. Every now and then, I’ll get a man who walks through the door and wants to buy something for his wife, his lover, his mistress.

  But this man. My god. He’s gorgeous. His dark hair, olive-toned skin, those blue eyes. They render me frozen, speechless, breathless. I watch him from my post behind the counter. He stands with his back to the wall, his gaze roaming over the room as if he’s looking for someone or something.

  “Hey,” a woman’s voice murmurs.

  Shifting my gaze from the god-like man dressed in Italian finery, I look across from me and my lips immediately turn up into a smile. I don’t know her name, but I recognize the woman who stands across from me.

  “Hello, how can I help you?” I ask.

  She meets my smile with one of her own. “Luciana,” she introduces, holding out her hand for me. Reaching across the counter, slipping my palm into hers, I shake Luciana’s hand.

  “Lenora,” I offer.

  “You were so helpful last time I came in, I thought that I would see if you could help me again?”

  Blinking, I nod once, then move around the counter so that there isn’t the barrier between us and we can move around the store. “Sure, what can I help you with?” I ask.

  I watch as she looks over her shoulder at the beautiful man. It makes sense, one dark-haired model type woman hooked up with a man of equal stature. I sigh heavily, beautiful people flock together, it’s like there’s something inside of them that just makes them find one another no matter the circumstances.

  “I need something, bridal?” she asks, scrunching her nose as if she’s smelled something awful.

  My eyes flick down to the gigantic ring, then lift to hers. “Not for me,” she says, shaking her head. “I was married almost two months ago. This is for someone else. A friend,” she grinds out.

  “Ah.” I nod. “Bachelorette party obligations?” I ask as I begin moving toward our bridal department.

  “Something like that,” she grumbles under her breath.

  I show her all the options that my store carries. We have everything from demure to downright sinful. I watch as Luciana bites the corner of her lip and reaches for something in the middle.

  A backless white silk baby doll with white lace panties. It has Swarovski crystals that embellish the soft silk at the neckline and hemline.

  “It’s one of our most popular wedding ensembles,” I point out. “What about a garter for her, too?”

  Luciana snorts before her eyes alight with excitement. “I think this will be sufficient. Now, do you have anything new that I haven’t seen come in, for me?”

  My lips turn up and I nod once as I take the slip from her and guide her over toward our new arrivals. “I’ll just bag this up, would you like me to gift wrap it for you?”

  “Yes, that would be lovely,” she says distractedly as she fingers through the new merchandise.

  Making my way over to the gift wrap station behind my counter, I try to ignore the gorgeous man who stands guard in the corner. However, he’s not a man that you ignore. He’s commanding, just his presence alone fills up the entire room.

  I finish wrapping the lingerie, then check Luciana out and I smile courteously, tell her goodbye and good luck, to come back. I watch as he walks out of the door, right at her side, but never touches her.

  With a sigh, I continue on with my day, willing myself to forget the handsome, probably married, stranger.

  The day goes by quickly, the evening rush is huge and I can’t help but be thankful for the distraction of the day. The more tired that I am, the less I’ll wallow in my own self-pity when I go home alone.


  Walking over to the door to lock up for the night, I begin to turn my key when I let out a gasp of surprise.

  There, standing in front of my door, is him. He dips his chin toward the handle and I take a step back from the door as he strides inside. My keys are still in the lock and my breath hitches when he locks the shop’s door behind him.

  “Arlo Zanetti,” he announces.

  His voice is smooth, deep, thick. God. He sounds just as sexy as he looks. Licking my lips, I tilt my head back to look up into his blue eyes.

  “Lenora Lewis,” I whisper.

  He reaches out, taking my hand in his and my entire body freezes when he lifts my hand to his lips. He kisses my fingers. Kisses. My. Fingers. Like some old timey gentleman. Though judging by the predatory look in his eyes, he’s nothing of the sort.

  “Go out with me, Lenora,” he states, not asks.

  I gently tug my hand out of his and take a step back. “Your wife,” I breathe. “She’s stunning and so sweet.”

  He looks taken aback for a moment, then his lips quirk into a small smile. “My cousin. That’s who I was with today. Not my wife.”