His Solace: The Cardarelli Brother’s Read online

  His Solace

  THE CARDARELLI BROTHER’S

  MAFIA MADE

  BOOK SIX

  KL DONN

  Copyright © 2022 by KL Donn

  All rights reserved.

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

  Photographer: Lindee Robinson

  Models: Shannon & Adam

  Designer: Alluring Write Productions

  Editor: KA Matthews

  Dedication

  Wouldn’t it be nice,

  If it was just…

  You and I.

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Introduction

  Prologue

  1. Isabel

  2. Pace

  3. Isabel

  4. Isabel

  5. Pace

  6. Isabel

  7. Isabel

  8. Pace

  9. Isabel

  10. Pace

  Epilogue

  Mafia Made World

  His Protection by KL Donn

  About the Author

  Also by KL Donn

  Synopsis

  From USA Today Bestselling Author KL Donn comes the Mafia Made series, featuring novels from Award-Winning Author E.M. Shue. His Solace is book 6 in the Mafia Made Series.

  She’s purity and sunlight.

  He’s evil and sin.

  He’s a monster…

  Pace Cardarelli isn’t a good man. He fights dark and dirty and if he’s paid enough, nothing is off limits.

  Called by the Morello’s to complete a job, he moves swiftly.

  Studying the man he’s been sent to kill, he never expected to find her.

  The girl with the dark hair, a mischievous look and a desire to run away.

  Isabel Brambilla is wild, sheltered, and determined to be his solace.

  She’ll love him anyway.

  Refusing to listen to his warnings, Isabel will follow him to the darkest depths of hell to show Pace she loves him.

  He rescued her, stole her heart with his aggressive loving, and now she wants to build forever with him.

  After eliminating the evil behind her tragic life, Pace isn’t expecting more trouble and just when he’s feeling comfortable enough to take what Isabel is promising, their world explodes, and he’s left wondering whether he can ever give Isabel the life she deserves or if she’s better off without him.

  This is a dark romance with aspects of physical and sexual abuse, and graphic violence. Proceed with caution. While each book can be read as a standalone, readers may find more enjoyment in chronological order.

  Introduction

  Welcome to USA Today Bestselling Author KL Donn’s Mafia Made world, featuring Award Winning Author E.M. Shue with 3 of her own books included in the Mafia Made series.

  You can find complete details of the series here: MAFIA MADE WORLD.

  While the books are interconnected, each book in the series can be read as a complete standalone story.

  Prologue

  PACE

  Catania, Sicily

  Stepping into Natale Morello’s home, children run around screaming and laughing freely. Abundantly. Natale and his family have spent over a year creating a new perception of the mafia in Sicily, and from what I can see, it’s working.

  “Pace,” the “kid” calls from the entrance of his office. I’ll never be able to see him as anything but the boy I once knew all those years ago. Before his life went to shit and his family found themselves on the run. Catania was a different place while they were gone, but it has new life, now. New blood flowing through the streets.

  “Rome, huh?” I say as I walk past him, and the door closes with a soft snick. Standing in the middle of the Morello study, Carlo is behind the desk watching us with what I can only describe as a defeated look on his face. “What’s going on?” They didn’t divulge much detail over the phone when they called me across the island.

  “There’s a priest at a church…or the entire church, actually.” Natale shakes his head as he speaks, anger lining every tense muscle of his body. “They take children from their mothers. Unwed, single mothers, who can’t fight back because the church paints them as unfit to care for their infants.”

  “What do you want me to do?” If they expect me to kill a priest and his entire flock, they’re going to need to spell it out.

  “Here.” Carlo hands me a sheet of paper. Skimming it, I see there are a dozen names listed.

  “Nuns.” I glance up at them, looking from one to the other. Their grim expressions relay a horror story. “How do you know about this?”

  “Maria has an old friend in Rome; her granddaughter was stolen from her mother’s arms in her own home. They were able to retrieve the baby, but only because they used our name as a threat. The friend gave us the list of people involved, stating she spoke or fought with each of them before getting the child back for her distraught daughter,” Carlo explains, and I can tell it’s not just his wife’s friend, it’s one of his as well. “We dug deeper, and there’s more on each of them in the file.”

  “We would consider it a personal favor if you destroyed them.” Natale says this so casually that you’d think he didn’t have a heart, but I know better. I know the obsessive way he loves his young wife.

  Never in my twenty-nine years on this earth did I think I would be jealous of a man nearly a decade younger than me. And I find, after watching my brothers—first, Domino and then Santi—settling down, that I’d like a woman of my own as well. I’ve never had one before, so I don’t even know if they’re to my liking.

  “Fine. If I find other babies there, shall I bring them here until we find their parents?” I see from the look on their faces that they hadn’t thought about that.

  “Yes, the orphanage will care for them here,” Natale responds. The orphanage is Posy’s baby. She brings in children from all over the country to ensure they’re taken care of to her standard.

  “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

  Little do I know just how difficult my life is about to become.

  CHAPTER 1

  Isabel

  ROME, ITALY

  “Don’t do it.” I look back over my shoulder at Sister Daia as I reach further into the rose bush. I just want one clipping. Just one. “They always catch you.” Sister Daia is the only friend I have in the church. She’s the only one who even pretends I exist as a human rather than a nuisance.

  “I’ve almost got it,” I mutter as a leaf blows into my mouth.

  Ignoring the sting of the thorns slicing up my arms so I can gather this one simple rose bulb, I finally clip it and breathe a sigh of relief. I’m not supposed to be in the war memorial let alone in the gardens of it, but I just can’t take it anymore.

  I’ve lived my entire life under the rule of the church. Under the thumb of Father Cassio and Sister Jeanne. I live an existence of poverty and potato sacks for clothes. I have no color in my life, and the roses are too beautiful to pass up. Nobody will miss this one flower. They won’t even know it’s missing because I took it from the back of the bush where it meets the brick wall.

  Not unless Sister Maura spies on us again. She’s always tattling, despite asking to join Daia and I on our tunnel adventures. She’s a fighting spirit being stifled by the rule of God himself.

  I’ve lived inside the church for as long as I can remember. Prayed to a man I don’t even believe exists. How can he when he allows the things that happen to me? My earliest memories of this horrid place: agony, strife, conflict. There’s always something challenging my faith in His grand plan.

  “Come on, Isabel!” Daia’s plea is more insistent, which means someone is coming. Probably Sister Dolores. The old hag enjoys nothing more than to drag me around by the ear and toss me at Father Cassio’s feet. She glories in the punishments I take at the hands of Sister Hildegard’s beloved whip.

  I don’t understand why they don’t let me leave. According to the documents Daia and I found a few weeks ago, I’m older than eighteen. At least the date listed on the intake form of the day I was brought here is older than eighteen years. It’s sad really. To not know my legal birth date or age.

  I’ve never celebrated anything in my life. I glimpse the fireworks from the city of Rome a few times a year, but I’m quickly dragged inside and tossed into the dungeon before I can enjoy them. I’m stuck behind the walls of this prison all day, every day. There is no relief. There is no exploration of the country I wish I knew how to appreciate.

  There is nothing more I’d love than to leave, but the last time I tried, I wasn’t able to move for a week. Daia had to tend to me, and while I don’t remember the horrors of those days, it puts fear in my friend unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jumping out from the bush, I shove the rosebud in my pocket and hold the dead branches in my hand, so I have an excuse for being out here. “Nobody is around. Why are you so worried?” Turning on the hose, I use the cold water to wash the blood and dirt off my arms. If luck is on my side, no one will even know what I’ve been up to.

  “I heard Sister Anna calling your name. She’s going to find out.” I don’t know why, but Anna scares the daylights out of Daia. She won’t give me details, and every time I try to snoop, someone is always around. “Isab
el!” Her sharp tone tells me I’m in trouble.

  “Go.” I push the nun away, inside the back entrance. I’ve always done everything I could to protect her. She’s the only one here I can trust, and I’ll never put her in danger or in the line of fire the way I always seem to be.

  “What are you doing out here?” Anna rounds the back corner of the church wall with a sneer on her face. The look is one I don’t like.

  “I just wanted some fresh air.” I never elaborate. It’s how lies are caught. And as much as I hate it, I lie to the sisters often.

  “You have a meeting.” She grasps my arm, pulling so hard, I stumble and drop the dead branches I was holding as I attempt to balance myself.

  “You’re hurting me.” Her nails dig into my upper arm, and I know there will be bruises there later.

  “Shut up. If you’d just do what you’re told, you wouldn’t be hurt so often.” Her clipped words as we enter the hallway leading to Father Cassio’s chambers have bile rising to my mouth.

  “Where are we going?” I’m not allowed in this wing of the church. It’s one rule I’ve always followed. Something in my gut screamed that I must listen. Entering a room across from the door labelled office, I feel sicker. It’s small, and chains line the walls. “No!” I won’t be shackled. I won’t stay here.

  Tugging on the grip holding me hostage, my feet drag as she pulls me farther into the room. Stronger than I ever would have thought, I stumble to my knees when she stops abruptly. “Stop being so dramatic, and do as you’re told for once, Isabel.” Shoving me face first into the ground, Sister Anna leaves without another word.

  Scrambling to my feet, I rush to the door. The lock prevents me from opening it, and I whimper. Banging my fists against the heavy wood, I spin and look around for an escape. The walls are tall with only a single window near the vaulted ceiling. No trap doors, no way to climb up…I’m stuck. And until they open this door, I have to remain.

  Dropping to the ground in the corner of the room behind the door, I let out a blood-curdling scream. Loud enough that I hear the birds lift off the rafters outside and see their shadows fly across the sunlit window.

  I wish I had wings.

  Pace

  * * *

  I fucking hate church.

  I hate corrupt churches even more.

  In a city dedicated to love and religion, there are too fucking many Godless houses of worship. On the outskirts of the city, Saint Joseph’s Basilica looms ominously in the otherwise light sky. From the dreary brick and mortar to the hollow windows, there is nothing welcoming about this hellhole. It screams evil, yet people are still drawn to it.

  Walking up the steps to the imposing ornamental doors, I pull it open just as a high-pitched scream sets off a flurry of birds from the rooftop and surrounding trees into the clouds. It’s chilling, and if I were a man with fears, I’d turn the other way.

  The doors expand into a large entryway, with a view of the central hub of the building. A pretentious alter sits above the rows of benches for the parishioners, and that’s where I see him. Father Cassio. I don’t know if that’s his first or last name—there isn’t nearly as much free information available about the man as I’d like, and the church isn’t one to be forthcoming. He’s speaking to another male, one who seems familiar but I’m unsure why, as a nun approaches them. She draws their attention to me by pointing my way as I lean against one of the back pews, arms crossed.

  I came to intimidate today, and my attire reflects that. Dark-wash jeans with rips in the knees, rows of chains hanging from my front belt loop to my wallet in my back pocket, combat boots, and black muscle shirt highlight my equally dark tattoos. Especially given they cover nearly every inch of my body. The silver chain around my neck holds the pentagram of the devil, and the large rings on my fingers are hard to miss.

  Right now, they’re likely surmising that I’m some ex-con, a lost soul, maybe a drifter looking for absolution. I’m none of those. I’m just a man hired to hit a church with a list of names.

  But that scream…

  Filled with anguish and fear. It’ll haunt me until I find the voice on the other end of it.

  “Can I help you, son?” Father Cassio finally walks towards me as the nun escorts the other man away to a back hallway. My eyes stay with them until they’re out of sight. “Sir?”

  “Pace,” I say, still not looking at him. “What was that scream?”

  I know he’s going to lie to me before he opens his mouth. “It’s an old church, lots of odd sounds happen. They’re more pronounced when it’s empty.”

  My austere eyes slide to take him in now. Lasering him with the same intensity as I feel, I call out his lie. “The church feels agony?”

  I watch the way his throat works to swallow. “It hears the pain of my congregation, of the lost souls.”

  Jesus Christ. “Straight-up terror, too, then. There’s fear in these old walls?” Walking past the old man, I don’t let him feed me anymore bullshit. “I thought you were supposed to tell the truth, Father Cassio. Your God frowns upon lying.”

  “Wh-what are you talking about?” His façade easily shatters, but I’d like to play with him some more.

  Glancing back at him over my shoulder as I follow the same path as the nun. “That was not the church screaming out the pain of its confessions. That was a woman afraid, terrified.” I watch him closely.

  When his eyes drift to a door down the hall, that’s where I head. “There are no women afraid in my church. We are open to all and provide love and faith to those who need it.”

  “That so,” I mutter as we approach the door, and I notice the nun and man in an office across the hall from it. Turning the doorknob of the one the priest glanced at, I find it locked. “Open it,” I demand.

  “I’m sorry, but I cannot,” he replies stubbornly.

  “Can’t, or won’t?” I challenge.

  “Both.” His chin raises in challenge.

  Facing the priest fully, I allow my gaze to travel up and down his body before a sadistic grin spreads my lips. “Perhaps I should introduce myself properly.” Cassio’s eyes seek out the nun. “I’m Pace Cardarelli. Natale Morello sent me.”

  His face pales so quickly, I think he’s going to pass out. “Morello,” he repeats in a hushed tone as I nod. “Wh-wh-what does he want?”

  “Morello?” The person in the office comes forward. “I know Carlo; we’re old friends. How is he?”

  I don’t need to look at the man to know he’s no friend of the Morellos. Anyone who is, wouldn’t be asking about them, and they wouldn’t be admitting to knowing them in a place like this. “Ask him yourself…” I leave the sentence hanging.

  Clearing his throat, I feel his eyes on me. “Albert Liani.”

  “Albert Liani.” I repeat his name and commit it to memory for future use. I have the feeling I’ll be seeing this guy again. “What are you doing here, Albert?”

  “Making a donation.” His grin is slick, just like his greasy hair.

  “I’ll be back, Father Cassio. I suggest you be here when I do.” Walking away with that scream still haunting my ears, I stroll casually to my motorcycle sitting on the street outside.

  I fully intend to return. But not right away. I want them to grow comfortable in the assumption that I’ve left and forgotten about them. Only then will I figure out what I missed today, because my presence won’t be felt the same way it was now.

  CHAPTER 2

  Pace

  SEVERAL DAYS LATER.