MEANT TO BE BROKEN
MEANT TO BE
BROKEN
V SAINT
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
MEANT TO BE BROKEN
By V Saint
Copyright ©2021 V Saint
Cover Design: Sinfully Seductive Designs
Editing: Heart Full of Reads
Proofreading: Dark by Design
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in case of the brief quotation embodied in reviews and certain non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Copyright ©2021 V Saint
Trigger Warning
Please beware that MEANT TO BE BROKEN contains multiple triggers, strong language, extended sexual content, and is suitable for 18+ readers only.
To the demons that haunt me at night and for the darkness that lies deep inside me.
Blurb
She’s the daughter of my enemy. An innocent casualty in the war between our families. Yet, the price for her father’s sins is hers to pay. I’m out for blood, and if starting a war is what gets me my revenge, then so be it. Let the blood pour like rain. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and better yet, cruel. I’ve been waiting patiently, lurking in the shadows of my enemy’s kingdom.
Now the mafia princess is mine — to hurt and destroy — for better or worse. Till death do us part. We’re like Romeo and Juliet, trapped in the dark, twisted fairy tale of hatred and desire. Our passion feeds fury. Our hate feeds lust. Yet she is all I crave in this sinful world of mine, and all I should never have.
Playlist
Klergy with Valerie Broussard – Start A War
The Pretty Reckless – Under The Water
Limi – The Best I Ever Had
Ursine Vulpine ft. Annaca – Wicked Games
Tommee Profitt ft. Liv Ash – A Storm is Coming
Aaryan Shah – Still Alive
Breaking Benjamin – The Dark Of You
Halestorm – Familiar Taste Of Poison
Always Never – Ghost In The Night
4Ever Falling – Take My Yes As A No
Godsmack – Under Your Scars
Conor Maynard – For The Night (Acoustic)
Always Never – I Tried
Parisse – In The Night
Sofia Karlberg – Lonelt Together
Aaryan Shah – Better Alone
Nilu – Steady Now
RED – If I Break (Acoustic)
Zayde Wolf - Redemption
12AM - Drugs
In Flames – Stay With Me
Aaryan Shah – Isolation
Three Days Grace – Gone Forever
Aaryan Shah – Et Tu?
Bolshiee – Dance In The Rain
Zayde Wolf – Hurricane
Evanescence - Hello
Paul de Senneville – Mariage d'Amour
Svrcina – Meet Me On The Battlefield
Halestorm – Break In
Sofia Karlberg – When The Storm Is Over
Archer – Protector (Acoustic)
Parisse - Babygirl
Prologue
Santo
I pour myself a finger of whiskey and swallow it down in one gulp. It burns, leaving a trail of heat down my throat, but I welcome the sensation. I watch her walking down the aisle through the half-closed door of the sacristy.
She’s a vision. The beautiful white dress she’s wearing highlights every curve of her body, her hair falls softly on her shoulders, her plump lips tremble. I should feel sorry for her, but I don’t. Her father is a sinner, and the price for his sins is hers to pay.
I have my men in every corner of this church, waiting for my command. And I must say, I enjoy this little show way too much. Don Moretti has had it coming ever since he killed my father. He’s a depraved monster who will stop at nothing to save his life. Too bad I’m about to take it soon. Very soon. I’ve been waiting patiently to destroy him, and if starting a war is what gets me my revenge, then so be it. Let the blood pour like rain. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and better yet, cruel. I’ve been waiting for this day to come for over three years, lurking patiently in the shadows of my enemy’s kingdom.
Moretti is a desperate man. His options are very limited, and yet I’ve never expected him to sacrifice his own daughter to save his ass. This man knows no morals, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I want him to suffer, I would’ve killed him a long time ago.
I watch the girl take her place at the altar. She swallows hard before turning her gaze away from her soon-to-be-husband, sadness and hurt painted all over her angelic face. The man who could easily be her father is about to marry her. The thought itself makes my insides twist and rage clouds my vision. How sick, sophisticated monster one must be to force his eighteen-year-old daughter into marrying a man in his fifties just to cement the contract and get his protection?
Before long they’re married, and that’s my cue to start my show. I wave my men to surround the guards present inside the church. They disarm them easily, leaving both Don Moretti and Victor Kolkov unprotected. I gulp down another scotch and step out of the sacristy, clapping my hands. My gaze is locked on Moretti, and I’m sure he’s already pissed himself. He knows what’s about to happen now. My men take down the Russians and Moretti’s guards. I walk over to him, smirking as I place the gun in his hands and take aim at Kolkov.
“Shoot him,” I command.
He shakes his head, and I draw another gun, this time to his temple.
“Shoot him,” I repeat. “I won’t ask again.”
Victor’s eyes lock on me, fear painted all over his face. The bride is pale as snow; tears streaming down her beautiful face, but she doesn’t make any sound.
“I’m going to count to three,” I say. “One. Two...”
Before I finish, Moretti hammers the bullet in Kolkov’s head. The blood stains the snow-white dress of his wife, making her scream at the top of her lungs. I disarm Moretti and rush over to the girl. She's shaken up, her limp body feeling like a feather when I cage her between my arms.
“No te preocupes, niñita.” Don't worry, little one. I say when a harsh sob escapes her mouth. “It's going to be okay.”
Chapter One
Gina
Yelling at the sky, I cry my soul out until my tears run dry. I knew my father isn’t a principled man, but still, his betrayal stings like salt poured into an open wound. Of all the horrible things he’s done, trading my life for his own protection is the cruelest act. If only my mother would still be alive, she would’ve stopped him from selling me to the Russian mob.
“Father, please.” A harsh sob escapes my throat. “Don’t make me marry this man. I beg of you.”
“We’re at war with Santo Ferrera, and war requires sacrifices. So you’ll do as you’re told because that’s what I have raised you for.”
I turn around and face his bitter gaze, looking him deep into the eyes. My silent plea is the last thing I can do. I’ve tried starving myself, taking my own life, running away — but with his dogs watching my every move, all of my attempts were unsuccessful. Ever since my father announced he’s marrying me off to Victor Kolkov, a Russian mobster, to get his protection and kill every Ferrera breathing, I tried to escape the hell my father created. Tried and failed miserably.
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I take a step back, the coldness of his gaze penetrating my soul. I barely recognize the man standing in front of me. Years of conflicts between Moretti and Ferrera mafia families have worn him out. He’s a jaded, ruthless monster. My happiness means nothing to him; I’m not sure it ever had. When my mother died, she took his heart with her, and since then, he fell deeper into the hole he dug for himself.
“Get yourself cleaned up and ready. The wedding starts in two hours.”
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Covering my face with the veil, I take a last glance at myself in the mirror. I’m the most miserable bride-to-be on earth. Even a beautiful Valentino wedding dress, diamond jewelry, and the most expensive pair of shoes will make me see myself as nothing but a whore my father sold to be used and abused by a man, who could’ve easily been my father. The amount of disgust I feel for him right now makes me want to throw up. My stomach coils in a tight knot, and I feel the anxiety crawling back in. I only hope once I’m married, I will find a way to escape or to end my life.
No one ever made me feel as small and worthless as my father did when he presented to me the agreement with Kolkov. In order to get Bratva’s protection, I was to marry Victor Kolkov, do my duty as his wife, and breed children when the time comes. The thought of his filthy hands on my body or anywhere near me is too much to bear when I make my way through the big wooden church door. I swallow hard, making my limp legs move when everything inside of me screams to run away. Tears wet my eyes, but I hold them at bay. I won’t let them fall. I cried time and again for the last two months and I refuse to cry again. My heart is long dead, and with every step I take toward the altar, my soul dies soundlessly.
The entire wedding feels like a blur. We exchange our vows, and I flinch when Kolkov’s hand touches mine. I barely register what’s happening around me when his lips land on mine to seal the deal. A wave of nausea hits me, so I escape to the only place my mind finds safe. A place where no one can find me. I shut down completely, feeling nothing. No rage. No pain. Just an endless abyss. Victor’s piercing gaze doesn’t scare me anymore.
I don’t feel his touch.
I’m safe.
I don’t register what’s happening around me until I hear my own scream, and suddenly I’m pulled back to reality. My dress is stained with Victor’s blood, his lifeless body lying on the floor. I look around to find my father with a gun in his hand aimed at Kolkov, and a tall, broad man holding a pistol to his temple. The fear painted all over my father’s face tells me he’s scared shitless, and whoever the man towering over him is, makes my father lose his breath.
Within the blink of an eye, the man disarms my father, and strides toward me. His gaze is stern, his eyebrows drawn together, the wicked sparkle in his eyes makes me halt in tracks. I try to run away, but my feet won’t move. Another sob escapes my mouth, and I feel like the weight of my own body is too much. My legs tremble underneath me, my breath becomes frantic, signaling an oncoming panic attack. A hoarse gasp escapes my throat when a pair of brawny arms wrap around me to keep me from plummeting.
His masculine scent wraps all over me, making me dizzy. His body is rock-hard, with his broad shoulders caging me in mercilessly. He towers over me, keeping me from the hurt. I don’t know who this man is; I’ve never seen him before, but the way his firm arms circle around me makes me feel safe.
“No te preocupes, niñita,” he says hoarsely. “It’s going to be okay.”
I lift my head to meet his gaze when he strokes my hair gently. Tears pour down my face, making my vision blurry. I take him in; his dark short hair falls messily on his forehead, his furrowed brows relax when I glance into his chocolate eyes. His full mouth creases into a thin line, making his five o’clock shadow scratch my forehead. He’s got that sinful look on his face, a piercing gaze that touches what’s left of my soul, and right at this moment, I feel safe. For the very first time in a long while.
“Keep your hands away from my daughter, Ferrera.” My father’s voice cuts through the silence.
Suddenly, I lose my breath.
Ferrera.
“Leave her out of this,” my father booms.
A loud cackle escapes Ferrera’s throat, making me jump. He turns his gaze to my father, still keeping me in his arms.
“You dragged her into this, Antonio,” he tells my father harshly. “You sold your own daughter to this old prick!” he yells with disgust, pointing at Kolkov’s body. “What does that make you?”
My father goes silent.
“A monster,” I whisper soundlessly, or at least I think I do, but somehow Ferrera hears it.
Tugging me closer to himself, he motions for one of his men to capture my father.
“You will regret this,” my father hisses.
I look up, trying to read this man’s stern expression, but he’s not giving anything away. His breath is even, his body tensed, his warm hand rubbing my shoulder. He glances at my father and laughs, causing goosebumps all over my body.
“You already took what was important to me, Antonio. Now, my old friend, you will pay for your sins against my family.” He smirks. “A life for a life.”
I shiver at malice in his words. He must notice how my body goes rigid, because his arm wraps tighter around my shoulder to keep me upright.
“You will pay for every crime against my family,” he says coldly. “Chain him,” he commands to one of his men. “I’ll see you soon, Antonio. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
My father curses his name, fighting the man who’s trying to chain him, then suddenly he’s passed out and the only sound cutting through the silence is my rapid breathing. I sway on my feet, trembling, my feet like jelly. Sensing my fear, he turns his gaze to me.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, caressing my arm with his hand.
I glance into his dark irises, trying to find the monster my father told me about, but all I see is genuine concern painted all over his beautiful face. I swallow hard and nod my response.
“Okay then, it’s time to go, niñita,” he tells me.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, frightened.
“Home.”
“And where is home?” Turning my head away, I take a deep breath.
“Sicily.”
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The journey is long and exhausting. After Ferrera’s people take care of the remaining guards outside of the church, we drive off and head to the private airport in Rome. Everything feels like a blur. One moment, I’m married to the Russian mobster; the next, I’m a widow, kidnapped by a vengeful Don. Can’t figure out which one is worse, yet.
I’m nervous, but who can blame me. The last twenty-four hours haven’t been the best moments in my life. Sure, my life was far from perfect before that, but at least I had some sense of stability. Now? I’m at the mercy of the man whose ruthlessness is known more than his first name.
Santo Ferrera.
The devil himself.
The flight to Sicily is short. His men move my father’s body like a sack of potatoes, sparing him the gentle treatment; not that he deserves any. Me, on the other hand, I’m treated with care by no-one else but the devil himself.
“What are you going to do with me?” I ask him when we step out of the plane and head toward the black SUV parked a few feet away.
He takes a deep breath and looks at me, saying, “We’ll see.”
“Are you going to kill me?” I whisper, avoiding his gaze.
“Ah, princesa. If I wanted you dead, you would be long dead by now. I wouldn’t trouble myself to bring you all over to Sicily just to end your life, don’t you think?” he answers, amused, but with a cold edge to his tone.
His eyes roam over my body, and my legs tremble. Swallowing hard, I turn my gaze away. In my short eighteen years of life, I’m genuinely scared, for the first time. I’m terrified of dying, not that what I have you’d call living, anyway. Existence, yes, but not life. Yet, his icy tone makes me lose my breath.
We take our seats in the car, and a few minutes later we’re on the road. I look out of the black tinted window and admire the sight. Who knows, it may be the first and the last time I get to see the beauty of this island. Etna towers over the cities, all beautiful and scary, just like the man next to me. Last rays of sunshine warm the earth, painting an evening sky orange and pink.
Minutes pass by and my eyelids feel heavy. I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically. My limbs hurt, but so does my heart. The fear fades away as I slowly drift away to sleep. I don’t know what tomorrow brings, or even the next few hours, but I’m used to the feeling of constant uncertainty. My whole existence is based on the unknown. I should be terrified of him, but I’m not. I know the man sitting next to me isn’t a sympathetic man, but I would bet my life that he’s still better than my own father.
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The car stops and a low masculine voice breaks through my sleepy haze. For a moment, I forget where I am, and to whom the deep, melodic voice belongs to. I groan and close my heavy eyelids again.
“Wake up, princesa,” he repeats, tugging on my elbow. “We’re here.”
I groan again, trying to shake his hand from my arm, but his grip tightens.
“Keep making that sound, and I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, niñita,” he murmurs in my ear, blowing sultry air on the exposed skin of my neck, causing goosebumps all over my body.
What the hell?
Why is my body reacting to his proximity that way?
I open my eyes, unable to catch my breath. His face is inches away from mine, his full lips curved into a luscious smile.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss.
He laughs, placing his palm on my cheek and nuzzling it.
“You’re in no position to make demands, amor.” A mischievous smirk dances on his lips.
I forget how to breathe. My hands shake, and the wave of nausea hits me. It takes all the willpower I have to control my body from puking on his shoes. I take a deep breath to calm myself. Breathe, just breathe, I repeat the mantra to myself. He cups my face in his big, strong palms, drawing circles on my cheeks with his thumbs. He breathes in the air, and then slowly releases it.