Possessive Captor

POSSESSIVE CAPTOR A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE THE VALENTI CRIME FAMILY BOOK ONE KELSIE CALLOWAY Copyright © 2023 Kelsie Calloway All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact Kelsie Calloway at [email protected]. Exceptions: Reviewers may quote brief passages for reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. CONTENTS Newsletter Sign Up 1. Raniero 2. Calliope 3. Raniero 4. Calliope 5. Raniero 6. Calliope 7. Raniero 8. Calliope 9. Raniero 10. Calliope 11. Raniero 12. Calliope 13. Raniero 14. Calliope 15. Raniero 16. Calliope 17. Raniero Epilogue Also By Kelsie Calloway Have you left a review? Follow Kelsie Calloway NEWSLETTER SIGN UP Sign up for my newsletter and stay up-to-date on my new releases. Newsletters include links to new books, sales, freebies, bonus content, and more. I also include promo materials for free book giveaways and links to books by other authors. Newsletters are sent once a week and you are welcome to unsubscribe at any time. :) 1 RANIERO Every story needs a hero and a villain. In this story, I’m both. * * * The officer screaming at me has a piece of spinach stuck in his teeth. Or perhaps it’s lettuce. I’ve been staring at the same green vegetable wedged between his canine and a crooked incisor for fifteen minutes and I still can’t figure out what it is. His breath is oddly fruity—as if he had a strawberry vinaigrette on the salad that’s clinging to his pearly whites. “Do you hear me?” He leans in closer and I get a whiff of a nutty aroma to go with the spittle he flings at my cheek. “Are you listening to me, Valenti?” I bring my finger up to my mouth and indicate toward the teeth I’ve been staring at for the last few minutes. “You’ve got something right there.” I cluck my tongue. “Do you have any floss or anything? It’s bothering me. I can get it for you if you’d like.” The officer pulls back as though he’s been scalded with hot water. His cheeks turn a fire engine red and the vein in his forehead pops out. “Fuck you, Valenti.” “I just thought I should tell you. It’s embarrassing to have food stuck in your teeth. I can’t believe your little officer friends out there didn’t tell you.” As I shake my head, I cluck my tongue in disappointment. “You should find new friends, Officer Goodwin. Ones that will tell you when you look like an ass.” That must be where the invisible line between being a nice guy and being a jerk gets crossed. Officer Goodwin slams his hands down on the metal table between us and starts snarling insults at me. In between a diatribe about people like me and pieces of shit like me, I snap my fingers in recognition. “The Pecanberry Salad!” I announce loudly, cutting him off. “That’s what you had for lunch. That’s a good one. When I’m on a health kick and want something a little sweeter, that’s always what I order from—” “Shut the fuck up, Valenti. Jesus Christ,” he swears. “You’re here to be questioned about a murder, not to become my personal dentist.” I hold my hand out in front of me and inspect my nails. They haven’t been trimmed or buffed in a while, so they’re looking a little long. I ought to cut these soon before I actually commit the crime I’m being accused of and accidentally get DNA trapped under them. “I told you once and I’ll tell you again, I was at a school fundraiser when this alleged murder took place. You can call Bluemont Elementary school and ask them. Three of my cousin’s kids go there and—” Officer Goodwin cuts me off again. I know I did it to him once, but now he’s just being rude. “I don’t care how many of your sniveling little cousins go to Bluemont. You did it, Raniero. We know you did it. We have you on camera beating the victim in the head with a baseball bat.” I look up from examining my fingernails to meet the Officer’s eyes. “Edward, you and I both know that wasn’t me.” He gets flustered when I call him by his first name. “That’s Officer—” “—Goodwin,” I finish for him with a roll of my eyes. “We both know that if I was going to dispose of someone, I wouldn’t use a baseball bat. For starters, that’s going to cause too much blood splatter and I’m not really a clean the scene kind of guy. I’d give him a few good licks to the face and then slam his head into the concrete until he stopped breathing.” Edward Goodwin looks like he’s about to jump up and down in excitement; he probably thinks I’m admitting to a murder I did do. But the people I take care of don’t get found by the police. “If I was going to murder someone, of course,” I tack onto the end. “I’m but a humble businessman, Officer. As Bluemont Elementary might support considering I was issued a tax receipt upon my sizable donation to the school. I gave them my federal EIN and everything.” If they brought me in here because of a crime I’d actually committed, I’d have my lawyer by my side. But the victim in question is someone I’ve never had a connection to. The paperwork in the file folder on the table contains trumped-up evidence of our many meetings, but I’ve never seen the deceased in my life. They’re framing me. The problem is I don’t know why. Before Officer Goodwin can lose his cool again, the door to the interrogation room opens and reveals the Chief