The Swan Princess

  The Swan Princess

  A Benedetti Mafia World Prologue

  Natasha Knight

  Copyright © 2020 by Natasha Knight

  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.

  About This Book

  At a glamorous masquerade ball in an opulent mansion the elite gather to celebrate the introduction of one of their own to society.

  * * *

  But the guests of this party aren’t all knights in shining armor.

  * * *

  And tonight, Lucia DeMarco and Salvatore Benedetti will meet in a chance encounter one year before the contract that makes her his is fulfilled.

  * * *

  A version of The Swan Princess was originally published in Dark Fairy Tales: A Midnight Dynasty Anthology. It is a short prequel into the Benedetti Mafia world.

  Contents

  1. Salvatore

  2. Lucia

  3. Salvatore

  4. Lucia

  5. Salvatore

  With This Ring Sample

  Also by Natasha Knight

  Thank you

  About Natasha Knight

  1

  Salvatore

  “You look as boring as ever,” my brother says, stalking into my room in his costume looking like he just walked right out of hell. “Why not actually try to have some fun tonight for a change?”

  I keep my eyes on my reflection as I tie my bowtie. “Tonight isn’t about having fun. It’s about showing up. Showing our faces.”

  “Not my face,” he says, ever flippant. “You’re the one they want to see. The new heir to the Benedetti throne and all.”

  “Get over it already.”

  He picks up the bottle of whiskey and pours himself some, watching me as I adjust my tie, then turn to face him.

  “After what’s happened, the other families will be watching. Looking for a weakness. Any weakness. I need you by my side.”

  “You don’t need anything, Brother. You have everything you could possibly want.”

  “You mean everything you could possibly want.” I shake my head, want to change the subject. “You’re really going to wear that?”

  “You bet.” He swallows the whiskey down.

  “Suit yourself.”

  I see us reflected side-by-side in the mirror. Brothers, but you wouldn’t know it at first glance given my dark hair and olive skin and Dominic’s lighter coloring. But it’s important we’re seen together. United. The two remaining Benedetti brothers.

  Although it’s no secret that Dominic hates me so when I told him to clean himself up because he’d be coming with me tonight, I didn’t expect him to listen.

  Giving a nod, I reach for my shoulder holster and slip it on. Dominic’s already got his under his jacket. I don’t anticipate trouble, but Siren’s Point will be crawling with mobsters in their Sunday best tonight. I’m not taking any chances.

  “I hear Anna Hollister was a friend of Lucia DeMarco way back when,” Dominic says.

  I know what he’s doing. Stirring the pot. It’s what he’s best at. Fucking with other people’s lives and walking away when the shit hits the fan.

  “Did you?” I adjust my ring, pretend to study the Benedetti family crest for a minute.

  “Do you have any idea what the fuck a coming out party is anyway?”

  I chuckle at that. “An excuse for rich people to show off just how rich they are?” I turn to face him, brush something off his shoulder before fixing him in a stare. “It’s also a message for you to keep your hands off this particular girl. Anna Hollister is off limits, understand? I don’t want trouble with the Hollister family.”

  He rolls his eyes. Doesn’t even hide it. “Well, let’s hope she has some cute friends then.”

  I grin, pat him on the back. “That’s the spirit. Ready?”

  “Let’s go.”

  The ball is being held at the Hollister estate. Although we don’t do business with the family, I saw the guest list. The cream of the crop will be attending tonight’s gala.

  More like the cream of the crap.

  It’s good to show our faces in this crowd. Remind them the Benedetti family is still here, united and stronger than ever.

  My Bugatti is waiting for us on the driveway.

  “Mind if I drive?” Dominic asks.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I toss him the keys. “Don’t hit anything.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of putting a dent in your baby.”

  We climb in and he adjusts his seat. I watch him for a minute. My younger brother. My angry younger brother. He doesn’t make it easy to love him, that’s for sure. Sergio felt the same way.

  Never mind that I know something about Dominic I shouldn’t know. Something that would kill him if he ever found out. And whenever he’s a dick—which is often—I just have to try to remember it.

  Dominic hits the gas like he’s on a racing circuit and we screech down the long driveway through the tall gates of my house toward Siren’s Point, leaving the two SUVs of soldiers who will wait closer to the party in case there’s trouble in the dust.

  “Who gave you a fucking driver’s license?” I ask.

  “The great state of Pennsylvania.”

  “I bet that’s a decision they regret.”

  He flips me off and we drive in silence for the next half hour until we get to the guarded entrance of the estate where security is checking names off their list.

  I look at the house, at all the lights, hear the buzz already coming from beyond the gates.

  My brother’s looking too and smiling. This is where Dominic shines. He’s mostly a dick but he can be charming when he wants to be and I have no doubt he’ll find the cutest of Anna’s friends, maybe a pair of them, and have some fun tonight.

  I shake my head at the thought. He thinks I’ve got it all. I wish I could be as carefree as he is.

  He rolls down his window and greets the man with the clipboard. Our names are checked against the list, and a few minutes later, we are welcomed onto the property.

  We drive toward the house and reach the circular drive to stop behind a row of limousines where guests are unloading. Valets, most of whom double as security guards, dot the place like ants and already I see a lot of fire power.

  I grab our masks and hand Dominic his. I slip mine on. It’s simple. A half-mask Phantom of the Opera style. Dominic, well, as much as he’ll complain about having to get dressed up, he’s gone all out. I watch him draw the elaborate gold skull mask down over his face, the wide grin so appropriate.

  “I don’t know how you’re going to get any girls with that thing. You’ll scare them half to death.”

  “You’d be surprised, Brother.”

  But all joking is set aside as we climb out of the Bugatti and he hands the keys to the waiting valet.

  Dominic gives me a glance. He’s noting each of the other families in attendance of this masquerade ball too. I wonder if the masquerade was Anna’s idea. A young woman’s fantasy when they still believe they’re the princess and their knight in shining armor is around the corner, just galloping along on his horse to rescue her from her boring life.

  It won’t be too long now that she figures out there’s no such thing as a knight in shining armor.

  “You should have worn a full-face mask,” Dominic says to me, patting me on the back. “That thing isn’t doing anything to hide your resting dick face.”

  I flip him off and adjust the mask, but think maybe he’s right.

  I take it all in, the costumes ranging
from the over-the-top outrageous to the minimal and everything in between. The place lit up like we’re entering another world. The front doors stand open and I hear the sound of a Soprano singing something unrecognizable but pretty. Mom would have liked that, I think.

  I look up to the second floor of the mansion and take stock of the security guards among the couples taking in the view of the vast, and, I have to admit, impressive gardens. Judging by my count Hollister isn’t taking any chances.

  We pass a group of women and my brother gives them a sly grin. They’re attractive, I’ll give them that. Not my type though.

  Not that it matters what my type is. My princess has been locked away in her tower for four years now. Just one more to go before I ride up and claim her.

  Except that I’m not the hero of her story.

  I’m her monster.

  “Maybe this party won’t prove to be such a bore after all,” Dominic says before we’ve even made it into the living room. He breaks off toward the women, choosing the most attractive one—obviously—and sweeping two flutes of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray on his way.

  The inside of this place is a tribute to opulence and excess. It’s beautifully done. Funny thing, though, when you grow up with money, you can always spot those who didn’t, no matter their status in life now. There’s a greediness about them. Something in their eyes as they ogle everything in sight. It’s about old money vs. new money and has nothing to do with how that money was acquired.

  I don’t miss the eyes that follow me or the whispers in my wake as I head through the throngs of masked men and women toward the bar at the other end of the room where I hope to drink myself to oblivion before boredom kills me.

  2

  Lucia

  I quietly slip into the bedroom and lock the door behind me, my heart beating fast at the excitement of it. Which, when I think about it, is a little pathetic. But I need a few minutes alone. After four years locked away at that nun’s school, I admit, tonight is a little overwhelming.

  Not that anyone here knows who I am. I wonder even if they saw my face if they’d recognize me. Remember me. Most likely they’ve forgotten that I ever existed at all.

  I was the story four years ago when the war between my family and the Benedetti family was won and not by us. The same year that twisted contract was signed, and my fate sealed.

  Which is why I’m still pinching myself that I made it tonight. The nuns keep a close eye on me. They don’t want to take a chance that I’ll slip away because even they, in all their holy bullshit, know the Benedetti’s wouldn’t care one way or the other that they’re devoted servants of god if they lost me.

  But what servant of god does the bidding of the freaking mafia, anyway?

  I pick up the half-full bottle of champagne I snagged and drink straight from it. I try to remind myself of this when I feel divided about what I’m going to do tonight because if I succeed, they will face Franco Benedetti’s wrath. It’s not like the nuns are horrible to me, they’re not, but it doesn’t make me any less a prisoner.

  And besides, I’m days away from turning twenty. I deserve to have a little fun.

  I admit I’m a little jealous of Anna and her coming out party the likes of which I’ve never seen. I won’t even have a freaking cupcake to celebrate my birthday with the nuns.

  Abstinence.

  They can have it.

  I peel my mask off and switch on the light. I’m upstairs in one of the bedrooms. I’m going to guess it’s not one of the family’s rooms because it’s too neutral and a quick glance in the large closet only shows a few unused hangers inside. A guest room.

  My room at the all-girls Catholic school is not even as big as the closet. Or as nice.

  It just makes me hate Salvatore Benedetti and the Benedetti family that much more.

  The Hollister estate is amazing. Luxury like I’ve never seen before is center of mind everywhere I turn, even in this unused room with its rich curtains, carpets and thick duvet on the canopy bed. And the people in attendance, it’s something to take in. Money to excess and the beauty and power that go with it.

  I only got the invitation because Anna and I were friends before my life was turned upside down. She’s one of the few people I keep in touch with. I’m not talking to my family. They’re a bunch of traitors, all of them.

  I drop down onto the edge of the bed, bouncing once, remembering what comfort felt like. Some of the feathers on my dress float then fall to the carpeted floor and I run my hands over the long skirt of feathers. It’s beautiful. I have Anna to thank for this too. I couldn’t afford to pay for a dress like this anymore.

  My arms, chest and shoulders are covered in gold dust and the mask hides most of my face. I wish I didn’t have to wear it but it’s the only way I can be here. I can’t take a chance that someone recognizes me.

  Forgetting about the wings at the back of my dress, I almost lie down. I just barely catch myself before crushing them. Even if I can’t lie down at least it’s quiet in here. I wonder if all their bedrooms have been soundproofed because I don’t even hear murmurs of the party outside.

  A small ding startles me and I turn to find the clock against the wall announcing the hour. Eleven-thirty.

  My heart falls.

  I expire in thirty minutes.

  Well, I need to be at the front doors in thirty minutes ready to head back to the nunnery. It gives me a strange satisfaction to call the school that. At exactly midnight, a car will come for me and I’ll be sent back to the nunnery to serve out the rest of my sentence.

  One more year before the bastard comes for me.

  Salvatore Benedetti.

  The man who owns me.

  I raise the bottle like a toast at the thought of him and drink what’s left in it because tonight feels like a victory, if a bittersweet one. If he only knew where I was. What I planned. Because fuck him. I’ve been humiliated, traded like cattle, poked and prodded and locked away since I was sixteen years old to await my fate.

  Tonight, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get the goods he thinks he owns. The thing he stole.

  Part of me is tempted to run away. To find some normal clothes in one of these rooms and change out of my swan costume and just walk off the property. It would be easy to do. But I made Anna a promise that I wouldn’t do that, and I’ll keep it because I don’t want to get her in trouble. If her father knew I was here, that she helped to arrange my escape, well, I think he’d kill her and help the Benedetti bastards hunt me down.

  The minute hand moves with a soft tick.

  I get up because I don’t have a moment to waste. I walk to the window to look outside over the grounds.

  Guests have spilled out of the house and onto the manicured garden below drinking champagne, talking in the soft glow of lanterns that I’d swear are little fairies lighting up the trees. Everyone is talking to someone. Two by two or little groups, some couples even kissing—and more—in dark nooks.

  I sigh. I desperately want to join them, but I don’t know a soul. And they can’t know I’m here or the Benedetti family will rain down its wrath.

  And so, I pick up my mask, adjust it to cover my face and am about to walk back out into the hallway when I see another door, this one built into the wall so unless you look at it at exactly the right angle, you’d miss the cut-out altogether.

  I go to it, study the wallpaper closely. It’s beautiful. I’ve seen a painting similar to the scene but can’t remember the name of the artist. The nuns would frown upon that. So would Franco Benedetti. He’s paying a fortune to educate me, I guess so I don’t bore his son. Not that conversation will be the sort of entertainment he’ll be expecting, I’m sure.

  The Swan Maiden. That’s what the painting is called. Inspired by the fairy tale.

  The thought sends a chill through me and, without thinking, I reach out to caress the feathers of the beautiful swan and presto. There’s a bounce like a spring and the door opens.

  I smi
le at the surprise. It’s meant to be, I think.

  And I’m not surprised the Hollister house would have a secret passageway or two. The opposite.

  I peer into the short corridor that leads to a staircase where I can feel a slight breeze. There’s no light switch but I can see light around the corner at the bottom of the stairs. I look behind me, thinking I should go back. I should close the door to this secret passage and walk out into the hallway and do the safe thing.

  But then I see the clock again. Twenty-five minutes.

  I don’t let myself think about it. I take hold of the metal railing and make my way down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible by walking on the balls of my feet which isn’t easy in these heels.

  The staircase curves and twists and I follow it, growing a little anxious when I have to feel my way through a long, dark corridor, but before I can panic, I’m at the end of it and I see where the light is coming in around the door. This one has a doorknob, no spring.

  I put my hand on it, part of me hoping it’s locked so I can run back upstairs and be the good girl I’m expected to be but another part, the part I like more, turns the doorknob and I’m elated when it opens onto an unlit patio beyond which is a beautiful, small lake surrounded by trees.

  The best part? It’s deserted. And apart from a hum of noise of the guests in the main garden, it’s quiet.

  A secret garden.

  I cross the patio, reach down to slip off my sandals and hold onto them by their straps before stepping onto soft, cool grass that tickles my feet. I walk toward the lake, hurrying as I take in the lights in the trees around me, realizing they’re fireflies.

  I laugh out loud at this. It’s been years since I’ve seen them. My sister, Isabella, and I would chase them, trying to capture them in jars with holes we punched into the lids when we were little. I turn a circle looking up at the sky and the beauty of it all. It looks magical, and so perfect I want to cry.