Never Say Love Read online

  Never Say Love

  Never Say Love

  Sarah Elizabeth Ashley

  © Copyright Sarah Elizabeth Ashley 2014

  Never Say Love

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Sarah Elizabeth Ashley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, nor translated into a machine language, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are a product of the author’s imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and organisations is purely coincidental.

  Condition of sale

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover Credits

  Male model © GooDAura - Fotolia.com

  Female model © Coka - Bigstockphoto

  Cover design Helen Williams. AllBookedOut.Com

  CONTENTS

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other works by

  Sarah Elizabeth Ashley

  Freeing Alex - Part One of the Alexandra Drake Series

  Loving Alex - Part Two of the Alexandra Drake Series

  Eternally Alex - Part Three of the Alexandra Drake Series

  Acknowledgements

  There are so many people that have helped with Never Say Love, so many that have supported me, listened to my ramblings or simply just been there to offer a hug.

  Aconi’s Angels (aka The Porn Patrol) again, all of you have all offered so much encouragement, as have all of my friends. I really couldn’t have done this without you. There are too many to name individually, but you all know who you are.

  Along the journey I have made many, many new good friends, some have become close, and I hope they will remain lifelong friends. We’ve laughed together, wept together and a few of us have even shared a few drinks. What a truly amazing experience it has been.

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing,

  and be nothing.

  –Aristotle

  Playlist

  Eric Prydz — Pjanoo

  Cascada — What Hurts The Most

  Utah Saints — Something Good 08

  Rihanna — Don't Stop The Music

  Flo Rida featuring T-Pain — Low

  Lady Gaga — Just Dance

  Sinéad O'Connor — Nothing Compares 2U

  Enya — Only Time

  facebook.com/SarahElizabethAshley67

  Twitter: @SarahEAshley1

  Website: sarahelizabethashley.com

  Never Say Love – Benito’s story

  Those of you who have read The Alexandra Drake Series will have already met Benito, the super sexy Italian security professional. This is his story and is set five years before the introduction of Alex Drake of The Alexandra Drake Series.

  Never Say Love has been written following reader requests to know more about Benito, where he came from and what sort of person he really is. I hope that I have filled some gaps and given you a sexy character with a dark and traumatic past.

  Prologue

  Benito Pascal Abelli, born 24th April 1978 is the only son and eldest child of Franco and the late Sophia, a pretty woman taken from this world far too soon, missed every single day by her beloved husband, Franco, and her children.

  Benito and his younger sister, Adrianna, had a wonderful childhood—everything associated with a good and happy upbringing. Their parents, being very firm yet kind, apart from Franco, who insisted that to spare the rod was to spoil a child, a philosophy that Benito, at the tender age of 12, did not wholly agree with.

  Growing up in Tuscany, Benito could not have wanted for anything more. Showered with love from his parents, he and his sister were spoiled in every way but materially, although having said that, they wanted for nothing.

  At the age of 15, tragedy struck as his beloved mother Sophia was taken one day whilst he and Adrianna, who was only ten-years-old at the time, were at school. It was the end of a devastating illness claiming his beautiful mother and worst still, depriving him of the chance to say “goodbye”.

  Benito and his sister wept for days while their father, the well built and incredibly masculine man, showed his softer side. He comforted his family through their grief, himself wrecked by the loss of Sophia, the only woman he had ever known in every way.

  On the day of her funeral, Franco vowed to never love again, and to this day he has never touched, kissed with meaning, and certainly never lay with another, a vow he will honour until the end of his days when he will lay with Sophia once again.

  On their own, the three of them did their best to carry on as a regular family unit with Franco at the helm. Having been spoiled by Sophia, he found himself having to learn how to manage a household, as well as his successful security business. A company that, prior to losing his wife, had taken him away for weeks on end to remote parts of the world—his remit, to take a group of well-equipped and trained men to sort out the problems of others. Yet, at home in Tuscany, his work was as any other security firm, providing everything from front-of-house personnel to close protection. The other side of the organisation was incredibly profitable, a part of the business not advertised, it supplied a full on, yet small, private army using the skills that Franco and his elite team gained whist serving with COMSUBIN, a Special Forces unit of the Italian Navy.

  Franco had faithfully promised Sophia that Benito would not be joining the forces. She hated every second that Franco was away and always looked tired and drawn when he returned. He hated seeing her like that and, on her death bed, promised that he would not send their son away—what he didn’t promise was that Benito would head the family business as soon as he was old enough and “qualified” to do so.

  That happened on Benito’s 26th birthday, that day he carried out his first job from start to finish on his own, started and completed in a day. The day his sister’s then boyfriend was taught a lesson. It was to be the last lesson he would ever learn, following the last meal he would ever eat, and the last breath he would ever take. The lesson he learned: You don’t mess with our family. You do not take my sister’s maidenhead until you are married to her, or, at the very least, committed to her and certainly never against her will.

  Benito had lured the young man out on his own. It had been like leading a lamb to slaughter and —he did lead a lamb to slaughter. After a few drinks, he had offered the young man a ride home; his j
ourney deviated to a remote area. After a few choice words and a struggle, Benito, who was much bigger than the bastard, had finally received the confession he needed, the confirmation that Adrianna’s innocence had been taken against her will.

  Dispatching the young man had been quick and clean, disposing of the body had been a messy affair.

  Franco knew what had happened. His best security employees had been sent to the site of the bloody deed, ordered to cast the evidence far and wide. To make sure that the pieces could never be put together again, ever.

  Benito’s actions were never spoken. Only his father and the operatives involved in the cleanup were aware of what had happened. The young man of 23 years simply disappeared. Adrianna had guessed what had happened—she may have been a girl, but she knew exactly what her father, and brother, were capable of. She never forgave them for what they did. Despite her not wanting the cruel advances of that boyfriend, the last thing she would wish was for him to pay the ultimate price for his misdemeanours. Leaving the family home, she went to live with a distant relative in the southern part of the country. Franco maintained contact with her on a basic and formal level, but Benito had not spoken to her since that wretched day.

  In the twelve months since Benito proved himself to his father, he had taken on more and more responsibility within the business. He’d also spent a great deal of time with his father’s cousin, Roberto, and his wife, Gia, in London. Franco sent him out of the way to avoid any repercussions that may come about as a result of Benito’s venture into the darker side of the family business, not that there was any need, for the young man concerned, or any part of him, was never found.

  Chapter 1

  It had been a year since Benito proved himself and as he stood in his father’s office. “It’s yours son, this is all yours—I can retire now.” Franco announced as he sat back in his chair. Benito was standing at the other side of the desk, stunned by the announcement his father made. Retiring? This was news to him!

  Looking up toward his son, who maintained his stunned silence, astounded by his father’s announcement, Franco rubbed his fingers over his chin. “I’m here if you want me to help, but I’m stepping down as of tomorrow morning.” Twirling a pen, he studied his handsome boy. Everyone said that Benito looked like his father. Indeed, they both had very dark hair and strong masculine features.

  Franco stopped twirling his pen and began tapping it on his desk, a thoughtful look across his face as he gave out his instructions.

  “I want you to go to the UK and expand the operation.” Franco grumbled, “Get some new contracts over there. It’s doing well, but it could be better, much better. I’ve sent Isabella on ahead to see how things are and collate information, but I want you over there in the next few weeks.” He smiled broadly at his son, a beautiful smile on such a handsome face, as he continued to explain how he wanted the British business to grow and how Isabella, his efficient, if periodically officious, Personal Assistant was there and had already reported back that there were areas for improvement and many businesses they could approach. In short, Franco explained that he wanted to monopolise the security business in London, and he didn’t care whose toes he trod on to do it, he wanted the UK operation to be big and profitable.

  The older man was a huge and very well built for his age, still incredibly well toned and strong, he could easily take on a younger man—and win. Dressed in a silver grey suit and white shirt, no tie, he was the epitome of Italian style and looks with his beautiful olive skin, dark hair and with eyes as black as coal. Yes, he frequently received advances from women, who were always shunned, for Franco only ever had or required one love, Sophia.

  The young Benito stood in his father’s office as if on ceremony in front of the huge oak desk. Despite being the image of his father, he was not quite as big. Dressed in an expensive, well-cut black suit and a white open neck shirt, he waited for the argument. He feared his father, nobody crossed Franco or his family, and Benito certainly knew better than to question any decision his father had made—but this? He didn’t want to go to the UK.

  “But Dad, I don’t know...,” he mumbled in his deep husky voice as he looked directly at his father.

  Whilst he stood in awe of his father, the man who had shown and taught him everything he now knew about the family firm, there were times when he did not agree with his decisions and this was one of those times.

  Throughout the years since Sophia had passed, Franco had taught his son how to fight, how to negotiate on the purchase of certain arms, and how to control the men that formed the army of security professionals employed by Franco and now, jointly with himself.

  “Son, you must go, you have to. I’m too old for this now. Benito, I’m 59,” his voice trailed off slightly. “I want to enjoy life a bit. I’ll still advise you if you need me to, I’ll always be here—heaven knows your mother will haunt me if I don’t look after you and guide you and Adrianna, but I need to step down,” shaking his head he looked at his son, “this is a young man’s game.”

  Shuffling through a stack of papers on his desk, he purposely avoided eye contact with Benito. “First thing tomorrow you will sit here, the papers are in order. It should be an easy day for you. You can hit the ground running.” When he received no answer, Franco looked up and observed the strained look on his son’s face, the younger man shaking his head.

  Ignoring the non-spoken pleas of his obvious desire not to take over, he continued his lecture of what he expected from his only son.

  “The UK operation has got to expand. This has to be your first job. It’s all set up, you know it is—it could just do so much more!” Standing, Franco walked from behind his desk and paced his office. “You can stay with my cousin, Roberto, or we can arrange for you to stay in that hotel of Maggie’s until you get an apartment. You remember James from last year?” Franco asked. Benito answered with a sideways look and a nod, shaking his head, a sullen look on his face. God, what had he done to deserve this? To be banished to London!

  Franco continued, ignoring Benito’s look. “Well, he manages the hotel; if you’d rather stay there, I’ll have Isabella arrange it for you. Then you can get yourself sorted, rent a place or something.” Franco shrugged dismissively flapping his hand. Looking towards his son again, he shook his head. He’d always hated having to deal with the teenage sullen years, the awkwardness he’d received from both of his children as they grew, the look on Benito’s face brought it all back to him, bloody teenagers!

  “But dad…” Benito protested.

  Franco’s face hardened as he looked up. “No Benito,” he spoke firmly, “my mind is made up. You are going to the UK, and you will work to expand the business.” He half laughed. “Have a good time while you’re there and please, try to find a wife! I want grandkids before I’m too old to enjoy them!” He winked and smiled. “This place runs itself, and if anything major goes wrong, I’m here, and they can always come and find me at home. Anyway, with the technology we now have, you can run a business from anywhere in the world. Can’t you?” Franco frowned.

  Franco, fearful of technology and computers, glanced at the closed laptop on his desk. Benito followed his gaze, the thing had never been opened; he doubted his father even knew how to turn it on! Maybe it was time to take over, to head the business, to grow the UK operation and develop what was already there. Hell, he spoke fluent English just like his parents, and didn’t the British girls love an Italian accent? Why not? A feint smile crossed his lips as he thought of all the entertaining he could do! Yes, maybe it would be good for a change.

  Franco smiled, his beautifully shaped mouth turning into a broad grin. “So, you’re up for spending the next few weeks here and then go to the UK? Go during the summer, the winters are crap.” He laughed, “But, I’m telling you, you really need to step up the operation over there. I’ll have Isabella set some interviews up to find a P.A for you, you’ll need a decent girl to sort you out,” he smiled, “keep you organised; I know what your ad
ministrative skills are like, non-existent! And, you really do need to think about a wife!”

  Walking over to the window of his dad’s office, Benito sighed, his hands in his pockets he stood there, looking down at the street below. “Never marrying dad, you know that. I’ll never marry,” he mumbled.

  Franco shook his head at his son, turned and slapped him in a fatherly fashion on the back. “Whatever. If your mother was here it would be a different story.”

  “Dad!” Benito shouted, spinning around quickly, facing his father his face hardened, “If mum was here, everything would be different, wouldn’t it? Adrianna wouldn’t have got involved with that bastard and then she would never have disowned me. I wouldn’t have done what I had to do; I wouldn’t have got involved with all that shit, would I?”

  He watched his father sit back down and swivel in his chair, he rested his head in his hand, his elbow propped on the desk. “What’s done is done son. Adrianna could have backed away from him before it got to that. She had the choice. I don’t agree with what he did, but he needed to be dealt with. What you did was only what any decent brother would have done. We’ve always looked after our own, and we always will, I hope. But, to do that you need to produce offspring—unless there’s something about you—something that you’re not telling me?” Franco looked up at his son, a single eyebrow raised as he questioned his son’s sexuality.

  Benito’s face hardened, staring at his father. “I love women, just not the same one all of the time! As far as that bastard is concerned, he shouldn’t have done it… end of! Anyway, it’s past, and I’m not arguing with you over it.” He knew better than to get into a fight with his father and had started to resolve himself. After his father questioning his sexuality, maybe it was time to spend time away from Franco. Yes, he decided, he’d welcome the opportunity to spend the summer in England. Maybe he could turn it into a fun trip. The more he thought about it, the more the idea grew on him. Weren’t English girls supposed to be lively? Well, from the conversations he’d overheard his father’s cousins, Ramiro and Roberto having, he’d certainly got that impression.