Grieved Loss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 3)

by Adelaide Forrest

  “I would give almost anything to have had a few years to know my Mom. They had that, and I’m letting them forget him,” I whispered as tears slipped down my cheeks and Ryker caught them with his thumbs.

  “I’m going to be brutally honest for a second, Tesoro.”

  “When aren’t you?” I laughed.

  He chuckled, his deep voice dropping to a soft murmur as he tugged me forward and rested my forehead on his. “Chad wasn’t your mother. Your mother would have loved you, and she would have treasured every moment she had with you. Your Dad wouldn’t love her the way he does if that weren’t true.”

  “Chad used all of you as a cover for who he really was. People don’t suspect a cop with a wife and two kids at home to be a power-hungry sociopath. He never cared about the three of you, Sunshine, and I think you know that.”

  My lungs stuttered with the pain of that admission, and the fact that it wasn’t entirely true. “I know he didn’t love me. At least now I do, but the kids—”

  “Were there to keep you happy. He didn’t have to put in any effort, because you had what you wanted the most.” I winced, nodding my head and sniffling back the final tears.

  There was nothing else to be said with the weight of that as I went back to cutting his hair and made quick work of it. When I finished, he grabbed Ines off the couch and took her into her room and tucked her into bed.

  “I’ll tuck Axel in. You go shower off the itchy hair,” I told him, turning to my boy’s bedroom and knocking on the door. Even if he was only six, we had rules in place about privacy. The door couldn’t be locked, but we still knocked before entering, in case he was changing.

  So independent.

  “Where’s Ryker?” he asked as I settled into the bed with him.

  “Showering off the itch,” I said with a smile, letting him lean his head onto my shoulder as I cracked open one of his favorite books to read a chapter from. Before I started, I kissed the top of his head. “Are you happy here, Cookie Monster?”

  His little head drew back as he looked at me, “Yes. Are you happy?”

  I tucked his head back into my shoulder. “Yes, Cookie. I’m happy here.”

  And then I read my boy from a book about a wizard, feeling like my life had somehow gotten more complicated than fantasy.

  ✽✽✽

  Never had I ever been in love.

  I loved Chad, in my way, but I was never in love with him, as cliché as it sounded to my head.

  I'd finally fully and completely given myself to Ryker and forgiven him and convinced myself it was okay to not pick fights over stupid shit even though he pissed me off at times.

  He made me laugh. He made me smile. He made me real.

  And I could finally say that I was in love.

  Everything I'd felt before him hadn't been real, not now that I knew the real thing. Now that I knew I would forgive him for things I had no place forgiving. He'd stalked me. He'd taken me and my kids.

  But in the end, it led to being the happiest we had ever been.

  I was preparing for my second class of the day and tidying up the studio room while Dante lingered in the back with the donuts we'd picked up on our way that day. Because when you were happy, sometimes you just needed a fucking chocolate donut. Or when you were sad. Or pissed.

  There was never a time when a chocolate donut was inappropriate.

  When my students filled in the room, I finished my tidying and went to socialize with them. Jason came in the front door, his hands tucked into his pockets and looking entirely too obvious in his white dress shirt and slacks, with his badge fastened to his belt. I stepped forward, even knowing it put me out of Dante's sight to intercept him. "Jason," I greeted with a nervous smile. "What are you doing here?"

  "I won't waste time on small talk. I know you've remarried," he said, and I looked around as his voice dropped to a furious whisper. "I've arranged for Dante to be distracted in the back alley. I can help you." He took my hand, tugging me toward the front door, but I dug my feet in.

  "What are you talking about? I don't need help," I told him, jerking my arm back from him and fighting to resist the urge to ask how he knew about Dante. About anything.

  "Don't be ridiculous, Calla. Do you have any idea who that man is?" His gaze was too intent on mine, imploring me to see reason. "All you have to do is come with me and tell me what you know. I'll get you and the kids in witness protection, and we'll protect you. I promise you we will not let anything happen to you or those kids."

  I didn’t understand where it was coming from or how he even knew I’d gotten married. "Jason, I don't want to leave him," I told him, feeling the truth in the words. I meant it when I told myself I forgave him. That I loved him. There had been plenty of times where I might have jumped at the offer if I thought Jason could protect me, but that time had passed.

  I wouldn't leave Ryker. I wouldn't break up the family I suspected would grow sooner than later, with how often Ryker conveniently forgot to wear a condom. I wouldn't take my kids from the man they were starting to see as a father.

  "Calla!" he hissed, looking around the studio. "We don't have time for this. Just come with me."

  "I know he may not be perfect and that he may not be who you would have chosen for me. But I love him, and I won't help you put him in prison. Now, the last I knew, you could not compel a wife to testify against her husband. You and I have nothing to talk about from here on out."

  "You have to think about this," he pleaded, but my students were looking our way in curiosity and all the reassuring smiles in the world couldn't convince them there was nothing worth seeing.

  "You’re acting crazy. You need to leave. Please don't contact me again," I told him, and I turned my back on him and went to the rest of my class. Turning him away so harshly hurt, despite our differences. He was the last of my connection to the life I’d had with Chad, but it needed to be done. And I knew it was time to move on.

  I was at the front of the room when Dante darted back into the back room, eyeing it warily as he glanced around at the students who had taken their places at their mats. "Did you see anything unusual?" he asked me.

  I gave him a blank stare as I considered if I should tell him and Ryker the truth. I wanted to be honest, wanted to reassure him. But I knew Ryker well enough to know he wouldn't let it slide. He'd take away the small freedoms he'd given me if he thought someone tried to take me away from him.

  I couldn't go through that again. I couldn't become a prisoner in the life I'd just started to love.

  So, I shook my head, and I lied.

  "Nothing unusual here. Is everything alright?" I asked. He looked mildly baffled, but went back to his seat.

  It wasn't until after my class ended that I saw the text from Jason telling me to call him when I changed my mind.

  Fat fucking chance of that happening.

  Even if I had wanted to leave, Ryker would never let us go.

  Forty-Four

  Calla

  I'd been on edge since Jason approached me, reading into every little thing Ryker did as a sign of his suspicion. I did everything I could not to act any differently than normal, going to painstaking lengths to treat him no differently than I would have before my deception. There were multiple times when I considered just coming clean, but the threat of what he might do was enough to dissuade me of it quickly.

  It was inconsequential, since I'd said no. It shouldn't matter.

  But I knew it did, and the guilt of my omission haunted me.

  A few days later, Ryker was on the phone when I got out of the shower. My heart stuttered in my chest when he turned to look at me and his eyes were as cold as I'd ever seen. I froze, feeling like my life flashed before my eyes. I didn't think he'd hurt me, but that didn't mean I didn't fear what he would do if he found out I'd hidden something from him.

  But I'd made my bed, and it was too late to turn back.

  "Yeah, August, you know you're always welcome to come help," Ryker said int
o the phone, his eyes warming as his lips tipped into a smile. My breath whooshed out of me in relief, and I tugged my robe tighter around myself. "Thanks for your help," he said, stabbing the screen of his phone in frustration.

  "You and my Dad talk on the phone now?" I asked, glancing at him with a little smile. He returned it, but it wasn't as warm as I'd gotten used to.

  "Occasionally," he shrugged. I knew it shouldn't matter. My father was his father-in-law by all rights, but it just seemed weird that they would speak on the phone like that. Like I couldn't trust it. I narrowed my eyes on him suspiciously, wondering what he was up to. I'd been so preoccupied in my guilt, that it was entirely possible I'd missed Ryker's planning and scheming when I should have seen it right in front of my face.

  If he was conspiring with my father, I'd kill them both.

  "I have something to show you," Ryker grunted, tossing his cell onto the bed as he went to his nightstand. Fear pulsed again, wondering if it was the moment he confronted me about Jason. And then I wondered what I was doing in a marriage where I had to fear my husband in any way.

  Who the fuck had I become that I loved him despite that fear?

  When he handed me the folder of papers, I accepted it with my heart in my throat and flipped the lid. The Certificate of Adoption stared back at me, and I blinked in confusion before turning my head up to him. He'd filled everything out. Just the place for my signature remained empty.

  I drew in a deep breath, trying to quell the simultaneous relief that I would not be a prisoner in my home again combined with my rage that he would be so presumptuous as to even date the fucking papers. I tossed the folder onto the bed, stepping into his space and placing my hands on his chest. "It's too soon," I said, staring up at him as I tried to make him understand. "We only just got married. They need more time to adjust before we throw this at them too."

  "They're coping just fine," Ryker warned with a growl despite my attempts to keep the conversation civil.

  "I don't think they're ready for this," I said, tossing a hand at the folder on the bed. "I think they need to see us together as a family more before we make this official in that way. Their father has only been gone for a year, Ryker," I murmured. "I know Axel puts on a good show, and I know he adores you, but he idolized Chad. He deserves to take the time to cope with that loss before we pressure him to move on too suddenly."

  "Chad was not a good man to be idolized," Ryker growled, turning and leaving me in the center of the room as he went back to the nightstand.

  “I didn’t say that he should be, but Axel doesn’t know that.”

  He grabbed a second folder, and he tossed it onto the bed so that photos spilled free. I opened it, dreading the contents. Nothing good ever came of the photos Ryker took.

  In them, Chad stood looking stern and serious with Matteo and Simon, with Ryker, over and over again. "What is all this?" I asked.

  "He made evidence disappear for Matteo. Covered up crimes and murders and pocketed money, all so he could benefit off the suffering of the people he swore to protect. I may not be a good man, but I'm loyal to the people I pledge myself to, and not just to myself."

  The money Matteo passed to Chad in photo after photo couldn't be denied, but even if I didn't have the photos, I would have believed Ryker. He'd given me no reason to doubt his word, even if I couldn't trust him in other ways.

  "Okay," I whispered, biting my lip as I tried to think of how to explain things to Ryker. That my ex-husband being a criminal changed nothing about the way the kids perceived him, or that they deserved time to grieve their father properly, regardless of what kind of man he was.

  It wasn't for Chad. It was for the kids.

  Ryker pressed on, ignorant of the fact that he wasn't making any progress in his attempt to persuade me. "At least I don't hide behind a badge and pretend to be a good man. I'm a criminal. A murderer, but I have been honest with you from day one about what I am, Calla. You made your choice."

  "Did I?" I asked him. "Because I don't remember you giving me a choice."

  His face hardened, and he took a step toward me. I held up a hand, for once putting my foot down. I wouldn't let him use sex to coerce me into agreeing with what he wanted. "I don't remember you telling me no when I made you mine, Sunshine."

  "Sex is not consent to dating. It isn't consent to marriage, and you didn't even let me make a choice about that either. You just steamroll your way through me and what I want, and for whatever fucking reason I tolerate it," I snapped, running a hand through my wet hair as I shoved it back from my face. "I've forgiven you for everything you've done to me, but this is where I draw the line."

  His chest rumbled with the threat of a growl. "He was a shitty father."

  "He was," I agreed. "A shitty father and a shitty husband. But he was still their father, Ryker. You cannot change that, no matter how many papers you try to make me sign. If you want them to move forward knowing that you love them and that you are the only father they need, then you will give them time to come to that on their own terms. Not yours."

  "I want all of you bound to me in every way. I won't let you cling to his memory when you're my wife. You sleep in my bed. You take my cock every night—"

  "You just can't stop pushing, can you? I give a little and you just want to keep taking more and more!" I snapped. "When will it ever be enough?"

  "When you're mine in every way."

  "I'm already your wife, Ryker! For fuck's sake. This is not about me or you or even Chad. It is about you doing right by those kids. You want to be their damn father? Then act like one and put their needs first. That is what a real father does. Not throwing a tantrum because he can't shove adoption papers at his wife's kids to make him feel like the ready-made family he inherited is really his."

  Ryker glared at me for a moment before he gathered the folders off the bed. "Fine, Calla. You want to let Axel come to me when he's ready for me to adopt him?"

  I nodded, staring at him like he might snap. He was so close to the edge, balancing just before it felt like he might dive off the cliff.

  He returned the nod, going for the bedroom door before he turned to stare back at me with a cruel smirk on his face. "Then I hope you're ready to deal with the alternative."

  I swallowed. "What alternative?"

  "You'll find out soon enough," he grunted ominously, stepping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him. I stared at it for a moment before I crawled into bed, feeling like I'd cursed myself by admitting I loved him—even if it was only in my head.

  Love gave people power over you, and the last thing Ryker Fiore needed was more control.

  Forty-Five

  Ryker

  I slammed the car door behind me, making my way into Murphy's. I knew the guys had my back, knew they'd cover my ass, but they kept their distance. Letting it look like I walked in alone.

  Like I wasn't ready to throttle Antonio for being so fucking stupid that he got caught tailing Murphy's side piece.

  I'd taught the goddamn idiot better than that.

  The Maserati beeped behind me as the doors locked, and the front door to the pub opened when one of Murphy's men shoved it open for me. He was quick to get out of my way as I thundered through.

  What the presence of Matteo and his men didn't soothe of my questionable ability to walk out, the twin guns strapped to my chest inside my shirt made up for it. I hated guns. They were the way lazy men killed, but I couldn't fight my way out of Murphy's without them if it came to that.

  If Murphy hadn't requested me specifically, if he hadn't used Antonio's phone to call me directly, I might have feared for my life more. But he wanted something from me. He'd fixated on Matteo's famed Executioner at our meeting with him the week before.

  He sat in the same place he always sat, staring up at me with a satisfied smirk on his face. In the corner of the room, Antonio sat in a chair with Sean's gun pressed to his head. He'd clearly been beaten and looked worse for wear, but he was a tough kid, des
pite being only twenty-two. He'd heal up and get back to work, I didn't doubt that.

  "I am not a fan of having my woman stalked," Murphy said, pressing his hands to the table as he stood. His security looked uncomfortable with him getting closer to me as he walked around the edge of the table and stood directly in front of me. "Especially by a lackey at that. You could have at least done it personally."

  I shrugged, keeping my face impassive as I stared back at him. "I was too busy keeping tabs on you to stalk your piece of ass."

  Sean grunted from the corner, his face twisting in a grimace. I knew I walked the line, knew that one wrong move meant Murphy would order his men to put a bullet in my brain. But I wasn't a sheep, and I refused to act like one for anyone.

  I'd learned a long time ago that the best way to survive in this world was to command respect wherever I went.

  Murphy didn't glare, just stared at me in shock before his slimy face twisted into a smile and he slapped his leg as he laughed. "You've got balls. I'll give you that."

  I scoffed, listening to the sound of Calla calling me Meatball on repeat in my head. Thanks to my Sunshine, I couldn’t hear the word ball without thinking of her antics.

  "There's no point in pretending we don't monitor our city. You live in Matteo's turf. You operate in it. That makes you his business, and he protects his interests in business," I said, staring him down. I hated having such a slime ball so close to me, knowing that he would take part in sex trafficking soon enough, if he didn't already. I'd wanted to kill him even before that, just because he coerced women into his bed through paying off their debts.

  "I have to say, I expected someone a little less articulate of Matteo's famed Executioner," he commented, leaning back on the table with his arms crossed. "A mindless killer, someone who spoke with his fists rather than words." I smiled at him in response, not bothering to answer. "I didn't expect someone so intelligent."

  "Making assumptions is your mistake. Preconceived notions of people only blind you to their truths."