Detroit Mafia Box Set Books 1-3 (Detroit Mafia Romance)

by Tami Lund

  The chant made no sense, and yet she hadn’t stopped repeating it in her head since they pulled away from the curb and drove out of Gino’s neighborhood.

  “No way,” Antonio said, bolting upright in his seat and scanning the dark, quiet area.

  “What are you looking for?” Phoebe asked.

  “Thugs with a vendetta. Against me.” He grabbed her arm when she reached for the door handle. “Get the hell back in this car. We need to go farther away. Like Alaska.”

  “Not yet,” she said, shaking off his hand and climbing out of the car. “Come on.”

  She started toward the motel but paused when someone called out, “Phoebe. Antonio.”

  She turned toward the direction of the voice and grinned.

  “That’s the widest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen,” he said, staring at her. “Is this all a ruse? Did you deliberately drag me to this dark, empty parking lot so you could off me yourself? Because honestly, the last time we spoke, I didn’t get the impression you liked me very much.”

  She rolled her eyes and tugged him forward. “Shut up and come on.” She led him toward a massive home on wheels parked in the back of the lot. It was so new it was shining despite the darkness.

  A woman stood next to it.

  “Margot?” Antonio glanced at Phoebe.

  She couldn’t help grinning like the freaking Cheshire cat.

  “You…you followed through with my plan?”

  “Sort of,” Phoebe admitted, leading him toward the Winnebago and his ex sister-in-law. “We obviously had to improvise when we suspected Gino was on to us.”

  “What? How did you know?” he asked.

  “We’ll explain once we’re inside and on our way,” she said.

  “We, like you’re part of this equation?”

  “Just get in,” Phoebe said, giving him a push from behind. She caught his wince. “Are you okay? Did Gino hurt you?”

  He dropped onto the couch behind the driver’s seat while pressing his hand to his abdomen. “Not too bad. It’s just a little tender is all. Are you guys really following through with the plan?”

  “Hi, Uncle Antonio.” He turned his head and his eyes widened when Nina waved to him from where she was strapped into a chair across the aisle from him.

  “You have Nina,” he blurted.

  “Of course we do,” Phoebe said while she rummaged around in her purse. “No way in hell we were going to leave her behind.” She paused. “Or you.” She offered him a couple of Tylenol and pointed at a bottle of water nestled in the armrest.

  He popped the pills and chased them with water, his gaze never leaving her face. Luckily, it was dark, so he couldn’t see her blush.

  She really was doing this. She was walking away from everything to run away with him.

  The vehicle lurched forward as Margot gave it some gas and maneuvered the behemoth contraption onto the road and headed toward the highway.

  No going back now. Not that Phoebe ever planned to, although dressing up like a paramedic and hovering around outside a mob boss’s house was certainly enough to make one reconsider such a dangerous plan. If Antonio hadn’t been inside, if she hadn’t been worried for his life, she might very well have talked herself out of doing this.

  Her life had finally been on track. And she was giving it all up for a guy.

  Not just some guy; a guy who technically was a criminal.

  Was being the key word.

  He was also Antonio, and yeah, she’d fallen in love with the guy.

  “Actually,” Antonio said, “I assumed you were the one we were leaving behind.”

  Her cheeks heated even more while she eyed his water. It might cool her down. “Yeah, well, plans changed.”

  He leaned back against the couch and sighed. “Okay, explain. Tell me everything.”

  “Just what you said,” Margot called out from the driver’s seat. “We followed through with your plan.”

  Antonio asked, “Yeah, but how did you know Gino was on to us?”

  “We didn’t,” Phoebe said. “But after you left, we talked some more and decided we needed a backup plan.”

  “God bless brilliant women.”

  She chuckled. “So we called the detective.”

  “Proctor?” Antonio asked.

  “I think he might have orgasmed when I offered to tell him everything I knew,” Margot said over her shoulder before turning back to focus on the road.

  “Everything you knew,” Antonio said, “means you had to implicate me. Thank fucking God you guys are taking me with you.”

  “Okay, maybe I didn’t tell him everything,” Margot said. “I did not bring you into the conversation at all. He did, though. Did you know he thinks you’re a leech, that Gino’s been taking care of you while you bum around doing nothing?”

  Antonio snorted. “Yeah, I knew that.” He paused and then said, “Thanks. I owe you.”

  “No, you don’t. If you hadn’t come up with this plan, we’d still be there. If we weren’t dead, we’d still be under Gino’s thumb. You saved us, Antonio.”

  “All of us,” Phoebe added. She rested her hand on his for a moment and then twined her fingers with his. He stared at her face as he lifted their clasped hands to his cheek. She really wanted to kiss him, but there was still more to the story, and she doubted he would be able to focus on anything else until he heard it all.

  “So with Proctor involved, how did you manage to get away?” he asked. “And how did you get Nina? I thought she was with Zelda.”

  “Margot told him she wouldn’t give him anything at all until her daughter was back in her custody. He was already watching Gino’s house, so he knew when Nina and Zelda left. He pulled her over and took Nina and then we met him to make the exchange.”

  “The exchange?”

  Phoebe nodded. “We exchanged Nina for a recording of Margot’s confession.”

  “Damn. Okay, how the hell did you procure an RV so fast?”

  “Money talks,” Phoebe said.

  “I see we’ve turned you to the dark side.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m choosing to see it as turning you away from the dark side.”

  “I can live with that. So wait, in order to take custody of this monster, you had to have a hell of a lot of cash.”

  “So much so, the guy didn’t even check our IDs,” Margot said.

  “And he let us drive away with the dealership plates still on the back,” Phoebe added.

  Antonio nodded. “We need to get that taken care of as soon as we’re far enough away. We’ll need new IDs too.” He cocked his head. “How do you feel about the last name Swansen?”

  Phoebe chuckled. “I suppose I could get used to it.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, by the way.” Reaching into the space between the couch and the back of the driver’s seat, she extracted Antonio’s computer bag.

  “Holy shit. My laptop. You remembered to bring it.” He sat forward, reaching for it. “Give it here. I gotta move the money. It’s the only way we can ensure our safety.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” she asked, even as she placed the laptop on his legs. “You were acting a little loopy earlier.”

  “That’s because I was in shock over seeing you and realizing you were actually saving my ass. Did I say thank you, by the way?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Remind me to demonstrate my thanks later, when we’re alone. But right now, I need to start transferring the money out of Gino’s accounts.”

  Phoebe watched as he worked his way through all the security measures and then started moving funds.

  “Please tell me this is really going to work, Antonio,” Margot said from the front seat.

  “It is. Money is the root of all Gino’s evil. He can’t manage his empire without it. I make the money disappear and he’s basically helpless. With your confession and no funds, if Proctor does his job right, my brother will rot in prison for the rest of his damn life. No money means no ability to ma
ke people do his bidding anymore. He won’t be able to touch us.” He glanced at Phoebe. “And all those families of the people he had killed will have their justice after all.”

  She smiled, batting her eyelashes against a sudden swell of wetness. “You can really make all his money disappear? You’re that good?”

  He glanced up at her. “Yeah, I am. Also, I love you.”

  She smiled and felt her cheeks warm. “You mentioned that earlier. A couple times, actually.”

  “Please tell me you’re with us because you want to be with me.”

  Her smile widened. “I am. I do. And I love you too.”

  “I want to get married. On the beach.”

  Laughter rolled over them from the front seat.

  Nina said, “That’s so romantic.”

  Phoebe opened her mouth, but he pressed his fingers to her lips. “Wait,” he said. “That proposal comes with a condition.”

  “What’s that?” she asked. A condition? What the hell else could he possibly want?

  “Are you happy? Do you regret leaving?”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, I’m happy, and, no, I don’t regret leaving. Mr. Kline was a cool boss, but I’m sure there are plenty of other cool bosses out there. And honestly, the only thing I had here was my job. And you’re worth walking away from it.”

  “My God, I love you,” he whispered, sounding reverent. “But wait. One more thing.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Promise me you’ll never call me Tony again.”

  She laughed.

  “I promise.”

  THE END

  FREED FROM THE MOB BOOK 3

  Detroit Mafia Romance

  Book 3

  RJ’s an FBI agent turned small town cop who just wants to do right by his daughter. He’s got nothing to complain about, except maybe the lack of a good woman in his life.

  When he meets Margot Sarvilli, he thinks he may have found The One. Except Margot has a secret: she used to be married to the mob.

  And when her ex-husband comes after her, everyone in his path is in danger.

  Including RJ and his daughter.

  1

  Kids Will Be Kids

  “This is your fault,” Jessica stage-whispered in that way women did when they were angry but trying not to make a scene. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips pursed, her hands fisted on her hips, her slightly too big nose quivering with each indignant breath.

  RJ wiped his hand over his face and glanced at his daughter through his fingers. She sat in one of those scoop-shaped plastic chairs in the principal’s office, a dark-haired little girl seated next to her. Both swung their legs and silently observed this little exchange. When he caught her eye, Hillary gave him a toothy smile and a finger wave. He may have divorced her mother with damn good cause, but he could never give up this child, even when she got in trouble at school and his ex, who happened to work at her school, summoned him to the principal’s office like he was the one who screwed up.

  “So what happened?” He asked Hillary, but, of course, Jessica spoke up. Their daughter hadn’t started talking until well past whatever was normal, and Jessica had blamed him for that, too, even though she was the one who never let her get a word in edgewise.

  “They clogged the toilet,” she said, making it sound like they dealt drugs in the bathroom or something, well, actually severe.

  “They both did?” He eyed the two little girls, who glanced at each other and then clasped hands the way young best friends did. “Burritos for lunch or something?”

  “What?” Jessica said. The dark-haired kid snickered and then slapped her hand over her mouth, her wide, brown eyes staring at him. He winked; he wasn’t the crazy one in Hillary’s family. Not by a long shot.

  “I know burritos have that effect on me sometimes,” RJ added, and Hillary joined her friend’s snickers. Jessica’s mouth became even more pinched, and the furrows in her forehead were so deep she could plant seeds.

  “They didn’t clog it with their-their…”

  She couldn’t even say the damn word.

  “Shit, Jessica. I’m talking about shit.” Hillary’s friend let out a little squeal. Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to talk like a cop when he was standing in his daughter’s elementary school. “Crap. I meant crap. No, poop. That one’s okay to say, isn’t it?”

  Hillary and her friend started giggling so uncontrollably they collapsed against each other. RJ got it. Poop was a funny word.

  Jessica’s face turned a funny shade of purple, like she wasn’t breathing. Or like a storm was about to erupt. Hopefully, she remembered there were kids in the vicinity.

  Her temper was the reason he’d finally demanded a divorce. She never let the fact that Hillary was in the room bother her when she raged at him about the hours he spent at his job or accused him of sleeping around when in fact he was on shitty, long-term stakeouts. He figured at least if they weren’t living under the same roof, the fights wouldn’t be so prevalent and hopefully wouldn’t screw up their daughter for life. Just because they couldn’t make a relationship work didn’t mean Hillary needed to grow up thinking that was the way of the world.

  “It wasn’t poop, RJ.” Jessica’s teeth were clenched, and she was practically growling now. “It was a pad.”

  The way she said the word, he guessed he was supposed to wince or groan or somehow react other than simply looking at her, but honestly, he didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. So he waited. And stole another glance at his daughter, who had stopped giggling and was now watching her mother with fear in her baby blues.

  “A pad,” Jessica repeated, flapping her hand like that was supposed to help him understand. When he remained silent, she added, “A menstrual pad.”

  “O-o-o-oh.” Now he got it. Except… “You aren’t supposed to flush those things? And wait a minute, what the hell were they doing with a pad? Shit, did Hillary start? Isn’t she young? I thought that happened when they were teenagers.” Christ, he needed to call his sister. He had no freaking clue what to do now. And he probably needed to make a stop at the grocery store. God knew there wasn’t any menstrual type stuff in his apartment. He was so not ready for this phase of fatherhood.

  “You are a Neanderthal,” Jessica spat. It was her favorite nickname for him. Such a loving ex-wife. “It was mine. She stole it out of the bathroom and brought it to school. And the two of them decided it would be fun to flush it. The plumbing in this school is so old, that entire bathroom has been out of commission ever since. They may need to replace the toilet.”

  “Well, it sounds like they were due for an upgrade anyway. And how exactly is this my fault if she brought your pad to school?”

  Jessica made a weird noise, like a cat hacking up a hairball, and then said, “What are you going to do about this?”

  RJ twisted his head to and fro, looking around in case there was someone else in the room, like maybe a plumber. Or did she honestly think he was capable of fixing the school’s antiquated plumbing system?

  She waved in Hillary’s direction. “Your daughter?”

  Hillary was always his daughter when she got in trouble and her daughter when she got some sort of recognition at school, like making the honor roll or receiving student of the month or whatever other awards the educational system was forever handing out.

  RJ sighed and gave his daughter a long-suffering look. “Hillary, are you ever going to flush a pad down the toilet again?”

  She shook her head so eagerly her hair slapped her face.

  “And you—what’s your name?”

  “Nina,” the other little girl piped up.

  “Nina. Are you ever going to flush a pad again?”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “Okay, good.” He patted each girl on the head and swiped his hands together. “Problem solved.”

  Jessica’s eyes were so big she looked like a beetle. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “That’s it?” she demanded.
>
  Okay, he was sick of this shit. He wouldn’t win, no matter what he did. He’d finally learned that lesson five years ago, and even though he still had to deal with his ex-wife because they shared custody of Hillary, at least the majority of the time he did not have to try to guess what-the-hell-was–up-Jessica’s-ass-this-time.

  He glanced at the giant clock on the wall behind the school secretary’s desk and then nodded at Hillary and her friend. “Why don’t you two go grab your backpacks? It’s almost the end of the school day anyway, and Hillary’s with me for the rest of the week. Where do you live, Nina?”

  “Begonia Avenue.”

  “That’s only two blocks away.”

  She nodded. “My mommy hates the school bus, so we moved close enough that I wouldn’t have to ride it.”

  “Smart mom. Is she at home right now? Or your dad?”

  “My dad doesn’t live here, and I don’t talk to him anymore.” She wrinkled her pert little nose. “Mommy or Uncle Antonio or Aunt Phoebe usually comes to school to walk me home.”

  The kid had involved extended family. RJ liked them already, even if the dad was obviously not in the picture.

  “Well, why don’t Hill and I drop you off on our way home?”

  She shrugged. Jessica slapped his arm. “You can’t take someone else’s kid out of the school. Not without her parents’ permission.”

  “The bell’s gonna ring in ten minutes, Jessica. We’ll be at her house before her mom leaves the driveway. And in case you forgot—which isn’t remotely likely since that’s the main aspect of my life you hated when we were together—I’m a cop. If kids can’t trust cops, who are they supposed to trust?”

  “My uncle Antonio doesn’t like cops.”

  RJ peered at the little girl now standing before him. “Oh yeah? Some people who don’t like cops either had a bad experience or are guilty of something. Which one is your uncle?”

  She shrugged. “He just doesn’t like them. Says they make him twitchy.”