Carlyle: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Raven Scott

  “You’re right, Valerie.” His tone thickened with an apology, and I ducked my head as a small smile crested my cheeks. Turning to Marshal and Fred, he nodded again curtly. “You should go. I’ll have Jerry do the tickets. You’ll be going with Theo and Illya, so I hope it’s not too awkward considering you’re pretty much strangers.”

  “Can they drink a lot?” Nodding again at Fred’s question, Carlyle’s jaw ticked, and my coworker— or business partner?— shrugged out of the corner of my eye. “Then, we’ll be best friends by the time we get back.”

  “I’ll set it up.” Casting me a long look, Carlyle slowly turned to leave the room, and I dropped into my chair to close my eyes and sigh heavily. He’d done things he wouldn’t tell me about, gone around me to Natasha about my mom, and I knew he wanted to keep me at arm’s length.

  But it just . . . it didn’t work like that.

  41

  Carlyle

  Surprise rose my brows when Oran slipped into my office, and I scanned him shrewdly as he gently shut the door behind him. He didn’t wear his glasses— he’d broken them when he attacked Roquelle— and deep, dark bags hung under his eyes. Silently sitting in the chair across from me, he rubbed his palms together, his unreadable expression and shielded eyes turning to his feet.

  “I’m sorry, Carlyle.” I nearly choked on my own spit as shock rattled my spine, but Oran didn’t raise his eyes to behold the intense befuddlement that rippled across my face. My little brother never apologized for anything, let alone to me personally, and I clenched my hands into tight fists as he rasped a sigh. “I messed up. Really bad. And . . . and it made me realize . . . this thing that’s always gone on between us . . . it has to stop. A lot of my decisions have been bad ones.”

  “Oran . . . ” Speechlessness was too soft a word to describe my utter lack of brain activity at this moment, and he clasped his hands tightly between his knees.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I have to figure out who I am when I’m not comparing myself to you. I know that I can’t expect you to accept me back so easily, but maybe . . . maybe I won’t come back as your employee. Who knows? I need to find out.” Discomfort and shock soured my expression, but I simply nodded and cleared my throat as Oran blustered a huge, soullessly exhausted sigh. “I didn’t listen to her because I always thought I was right, even when I wasn’t. You wouldn’t have brushed that aside, but I did, and now she’s de—”

  Pressing his knuckles to his mouth, Oran’s shoulders curled deeper, and my lips twitched in a sad scowl. A flurry of emotion slammed against my ribs, and I stood up to round my desk and sit against it. He turned his head in shame, and, for a flash of a second, I wondered if he could recover from what had happened.

  “Oran, you made a mistake, and you’re learning from it. I know it won’t change what you had to do, but at least it won’t happen again. As much as it hurts, it was for the best for everyone. You would’ve never trusted them again, and they wouldn’t have confided in you the way you want.” Grabbing both his shoulders, I frowned under deeply knit brows at the tension thrumming through Oran, and he glanced up at me with red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. “Don’t make the same mistakes. Trust your instincts, but also those around you. Even if it might not make sense, if you have an urge, follow it.”

  “I had that same feeling she wasn’t right.” The tentative confession sent a shiver lodging between my shoulders blades, and suddenly, it all fell into place. Oran was so torn up because he could’ve prevented this. Just as I knew he would, he’d be so screwed up that he wouldn’t stay. As much as this was a victory for me professionally, it was a failure personally, and those two clashed viciously in my chest. “I thought I could break her hard enough, but I failed. I thought I was able to rewrite anything the way I wanted it, and I was wrong.”

  “Sometimes, we’re wrong. I know that I haven’t exactly treated Valerie with the respect and consideration she deserves lately because I thought that I was protecting her, that I knew what was better when I really didn’t. It’s a learning curve, brother. That’s all. There’s always room for improvement.” My own guilt over the situation bled into my tone, and Oran gulped harshly as he exhaled a shuddering breath. “We’re not perfect, and we can’t think we are. People get hurt, physically or emotionally. We have to prevent that, right?”

  “Yeah.” He sniffed hard, standing up slowly to rub his face and up into his hair with trembling fingers, and I released his shoulders to brace myself on my desk. “I’m going to go now, Carlyle.”

  “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Oran. I really, truly do.” I don’t know what I was expecting, but Oran wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. Gingerly following suit, my cheek twitched when one of his tears seared down my neck and under my collar. He was hot, but his hands were cold, and I patted his back firmly before he drew back and nodded a jerk of his head.

  “Okay.” Just as solemn and heavy-footed, Oran slunk out of my office, and I cocked my head at the closed door while my brain stalled. Did that really just happen? Did Oran, who had a beef with me for being born first, just bow out? Granted, the push I gave him was a hard one, but I didn’t expect him to react so early or so gracefully.

  It gave me some hope that he’d better himself, and that opened up a window I hadn’t considered . . . maybe ever.

  Having a brother, not a subordinate.

  “What a concept.” Murmuring to myself, I shook my head in an effort to jolt my brain into working again, and a sigh deflated my chest. “Mateo’s next.”

  “I’m glad I got that moment.” Glancing over at the sofa as Valerie sketched furiously, I frowned under furrowed brows at the concentration on her face. I’d forgotten she was here, and she scrunched up her face in an effort to draw exactly what she’d seen.

  “I forgot you were here for a second. That was surprising— I didn’t expect him to withdraw so easily.” Wandering back around my desk, I couldn’t help the slight twinge of embarrassment stinging my chest. I had specifically talked about her, and she was sitting right there. Humming softly, Valerie didn’t look up from her pad, and I sat down to wiggle the mouse on the screen.

  “You always talk about your siblings like you’re all at war with each other. Sometimes, you’re on the same side, but different factions, and other times, you’re on opposite sides completely. I think it was really important that you and Oran reached some sort of middle ground.” If she was flattered that I’d mentioned her, Valerie didn’t show it in her tone. She sounded proud, and I smiled at the faint reflection of myself on the screen. “Have you and Oran always been at odds like that?”

  “Yeah. I suppose there were ways I could’ve helped the situation. I never wanted him around. I prefer working alone. It probably didn’t help that Mateo was the youngest, and Sonja was the only girl. It probably felt like Oran, and I competed a lot to be the best because those two spots were taken.” My voice thickened thoughtfully, but I shook my head as I leaned back in my chair to sigh heavily. “I don’t know what’ll happen. It’s kind of exciting.”

  “It was a nice speech, Carlyle.” Smiling lightly, I turned my gaze to Valerie fully as she scribbled away, her lips thinned in concentration. “It’s always important to recognize your faults.”

  “Thank you.” The conversation stalled, but I didn’t try to revive it as she worked furiously. She was such a good artist— with people, particularly— and I stood up to walk over to the sofa. Sitting down leisurely, I stretched my legs and flung an arm over the back of the couch, and the tiredness of the last few days hit me hard.

  “If you need to talk about what happened, Valerie, I’ll listen.” She paused at my mumble, and I closed my eyes to sink into the thick cushions before her pencil scratching the page filled my ears. Of course, she was right— just knowing she was here, in the same room, despite not actively doing something together, was very nice.

  “I don’t want to talk about it, but thanks. Honestly, I haven’t thoug
ht about it that much. It’s kinda surreal, almost like it didn’t happen. I’d like to keep it that way.” Rubbing the smooth curve of her back under her shirt, I hummed softly, the steady beat of her heart never wavering under my palm. “I’d rather fool myself into thinking she’s still out there, ignoring me and ruining herself.”

  “Alright.” I mean, I could understand that, to a point. Valerie’s mother had shredded their lives with a hacksaw, and once she had disappeared, the world was right again. That didn’t mean she had to be dead— she just had to be gone. Where and how and why were meaningless, and Valerie hadn’t actually seen where the gunshot went.

  For all she knew, I’d dumped her in New York City.

  “Boss! Boss . . . boss . . . boss!” Bursting into my office, Carl zoomed to the bookshelf to grab the TV remote, and I arched a brow as he called me breathlessly. “It’s all over the news, about the bomb and how it’s connected to those gangbangers dropping like flies. Those guys Oran sent invitations to really work fast.”

  “I knew they would. They’re professionals, and it’s quite a lot of money when it racks up.” Twenty-five thousand dollars a head was an average price, to be honest, but there were a lot of Baron Ninety-Nine members just waiting around to be killed. Carl flicked on the news, and I cracked my eyes open to watch a video of the flaming, smoking ruins of one of Pedro’s warehouses.

  Valerie paused her drawing to watch the news anchor, and I felt her head stutter against my hand. That’s right. She didn’t know about this.

  “They’re calling it gang warfare, but those detectives down there must realize it’s way too clean, right?” The shot of the warehouse zoomed out to a generic cop badge symbol, and I nodded firmly. “You think they’re gonna do anything about it?”

  “I doubt it. It’s one less gang in a city being overrun with drugs.” Just as I answered, there was an urgent report, and the frazzled news anchorwoman glanced past the camera. “Even if they have their suspicions, they’re not going to find anything to the contrary. Baron Ninety-Nine has two choices at this point— go underground or keep dying. At least they’re finally getting the attention they want.”

  “Yeah, you know, I heard from Pedro when I was driving him to the airport. He called someone and basically told them to rip apart known hangouts on the other side of the border. He’s mad pissed, man.” Inhaling deeply, I only shook my head at that because what Pedro did on his own turf wasn’t my business, but I was glad he was angry.

  It’d give him less incentive to let anyone fuck him over again, and thus stay off my radar. There wasn’t much more he could hand me if he landed in my sights again . . . except his life, of course.

  I’m sure it’ll come down to that, eventually.

  42

  Valerie

  “Okay, I hope you have a lot of fun, Nat.” Holding my cell phone to my ear with my shoulder, I popped open the oven to put the lasagna I’d made inside. Heat wafted my hair around my ears, and my sister laughed tipsy on the other end of the line. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Have fun on your date, too, Val. Talk to you later.” Hanging up to set my phone on the counter, I clapped my palms together to sigh, and a leisurely kind of happiness settled deep in my chest. Natasha left me her lasagna recipe, and I fixed my hair over my shoulders as heated excitement wormed between my lungs.

  A soft knock on the front door drew my attention, and I gnawed on my lower lip as I went to answer. Carlyle gazed down at me warmly, a smile stretching his lips, and flames licked up my neck as he leaned on the door frame. This time, he didn’t wear a suit. I honestly didn’t think he owned a pair of jeans, but the light khakis clinging to his hips were as casual as I’d seen him.

  “Hi . . . hey.” Tearing my eyes off his crotch, I blushed at the knowing glint in his eye, and Carlyle’s smile widened. “Come in.”

  “I would be delighted.” Stepping to the side, I pressed against the door, and Carlyle breezed past to brush against me suggestively. Flames crawling up my abdomen, and I shut the door as expectancy tingled my fingertips. My toes dug into the carpet as I followed him to the sofa, and we sat down in a tense, sexually charged awkwardness.

  “Are you going to treat me differently now that you know?” The question just burst out of me, and I clamped my hands over my mouth as my desire tinged thickly in embarrassment. Staring at my lap when Carlyle’s gaze bored holes into my cheek, I silently cursed myself, and my skin jumped when he cupped my chin. Forcing me to look at him, he frowned slightly under furrowed brows, and I held my breath as my heart thundered rapidly in its cage.

  “Yes.” Rolling my lips between my teeth to hide my own frown, I tensed when Carlyle swooped in to kiss me so sweetly that it stole what little stale breath I had. Goosebumps swept down my body, and he pinched my chin gently as his passion and his anger and his gratitude clogged my throat. Reaching a tentative hand to his chest, I didn’t protest when he caressed up my jaw, and his palm clung to the back of my head gingerly.

  His tongue slipped past my teeth, and I leaned forward when Carlyle tangled his fingers in my hair. Tangling with mine, his taste coated the roof of my mouth, and I shuffled to straddle him as he laid back on the armrest. All we did was kiss, but it was so wonderful— so liberating— and the passion behind his tongue warmed my whole body.

  Carlyle’s kisses couldn’t hide anything, and a moan squeezed past the dense lump in my throat when he palmed down my back. The lacy lingerie I wore under my clothes suddenly became itchy, and he gasped into my mouth as his tongue danced with mine. His body heat seeped through my clothes, and I slowly managed to undo each button of his shirt.

  “Valerie . . . ” Covering my hands with his when I reached the last button, Carlyle pulled my knuckles to his lips, and his eyes shone so brightly with all his passion that they threatened to blind me. “Let’s go to bed.”

  “Yeah.” He was so strong, this man who grabbed my thighs, sat up, and then stood in one smooth movement. His muscles played against my front, and my knees clung to his sides as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “You’re so strong, Carlyle.”

  “I have to be.” The simple answer tugged up the corners of my lips, and Carlyle nudged open my bedroom door and didn’t bother to close it. We didn’t have to worry about anyone barging in on us. Natasha was on a plane above Georgia or somewhere, so it was just me and him here.

  Setting me in the middle of my bed, Carlyle held himself above me on his hands and knees, and I threaded my fingers through his hair. The soft, silky strands tickled between my fingers, and he didn’t protest when I drew his lips to mine. My abdomen clenched as he settled between my legs, and every cell in me buzzed with desire and something deeper . . . more profound.

  Steering from my mouth, Carlyle placed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, and I gasped when he flicked my pulse point with his tongue. My nipples tightened and ached with need, and I arched slightly as a whimper breached my lonely lips. Pink seeped into the corners of my vision, and he very slowly rolled up my shirt as he laved the swell of my breasts.

  “Oh . . . ” The thin lace holding back my breasts scratched my skin compared to his touch, and Carlyle’s little, breathless moan surged down my sternum. With care, he pulled my shirt over my head, and I inhaled a shallow, shuddering breath as he caressed down my arms with rough fingertips. “You’re beautiful . . . words aren’t enough.”

  “Numbers are, though.” Once again, my words just slipped out, and my ears burned at the tender smile Carlyle showed me. Covering my mouth with his, he snuck his tongue to tangle around mine, and I moaned at the sweetness of his taste.

  “On a scale of one to ten, you’re a thirty-two.” Mouthing the number, my heart fluttered at the reverence in Carlyle’s tone, and he reached between us to unfasten my jeans. The coarse hairs on his arm tickled my skin, and I fisted the pillow above my head loosely as he sat back on his knees. “Make that a thirty-three.”

  It seemed so trivial and superficial that I had a number, but prid
e surged through me knowing I was the highest. I’d always be the highest. There’d never be another woman who even got the honor of a number. Peeling my jeans down my legs, Carlyle’s eyes never left mine, and he kissed my heel and calf as he tossed my pants off the bed.

  Trailing his nails up my thigh, Carlyle’s touch sent spasms through me, and need gripped my spine in a vice.

  “I’m so sorry.” The apology thickened his voice, a slight, raw lilt scratching my ears, and his eyes shone brilliantly with all the things he wouldn’t say. “I promise I’ll do better for you, Valerie.”

  “I promise, too, to always try to be on your side, even when you’re wrong.” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my words couldn’t accurately portray what I meant, but Carlyle understood. Draping himself over me, he captured my lips to seal our promises, and I cupped his face in warm hands as he dropped to his elbows. Deepening our kiss, his tongue danced around mine, but it was as much a seal on a secret as it was a promise.

  “This is very pretty— it’s a good color on you.” Flirting with the cup of my bra, Carlyle’s fingertips thickened the goosebumps that swarmed my chest. Flames licked up my neck as he licked his way down, and I gasped when he sucked my nipple into his mouth through the thin fabric. “Green is a good color on you, Valerie.”

  “The description online when I bought it said it was oak green.” My voice trembled, and tiny shocks of pleasure streamed down my chest when Carlyle hummed softly. His teeth grazed my nipple, and I arched into his mouth with a small moan while he tweaked my other peak greedily.