The Killer's Fake Bride: A Possessive Dark Mafia Romance

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The Killer's Fake Bride: A Possessive Dark Mafia Romance Page 12

by Hamel, B. B.


  Until I met Matteo. Or maybe before that, up until I decided to go to that party because I felt trapped and stifled and wanted to see what the world could be like outside of the tiny confines of my immediate existence. I went to that weird sex orgy party to expand myself, and I succeeded in that at least.

  “You have him to help,” Nessa said, gesturing to Matteo. “I’ve got nothing.”

  “You have me,” I said. “And Matteo will help too. You’re stronger than you realize, Nessa. You just have to try.”

  She groaned and rubbed her face with both hands. “I’m going to get killed, you know.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I totally am. Colm’s going to break into my house and shoot me in the stupid face. And honestly, Sam? I’ll deserve it for listening to you.”

  I grinned and walked toward her. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

  “Of course I’ll freaking do it,” she said angrily. “What, you think I’m going to let you down twice?”

  I hugged her tight. She sighed and hugged me back.

  “You’re the best,” I said. “This is going to be good for the family, Nessa. We’re going to help save people.”

  “I really hope so,” she said, then pulled away. “Now, since this is apparently my last day on Earth, you promised me something about a pool.”

  “If you ladies plan on going in the water, I think I just might join you,” Matteo said.

  “Don’t be a perv,” I said to him, grinning.

  “Can’t be a perv if we’re married. I get to see you wearing as little as I want, whenever I want.”

  “Pretty sure that’s not how it works,” Nessa said. “Why don’t you stay in here and let us have some time?”

  “All right, if that’s what you want.”

  Nessa paused then put a finger to her lips. “Actually, how about you go find another single guy like yourself, and make sure he’s handsome. And rich. And very into me.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Matteo said.

  “I like your husband,” Nessa said, linking her arm through mine.

  “Easy, girl,” I said, tugging her to the back door. “I don’t think we should both marry a Valentino gangster.”

  “It’s not fair. If only I got pregnant first.”

  I laughed softly as we stepped outside and headed down to the pool. Somehow, Nessa made me comfortable again, like all my worries slowly drifted away. She had that effect, and though I knew it was only temporary, I let myself enjoy it while it lasted.

  15

  Matteo

  Days passed like water down a roof. Nessa checked in most afternoons, and she said things were going surprisingly well. Some people in the family were ready to hear what she had to say, and while most of them still believed Sam was a traitor, they were at least sympathetic to the idea that the Valentino family wanted peace after all.

  But Colm remained stubbornly hidden. If this was going to work, we had to come up with a plan to draw him out into the open somehow. He was the lynchpin to everything, and if we could take him down, the rest of the Healy family would topple along with him.

  We drove along the West Philly streets in my truck, circling one particular bar, waiting for a call from Nessa. Sam seemed stressed, and kept shifting in her seat like she wanted to throw off her seatbelt and go running.

  “You haven’t spoken a word in a half hour,” I said finally. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing,” Sam said, frowning out the window.

  “Come on. I know you better than that.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Do you? We’ve been married for, what, ten days? Seems like you still barely know me at all.”

  “I know every inch of your skin,” I said. “I know every curve, every mole, every perfect blemish. I know the way your nipples get hard when I lick them and the right spot to touch between your legs to make you moan. I think I know you pretty well.”

  “You know how to have sex with me,” she said, blushing, and that was very, very true—I knew how to fuck her just the way she liked. Ever since that wedding night, I couldn’t get enough. Each night I couldn’t wait for her to go to bed, just so I could sneak into her room, slip under her covers, and tease her body until she spread her legs and took me deep inside. It was a game we played, where she pretended not to want me, but she never locked her door, and she never told me to leave.

  I loved it, loved the way she whispered my name in the dark and moaned as she came, loved her lips wrapped around my cock sucking me desperately. And I loved the feeling of her warm body in bed with me as we tried to get back to sleep, limbs still touching, splayed against each other. I worshiped the way she walked, prayed at the altar of her body. She was my deity, my goddess, and I would do anything to make her smile, laugh, moan, come.

  “I know you more than that,” I said. “Now what’s the matter?”

  “I’m worried about her,” she admitted. “This is a little more aggressive than I expected.”

  I nodded and let out a breath. She was right—we hadn’t planned on setting up a meeting like this, but it had been Nessa’s idea.

  She came up with it the night before and approached Sam with it. Apparently, some of the soldiers were talking about the war, and Nessa overheard them saying some pretty unsavory shit about Colm. So Nessa took it upon herself to get involved in their conversation, told them everything we told her, from Colm’s refusal to make peace on down to my marriage to Sam.

  That got their interest. They were already angry about the long hours and the shitty pay, and especially mad that they kept dying with no real end in sight. Nessa pushed them a little bit, and eventually one approached her later that night and said he wanted to meet with me.

  I was against it at first, but then it started to make sense.

  “It could be a trap,” Sam said. “I mean, it’s probably a trap, right?”

  “It could be,” I agreed. “But it might not. We need a way to get close to Colm, right? I think this guy could be it.”

  Sam sighed, leaning her head back, and nodded. “I know. I don’t want to drag this out longer than necessary, I just wish Nessa weren’t involved.”

  “If this goes well, she can be done,” I said. “We won’t need her anymore. This guy, he’ll be the ticket.”

  “I really hope you’re right.”

  I did too. I had no clue if this would work or not, but we had to try. Every second the war continued was another second that Colm won, because it wasn’t about ending this to him. He didn’t want to push us back or to take our turf. He wanted the conflict, because the conflict strengthened his claim.

  Finally, Sam got a text from Nessa saying they were ready. I parked the truck a couple blocks away and we walked to the bar holding hands. Sam was nervous, but she didn’t say anything. She got quiet when she was worried.

  The bar was a nice spot right on the edge of UPenn’s campus. It was about as safe as it got, considering the crowd of college kids jammed inside. I doubted any Healy idiots would want to get violent in front of that many rich witnesses, since that’d be a sure way to bring the heat down hard.

  I spotted Nessa sitting with a stocky guy, his hair buzzed short, a big frown on his face. Sam went first, hugged Nessa, and nodded at the guy, before sitting down across from them.

  “Nessa,” I said, nodding to her, standing at the end of the table. The place had a masculine and industrial feel, with lots of wood and metal, and pictures of boats lining the wall, although I didn’t see a nautical theme. “And you must be Brody.”

  Brody grunted at me. “Got to admit, never thought I’d willingly meet with a Valentino prick,” he said.

  “Same,” I said. “We good here? Just talk?”

  “Just talk,” Brody said. “Sit down before the college kids start staring.”

  I took a seat next to Sam. Nessa tried to smile, but it slowly faded away as Brody glared at me like he had a gun under the table. For all I knew, he probably did, although it w
asn’t like I came unarmed. I felt the press of my pistol against the small of my back.

  “Thanks for meeting with us, Brody,” Sam said. “How’s your mom doing? She still sick?”

  “She’s better,” Brody said, looking at her, his face softening slightly. “Treatment’s working, I guess. So she’s better.”

  “That’s really great,” Sam said. “Tell her I say hey, will you?”

  “Doubt she’ll like that,” he said. “Everyone’s talking about you, you know? Samantha the good Healy girl turned on the family and married a Valentino.” He grunted and shook his head. “Fucked up, honestly, but hey, I’m here so I guess I can’t judge.”

  Sam stared down at her fingers, at the rings there, and said nothing. I leaned toward Brody, catching his gaze, as Nessa tugged at her shirt awkwardly.

  “I’m here because I want to end the war between our families,” I said, staring him in the eye. “We don’t have to be best friends after it’s all done with, but I want to stop killing each other. Make some sort of arrangement.”

  “Yeah, and does your Don want that, too?”

  “He does,” I said. “That’s why all this is happening. Don Valentino’s sick of the war, and he’s been sick of it for some time.”

  Brody’s jaw clenched. “Fucking Colm. He’s been saying you people wouldn’t negotiate for months now. Fucking bastard’s been lying, hasn’t he?”

  “He’s been lying, Brody,” Sam said gently.

  “We’re willing to come to terms,” I said. “And not some bullshit, either. We’ll make some small concessions if your family’s willing to meet in the middle.”

  He leaned back, arms crossed. “I don’t know what you want me to do. I can’t make any promises. I’m just a fucking soldier. I sling rock and get in fights.”

  “I don’t need you to make promises,” I said. “I only need you to get me the one person that can.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You want Colm.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “He’s the one guy in this whole city keeping your family fighting. All those dead are on his hands as much as they’re on ours. And you know what? I’m fucking sick of people dying. Let’s end this.”

  Brody stared at me, his face slack and blank. I couldn’t read him at all, and I suddenly felt like the whole bar was staring and had gone quiet—which wasn’t true, of course. I glanced around, searching for a threat, halfway convinced that the table of co-ed girls sitting behind me were about to turn around and shoot me in the skull. Brody finally rubbed his face with both hands and banged on the table with a fist.

  “Fucking hell,” he said. “I don’t want to be in this position.”

  “You’re the only one brave enough to step up,” Nessa said.

  “She’s right,” Sam said. “Brody, you know I’m not some traitor. I love my family. The Valentinos don’t have to be our enemies anymore.”

  I could see it working. His face twisted, like he was trying to rectify two conflicting ideas in his head. I almost felt sorry for the guy as he struggled to put all this together and form a coherent worldview. The leader he followed, maybe the leader he worshiped, had been lying to them this whole time. His friends, his family, they were dying for Colm, and for nothing.

  That pissed him off. But the idea of going behind Colm’s back must’ve been just as horrifying.

  “What assurances do I get?” Brody asked. “If I help you, what do I get?”

  “Whatever you want,” I said. “If it’s money, we have money. If it’s promises of safety, I can promise we’ll do our best. All I ask is for Colm, and when Colm’s gone, for the rest of the family to listen instead of going for revenge.”

  Brody drummed his fingers. “I know other guys are tired,” he said after a short pause. “They’re sick of fighting. Money’s bad and business is worse because of the war. We were better off before this all started.”

  “We were too,” I agreed.

  “I’ll talk to people,” he said. “No promises, but I’ll talk to them, and maybe we can get you Colm. But maybe not.”

  “All I ask is that you try.”

  “I’ll talk to Nessa,” Brody said. “She’ll go between us.”

  “Wait,” Sam said. “Maybe you can just talk directly to me?”

  “No,” Brody said. “Too obvious. I talk to Nessa and nobody else.”

  Nessa held up her hands. “It’s okay,” she said. “I can handle it.”

  Sam sat back, arms crossed, looking annoyed. I sighed and nodded.

  “All right,” I said. “You talk to Nessa and pass information through her. I get you don’t like me, Brody, and I don’t like you, either. But if we’re going to end this war, we have to work together.”

  Brody grunted, face tensing again as he took a deep breath and let it out. “My little cousin got shot in the head two months back,” he said, staring at his hands. “He was seventeen years old, you know? Just a fucking kid playing at being a gangster. He died for this war. He died thinking it was right. And now I know it was all bullshit.” Brody looked at Nessa. “Carson was a nice kid, right? He was a good fucking kid.”

  “Real good kid,” Nessa said, nodding, blinking back tears. “Good at basketball. Real funny too.”

  “Hilarious,” Brody said angrily. “And now he’s fucking dead.”

  “We’ll save the rest of them,” Sam said. “I promise, Brody. I remember Carson too. He didn’t deserve what he got.”

  Brody stared at me and there was a fire in his gaze. He hated me, that much was obvious, but he hated his family even more for letting his cousin get killed. I wondered how many more guys in the Healy family felt the same, how many more were bitter over losing loved ones and best friends, how many more were willing to turn on their leader.

  “We’ll talk,” Brody said, and shifted toward Nessa. She backed out and let him past. He stood up, stared at me for a second, then shook his head. “Fucking Valentino,” he said, then left.

  Nessa sat back down heavily. “That went better than I thought,” she said.

  “He’s angry,” I said, watching him walk out the door. “Misses his cousin. It’s fucked up that it has to come to this.”

  “But we’ll end it,” Sam said, touching my arm, then looked back at Nessa. “I’m sorry you’re still involved.”

  Nessa waved a hand. “It’s fine. I didn’t plan on walking away until it was all over. So hey, while we’re here, let’s get a drink and toast to Carson and everyone else we’ve lost.”

  “Works for me,” Sam said.

  “I’ll get the drinks,” I said. “Whiskey all around?”

  Nessa laughed and gave me her real drink order. I walked to the bar, but looked back at the two of them, leaning toward each other and talking in low voices. They’d lost so much—all of them had. So many broken, traumatized families, struggling to hold themselves together in the wake of this damned war.

  And in the midst of it, I had one reason, one glimmering, perfect reason to keep going. Sam smiled and laughed at something Nessa said, and I felt a blooming in my chest, a flowering, aching need, and I knew I’d give anything to that girl, anything she wanted and more.

  16

  Sam

  The days dragged past. I could pretend like it was hard living in that big mansion with Matteo, but honestly, I almost forgot that we were supposed to be at war. Nessa and Brody were doing the real hard work while I got to lounge around outside by the pool.

  Which wasn’t as great as it sounded. I was wracked by guilt and worry, especially for Nessa. Brody knew the deal and understood the risks, and he was a soldier anyway, he put himself out in harm’s way all the time.

  But although Nessa betrayed me, I still didn’t want her to get hurt. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

  “You look stressed.” Matteo stretched next to me, wearing only a black bathing suit. His skin glimmered in the afternoon sunlight, and I felt a sudden spike of desire. We’d been sleeping in the same bed every night since we got married, and he
was still as insatiable as that very first night. It was almost too distracting, except every time he touched my skin, I completely forgot all about my hesitations and worries, and gave myself over to him completely.

  “I’m just thinking,” I said, shrugging a little. I rolled onto my side and smiled as he shaded his face. “Worried about Nessa, I guess.”

  “She’ll be okay,” he said. “Brody’s looking out for her now.”

  “She sounded a little unsure the last time we talked.”

  “What, last night?”

  “Yeah.” I reached out and touched his hand. “I’m starting to worry about everything, you know?”

  He squeezed my palm in return and sat up. “You should call her then,” he said. “Talk to her.”

  “Maybe I should.” I bit my lip and checked the time. “Think she’s around?”

  “I don’t know, but it can’t hurt to try.” He leaned forward and kissed my thigh.

  “I keep thinking about killing my own family,” I whispered, looking at the pool. “Could you do that? Kill your own uncle?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “If it meant saving the rest of my people, I think I could. But remember, you’re not the one pulling the trigger.”

  “I know that, but I’m a part of it.”

  “You don’t have to be.” He stared at me, frowning slightly. “You could back out, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have the contracts now,” he said. “I can deal with Nessa and Brody directly. You don’t have to be in the middle of everything anymore.”

  I chewed on my cheek and shook my head, standing abruptly. “I can’t do that,” I said. “That’d be even worse, right? Just sitting back and watching it all happen?”

  “I’d rather you backed out,” he said honestly. “Otherwise, you’ll be in danger like the rest of us.”

  I picked up my towel and wrapped it around myself. “I think I’m going to call Nessa,” I said.

 

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