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 13

by Hamel, B. B.

He nodded once and leaned back onto his chair. “All right, come find me when you’re done.”

  I slipped my feet into my flip-flops and walked off onto the grass, phone clutched in my hand. I felt a little dizzy and had to move a bit before dialing Nessa’s number and waiting for it to ring.

  She answered right away. “I was just thinking about you,” she said. “I’m sitting here in the park, swinging all alone, and I was wondering what you were up to, and then you called.”

  “I was thinking about you, too,” I said.

  “What are you up to in that big old mansion with that hot husband of yours?”

  “Oh, you know, sitting by the pool.”

  “Oh my god,” she said and sighed. “I am so extremely jealous.”

  “I know, but listen, I didn’t call to brag.”

  “I hope not.” She laughed softly and some wind blew into the receiver. “So what’s going on, you okay?”

  “I wanted to ask you something.” I headed down to the tree line, but stopped before I got there. I didn’t want to go into the woods without shoes on. “I’m having second thoughts.”

  She was quiet for a few seconds. “How big of second thoughts?” she asked.

  “Not huge,” I admitted. “But still. Colm’s my uncle, you know? And I’m helping Matteo kill him. I’m just conflicted.”

  Nessa let out a deep breath. I could practically see her swinging back and forth in that beat-up old playground all alone, staring at the ratty row homes that were our entire lives, the crumbling neighborhood, the broken-down cars, the trashed-strewn gutters. I could see her looking around and wondering what the hell Colm ever did for her or for anyone, other than get them killed.

  “I understand what you mean,” she said finally. “It’s not easy, you know? I’m glad I’m not Brody.”

  “But you’re helping him.”

  “I know.” She took a deep breath. “Look, I think you should meet someone. Can you get away for a few hours?”

  I looked back toward the pool. Matteo wasn’t watching me, but I knew that he’d come looking if I went out of his sight for even ten seconds. I was his pregnant wife, even if our marriage was more for political reasons than anything else.

  “Not alone,” I said.

  “Bring the husband then.” Nessa laughed. “Look at you, whipped already.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Who am I meeting?”

  “You know her already, but I think it should be a surprise. Can you come to Rittenhouse? Somewhere public but where the other Healy guys wouldn’t go.”

  “Sure, right now?”

  “Right now. Go talk to Matteo. I’ll be there in a half hour.”

  “All right, yeah, okay.” I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m sorry I’m being a huge pain, Nessa.”

  “I love you, kid. Don’t worry about it. I feel like I owe you anyway, since I was such a huge dick.”

  “True that.” I grinned and tugged at my hair. “All right, talk soon.”

  “Bye.”

  I hung up and trudged back along the hill to Matteo. He raised an eyebrow as I sat on the edge of his chair and put my hand on his chest.

  “What’s up?” he asked. “Nessa okay?”

  “She wants to meet,” I said. “Can we head into the city?”

  He shrugged. “Sure thing. Where and when?”

  “Rittenhouse, right now.”

  He kicked his legs off the side of the chair and stood up, stretching his back. “Better put on clothes and load my gun then,” he said and winked at me. “You’re perfect the way you are though.”

  I blushed a little. The towel barely covered a small, dark blue bikini. Matteo picked out it, and it didn’t leave much to the imagination, which was the whole point.

  “I think I’ll get dressed too.”

  “What a shame,” he said and squeezed my ass when I walked past him. “Maybe put it on again later.”

  I grinned to myself. “If you’re nice,” I said, and he slapped my ass again before draping an arm over my shoulders.

  * * *

  I found Nessa sitting next to a woman named Deirdre O’Shay, a Healy cousin. She was in her late fifties, her head wrapped in a scarf, and seemed sunk in on herself, smaller than I remembered. “Hi, Deirdre,” I said.

  “Hiya, Sam.” She stood and gave me a quick hug. “I hope it’s okay I’m here. Nessa said it’s okay, but—” She glanced at Matteo, and her expression hardened.

  “It’s fine,” I said, touching her arm, then looked at Matteo. “Maybe you can wait over there?”

  “No problem,” he said, nodded to Deirdre, then walked off and lingered next to a nearby tree.

  “Sorry,” Deirdre said. “He just puts me ill at ease. I don’t know many Valentino men, only those that took my boy away.”

  I nodded slowly. Her son was named Kieran and he’d been killed about a year earlier in a fight with the Valentino family. I could only imagine how it felt to see Matteo here, even if Matteo had nothing to do with her son’s murder.

  “Let’s sit,” I said, and all three of us squeezed onto the bench, with Dierdre in the middle. The woman stared at her hands and I gave Nessa a look, trying to figure out what we were supposed to be doing here.

  “Why don’t you tell her what you told me last night?” Nessa said, nudging Dierdre. “I think she needs to hear it.”

  Deirdre looked at me and smiled sadly. “I was only talking about my son, you know? About how old he’d be now and what he’d be doing with himself. Did I ever tell you what he wanted to do with himself?”

  “No,” Sam said. She’d barely known Kieran when he was alive, but recalled him as a quiet, polite boy.

  “Wanted to go to vet school,” she said and laughed. “Can you imagine, a Healy boy becoming a vet? But he loved dogs and animals, that boy did. Wanted to work with them, said he’d put in some time with the family, earn some money, then pay his way through. I used to say to him, Kier, you do what Colm says and you’ll be all right, you know?” She had to stop and calm herself, forcing back tears. “I told him Colm would watch him, yeah?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Sam said and touched her arm.

  “Thanks, Sam. You were always a good girl, yeah? I just, Nessa told me what yous was up to, yeah? And I wanted to tell you there are a lot of mothers in the family that support your decision.”

  “My decision?” I looked at Nessa, feeling a pit in my stomach.

  “You’re going to kill the bastard.” Deirdre stared at me, eyes narrowing. “Right, dear? You’re going to kill Colm, the fucker?”

  I sucked in a breath and slowly let it out, then nodded once. “With Matteo’s help, that’s the plan.”

  “Good,” she snarled. “I told my boy Colm would watch out for him but what happened instead? Dead, shot in the head, yeah? Killed in the damn street selling some damn drugs for a family that didn’t give a shit about him. When I heard from Brody that Colm’s been refusing to make peace all this time, I just about lost it, yeah?”

  I stared down at my hands then slowly shook my head. “I’m worried. I’m scared that killing my own uncle’s going to do something to me, like when it’s all over, I’ll be damned.”

  Deirdre grabbed my hands in both of hers. “You listen to me,” she said. “If God wants to punish you for doing this thing, then he’s no God for me, you hear me? Colm needs to go. I don’t want a single mom to ever feel the way that I do. He’d been gone a year, and I still feel like I’m bleeding for him.” She squeezed my hands hard. “Please, Sam. Make Colm go away. Kill him for everyone.”

  “I will,” I said softly.

  “Good.” She dropped my hands. “Good, I want you to do it. A lot of us want you to do it. For Kieran but also for all the other boys that aren’t dead yet.”

  I stood up and fought to keep my expression neutral. Nessa nodded at me, a sad smile on her lips.

  “You see why I wanted you to come?” she asked.

  “I get it,” I said. “Deirdre, thanks for talking to m
e. I was having a hard time with everything, but you’re right. Colm’s got to go.”

  “Good for you. Kill the fucker for me.”

  I laughed once, sharp and shrill, then waved and left them there. I joined Matteo and he touched my hip gently. “You okay?” he asked.

  “That woman’s son died in the family,” I said. “Killed by the Valentinos. Dead because of some bullshit war. Can you imagine how she feels?”

  “Not even a little bit,” he said, glancing in their direction. “But you needed to talk to her, didn’t you?”

  “I needed to hear all that, yeah,” I said. “These guys have moms and brothers and fathers and sisters. And every time one of them gets killed, it ripples out and hurts so many more people, and we can stop it. We have to stop it.”

  He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight then kissed my cheek gently. “Come on, let’s get back,” he said, and we turned to leave.

  But Nessa walked over, leaving Deirdre on the bench.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine. Thanks for bringing her here, I really needed that.”

  “She’s not the only one I’ve talked to,” Nessa said, glancing at Matteo. “Half the family’s like her, lost someone and is pissed about it.”

  “You’re being careful though, right?” Matteo asked. “I don’t want you putting yourself out there too much.”

  “I’m good, don’t worry about me.” She grinned and ran a hand through her hair. “Listen, Brody wants you to meet with a few of his guys.”

  “Can they come to the mansion?” Matteo asked. “We can meet somewhere neutral if they’d rather, but the mansion will be safest.”

  “I can try to arrange it.”

  “Tell him only to bring one or two guys and keep a low profile.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Nessa smiled at me and waved once. “See you soon then.” She left, walking over to Deirdre, and spoke to her softly.

  Matteo steered me away. We walked through the park together and I leaned against him. It was strange and surreal that we were meeting to plan a man’s execution in a place that was so full of life—older folks walking their dogs, young kids running around with their parents, buskers playing instruments, college kids sitting on blankets in the sun. Rittenhouse was a tiny oasis in the city, and it seemed miles away from the death that was coming for me soon.

  “I never thought it would be like this,” I said softly.

  “I know,” Matteo said. “But once Colm’s gone, the war can end.”

  “And then what?” I looked up at him, frowning. “What happens then?”

  “Then, who knows.” He shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. Now come on, little wife. We need to get planning.”

  I let him steer me away and felt more sure about all of this than I ever had.

  17

  Matteo

  Brody showed up three days later with two young guys in tow. They stood on the front porch staring at the mansion with wide eyes, and honestly, that was half the reason I wanted them to come there in the first place.

  “I’m glad you made it,” I said, shaking his head.

  Brody grinned at me. “Fuck, for a chance to see this place, it was worth the trip.” He nodded at his guys and I looked out past him. “This is Shane and Torin. They’re cool.” Shane had a flop of dark, fluffy hair, and Torin sported a thick beard and his hair was pulled back into a tight bun.

  And standing behind them was Shaun.

  I recognized him from that meeting. I reached for the gun in my belt but Brody quickly put his hands up to stop me. “Hold on,” he said.

  “What the fuck is he doing here?”

  Shaun leered at me. “Not happy to see me?” he asked. “I came here just for you.”

  “He’s cool too,” Brody said.

  “He was the one pushing hard for a fight the last time I saw him,” I said. “Why the hell would you bring him?”

  Brody grunted and looked back at Shaun. “You talk to him, and don’t be a dick.”

  Shaun held up his hands and stepped forward. “We got a bad start back there at the pub, all right?”

  “You were practically begging for a war,” I said. “Why in the hell would I ever think you’d want something different now?”

  “I get it,” he said and his smile faded away as he looked me in the eye. “But everyone in my family’s lost someone. I used to think Colm was right about everything, but I’m starting to see that the bodies are piling up, and we’re not getting anywhere.”

  I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know about this.”

  “Give him a chance,” Brody said. “I’ve been working on him. He’s on the right path now.”

  I stared at Shaun for a long moment. He could be extremely useful if he wasn’t full of shit, but I didn’t know if I could trust the kid, not yet at least. He was like a rabid dog that day in the pub, ready to bite and kill.

  But I knew this was more complicated with that. In a family like the Healys, a guy like Colm was a god to these young men. I could only imagine that Shaun and all these guys looked up to Colm and wanted to do everything he said, and getting away from that must’ve been hard as well. If Brody could do it, then maybe Shaun could, too.

  “Who’d you lose?” I asked finally.

  “My older brother,” he said. “Dead two years now. Died early on in the fighting.”

  I nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. We’ve all lost something in this fucking fight.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Shaun said. “I acted like a real fucking prick. I thought Colm was right, you know?”

  “I know.” I extended my hand.

  Shaun took it and we shook.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get down to business.”

  I led the guys through the house, giving them the tour. Bea fluttered around and made all the appropriate sounds, offered to get them something to eat and drink, which they readily accepted, and then disappeared back into the kitchen. I took them into the living room where I had a table set up with plenty of chairs.

  Sam was already at the head. She stood and nodded to the group as they entered, then gaped when she saw Shaun. “What’s he doing here?” she said, backing up.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “He saw the light.”

  “We convinced him,” Brody said. “Don’t worry, Sam. He’s on our side.”

  Shaun stepped forward, rubbing the back of his head. “I know I fucked up,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that shit to you at the pub like that. I’m sorry, Sam.”

  She gaped at him then stared at me and I only shrugged, grinning back. She finally sighed and gestured at the table. “Let’s all sit down,” she said.

  They nodded back and sat down at the table. I took the chair next to Sam, and for one second, I sat back and stared at the young Healy kids as they looked around the cavernous living room like they’d never seen something quite like it.

  Which they probably hadn’t. These were real Healy kids, the sort of boys that grew up knowing only Philly row homes. I guessed they were all under twenty-five, maybe closer to eighteen. They were practically kids, and I could imagine why they’d want to end this war. Nobody wanted to die for some gang fight, especially not when there was an alternative.

  “So how do we do this?” Shaun finally asked after Bea brought out small finger sandwiches and tea. The boys eyed the food and drink like it was radioactive, but ate and drank it happily enough.

  “Plan’s simple,” I said. “We need to get Colm out of hiding again and into a meeting. That’s where all you come in.”

  Brody looked at Shaun, who shrugged. “I can talk to Colm,” Shaun said. “He’s hard to contact, but he’ll talk to me.”

  “Can you set up a meeting?” Sam asked.

  “That, I don’t know,” Shaun said. “He doesn’t like doing shit if he doesn’t have to. That other meeting was a special thing, you know? He wanted to show that he was serious about talking to you people, but looking back on it, I think he
never really wanted to make peace.”

  “Did you?” I asked.

  Shaun looked down at the table and shook his head. “No, I didn’t,” he said. “But then I talked to Nessa, and she made me talk to some of the old ladies, and then my mom came and told me how bad it hurt when Billy died, and I just, I realized that maybe none of this is worth it. Do I really want to die over some fucking turf?”

  “Nobody wants that,” Brody said, jaw clenched. “We’ve all lost too much.”

  “The Valentino family feels the same way. There’s a reason we haven’t rolled into your neighborhoods and started killing you all, and don’t act like we couldn’t.”

  Shaun nodded, his jaw tight. “I used to think we were strong, but now I’m starting to realize how many dead bodies we’ve got behind us, and maybe we were never as tough as I thought.”

  “That’s why we need to get Colm out of hiding,” Sam said. “Offer him reparations.”

  Shaun laughed. “That was a joke. I mean, he thought it was hilarious, you know? Reparations? He never thought you’d go for it.”

  “Tell him we’ll pay,” I said, shrugging. “Tell him whatever it takes. We want this war to end. Tell him we’ll write a check for it.”

  “That might work,” Brody said. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Shaun said.

  “You’ve got to try,” Torin said suddenly, leaning forward. Shane sighed and ran both his hands through his hair. These guys were a mess, probably struggling with the fact that they were traitors and actively plotting their leader’s death with the opposition, but I couldn’t let that ruin things now, not when we were so close.

  “I’ll tell him you’ll pay,” Shaun said. “And that you’ll give him some turf. That might bring him to the table at least.”

  “That’s all we need,” I said. “The plan’s simple. You get him to a meeting, and we kill him.”

  “Might get bloody though,” Shaun said.

  “Definitely might,” Torin agreed.

  “Would you two be quiet for a little while?” Sam said, glaring at them.

  I held up my hands. “Easy,” I said. “No reason to get angry. We don’t want anyone to get hurt, other than Colm.”

 

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