Wife For Him: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  He stepped toward me and for a moment I felt a spike of fear. Maybe it was the look in his eye, or maybe it was that he didn’t smile—or maybe it was that I was in only a towel and at my most vulnerable.

  “And I thought I made myself clear that we’d have to do things together.”

  “I didn’t know we were starting tonight.”

  “Now you do. Go upstairs and put on the dress.”

  “No.”

  He stepped closer. “I’ve been nice to you, Cora. Don’t make me be mean.”

  “What are you gonna do, huh? Hit me?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to hit you. I’m going to rip off that towel, carry you upstairs, and dress you myself. You want me to do that?”

  “Asshole. You won’t touch me.”

  “I’ll touch you, and we’ll both like it.”

  I stared at him and he stared back. I knew that his threat wasn’t empty—I could see it in the way he inched toward me, that he’d grab me and drag me upstairs and strip me if that’s what it took.

  I knew the look in his eye. I knew men like him.

  “Fine,” I said, turning away. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  “You’ve got ten.”

  I flinched, but said nothing as I stormed upstairs.

  I never should’ve done this. I should’ve stayed away from the mafia. I should’ve left the city after Alex died and started my life over, but I was too deep in my own grief to see that obvious fact, and now it was too late. I let my greed and anger and self-loathing make this decision for me, and now I was stuck with him, stuck in this house, and unable to figure out how I’d get past any of it.

  I came downstairs wearing the dress fifteen minutes later. He stood near the front door and his eyes widened when he saw me.

  “You look good.”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t have time to do my hair and it’s still wet.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  I let out an annoyed breath but didn’t bother arguing. I could tell it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

  At least the dress was cute. It was from Prada, simple and black with a loose skirt and a tight chest. The price tag was astronomical and I had a feeling he’d left it on there on purpose. I hated to admit that I looked good in it, and it fit as though he’d gotten it tailored with my measurements—but there was no way he knew them.

  He offered me his arm. “Come on. Let’s head out.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Steakhouse.”

  I ignored his arm and walked outside. He followed, locked the door, and walked with me to his black Lexus.

  We drove in silence. There were a hundred steakhouses in the city and I realized that it didn’t matter which one. I was arm candy for him, nothing more than a prop he was meant to show off. We needed to be seen together in public so that the city knew our marriage was for real and our two crime syndicates truly were getting along.

  As much as I hated it, I knew it was my job, so I kept my mouth shut and followed his lead.

  He parked out front of Barclay Prime and let the valet take the car. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and I could only guess at how expensive an average meal was. The place was packed, each table filled by an elegant couple. There was a dress code, and although the hostess glared at my still-wet hair, she took us back and seated us at a table right in the center of the main dining hall.

  I felt eyes on me the moment we sat down. I stared at my water and tried to ignore it. Reid smiled and when the waitress came, he asked for a glass of whiskey for himself and a glass of white wine for me. I didn’t bother arguing, since wine would probably help.

  “You don’t have to look like you’re being held captive, you know.”

  I looked up at him. “I’m not.”

  “You are. You look like I’m going to take you back to my place and torture you after this.”

  “You’re already doing that.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Come on, little wife. It’s not so bad. We’re at a nice restaurant.”

  “People are staring.”

  He leaned toward me, eyes flashing amusement. “Look to your left, three tables over. Old guy, white hair, black suit. His wife looks like she’s half asleep.”

  I looked over and spotted the table he meant. The wife took a long sip of wine and put it down before blotting her mouth with a napkin and giving her husband one hell of a withering stare.

  “I see them.”

  “That’s a state senator. Two tables behind them? Police chief and his girlfriend—I mean, their nanny. There are a couple made men, another state senator, a few big-time lawyers, a doctor I’m vaguely familiar with, and a few other important people milling around in here.”

  “So what?”

  “So, I’m trying to make you understand why we’re here.”

  “I get it, I’m your arm candy.”

  He sighed but said nothing as the waitress returned with our drinks. Before she left, he ordered for us both: steaks, French fries, small house salads. I wanted to argue, but I didn’t feel like getting into it, so the waitress took our menus and left.

  “You’re arm candy,” he conceded. “You do that job very, very well.”

  I gave him a look. “I’m not going to take your compliments.”

  “Too bad.” He leaned closer. “But you’re more than that. We have to be a united front or this won’t work.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If people look at us and realize you hate my fucking guts then this marriage loses its significance. We need the people with power in this city to understand that my crew and your family are at peace and are going to stay at peace. Otherwise, they might get uncomfortable.”

  I sipped the wine and swirled the glass. “We’re here to make rich people comfortable.”

  “Exactly. They want to see that the mafias aren’t going to start murdering each other in the street.”

  “Are they?”

  He chewed on that for a second and sipped his whiskey. “Probably not.”

  “That’s not a very good answer.”

  “Look, your family’s been a little shady lately. Do you know what’s been happening?”

  “I know the family split a few years back. My uncle took a lot of the senior members and moved to Chicago.”

  “Yeah, that’s right, and Vincent’s been in charge ever since. He’s a smart guy, but he’s also desperate to prove himself.”

  “You think he’s going to start something.”

  “I think he’s not happy about my boss Hedeon taking over the Volkov family. Vincent and Hedeon don’t know each other well, and if one thing goes wrong—the whole thing can get fucked up. That’s why we got married, to avoid anyone doing anything stupid. We’re a symbol of peace.”

  I smiled and sipped my wine. I hated the idea of being a symbol for anyone, much less of peace. My life hadn’t been peaceful, not when I was a little girl running around with the sons of the other mafia bastards, dealing with their taunts and their aggressions, and not later, when I got older and watched Alex get murdered in a botched drive-by shooting. No, my life’s been nothing but violence and blood and one mistake after the other, and the idea of being someone’s symbol of peace felt like a sick joke.

  The worst part was, I knew I signed up for that. I had a vague idea of what we were supposed to be doing when I accepted my cousin’s proposal—but truthfully, I didn’t much care at the time, and only cared about getting paid. One million per year of marriage, up to five million in total if I could last five years. That was a lot of money, so much money that I could move away from Philly and start a whole new life away from the Leone family, away from the horrible memories.

  It was more than they paid Alex’s grieving mother.

  Now though, sitting across from handsome Reid, I wasn’t sure it was worth it.

  “And what happens if this doesn’t work out between us?” I asked. “The city just goes to hell and there’s
a big war?”

  He shook his head. “Probably not. I mean, if we break up this week, then yeah— that would be a real problem. But no, eventually the new order will get used to the way things are. We need to stay together until things settle down.”

  I considered that. “How long, do you think?”

  “At least a year. Maybe a couple.”

  “I’m not sure I can make it.”

  “What about me do you find so repulsive?”

  I blinked and shook my head. “You’re not repulsive.”

  “You look at me like you want to kill me. You know that, right?”

  “It’s not… it’s not you.”

  He barked a laugh. “No, it’s you, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Fine. You can keep your little secrets, if you want.” He looked away as the waitress came out with our salad course.

  Conversation was stilted and muted after that. I found myself feeling bad, but then felt angry with myself for feeling that way. After the main course came out, he managed to coax me out of my silence, and from there conversation flowed almost naturally. We talked about safe stuff, like movies and TV and music we liked, and it felt strange that we shared a lot of things in common.

  My hair dried and people stopped staring. By the time my steak was finished and I felt stuffed, I almost forgot that I was on a date with my new husband, a man I didn’t know at all, in the middle of an expensive restaurant while rich and powerful people scrutinized everything we did and said.

  Maybe it was the wine, but Reid was funny. Handsome and funny and smart. He was still a mafia bastard, but I found that if I pushed that part of him away and focused on the moment in front of me then he wasn’t so bad.

  At the end of the night, he paid the bill, left a stupidly generous tip, and walked with me out of the room. I felt more eyes on me again, but instead of making me feel naked and vulnerable, I found I sort of liked the attention. The haze of the wine made things glow, and I even took his arm when he offered it.

  Once back in his Lexus, he half turned to me and smiled.

  “You were having fun back there.”

  “I was not.”

  “You were. I saw.”

  “Don’t ruin it.”

  He smiled, started the engine, and drove us back home.

  5

  Reid

  “I hear you paraded your new wife around town last night.” Hedeon studied me over his glasses and licked his thumb as he turned the page of his newspaper. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, looking bored and calm, but I could sense the undercurrent in his words.

  “Figured I should start the process.” I sipped my tea and watch him carefully, trying not to let anything show on my face.

  We hadn’t discussed how he wanted me to roll this out. I figured I had a lot of latitude with my own damn wife, but that might not be the case. Hedeon was a fair man for the most part, but every once in a while he made some decision in his head that he never shared with the rest of the crew—and got pissed when nobody knew about it. It wasn’t a common thing, but it happened enough that I was wary.

  He only nodded slightly. “You’re probably right. How are things going with her at home?”

  “Not great.” I took a deep breath and let it out as I stared at my tea. Milky brown swirled in a chipped white enamel cup. “She’s got a thing against men in our line of work.”

  He lowered his newspaper. “Really now? Seems odd, marrying you then.”

  “I suspect her cousin bought her off.”

  “Hm.” A stormy look crossed his face. “He didn’t mention that.”

  “Probably wouldn’t.”

  “Is this going to be a problem?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll keep it under control.”

  “I hope so.” He lowered his paper and gave me a long look. “You know we need this.”

  “I understand what’s at stake.”

  He put the paper down and stood. He wore long khaki green pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked like an organic farmer or an associate professor of weed studies, not the head of the second most powerful crime family in the city, but I had a feeling he preferred it that way. Hedeon wanted to skate under the radar, to keep out of the limelight, but now it was impossible to avoid. Ever since we stepped into the Volkov family’s position and took them over, Hedeon was given a lot more notoriety than he ever wanted.

  “We need to keep this city from falling apart.” He walked to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. “Change in leadership is difficult.”

  “Have you met with anyone?”

  He nodded. “State senators. Police chief twice. Men with power. They want to make sure I’m not going to continue my war and go gunning for the Leone family. They’re scared, Reid, and we need to calm them down before they do something stupid.”

  “Like come burn our crew to the ground.”

  “Unfortunately.” He drank the glass of water down then placed it onto the counter. “Fact is, right now nobody in this city can touch us—nobody but the men with power. The Leone family is still bigger, but I suspect we could win an outright war, or at least bleed them so much that it wouldn’t be worth getting involved. All the smaller gangs hate us and want to see us fail, but I don’t know of any that think they’re strong enough to challenge us.”

  “You think it’s the politicians we have to be afraid of.”

  “Them and the police, that’s right. If we can make the rich men of this city understand that we’re good for business and not a bunch of foolish thugs, then we might be okay.”

  I nodded and put my tea down. “I understand. You don’t have to worry.”

  “I am worried though. If the girl’s only in this for money, that means her loyalty can be bought—and it can shift at a moment’s notice.”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  “I hope that.” He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “I want you to take her out today.”

  “Today? I have drops to make.”

  “Bring her with you.”

  I barked a laugh, but he gave me a flat, serious look.

  “You’re not joking.”

  “Bring her with you,” he repeated. “Show her the job.”

  “That’s not a good idea, Hedeon. She hates the whole scene. I think it’ll only piss her off.”

  “I don’t care. Bring her anyway. I want her to understand who we are and what we do. I want her to see what sort of power we have.”

  “It’s not going to impress her.”

  “Do it anyway.”

  I grunted and nodded. “All right then.”

  “Good.” He walked to the table and sat back down with a sigh. He picked up his paper and nodded at me. “Better get going. You have to swing back home and pick up that pretty wife of yours.”

  I stood. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  He waved and went back to reading the paper. I was dismissed, which meant that, as far as he was concerned, I didn’t exist anymore. I walked out of his house and got into my car.

  The morning was gorgeous outside and I knew it was a mistake to go get Cora. Hedeon thought people could be impressed by our power and reach, but it wasn’t like that with her. She didn’t hate us because she didn’t fear us enough—she hated us because she feared us too much, if anything. Something happened with that girl, something that left her fucked up and scarred, and I had to find out what before I could help her get past it. That’d never happen if I dragged her along on my business without her consent.

  Still, Hedeon wanted it, so I’d do it. Maybe just a couple drops then back home, just to give her a taste of what we’re all about.

  I drove back to South Philly and parked out front of my place. I left the engine running and stalked up the stoop. I found her sitting in the kitchen with her hair in a messy bun eating cereal and drinking coffee.

  She looked up when I entered the room. “Uh, hey, I thought you were
working.”

  “How about you come see my job?”

  She frowned and narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “Come out with me today.”

  “No thanks.”

  “I know you hate all this shit, but come with me anyway.”

  “I’d rather not.” She turned back to her cereal.

  I walked over and shoved her bowl away. Milk splashed over the rim and onto the table top. She leaned back, eyes wide with surprise, spoon suspended above her lap. “What the hell?” she snapped.

  “Remember what I said last night about being seen together?”

  “I thought that was just—”

  “You thought wrong. Get up and come out with me.”

  She stared at me and I knew she was trying to decide if she should fling that bowl of cereal in my face or suck it up and do her job. In the end, she lowered the spoon down and shoved her chair back. She clambered to her feet and glared death at me—but at least she was up.

  “Fine,” she said. “I need to get changed.”

  “Car’s running. Make it fast.”

  She stormed out of the room without another word.

  I walked back to the car whistling a tune and sat behind the wheel. Old ladies walked past in a little group wearing ankle weights, their white hair poofing off the top of their skulls. I sucked in a breath and wondered how this would play out—if Cora would last more than one drop before flipping shit and running off, or if she’d stay quiet and end up even more resentful, or if she’d have some other reaction.

  Maybe she’d like it and get sucked down deep into the dark side and end up a bad-ass mobbed-up monster.

  Unlikely though, but a guy could dream.

  She came out ten minutes later in black jeans and a gray zip-up sweatshirt. I sighed as she climbed into my car.

  “You look like a thug.”

  “That’s what I am today, isn’t it?”

  I rolled my eyes and drove off. Traffic was light as I made my way across town then went over the bridge to West Philly. She was quiet the whole ride and I didn’t push her. The radio played Top-40 hits and she hummed along to a few of them.