Wife For Him: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I let my fingers curl inward, half an inch from her ass. “Plenty of things come to mind.”

  She gave me a look and I knew I was pushing it, but I didn’t care. She looked too good in that dress, and I’d been ignoring her too much these last couple of weeks. Hunting down Jarvis was a full-time job, and I knew I had to find him before he found me again—that was the only way I could keep Cora safe. I kept telling myself that each day I went out on the hunt and left her back home to fend for herself. I wasted two weeks like that, trying to protect her by ignoring her, and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

  “How about we stick to the task at hand.” She reached back and pulled my fingers from her lower back, but laced them through her own and squeezed.

  I smiled at her and nodded at the crowd. “Be my guest. Do you know which guy is the police chief?”

  She hesitated. “Black guy with the hat?”

  “Close. Chief Richards is a black gentleman, that’s true, but he’s not wearing a hat.” I squinted and noticed the man she was looking at. “I’m pretty sure that’s a judge.”

  “Maybe he can get us out of this crap,” she grumbled.

  I laughed and squeezed her palm before tugging her along after me. She stumbled a bit in her high heels, but kept pace admirably as I weaved my way through the crowd.

  There were tables set up on the dance floor with various items lined up along them. There was an oil painting, some movie props, some tickets to the theater, and a few other random objects, and each item had a sheet in front of it. It was a silent auction for a charity, and based on the numbers I saw written down, I guessed it was a charity everyone really cared about.

  “Anything catch your eye?”

  She gave me a look. “We’re not here for this.”

  “Come on. Indulge me.”

  She let out a breath and scanned the items before nodding. “How about that?”

  I followed her gaze then laughed. I walked over and stood in front of a strand of Christmas lights—that were allegedly used during the filming of Home Alone. “Seriously?”

  “I like that movie,” she said. “Besides, everything else is a little bit—”

  “Tacky? Expensive?”

  “Boring.”

  I gave her a look then leaned down and wrote a number on the piece of paper. She squinted at it and sucked in a breath. “Reid. What the hell?”

  “You want it, right?”

  “Not that badly.”

  “You’re worth it.”

  “Reid.” She tried to get past me, maybe thinking she could erase the number or scratch it out, but I caught her wrist and steered her away. She struggled ever so slightly, but obviously was afraid to make a scene. I liked that about her—conscious of the room around her, even when she wanted to scream and hit and bite and hiss.

  We did a lap in angry silence, or at least she was angry. I was elated and having a good time. The whiskey was good, the room was crowded enough that I felt like I could get lost in it, and I was going to win a nice prize for my wife. I still had a job to do, but I was in no hurry to get it done, and I took her on a couple laps, enjoying the attention she drew from the men around us. A few of the more enterprising ones came up and introduced themselves, along with several men I already knew, but we were mostly left alone.

  After our third circuit, she pulled away and sat down in a chair. “I’m done walking,” she announced.

  I laughed and sat next to her. A man standing at the front of the room announced that bidding would end in ten minutes, and that they’d read out the winners shortly.

  “You know, these people throw events like this all the time.”

  She made a face. “I can’t imagine.”

  “It’s hard to picture for regular humans.”

  “Do you get invited often?”

  “Never, not before you.”

  “Then how do you know these people?”

  I took a breath and tilted my head. “Lots of ways. Some of them owe me money. Some of them buy my drugs. Most of them know Hedeon and know me through him.”

  “Come on. State senators buy drugs from you?”

  “More than one, actually. What you fail to comprehend is that these are still people—people with a lot of money, but still flawed and broken and fucked up.”

  “Just hard to picture some senator coming to one of your corners.”

  “We make house calls when the client is important enough.”

  She rolled her eyes and stretched her legs. “Why are you telling me all this? Are you trying to impress me?”

  I considered that for a moment. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to tell her about my business. Maybe it was vanity, or maybe it was something else.

  “No, I don’t think you’d be impressed by any of this. I think I just want you to know about what I do.”

  She gave me a look that I couldn’t quite read and before she could say anything, I spotted Police Chief Richards walking nearby with a drink in his hand and a happy rosy complexion. He was a portly man with short hair and an easy laugh that made people feel comfortable—which was how he rose so quickly through the ranks. I stood and took Cora’s hand and tugged her along after me.

  “Reid—what the hell?”

  “Chief Richards,” I said, loud enough for him to hear me. He paused and looked back, and a moment of confusion passed across his face before he realized who I was.

  “Mr. Reid,” he said. “How lovely to see you this evening.”

  “Chief.” I nodded to him. “Just Reid. This is my wife, Cora.”

  She smiled and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “How are you finding the auction?” Chief Richards asked. “I hope you didn’t go overboard. That stuff’s mostly junk.”

  “Oh, I put in some good bids. I think we’ll walk away happy.”

  He gave me that winning laugh and patted my arm. “Good, good. Well, listen—”

  “Chief, I was hoping we could speak for a moment.” I moved closer to him, not so close as to draw attention, but I wanted him focused on me. I could tell he was slightly drunk, but not so hammered that he wouldn’t remember this conversation. “My boss sent me here to have a conversation.”

  His eyes narrowed. Despite the friendly demeanor, Chief Richards was a snake and a shrewd man. Nobody reached his position without some measure of aggression and cunning.

  “Well, maybe we can make an appointment and speak at a better time? This is a charity event, after all.”

  “More reason to talk now, Chief,” I pressed. “My boss is keenly interested in a particular investigation.”

  “Well, Reid, maybe—”

  “Chief,” Cora said, smiling at him kindly. “Do you like Home Alone?”

  He narrowed his eyes, confusion drifting into his expression. My jaw clenched and I wanted to tell her to back off—but I saw something in her body language that made me stop.

  “You mean, the movie?”

  “We plan on winning those Christmas lights. What do you think about that? Are they real?”

  He gave her that laugh and shrugged. “I suppose they are. One of the donors is a Hollywood producer. You know the type.”

  “Reid bid on them for me. All I did was mention that I liked the film and he just—he put down a number. What kind of man does that?”

  Chief Richards looked at me. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  “A smart one. And a kind one.” She beamed. “The kind of man that knows things.”

  “You should listen to her, Chief,” I said. “She knows what she’s talking about.”

  “I’m sure she does,” he murmured.

  “I think I’m going to go look at those lights again. You two boys have some catching up to do, right?” She grinned at him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Chief. He doesn’t bite.”

  Chief Richards looked utterly bemused as she walked off, gliding through the crowd and toward the auction tables.

  I looked back at him
and he shook his head. “You have quite the wife.”

  “I know, I tell myself that every day.”

  He sighed and sipped his drink. “Thirty seconds. What does Hedeon want?”

  “You have the wrong guy.”

  “We know that. Don’t matter.”

  “You let him take the fall and you’re going to piss my boss off.”

  “Should we care?” He waved a hand. “You folks can’t get away with everything, you know. Sometimes, you’ve got to go down.”

  “We understand that, but you can’t just take whoever you want. There are rules, and as soon as you start breaking them, the other families are going to notice.” I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “Maybe you can push us around right now, but my wife’s family? They won’t be happy.”

  He sighed and wiped a palm across his cheek in a nervous gesture. “I have a feeling you’re overstepping right now by bringing them into this.”

  “I’m only stating facts. They’d be pissed if they knew I said that—but they couldn’t deny that I’m right.”

  He gave me a long, flat look, and I stared right back. Chief Richards was a snake all right, and not a stupid one, either. He knew that if he started yanking made men off the streets on trumped-up charges then we’d start making his life a lot harder. Violence could follow, and he didn’t want his police in an all-out war with the mafia, not in this day and age—not when there was a camera in every pocket and a would-be journalist on every corner. That wouldn’t go well for him.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said, his tone neutral. “You tell your wife that I said I hope she enjoys her lights.”

  “I will, Chief.”

  He turned and left. I lingered for a moment, watching after him as he blended in with a nearby crowd of old men in tuxes, his face shifting effortlessly into a smile, that laugh already spilling out among them. I shook my head and turned away, only to find Cora standing nearby, watching intently.

  “How’d that go?” she asked.

  “Good. Better than I expected, thanks to you.”

  “He needed to be calmed down a little. I think you scared him.”

  I tilted my head and let out a laugh. “Hard to imagine.”

  “You’re an intimidating man, you know that, don’t you?”

  “I know that he’s not the jolly, happy-go-lucky guy he pretends to be.”

  “Fair enough.” She finished her glass of wine. “Are we done here?”

  “Not yet.” I took her hand and steered her to an empty table. I sat her down, got her another drink, and by the time I returned, they were announcing winners of the auction.

  I didn’t watch the man behind the podium as he read names and bids. I watched her face, and when he got to the Home Alone Christmas lights and said my name and number—her eyes lit up and she smiled, really smiled with a genuine, childish joy. That was the look I wanted, the whole reason I bid in the first place. I didn’t give a damn about winning, about a charity, about anything but making her happy and seeing that giddy, girlish look in her eyes.

  I wrote a fat check, collected the lights, and presented them to her as we walked out into the evening. She held the clear plastic box with its letter of authenticity tucked into the bottom and laughed like she really meant it, and I felt damn good for the first time since Jarvis tried to murder us in the street.

  We walked hand in hand down the sidewalk and around the corner to where I’d parked the car—and I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. She was too busy staring at her Christmas lights to notice what had happened, and I had to pull on her hand to make her stop.

  All four tires of my car were flat. The rubber was slashed.

  “Oh my god.” She stared at the car then turned to me, eyes wide. “Reid? What happened?”

  I walked to the windshield and found a note pinned there on yellow lined paper. The handwriting was rough and scrawled like a child, but I could read it anyway.

  Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you.

  I crumpled the paper and stared at the flat tires.

  That bastard. Jarvis did this. Nobody else would be so bold or so stupid, not on a crowded Friday evening in downtown. No doubt multiple people saw him do it and nobody stopped it—or if they had tried, Jarvis scared them off.

  “We’ll call a car.”

  “Reid? What did that say?”

  I gave her a flat look. “You’re coming out with me tomorrow.”

  She blinked and took a step back. “What do you mean, out?”

  “You know what I mean.” I looked down at my phone and ordered a car. “Be ready by ten.”

  “Wait. Reid.”

  I gave her a hard look. “Be ready by ten.”

  She opened her mouth then clamped her jaw shut. Anger fell across her expression like a hood and I felt the distance between us open up again, deeper and wider than ever.

  10

  Cora

  I stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my middle and stared at the Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling. I knew I shouldn’t have used them—but they were the only thing I had that really felt like mine, and it made me happy to see them there, so screw it. I didn’t care if they were one of a kind.

  My eyes drifted to the clock. Just after nine in the morning. I felt a strange stab of panic that I pushed back. I couldn’t lose it, not right now, not when things were starting to look up—at least a little bit. Last night was a lot of fun, even though I hated to admit it, and I actually enjoyed being around Reid for a little while. I almost forgot he was a gangster, almost forgot that I was supposed to hate his guts and let myself be present in the moment for a little while. We were a good team, and I loved the attention he gave me, loved the way his eyes slipped down my body. I knew what he was thinking, and I wanted it just as bad as he did, even if admitting that to myself made me sick.

  I pulled on jeans, a sweatshirt, and a pair of boots. I thought about putting on makeup, but skipped it, and tied my hair back to keep it out of my eyes. I found Reid downstairs drinking coffee and he looked up with a glimmer of surprise as I poured myself a mug.

  “You’re early.”

  “Figured I didn’t want to piss off the boss.”

  He gave me a wary look. Smart man.

  “All right. We’re leaving soon, so eat if you want.”

  I shrugged, drank coffee. “I’m ready now if you are.”

  He looked at his empty plate then downed his coffee and stood. “I’ll get my shit.”

  I watched him go and let out a breath. My stomach was a bundle of nerves and I didn’t know what to expect from today, but I didn’t want to distract him at all if possible, and so I was going out of my way to be nice. It wasn’t easy, since all I really wanted to do was call him an asshole and be done with it—but I figured it was safer for me if his head was in the game.

  He came down a minute later and led me out to the car. I got in and buckled my seatbelt as he pulled out into traffic.

  “Same as the last time?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “We’re doing it a little different now.”

  “Because of—” I didn’t want to say his name, so I let it hang in the air.

  He grunted. “That’s right. Can’t make it too easy on him.”

  “Have you, uh, you know, found him yet?”

  “Not yet. Sighting, rumors, but not the man himself.” His jaw tightened. “Last night’s the closest I’ve been to him.”

  Last night. The slashed tires. I flashed back to the look on his face as he stared at the car, the pure, intense rage that radiated trough his body. It scared the hell out of me at the time, but now it felt oddly comforting.

  We drifted into silence and I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said suddenly, hands gripping the steering wheel.

  “What’s that?” I asked, genuinely not sure.

  “You think I can’t protect you. You’re thinking about the last time,
and you’re wondering—maybe it’s safer if you didn’t come.”

  “That’s not what I’m thinking,” I said, but he didn’t seem to hear me.

  “Last time was a mistake. I take responsibility for that. But there won’t be a next time, not from some two-bit thug like Jarvis. I can promise you that.”

  I reached out suddenly, not thinking about it. I put my hand on his shoulder and looked at him, not sure what I was thinking and not sure why I cared—it wasn’t like it mattered to me if he was angry with himself.

  “I know that,” I said, voice soft.

  He grunted and glanced at me, then tilted his head and gave me his gorgeous smirk, the one that pissed me off and drove me wild.

  “Don’t worry, little dove. You’re in good hands.”

  I pulled away and rolled my eyes. We lapsed into silence again, but this time the tension seemed to break, which felt like a win at least.

  He stopped a few minutes later in front of a boring row home. Enrico and Aldrik came out moments later and hopped into the back. I turned back to give them a pleasant smile, and Enrico frowned in my face.

  “Glad you’re tagging along,” Enrico said, although he didn’t look anywhere near glad. “Boss, we still on schedule?”

  “We are indeed.” Reid put the car back into gear and began to drive.

  I tried to ignore Reid’s two guys but they were impossible to miss. Aldrik kept shifting from side to side like he couldn’t get comfortable and Enrico’s scowl looked like it might melt the side of the car in half—and I wondered if they were angry about my presence, or if they were pissed off about the job we had to do. I wasn’t sure which was better though, since on the one hand they disliked me personally, and on the other we were going out on some bad mission that even Reid’s own guys didn’t want to do.

  “Job’s simple,” Reid said, his voice soft, breaking the dense silence. “We’re picking up a package and dropping it off somewhere else, just like last time.”

  “Minus the ambush,” I said.

  “Hopefully.” Reid smiled a little. “Although I brought these two along just in case. They’re more than up for a fight.”

  “Up for a fight?” Aldrik snorted. “I live for a damn fight. It’s in my blood.”