Wife For Him: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I must’ve drifted off—because the next thing I knew, an enormous, house-shaking explosion went off somewhere outside.

  I rolled out of bed and strangled a scream. My ears rang and I heard shouting outside. I ran to the window and stared out, trying to see what was going on, but I didn’t have a good view. I saw paper fluttering in the air and thought there were chunks of metal—maybe a side mirror from a car—and the flickering shadows of fire. I smelled smoke when I opened the window and heard more shouting, more yelling. Footsteps stomped around the house and I knew something big happened.

  I pulled on my shoes and socks, heart racing. I didn’t know what was going on or what I thought I could do about it, but I wanted to be ready just in case. As the shouting got louder, and began to reach a panicked note, I heard steps outside. I stood up, figuring this was it—Vincent was coming for me, maybe using the chaos as an opportunity to make me disappear.

  The door unlocked with a loud thud. I stood there, heart racing, bruises aching, but nobody came through. I took a few steps toward the door, but only heard the yelling from downstairs. I reached out for the knob, turned it—and pushed it open.

  The hallway was empty.

  I stood in the doorway, confused as hell, not sure what was going on. The shouting came through clearer. They were trying to put out a fire that was raging downstairs, and I heard snippets of what had happened—some sort of car accident.

  Someone had unlocked my door. I didn’t know who, and some part of me thought this was a test, and maybe I should turn around and head back into my room—but no, I couldn’t do that, even if this was a loyalty test, I had to take the chance. I was willing to fail if it meant I could go free.

  I began to walk as fast as I could in the opposite direction of the shouting men. I saw the staircase that led back down into the kitchen and started formulating my plan of escape—

  When a pair of hands flew out from a dark room on my right, grabbed me and yanked me inside, a hand covering my mouth, pressing down hard enough to stop the scream that tried to rip out from my throat.

  23

  Reid

  I leaned up against an old Volkswagen Beetle and peered into the back seat. Small, wrapped brown bundles were lined up along the floor with a small square circuit board and a red LED light on top of it. We stood outside a low, gray building, the car parked next to the curb. Streetlight dripped yellow light down around our feet and people walked past on the opposite sidewalk. It was a clear, crisp night, almost comfortable, ten minutes past midnight, and I wondered if the weather would hold off for a little bit longer. I turned back to Aldrik, frowning and shaking my head.

  “Tell me this is going to work.”

  Aldrik gave me the thumbs-up. “It’ll work, boss. I rigged it myself.”

  “That’s not exactly making me feel better.”

  Enrico laughed and nudged against Aldrik. “Say what you will about him, but Aldrik knows his explosives.”

  “It’s a pretty simple setup,” he said. “C4 wrapped in burlap along the floor with a remote detonator. I have it programmed to my phone, so all I have to do is send the trigger and boom, up it goes.”

  “How big of an explosion?”

  Aldrik hesitated, making a face. “Big enough to get their attention.”

  I stared at him. “Aldrik. Be specific.”

  He grinned. “Uh, well, it’ll blow a hole in the building for sure, but it won’t level the block. How’s that sound?”

  I grimaced and sighed. Fortunately, the mansion took up the entire block, so there wouldn’t be any collateral damage unless something went really wrong.

  Which was possible, of course. I was letting them drive a car bomb up to the front doors of the Leone family’s headquarters, and trusting that Aldrik could rig it right without wrecking something important. I wanted to double-check his work, but I didn’t know dick about bombs either, and so I had to trust him—even if I didn’t want to.

  This was a really shitty plan. We’d come up with it on the fly and had a day to throw it together. The Beetle was an absurd choice of car but it was the first one we came across. Enrico stole it and drove it to a garage we own, where Aldrik got to work rigging it to blow. I spent the afternoon pacing around, cursing to myself, wondering if Aldrik was going to get us all killed, but by the time sunset came, it seemed as though it might actually happen.

  Enrico dug inside a black bag he had at his feet and came up with a blue shirt. “Here, here. Put this on.”

  I held it up and looked at the logo on the right chest pocket. “Sanford Bro’s Electrical? What the hell is this?”

  “That’s the company that does the Leones’ house,” he said. “Heard about them from a friend and managed to snag you a shirt.”

  “How’d you manage that?”

  He grinned and shrugged. “That friend happens to work at a garment company that happens to make those shirts.”

  I laughed, stripped off my shirt, threw it on the ground, and pulled the blue polo over my head. It fit, but barely. I tucked it into my jeans, feeling like a nerd, but I figured a real worker would do that much at least.

  “How do I look?”

  “Like a real working stiff.” Enrico crossed his arms. “You ready for this, boss?”

  “I got the easy part.”

  He snorted. “Hardly. You’re the one going inside.”

  “And you’re the one driving in that death trap.”

  “Not a death trap,” Aldrik grumbled.

  “Don’t worry about us,” Enrico said. “We know what to do. You get into position and wait for us to do our thing and then make your move, all right? Get the girl, bring her out, and we’ll be waiting nearby.”

  “Roger that.” I had the suddenly impulse to shake his hand, but pushed it away. I had to keep steady and controlled. “I’m heading out. You two follow soon.”

  “See you on the other side, boss.” He grinned at me, and I saw a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. Enrico had a wild streak about him, a little reckless and stupid sometimes, and the man lived for this sort of shit—which was probably why he agreed in the first place.

  “It’ll work,” Aldrik said as I looked at him. “Cross my heart and all that.”

  “For your sakes, I hope that’s true.” I turned and left them standing next to the rigged Beetle. My car was parked a block over. I got behind the wheel and sat there for a second, getting myself together, taking deep breaths. The weight of my gun in my waistband was comforting against the small of my back, and I knew that I might not come home after this, that I might be driving to my own death—but fuck it, I couldn’t leave Cora behind.

  They took my wife. They had to pay.

  I started the engine and drove. Staff entered the Leone mansion through the back, but I couldn’t just pull up and park with all the other employees. I found a spot a few blocks away and got out, walking through the crisp evening. When I got close to the mansion, I slowed down and casually leaned up against a bodega catty-corner to the back entrance. I watched guys come and go carrying boxes, trash, packages, bags of shit I didn’t recognize. I checked my watch: twenty after midnight. Ten minutes until the explosion.

  As I stood there, I thought about Cora. I wondered if they were treating her okay, if she was safe, if she was even still in there—it was very possible that they’d taken her and moved her somewhere else. I couldn’t go down that path though, I had to assume she was safe and waiting for me. I didn’t know what we’d do after this, since the second I went in there and extracted her, we’d both be targets. Hedeon would want to kill me, and Vincent would want to get her back—and also kill me. Hell, maybe she’d refuse to come with.

  If that happened, I’d let her stay. She owed me nothing and I wouldn’t take more from her than she’d already given. If this was going to work—if we were going to make a life for ourselves and have something I never dreamed of wanting or needing—then she’d have to be in it with me.

  Uncertainty swirled around me, but
I battled it away. This wasn’t the moment for self-doubt. I had to believe that she wanted me to come in there and take her away, that she wanted me as much as I wanted her, and do what I could to make that happen.

  I checked my watch—one minute. I stood there waiting, counted off thirty seconds, then started toward the building.

  It was probably a bad idea, walking toward an explosion. I realized that halfway there, but it was too late to turn back. One guy in a black shirt and black pants spotted me and frowned, but he seemed to recognized the symbol on my chest as I approached. He looked like he wanted to say something, opened his mouth to call out—

  But an explosion rocked the street.

  I cursed and nearly fell off my feet. The smell of fire, ozone, and smoke burst up into the air. Shouts and screams pierced the night as car alarms blared up and down the block. I stifled a joyous laugh as people scattered in fear.

  Aldrik did it. The whole block hadn’t gone up, but that was one hell of an explosion, and I could only imagine what the front looked like. Bastard Leone family deserved it, and I could only hope that it was burning down that ostentatious crystal chandelier.

  The guy in all black turned from me and ran inside. He reached into his jacket pocket for something as he disappeared, and I realized he must’ve been security. I followed him, slipping through a mob of confused employees, and stepped into a short hall that opened into the kitchen.

  I heard more shouting as people ran all over. I spotted several cooks crouched down under counters, looking horrified. I couldn’t blame them—probably some of them remembered the last time the place was attacked, and maybe they thought that their lives were in danger.

  I spotted one guy huddled in a small broom closet to my left. He was skinny, pale skin, blue eyes, wearing a white apron and a tall hat—probably a pastry chef or some shit. I walked over and grabbed him by the lapels, yanking him from the closet, and threw him into the wall. He gasped in surprise and pain, throwing his hands up.

  “I’m looking for a girl,” I said through clenched teeth. “Pretty, just came in yesterday.”

  “I don’t know— we don’t see—” He stuttered, eyes wide.

  I hit him in the face, not so hard that it would knock him out, but hard enough to hurt. Several of the other cooks gaped at me with open shock, but I didn’t have time for them.

  “Someone came in yesterday.”

  “We sent up food,” he gasped, cringing away from me. “Second floor. I don’t know which room. They don’t tell us anything.”

  I grunted and scanned the room. I looked back at him and he pointed, flinching away from me, toward a staircase in the far left corner of the room. I smiled, thanked him, and strode over toward it.

  As I reached the bottom, a guard in all black came down toward me. I cursed as he looked at me, frowned, and looked over at the kitchen guy I just roughed up.

  “He attacked me!” the kitchen guy screamed.

  I rolled my eyes and darted forward. The guard stumbled back, clearly not ready as I bowled into him, slamming my shoulder into his chest and knocking him off his feet. I kicked him in the ribs hard then reached down into his hip holster and ripped out his gun. His body jerked as I squeezed off two shots, blood spraying against my legs and feet.

  Someone screamed and the kitchen emptied as everyone ran.

  I stepped over the dead guard. I hoped the sound of those two shots hadn’t been loud enough to alert the whole place, but I couldn’t be sure. I crept up to the first landing, listened, then went around the corner. I finished climbing to the second floor and peered down a long, fashionably decorated hallway with thick, plush rugs, wood paneling on the walls, and a scattering of oil paintings and statues.

  There were multiple doors leading into at least ten different rooms. I heard more shouting from the other end of the hall, and I guess that was the front of the building. I hurried up and began walking, staying close to the wall, the gun held at my side and slightly behind me so that someone coming the other way wouldn’t see it at first glance.

  I had no clue which room she’d be in. I kicked open a random door—and found a dark bedroom with a queen bed covered in pristine covers.

  I peered back out into the hall, looking both ways, then froze. I recognized Dante coming toward me from the opposite direction and pulled back into the room. I waited a second before peeking out again, lowering down closer to the floor, but he hadn’t noticed me and seemed intent on one thing: stopping in front of a door in the center of the hall and unlocking it.

  I didn’t know what the hell he was doing there, but he knew my face and could give me away. I sucked in a couple calming breaths as he stood in front of the unlocked door, frowning at it. He seemed to be wrestling with something, but quickly turned and stalked back the way he’d come. He disappeared down the stairs, his voice echoing up over the other shouts. I stayed hidden, not sure what he’d just done, and watched as the door opened—

  And Cora stepped out.

  It took me a few seconds to understand what I’d seen. Dante came upstairs, unlocked her door, and then left. I didn’t know why he’d do that, but clearly, she’d been locked in there, and he set her free. Maybe he felt bad for her, or maybe they had a deal—but either way, Cora stood there, twenty feet away from me. She seemed to study the empty hallway then turned and walked toward me.

  I let her get close, inches away, before reaching out and grabbing her.

  She tried to scream, but I covered her mouth. She struggled, elbowed me in the chest, and only relaxed when I pinned her against the wall and whispered her name.

  “Cora, it’s me.”

  She blinked once, twice, and I dropped my hand from her lips. God, that mouth, that tongue—I felt my heart skip beats as I held her pinned against the wall.

  “Reid,” she said, and for a second I thought she was angry. I couldn’t read her expression until she threw herself against me.

  I kissed her with a hungry passion. All my uncertainty blew away as I held her tight against me, and I remembered the hours we spent in bed enjoying each other, exploring each other’s bodies, and I knew this was the right thing to do—no matter how reckless, how stupid. This was my Cora, my wife, mine.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I came for you.”

  She blinked then a smile lit up her face. “The explosion?”

  “Aldrik and Enrico.” I grinned back at her. “It’s pretty bad down there.”

  “How did you know which room I was in?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t. Dante came up and unlocked your door. I was waiting for him to leave when you stepped into the hall.”

  Confusion crossed her face. “Dante?”

  “I don’t know what you did, but I guess he felt bad for you.” I touched her face, suddenly noticing her black eye. “What did they do to you?”

  “Vincent,” she said, looking away. “I rejected a deal and this is how he reacted.”

  I cursed and balled my hands into fists—but didn’t have time to find him and murder him for hurting my wife.

  “Come on,” I said, my voice a growl, and took her hand in mine. “We have to run.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.” I hesitated then looked at her. “But if you come with me—you’re with me. Do you understand?”

  She nodded once. “I don’t need to think about it. Let’s go.”

  I pulled her out into the hall. Men were still shouting downstairs but it sounded less urgent. Sirens sounded in the distance and I guessed they called the fire department. I tugged her back toward the staircase I’d come up, walking as fast as I could. I didn’t know who’d be down there, and if they found that body, I might be in some trouble, but there was no time to find another way out.

  I went down first, keeping her behind me and the gun ready. The first landing was empty, and I peered around the corner.

  The dead guard lay at the floor of the stairs, b
lood leaking from his skull in a wide puddle. Two more men stood over him, one of them speaking into a radio. I couldn’t hear what he said, but both of their faces were grim.

  I looked back at Cora. “Don’t move,” I whispered in her ear. “Stay here. I’ll be back for you.”

  Fear flashed in her eyes. “Wait. Reid.”

  “Trust me.” I kissed her, bit her plump bottom lip, then turned the corner.

  The guards weren’t ready for more. I took out the guy with the radio first, putting one in his chest and the other in his skull. He dropped backwards, mouth open in a shocked grimace. The other raised his weapon and fired a shot, but it landed short of me, smashing into the stairs at my feet as I fired two rounds into his chest. He staggered back and I barreled into the kitchen, kicking him over and finishing him off with a headshot. Blood splattered the floor and walls, but there was nobody else around, the rest of the guards presumably fighting the fire.

  I turned, went back up, grabbed Cora’s hand, and pulled her down behind me. As I reached the bottom and started running for the back door, guards appeared in the far entrance. They fired at us, the bullets ricocheting off the stainless steel appliances and racks. I shoved Cora toward the door as I returned fire, missing them but buying her time. Once she was out, I fired off the rest of my magazine wildly before tossing the gun and sprinting after her.

  I made it out onto the street. She looked around wildly, eyes wide with fear and confusion. “This way,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind me. Kitchen workers milled around the street and I recognized the guy I’d roughed up. He stared at me, terror in his expression, and he started to back away as I winked at him.

  We reached the intersection and I stopped, looking around wildly. “They’re supposed to be here,” I said through a clenched jaw. I heard shouting behind us, and I knew the guards were coming.