Bratva Sinner: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  He barely looked up. “What do you want?” he asked, like it was normal for people to surround him like this.

  “You’re Ryan Melino, right?” Luke leaned toward him. “How about I buy you another drink?”

  Captain Melino looked up, frowned, and shrugged. He tossed back the whiskey then waved it toward the bartender. She scowled, but Luke put some cash on the bar, and that got her moving. She refilled the drink then returned to her game.

  “Thanks,” Captain Melino grunted. “I still don’t know what you want, though.”

  “My name’s Luke. I’m with the Morozov family.”

  Captain Melino tensed. “I don’t work major crimes. I don’t give a shit about you mobsters.”

  “I’m not here about any outstanding cases.” Luke smiles and leaned closer. “I’m here about the dossier the Lionetti family keeps on you.”

  Captain Melino didn’t move. He looked like a squirrel standing in front of an angry dog about to charge. I wasn’t sure if the captain would bolt or fight or roll over and die.

  He picked up his drink and tossed it back. “Buy me another.”

  Luke obeyed. The bartender poured, looking a little put out, then groaned at the TV.

  “I bet you’ve heard the rumor that their dossier got pinched by some mid-level thief not too long ago. I’m here to let you know that the rumor’s true.”

  Captain Melino sipped the whiskey and eyed Luke. “I’m guessing it’s in your possession now, is that right?”

  “That’s right.” Luke leaned forward. “Tell him, Cara.”

  “We know all about your nightly tastes,” I said, leaning closer to him. “And your halfmillion debt.” I waggled my eyebrows. “Been playing a lot of cards?”

  “Dice,” he grunted. “All right, so you guys got the files. Good for you two. What the fuck do you want?”

  Luke raised his eyebrows at me and cleared his throat. “I want you to deliver a message to your chief.”

  Captain Melino snorted. “Yeah, all right, I can do that, but I’ll tell you right now, Chief James is a stickler piece of shit and he’s not going to listen to anything a guy like you has to say, no offense.”

  “None taken. We already tried, and you’re right on that assessment. But the thing is, Chief James is in the dossier, and I don’t think he really, truly understands the gravity of his situation.”

  Captain Melino’s eyes went bugged and he sat up straight. “You’re kidding me. He’s in the folder?”

  “We’ve got a file on him a mile long,” I said, grinning. “You’d love the pictures.”

  Captain Melino blinked at me then burst out laughing. The bartender flinched like a gun went off then scowled and shook her head. Captain Melino leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his burly chest, grinning widely like he’d just won the lottery and the payout was twice as big as he thought.

  “God damn, Chief James is in the Lionetti files. You two realize that dossier’s famous among cops, right? We all fucking know about it, and we all know half the precinct is on their payroll and the other half’s in those pages. They run that place.” He shook his head, grinning. “I thought the chief took cash, but apparently not.”

  “He’s just as garbage as you are,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.

  He snorted at me. “I doubt it. Who the hell are you again?”

  “Cara,” I said, offering a hand, which he shook. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “So, what, you two are running the file now? The Morozov family’s in the blackmail business on top of the heroin business now too?”

  “Just me,” Luke said. “And I only want one thing out of you people, and then I plan on destroying the whole goddamn folder.”

  Captain Melino’s smile slowly faded. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Tell me something, Captain. What’s a guy in the Morozov family want more than anything? Who do you think we’d want to hurt?”

  “The Lionettis,” he said without hesitating. “Is that what this is about? You’re using it against them?”

  “You’re quick.” I said, nodding.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Let me understand this. You want me to go against the Lionettis because now you own the file that owns me, is that about right?”

  “More or less sums it up, but your role’s actually not all that big.” Luke leaned toward him. “I want you to talk to the chief and convince him that he’d better stop playing hard to get and start busting down Lionetti doors. They can’t hurt him anymore, but I can.”

  Captain Melino slowly shook his head. “You’re insane. That’ll never work.”

  “Tell me why not.”

  “Because even if you can convince Chief James to do what you want, which I sincerely doubt, the Lionettis are still paying off the rest of the cops.”

  “Then make sure the cops in my folder are prepared to get some revenge on the fuckers that put the screws to them.” I tapped at his drink with my knuckle. “You understand me?”

  Captain Melino’s eyes narrowed. He was a drunk and a gambler, but he didn’t seem stupid. He picked up the whiskey and tossed it back.

  “Let’s pretend I can make this happen, just for fun. Let’s say I can convince the chief to start making some arrests, to start hassling the Lionettis. What do I get?”

  “You get your debt wiped out. All of it, all half a million, gone. All the pictures, gone, everything gone. If you get your other cop buddies to play along, it’s a clean slate for everyone.”

  “Why would you ever do that?”

  “Because the Morozov family isn’t in the blackmail business.”

  He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. I could see it in the way his shoulders relaxed and his posture straightened out—he had hope.

  And hope was a dangerous thing.

  “How can I trust you?”

  “You can’t,” I said quickly before Luke could answer. “But I’m not directly involved in all this, so maybe you should trust me. I’ll personally burn the file and make sure all your problems go away.”

  He narrowed his eyes then looked up at the ceiling. “Another drink,” he said.

  Luke gestured, paid, and the bartender refilled. Captain Melino sipped it.

  “This is your one way out,” Luke said softly. “If you’re not going to help me, I’ll move on to the next guy in the folder, until one of you steps up and saves everyone. You want to be the hero for once?”

  “Yeah, fuck, all right.” Captain Melino squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again. Bright blue and shining with intensity. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Talk to your chief. Tell him I want arrests. I’ll hear as soon as the doors start getting kicked in, and then I’ll know you didn’t fuck me.”

  “And if I can’t convince him to play along?”

  “Then convince someone else to take initiative. I don’t care, so long as you start hamstringing the Lionettis. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about this for a very long time.”

  Captain Melino’s smile was the grin of a predator hanging around a watering hole. “A very long time,” he echoed.

  “Good man.” Luke patted his shoulder and stood up. “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”

  Captain Melino grunted and stooped over his drink again. He transformed from the confident, angry cop back into the quiet, pathetic drunk in the space of a few seconds. I wondered if maybe Luke was wrong about this guy, but then it didn’t matter—so long as we got results.

  I followed Luke back out to the car. “Rain stopped,” I said softly as I put on my seatbelt.

  He turned on the engine. “We’ll give him a week,” he said. “Then we’ll try the next guy on this list.”

  “Are you really going to destroy the dossier when this is all over?”

  He hesitated, squinting into traffic, then pulled out. “The Morozov family isn’t in the blackmail business. If these guys can help take a bite out of the Lionettis, that’s fine with
me.”

  I nodded and leaned my head on his shoulder and let him cruise along the streets, already thinking about what it would feel like to have him strip my clothes off and bite every inch of my skin.

  21

  Luke

  They were waiting as soon as we got back to my place.

  They probably tailed me from the bar. I must’ve missed them in the shit weather, or maybe I was distracted by the way Cara looked at me like as soon as we got inside she was going to rip off her clothes and let me do whatever I wanted with her—which was probably not far from the truth.

  I parked out in front of my house and went to open my door, and the scream of tires at the end of the block made my hands go numb with sudden shock.

  Cara said something. I didn’t hear. I leaned over her, grabbed my gun from the glove box, and opened her door. I shoved her out as the gunfire started and jumped across with her, covering her with my body.

  Glass shattered all over. I felt something bite into my shoulder, my arm, my leg. More gunshots, more screams, and it took me a few moments to realize it was Cara, shouting in terror.

  I rolled off her, buzzing with pain, and came up firing. Two black cars filled with men with submachine guns blazed at my car, wrecking it. German was on the far side of the block, and Yuri came running, both of them on guard duty for the day.

  “Stay down,” I shouted at Cara as I returned fire. Doors opened and more stepped out.

  I recognized a couple faces.

  They were Lionettis, finally here to end me.

  German flanked them from the opposite end. He fired rapidly, killed one, but had to duck into cover as they returned fire. Yuri staggered sideways as two guys opened up on him. I shot one, winging him enough to make him back down, but the other pressed his advantage. I screamed for Yuri to drop down, but Yuri was a brave piece of shit, and he tried to return fire.

  The bullet took him in the forehead. His skull snapped back and he crumpled down, dead in an instant, his brains splattered across the car.

  I shouted wordless rage and charged his murderer. I shot him three times before I had to duck back into cover. Cara was pinned down between the curb and my car’s wheels, curled up in a ball and hiding. She was safe enough, and I reloaded my gun, grimacing as pain washed over me.

  Blood drenched my arm and my leg. I was hit at least twice, maybe three times, I couldn’t be sure. I felt dizzy with adrenaline and fear as I squeezed off a few shots at the guys hovering around their car, shooting back at German and trying to keep me pinned. Two of them were dead and four were left standing.

  I wanted them all. I wanted their blood and guts for Yuri. I was supposed to protect my men and keep them safe, not throw them into the middle of a firefight and get their brains blown out. They knew the risks, but this was too much.

  I threw myself sideways and shot one guy in the calf. He gasped, dropping down to his knees, and I shot him in the head. I rolled under a car as they returned fire, and German took the opportunity to make a break for it, getting a better angle. He killed one guy, leaving only two standing. One tried to get back into their SUV but I crawled out from under the car, leaving a trail of blood behind me, and charged.

  I shot in the window, killing the young guy trying desperately to start the engine again. His blood splattered the window and made it impossible to see the last guy, hiding on the far side, but German was already there. I heard a scream, three shots, and then nothing.

  I slumped down onto the street, breathing hard, sweating like crazy and bleeding. It felt like my body was about to give out—when I heard a groan from not too far away.

  One of the Lionetti boys was still alive.

  I crawled over to him. The man was young, in his early twenties, with thick eyebrows and dark hair. He was bleeding from a chest wound and when he coughed, blood splattered from his lips. I grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him, then slammed him back down against the ground.

  “Why’d you come after me?” I growled, as if I didn’t know the answer.

  “Boss is pissed,” the guy said, staring up at the sky with wide eyes. Blood dribbled down the corner of his lips. “Cops came. Arrested… fuck.” He tried to suck in another breath, but it sounded like his lungs were blocked—likely filled with blood.

  I pressed my gun against his head and put him out of his misery.

  “Luke!” Cara staggered over to me as I rolled onto my back with a groan. German appeared beside her, looking grim.

  “Yuri?” I grunted.

  “Dead,” German said.

  “Fuck.” I squeezed my eyes shut as Cara knelt next to me.

  “You’re hurt,” she said, touching me gently, trying to pull my clothes away from the wounds. Fresh blood seeped out and I shivered in pain. “You need a doctor.”

  “Already calling,” German said, shoving a phone against his head. “Drag him inside, away from all this. Cops are going to come soon.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered to Cara, reaching up to touch her cheek. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

  “Fuck that,” she said and stood up. She grabbed me by the arms and heaved, dragging me across the pavement. I gasped in pain, but she didn’t stop, putting all her strength into it. She got me up to the curb and onto the sidewalk before German appeared and helped get me up the stoop and into the house.

  I must’ve passed out at that point, because I couldn’t remember how I ended up on the couch. Fresh towels were shoved against my wounds and the cushions beneath me felt sodden and damp.

  Cara hovered above me and German paced across the living room, checking out the front blinds every few minutes.

  “Hey,” she whispered and took my hand in hers. “German said the doctor’s on the way. He’s talking to your Pakhan right now. Apparently, the cops hit the Lionettis hard.”

  “Good.” I grinned at her. “Serves them right.”

  “Seems like the captain got through to the chief.” Her smile was strained, her face ashen white, her eyes watery and wild. “All you have to do is hold on, okay? The doctor will be here soon.”

  “Cara.” I pulled her hand against my lips. God, what I wouldn’t give for one more night with her—

  But I had my night. I could savor that at least.

  “Don’t say something stupid,” she whispered, visibly fighting tears.

  “I love you. Have ever since I saw you in that alley.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “God, no, don’t say it now, okay? You can tell me whatever you want later, after you’re better. Don’t say that like you’re going to die.”

  “Cara,” I said softly, but managed to smile. “All right. I’ll tell you all the filthy things I want from you when I make it through this.”

  She laughed once, sharp and pained. “I give you permission to think up the dirtiest, most debased things you can possibly imagine, and I’ll sit there and listen to it all, just make sure you live, okay?”

  “For the chance to whisper all that in your ear, I’ll do my very best.”

  She squeezed my hand, but it felt very far away. Dizzy exhaustion hit me like a gunshot to the head and I blinked, trying to get the darkness from my vision, trying to hold on to her face for just a few more seconds—

  22

  Cara

  Pakhan Evgeni sat across from me and glowered down at his cup of tea.

  The house was dead silent except for the sound of German pacing over and over again. I’d never seen him so anxious before—he was like a man waiting for his wife to give birth.

  Or like a man waiting for his boss to die.

  Evgeni lifted his tea to his lips and took a long sip. Outside, cops took witness statements—though Evgeni swore nobody would say a word about me or German or Luke, not in this neighborhood. I believed him, since the police hadn’t kicked down our door yet.

  Otherwise, I was sure Chief James would’ve taken his chance. We were sitting ducks if the cops came, and they’d easily be able to confiscate that dossier an
d make it disappear.

  “You don’t know how much trouble you’ve been,” Evgeni said softly, almost as if talking to himself.

  “I’m sorry if it’s been hard on you,” I said, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone. “I didn’t exactly ask for any of this.”

  “And yet you’ve seen it through.”

  I paused, glanced at German. “Luke can be convincing.”

  Evgeni laughed. “That’s true. He’s charismatic, that one. There’s a reason I gave him control of a crew and let him do more or less whatever he wants. There aren’t many men in my family with so much latitude.”

  I studied Evgeni for a moment when the sound of footsteps on the stairs made me stand almost involuntarily. The doctor came down, wiping his hands on a towel and looking exhausted. He’d been up there for several hours working on Luke, and we had no clue what was going to happen.

  “He’s awake,” the doctor said, a slim man with round spectacles and a receding hairline. He wore a white button-down rolled at the elbows and black slacks. “And he’ll live.”

  Relief flooded me and I sank back down in the chair. “Oh, thank god.”

  “How bad is he, Doctor?” German asked.

  The doctor adjusted his glasses. “The wounds are surprisingly clean, actually. The problem was he lost a lot of blood, but I believe I’ve got him stabilized. The wounds are cleaned, stitched, and closed, and now he just needs to recover. I’m going to write a script for antibiotics, just to be on the safe side, and he needs to take it easy for a while, do you understand?”

  Evgeni stood and held up a hand. “You have my gratitude, Doctor.”

  The doctor nodded. “I appreciate that, Pakhan.”

  “Come, I will walk you to your car. Things are chaotic out there, for the moment.”

  “Thank you.” The doctor walked toward the door then looked back at me. “Keep him comfortable. I’ll return tomorrow to remove the IV line.”