FAMILY TIES: A Mafia Love Story (Erotic Mafia Romance)

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FAMILY TIES: A Mafia Love Story (Erotic Mafia Romance) Page 5

by Jordan, Angela


  The longer I spent having nightly dinners and conversations with him, drinks on the terrace and even the occasional morning jog in the park next door, the more time I spent trying to convince myself that what he said was true and a man really shouldn’t be judged by only the things he’d done in his past. When I was alone and not staring into his chocolate brown eyes that had the uncanny ability to look so innocent, I knew better. A good man could not stand behind a gun and pull the trigger if his life wasn’t being threatened. That was what I knew to be true, and if you compared the two opinions, it was nothing less that silly to think the first one could be correct.

  While Sammie and I prepared for the engagement party that would announce me to the city as his fiancé, I continued to go to work every day. I’d had a few near-misses with Nate who kept trying to corner me so we could talk. I’m sure he had plenty more pictures in his portfolio by now. I did pretty well evading him until I was forced to sit across from him during a staff meeting one day. He caught me as I was leaving and said,

  “Alana, please listen to me, okay? I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be,” I told him, “I’m fine. You see me here at work every day. Obviously, I’m doing well.”

  “Alana, did Sammie Romo happen to tell you that the last woman he married disappeared suddenly off the face of the earth, along with their child?”

  “She didn’t disappear….” I caught myself. I wasn’t going to give Nate any information. Instead I just said, “Stop worrying about me, Nate. I’m not yours to worry about.”

  As the night of the engagement party neared, I approached it with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. I was looking forward to at last putting a face to the men that Sammie had described to me so intimately and yet I had to remind myself that I would be breaking bread amongst the most notorious criminals in the city. What Nate told me about Sammie’s wife was gnawing at me too. Sammie never told me how she died. I had to wonder…

  That morning over breakfast as my hands shook almost too badly to allow me to butter my toast, Sammie told me,

  “Bella, I have arranged for a young lady named Marisela to come and help you get ready for the party tonight,”

  “I don’t think I need any help,” I told him.

  “Do you already have something that you plan to wear?”

  I did, but I worried that it was nice enough. From what I knew of Mafia wives and girlfriends, they all had a designer on speed dial.

  “I have a gown that I thought I’d wear….”

  “You can wear whatever you like, but I’ve asked Marisela to bring over a few

  gowns in order to give you a choice. If you like the one you have better, no one will be offended, okay?”

  Mr. “I have a tailor made suit in every color hanging in my closet ready to go,” said

  casually.

  “Okay, sure.” I told him. I’d learned another thing in the few weeks that I’d lived with Sammie…sometimes it was easier to let people do things for you and not argue every point.

  “If you’d like, she also does hair and make-up. There’s a box on the dresser in your room with your engagement ring in it. I’ll expect you to wear it from now on when you’re in public. After tonight, this engagement goes live.”

  I was stunned speechless. I suppose it was part of who he was and what he did that he thought of everything. After he left I went into my room. I saw the white velvet box on the dresser and went over to pick it up. It was tiny, it fit in the palm of my hand, but it was heavy. I flipped it open and nearly had a heart-attack on the spot.

  Inside the box was the largest single diamond that I’d ever personally seen. Sammie hadn’t just picked up a cheap ring for our “fake” engagement, he’d gone all out. There was a tiny little sticker inside the box that said it was a “Verragio original.” It was a three or maybe four carat oval diamond enhanced by probably another total carat of round diamonds. The band was white gold with a rose profile. I slipped it on my finger and of course it fit perfectly. I gaped at it for a while and then I got out my laptop and pulled up a photo of one that came close. The one I found online was only two carats and it listed at $35,000.00. I pulled it back off quickly and put it back in the box. I was going to be afraid to wear that. It was ridiculous…It was…I opened the box back up and looked at it again. It was gorgeous and I hated that I loved it. I was saved from myself by the buzzer.

  “Yes?” I said, pushing the intercom button on the wall.

  “Miss Blankenship, there’s a Mariela Stromboli here to see you.”

  “Yes, send her up, please.”

  A few minutes later the elevator doors slid open and Mariela Stromboli rushed out with a cloud of Georgia Armani left in her wake. Two young men also stepped off the elevator with their arms laden with boxes and bags. She instructed them in fluent Italian where to sit them down, excused them and then turned to me and in perfect English she said,

  “You must be Alana! I’m honored to meet Sammie’s young fiancé. He was right, you are beautiful.” I felt color rush to my cheeks. For some reason I liked knowing Sammie had told her I was beautiful.

  “Yes, I’m Alana. You must be Mariela? I’m glad to meet you.” Mariela was in her forties. She wore her hair short, but it looked very stylish and her clothes were all designer label. She was no ordinary hair and make-up girl, that’s for sure.

  “Ok, well…Sammie told me you already have a gown, but he didn’t know what color it was so as well as some other gowns for you to look at, I brought a lot of accessories in different colors. When Mari is finished with you, you will look so good that you’ll fall in love with yourself.”

  The next two hours were spent trying on all and picking out one of the dresses she brought. Hers were a lot nicer than mine; I wasn’t even going to pretend that wasn’t true.

  We decided on a floor length salmon colored gown with a conservative neckline but an open back. It was sleeveless and the skirt was draped with a thin lace outer skirt. I loved the dress so much I would have married it.

  She had designer shoes in what seemed to be every color and I easily found a pair that fit me like a glove to match. Then she did my make-up and my hair. She was right; I looked so good that I was in danger of falling in love with myself. When she was ready to go I asked her,

  “I’m sorry, Mari…I’ve never done this before. Should I tip you?”

  Mariela threw her head back and laughed, “No sweetie. Sammie has taken care of everything, trust me. He’s paid me enough to be here today that I could take the rest of the week off and still come out ahead. Congratulations on your engagement, sweetie and have fun tonight.”

  “Thank you,” I told her. As she was leaving, Sammie stepped off the elevator into the sitting room. He and Mariela embraced and I saw him whisper something to her that caused her to smile. They obviously knew each other really well. After she was gone, Sammie turned towards me and said something in Italian that I didn’t understand. It sounded pretty though and his face looked like he really approved of the way I looked.

  “Is this good for an engagement party?” I asked him.

  “It’s good for….everything,” he said with a deep sigh that sent shivers through me. “Did you find the ring?”

  “I did,” I told him. “I’m afraid to put it on. It’s way too extravagant and expensive for a fake engagement. Maybe you could just get me an imitation one and save this one for whatever you intended it for…”

  “I intended it for you,” he said. “It’s your ring, Bella. If anything happens to it, it’s insured, so please don’t worry.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I left it alone. I thanked him and he went to get ready for the evening while I put the giant ring on and off ten times. It made my hand feel heavy. It made me feel like I was wearing a symbol of my selling out….and it made me feel beautiful, all at the same time. It made me imagine what it might be like to really be engaged to him.

  I’d taken it off again with that thought and was
pondering putting it back on for an eleventh time when the elevator doors slid open. Surprised, because the only time they opened when Sammie wasn’t in them was after the doorman had buzzed and let us know someone was coming. Three men in black masks came in and all I got out was a squeak before something was put across my face and my world went black.

  CHAPTER TEN: SAMMIE

  I had just finished toweling off and slipped on my boxers when I heard a strange noise. It was like a muffled scream and my mind instantly went to Alana, alone in the front room. I grabbed my gun and headed out quickly. The end table next to the sofa was turned over and Alana was gone. I don’t ever remember having such a terrible pain in my chest.

  My head was pounding as I grabbed my phone and called downstairs. As I waited for an answer I was pulling on my jeans. Fuck! No one downstairs was picking up. I tried the bell desk, the front lobby and the doorman. I even tried Jon. What the hell was going on? I looked over at the door and realized that it was unlocked. They’d taken her down the back way. Fuck! I called Tony next,

  “Sammie boy, I was just putting on my suit to get ready for your party.”

  “Tony, they’ve taken Alana!”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. I’m headed downstairs to find out what’s going on. I need you to get the crew over here, now!”

  “They’ll be there,” he said. I went out the front door, bypassing the elevator. My penthouse was on the backside of the hotel so that if I chose, I never had to come across a regular guest. That stairwell was the one I used now, taking the stairs three at a time and stopping on each landing to listen. My mind wanted to wander places that I didn’t want it to go. I had to stay focused. If they hurt her…

  When I reached the bottom I hit the exit door. That took me out to a hallway that led to the business side of the hotel. It was late, Friday evening. There was no one in the offices as I made my way through them one by one. The last one I came to was the only one with the door closed. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I didn’t have time to give a shit about Marco’s property. With my silencer on, I shot the handle off the door and kicked it in. Marco and Carla were sitting back to back, each of them tied to their chairs…with their throats slit.

  I didn’t have time to think about that right now. I moved on, making my way into the main lobby. When I eased open the door, I found it completely empty. It was like I was stuck in an alternate fucking universe. I’d only been home for half an hour. When I’d come through here before, everything had been normal. Now, I didn’t see a living soul. I briefly hoped that whoever did this had just herded them all into a room and locked the door, no matter how strongly I doubted that scenario after seeing Marco and Carla’s bodies.

  I moved towards the front doors and in between the exit and the entrance doors where the phone the doorman used was, Frank. Frank was the old doorman, a cousin of Carla’s I think. Now he was dead and his blood had filled the space between the two doors. I felt like I was going to be sick. Not because the blood bothered me, I’d seen plenty of it before, but because the people who had done this had Alana.

  I saw the boys driving up and as I stepped across Frank’s dead body, I realized that the hotel doors were locked. These bastards must have taken Marco’s keys and that was how they were able to access everything. I blew the lock off the front door and then started getting busy. I sent a few guys in to go floor to floor. I told them to send any guests they found in the rooms away…out the back doors and tell them that when this was over, they would be compensated for their time.

  I left two guys at the front entrance and two at the back. Tony must have called Donny because his crew was there as well. I was doing all of this as if it was business as usual, the whole time fighting the swell of panic in my chest. I didn’t know where she was…I didn’t fucking know where to look.

  I found Jon in the limo, in his usual spot. He had a bullet in his temple that had gone through the closed window. It looked like maybe he hadn’t seen it coming, and for that, I was grateful. I got into the car with a guy named Rico who was one of my best soldiers, just as my phone rang.

  “Hello Sammie,” It was a voice from the past and like a ghost it sent a chill surging through my body.

  “Cara? Where is she? What the fuck have you done with her?”

  She laughed, it was a smooth, sensual laugh and I wished that she was standing right in front of me so that I could put a bullet in her head, the way I should have all those years ago…

  “Your little Goomah is fine…for now, Sammie.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want, baby. What I’ve always wanted…I want you. I have the ring on my finger, it’s gorgeous, Sammy. I might even peel this pretty salmon dress off the little bitch and put that on. I think if we were on “who wore it better,” I’d win, hands down.”

  “Cara, listen to me….If you hurt her, even as much as a scratch…”

  “You’ll do what, Sammie? Kill everyone that I love and send me far away to an Island in the Mediterranean to rot? Oh wait! You did that already…five years ago. No Sammie, I’m in charge this time. You want your pretty Goomah alive, you bring me my son. We’ll talk about making a trade.”

  “You’re insane, Cara!”

  She laughed again and said, “Yes, I suppose I am a good lesson for wrapping up your dick before you slip it inside right? I want my son. Today.”

  “Nico is not in the states, Cara. I can’t even get to him today.”

  “You’re a fucking liar. I know that you wouldn’t let that boy be in another country while you’re here. It would be too far out of your control. Get him to me, Sammie. When we hang up, you’ll be text an address. I want to see my son there in two hours or I start relieving this bitch of her fingers one at a time.”

  “Cara!” Fuck!

  “Skipper? I thought she was dead?”

  I laughed; I was losing my mind at last. “I couldn’t kill her. She was a woman, the mother of my child…Her family, her father and brothers and cousins…they’re all dead. I don’t know who’s helping her….” I stopped there as my mind suddenly called something up that I’d almost forgotten. Christopher! Christopher had been in love with Cara since grade school. Cara was the daughter of the Underboss of the Chicago syndicate. She lived with her aunt in the Bronx because her father thought she’d be safer out of the way of the business he conducted. She’d grown up with us all and Carmine had thought that she would eventually marry his son and because of her connections, bring Christopher closer to presiding seat.

  Cara’s father had his sights set differently, however…or so that’s what I was led to believe back then. He and my father had clandestine meetings where a merger of sorts was discussed. That merger involved my father’s favorite son…me, and Alfonso, the head of the Chicago Syndicate’s only daughter, Cara. I agreed to it when my father finally presented it to me for two reasons: It seemed to make my mother happy, and rarely anything I did accomplished that…and although my father offered it to me as if I had a choice, I really didn’t.

  Cara and I married in Chicago and for the first year, things were okay. After she had Nico though, she seemed to become obsessed with the fact that her body had changed and she started becoming crazy jealous. So crazy that she had one of her brothers kidnap and kill a woman that I did a lot of business with. She was a sweet lady who was the daughter of one of my father’s soldiers. She ran the restaurant that we owned…the one named Sal’s. She and I spent a lot of time together, but it was never anything more than friendship and business. Cara refused to believe it and one night when the woman, Bianca was her name, was closing up shop Cara’s brother kidnapped her, held her for three days doing unspeakable things to her and then dumped her body on my doorstep. I probably would have never found out that Cara had anything to do with it if she hadn’t confessed it to me proudly during one of our fights six months later.

  Her brother was “taken care of,” and I did my best to reel Cara in…for a
while. Then she started threatening to take my son away. Things got ugly fast after that. She left with him and I tracked them down in Chicago. Her father and brothers tried to stand in the way, but when it came to Nico, there was no backing down. My father allowed me access to whomever and whatever I needed. The Chicago family was in chaos by the time I finished and Cara…Cara should have been dead. At that point, Cara’s father had come to the realization that his daughter was insane. He was willing to agree with me that she needed to be taken away somewhere and kept “safe.”

  At that point, I still planned on killing her. She was brought to me by some of the men when the war was over and as I held the gun to her temple and looked into her eyes, I saw the eyes of my son. I couldn’t pull the trigger….so I’d sent her far away with people to watch her around the clock. I had no inkling that Carmine, as much as he disliked me, would ever go against the family. Some of his men were allowed to go to Italy to guard her and that had to be how Christopher found out, and who was helping her now.

  Cara text me the address. It was her aunt’s house in the Bronx.

  “Take me to Carmine’s bar,” I told my soldier. On the way, I called Tony. I apologized for the trouble I was about to cause him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: ALANA

  I woke up with the smell of sulfur in my nose. I couldn’t move my arms and legs; they felt like they were tied down. The room was dark and dank and I was freezing. I felt like I was in my underwear, but it was too dark to see anything. I was completely confused. Where was I? How did I get here? I tried to remember, but thinking gave me a pounding headache. I had a vague memory of dressing up…Sammie! Where was he? I started to open my mouth and call out and that was when I realized that my mouth was covered with tape. I felt the warm tears sliding down my cheeks and I wanted to kick my own ass for not listening to Nate. The bastard had been right, no story was worth this.

 

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