Bruno: Heartless Mafia Boss

by Addy Archer

  A contract. Would it even hold up in court? He mentioned something about putting me in his will and that’s why this contract is linked. Purely for our sake; for me to hold him to my part of the deal and vice versa.

  I grab the pen and sign. A weight falls off my shoulders. No more worries where to spend the night, sleeping with one eye open, or if I will be able to eat something tomorrow. A future, I now have one. Not to mention, I will have art supplies and am able to fully focus on painting. I can even try something I once saw online and always intrigued me.

  “Here,” Bruno snaps and holds out his phone.

  I take it and hold it to my ear, thankful to hear Coral’s voice.

  “Hey,” I croak.

  I grab the contract and hand it to Bruno who glances at the signature at the bottom, his eyes flare hot. I stroll over to the couch where I curl my legs underneath my butt and close my eyes to lean back on the couch.

  “Are you okay?” Coral questions.

  “I’m fine, you?”

  “I have a major crush on the one who saved me. He’s so fierce, sweet, caring, protective. How can I go from total havoc into warm and comforting arms who want to protect me from any harm coming my way? It’s so confusing. I have no clue what to do.” Sobs follow her ramblings and it makes me flash up.

  “Calm down, Coral. Breathe. And listen to you ramble, a few days ago we wouldn’t have believed we would be talking on the phone like this.”

  Another sob and a few mumbled words flow through the phone and I know she’s getting all choked up. Hell, I’m choked up too.

  “I owe you so much,” I whisper and swallow hard. “I can’t believe you thought of me. Except for my aunt, no one ever–” Hard breaths and a few sobs take over and I have to smile through them. “Dammit, Coral. We could use this time to discuss so many other things instead of listening to each other’s sobs.”

  I glance back where Bruno was standing but he’s nowhere to be seen.

  Whispering the words in a rush, I tell Coral, “Bruno is insane. Frustrating. A complete and utter . . . he kissed me like I am the last woman on this freaking planet. A toe curling–set your body on fire–supernova bliss kiss of all kisses. And the next second I’d like to rip out his tongue for being rude. And I’ve only known him for a blink of a moment. Oh, and it doesn’t help one bit that his body is all bulky muscle wrapped in a classy suit. And then his thick hair I like to dig my fingers into and . . . he’s just so freaking frustrating.”

  Coral laughs and that’s actually what I was going for since she makes me sigh in relief with a big smile on my face.

  “You need to relish in those warm and comforting arms of your man, Coral. Bruno mentioned he’s the enforcer of the MC he’s a part of? You do know how to pick them. So, please . . . seize the day, relish in your newfound pleasure. Remember what we promised one another–” I catch movement from the corner of my eye and see Bruno strolling back into the room. “Survive. Live. No regrets. We did the first one, still doing the second one while we focus on the last part. Do you hear me?”

  I hold Bruno’s stare and his eyes gleam with something I can only describe as pride.

  “I hear you, but that’s right back at ya, Winter. And do you remember what you said to me? The pain in the ass part? From what I heard about Bruno, you need to stick to your promise.” Her words make a smile spread my face.

  “Oh, I can guarantee I’ll be sticking to my promise,” I vow fiercely.

  Bruno stalks up and holds out his hand. “That’s enough. I need to speak to Jace.”

  “Gotta go, Coral. Bruno needs to have a word with Jace,” I tell her with regret. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “We’ll chat again soon,” Coral says.

  Leaving me to reply with, “I’d love that,” before Bruno takes the phone and stalks out of the room again.

  The man who was driving the limousine last night strolls into the room. He gives me a smile and asks, “Bruno?”

  I point in the direction of the bedrooms. “He had to speak with Jace, whomever that might be, and walked in that direction.”

  Emmet nods and heads for the open kitchen. I follow him as he starts to make coffee.

  “Can you make me another one too?” I question.

  Emmet lifts his chin and makes the both of us a mug filled with steaming black goodness.

  He places the mug in front of me and surprises me when he says, “Jace is the vice president of Trigger Pull MC.”

  “Oh.” I take a tiny sip and wonder out loud, “Why is he talking to Jace when he was speaking with Stone? Stone is the president, right? I think I heard Bruno mention it to me.”

  “Their clubhouse was attacked by Nario and his men. Stone is in the hospital. Part of the building collapsed and he was under it.”

  “What?” I gasp, my mug hitting the counter a little too hard, making the coffee slosh over the rim.

  I wince and jump up to clean it when Bruno strolls inside, his gaze going from Emmet to me and what I’m doing.

  “Sorry,” I blurt. “I underestimated my own strength and made the mug collide with the counter a little too hard.”

  Emmet’s head falls back and he laughs, letting Bruno know right after, “She’s fun. You need to keep this one alive.”

  “Oh, yes, let’s keep me alive,” I dryly agree.

  Bruno is glaring at Emmet while he continues to chuckle.

  “Nario is using excessive violence with his attempts to lash out at Trigger Pull MC. From what I’ve heard Nario doesn’t have much manpower left with the hits he took.” He takes a seat at the kitchen table and rubs a hand over his face. “This shit with Nario needs to end. And the issue with Caleb is turning out to be bigger than we suspected.”

  “Who is Caleb?” I question.

  “A capo,” Emmet supplies while he receives a death glare from Bruno.

  Emmet slowly shakes his head. “You kept all the others in the dark, Boss. Change it up, let her in on things so she knows what’s going on. If anything happens when she’s around, she will react differently than going in blind, I’m sure.”

  Bruno’s jaw ticks and when I think he’s about to dismiss me, he surprises me by spilling details. “To make it simple for you, Caleb is a capo who handles his own business but works for me and gives me what he owes. Let’s just say he’s been doing business without reporting and is changing things up to fill his own pockets. Extorting people who pay us for protection and are now basically being harassed by those who should fucking protect them.”

  Okay. This is a Zen moment for sure. Deep breath in, deep breath out. I’ve watched countless classic movies my aunt had and read a lot of mafia books I borrow from the library. Not that it has any truth to it or rules to live by, but there are many scenarios written on hints of truths.

  Bruno’s words and dilemma with Ridge comes to mind and it makes me wonder. “So, why not bring Caleb in and break a few fingers? I suspect with what you just mentioned you have all the proof you need and for sure won’t give him another chance because this sounds like it’s been going on for months. Oh. That means you’d better kill him, right? Is he doing it on his own? A capo has soldiers, right? Are they loyal to you or him? More coffee anyone?”

  “I repeat, she’s fun,” Emmet snickers and holds out his cup. “Yes, please.”

  I grab the two mugs and get busy with making coffee. Bruno steps closer and murmurs, “Yes to your ramblings. It’s why I need to get back as soon as possible.”

  “We,” I correct him. “We need to get back because you promised me supplies. Shall I make a list?”

  “You do that,” Bruno murmurs and takes the mug from my hand. “I have to take care of some business. When I get back later today, I expect you to have a list ready for me to order.”

  He takes a few sips, places the mug on the counter, and walks out the door.

  My eyes slide to Emmet. “Aren’t you supposed to go with him?”

  “He wants me here with you.”

 
; “Ah, it’s the ‘need to keep this one alive’ job. Thank you, I appreciate that.” I shoot him a grin and glance around the room. “Do you have a pen and paper? I want to make a list.”

  “A list?” Emmet questions as he stalks to a desk and pulls out paper and a pen.

  “Yes. Art supplies I’ll be needing and Bruno will be buying those for me.”

  Emmet pulls out his phone. “Show me and I’ll help writing shit down. I’ll be the one who will order and get everything anyway. Doing this together will help me understand everything.”

  The words I mentioned to Coral apply to me too; seize the day. I have to if my life took a turn down crazy lane and landed my ass into a mafia world where torture and killing is a side dish to morning coffee.

  So, I am clearing my head and focusing on making a list. No regrets means I have to follow my dream. A dream I’ve had ever since I was a little girl; to become a painter and sell my paintings. And to do that, I would need supplies. I take Emmet’s phone and start to search the items I need.

  Hours pass before Bruno returns to the hotel room. And when he does, his whole mood and demeanor has shifted. There are only grunted words thrown in Emmet’s direction who in return tells me to get ready since we’re leaving. Within the hour we are in a private jet and in the air, heading to Bruno’s mansion.

  I’m frozen in my seat, nails digging into my palms and my heart is beating in my throat. It’s a hard reality yet again how alone I am in this world. I’ve never so much as stepped foot in an airplane.

  I didn’t have the nerve to say anything, if I did I would sound weak. Not to mention, Bruno is looking like he’s ready to spit bullets. I have no clue who pissed in his Cheerios but by the look on his face, they probably took a dump in it too.

  Oh. Gosh. I close my eyes and hope the plane stays in the air. Turbulence. That’s what they call it, but they should call it a “hold your heart and piss your panties moment.” The plane rocks again and I can’t help the tiny gasp that slips out. I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes.

  “Relax. It’s only some turbulence,” Bruno says, annoyance evident in his words.

  I swing my head his way and shoot him a glare but the plane tilts slightly again, making me brace and close my eyes for a moment to push my fear back. I hear some muttered curses and feel a shift beside me. When I open my eyes I notice Bruno changed seats. Instead of sitting across from me, he’s now in the chair beside me.

  “First time flying?” Bruno says as he takes one of my hands in his and peels the nails from my palm to lace my fingers with his.

  I’m guessing it’s my shocked look that makes the corners of his mouth twitch.

  “I can be nice, Winter,” the man says and places a kiss on my knuckles.

  Now my heart is skipping a beat while my mind offers, yeah, right, for a tiny moment after you’ve loaded up to become the grumpy asshole again.

  “Better get used to it.” Bruno gives me a smirk.

  I roll my eyes. “Or you can hurry with my art studio so I can avoid you.”

  He brings our joined hands to his mouth again. “Emmet made arrangements, they are working on it as we speak, to get everything ready for when we arrive.”

  My eyes widen and utter joy washes over me. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” he murmurs against my knuckles and brushes his lips against my skin.

  His gaze holds mine and he reaches out to cup the back of my neck, pulling me over to him while he closes the distance until our lips merge. This kiss isn’t rough and demanding, it’s sensual and lingering. This also proves there’s so much more to this man than just the surface I’ve seen in these barely two days since I met him. I let my body sag in contentment.

  Bruno chuckles and ends the kiss. “It doesn’t take much to distract you.”

  The asshole is back in full force.

  “I know, it’s what got me kidnapped and landed my ass here, tied to you.” I take my hand from his and shift my body away from him.

  I expect him to change seats but the hardheaded man stays right next to me. The rest of the flight I try to ignore him and pass on the food and drinks. I’m not used to eating and drinking much since I hardly ever got anything the time I was held hostage. And I know I’m withholding myself but the shaking of the plane isn’t giving me much of an appetite either.

  Once we land it’s a short drive to a huge mansion, complete with a fountain, and a fancy garage where I get a glimpse of a row of different, classy cars. Bruno has his hand on my lower back and guides me inside.

  He surprises me when he asks, “Would you like to see your bedroom or the art studio first?”

  “Art studio, please,” I tell him without thinking twice.

  Excitement fills me when he guides me through the hall and at the end there’s a door on the right leading to a large room with on one side floor to ceiling windows, perfect for letting the evening sun shine inside. The wide open space is fully stocked with everything I desired and more. All I can do is stare and take in the things I’ve only dreamed about.

  A drawing table is in one corner, on the other side is an easel, palettes, paint . . . uncountable bottles and tubes, pencils, brushes, clay, crayons. So many options, I’ve never had or even seen so many art supplies in one room. I’ve only stared at some of it in shops, and now it’s all mine.

  I turn to Bruno and my first instinct is to throw myself at him to hug him tight, thankful for what he’s done for me. But at the last second I realize I don’t have to be thankful; this is his part of the deal we made. I quickly spin on my heels–refusing to let the rush of joy fade–and head for the drawing table.

  My fingertips slide over the thick paper and I reach for a pencil, placing my ass on the chair and relish how it feels to be sitting at my own desk. An image appears in my head and I start to sketch. Time slips away from me and when I’m finally done, I’m staring at a seagull mid-flight with its wings curled forward, feathers on show which I’ve put a lot of detail in.

  I stretch my arms out over my head and yawn. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and my hands are sore from the quick turnaround of not using them to overusing them. I’m also in need of a long hot shower. But the hunger eventually wins.

  Stalking into the hall I go in search of the kitchen. The house is silent and empty, but there’s some light coming from underneath a door. There’s no sound coming from the room, and when I turn the doorknob, the door opens and I see Bruno leaning over his desk with his back to me.

  “I said that’s it for the night, Emmet,” he snarls in an impatient tone.

  “Good thing he already left for the night then,” I dryly reply and turn to leave him to it.

  “Wait,” he grunts and before I can make a speedy exit, he’s standing in front of me. “Come on, we need to talk.” This time his voice isn’t lace with anger.

  “Can we multitask?” I wince and know he’s not the type of man to steer another way from what he has in mind. But I can’t help it. “Sorry, I’m hungry.”

  “You didn’t eat on the plane,” he muses and wraps his fingers around my upper arm and steers me through the hall and into another room.

  Not a room. When the lights go on I’m suddenly standing in a massive kitchen with loads of appliances.

  “Oh, wow,” I gasp and let my fingers trail over the marble countertop. “Gorgeous.”

  “Will a sandwich do?” Bruno questions and my head whips his way.

  I’m stunned when I see him place things on the counter. “Are you going to make me one if I say yes?”

  He doesn’t stop getting things ready when he dryly replies, “Do you see anyone else, Winter?”

  I refrain from making a snarky remark because, after all, the man is making me a sandwich. Slicing bread, tomatoes, pickles, lettuce, pastrami, delicious cheese, peppers, olive oil, and some more cheese.

  My mouth is watering when he slides the food in front of me. Rudely, I don’t even thank the man but snatch up the sandwich and sink my teeth in. The mixed
flavors hitting my tongue are making me groan as I close my eyes. Fan-freaking-tastic.

  I take a few more bites and in the blink of an eye I’ve polished off the delicious sandwich. Bruno is halfway done with his and my fingers are itching to rip it out of his hands. He breaks off a piece and holds it out for me to take.

  “Thank you,” I murmur and quickly devour it.

  Bruno stalks to the fridge and grabs two bottles of water, placing one in front of me.

  Taking a seat across from me again, he suddenly says, “I have the proof I need to kill Ridge.”

  My eyes widen. “How is that possible? You’ve been trying to get this for a long time and all of a sudden you have proof?”

  “Nario is dead.”

  Wait. What? “Dead?”

  “Coral is in the hospital.”

  “Oh. My. God. Can you stop spitting out details without explanations? Why is Coral in the hospital? What happened?”

  “Nario called me. He had a request and in return he would give me something I’ve been wanting to obtain for a long damn time. Ridge and I going head to head is common knowledge in the underworld. I called in a favor. US marshals came to help us out since we also had two MCs on board. But Nario demanded for Coral to be present at the meeting. An exchange, so to say. Long story short, the fucker was wearing a bomb vest. I already left the scene once Nario handed me what I needed. I heard afterwards Coral was hurt when the bomb vest went off. She’s okay, a concussion. Her old man, Dreamer, he had shards in his back but he's also still breathing and staying with her. It’s all over. I’m sure you can call her in the morning.”

  I reach for the pickles and grab one to slowly chew while I think over the stuff Bruno just threw at me. I can’t believe Nario is dead. I don’t like to be far away from Coral and would have liked to visit her regularly, but I guess we have to settle for other ways to stay in contact. And like Bruno said, I will call her in the morning.

  Which brings me back to the question swirling in my head. “If you have the evidence to kill Ridge . . . why are you here feeding me while you can be torturing him? And why are you acting like your balls are in a twist while you should be happy or at least a little satisfied you finally have what you need.”