Broken Bonds: The London Crime Syndicate - A Dark British Mafia Romance

by Brit Vosper

  Olivia

  I closed the door to my apartment and leant back against it. Relief swept over me as I sighed and shut the world out on the other side. I could pour a glass of wine, put the telly on and pretend that my life was somewhat normal. Do things that other people took for granted when they left work. Like, sit in my pyjamas and get blind drunk while I watched Eastenders. Bliss.

  My keys landed with a clatter as I threw them on the sideboard. I couldn’t take off my jacket and boots quick enough. Every layer I shed took me further towards normality. It turned the urge to shower into a driving force. I didn’t wait to reach the bathroom before I removed my shirt and half-stopped, half-walked out of my jeans, leaving them abandoned in a trail down the hall.

  Alice wasn’t home yet, but I don’t think I would have cared if she was.

  The shower kicked into life as I turned the hot tap then removed what was left of my underwear. My patience frayed with the water as I waited for it to heat. The reflection in the mirror above the sink danced in the corner of my eye. I kept my focus ahead. Not wanting to look at myself in case I broke the illusion I wasn’t a random everyday girl.

  In case I confirmed that I was Olivia, the drug trafficking murderer.

  The water warmed to scalding levels, and I stepped over the side of the bath, relishing the cascade as it stung my skin. It was just hot enough to tolerate. I closed my eyes and soaked every part of my body like I was burning away the memories. My mind cleared and thought of nothing but the heat. I felt human again.

  A calm euphoria coursed through my body when I left the shower. I wrapped in a towel and stepped through the hallway into my bedroom. My movements were fluid and light. I crawled on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, letting my temperature drop as the cool air kissed my wet skin.

  My blood pounded hard through my veins and I focused on the rhythm, keeping thoughts at bay for as long as possible. I connected to my breath and meditated in a rare peaceful moment.

  The door slammed and jolted me awake. It took me a second to catch my bearings and realise what the sound was. Alice was home. I glanced at the clock, 7.45 pm. Good, I hadn’t slept for too long.

  “Olivia! Again! Can’t you undress in your own room?”

  Shit. “Yeah, sorry.”

  She walked through the door with my clothes piled in her arms. “At least pick them up if you can’t wait to get them off.”

  “I’m sorry, I was going to, but I fell asleep.”

  “H’m, yeah. I’ve heard that one before.” She balled them up and placed them at the end of my bed. “How was your day?”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. My sign for I don’t want to talk about it. She was more than familiar with the gesture and knew not to press me.

  I couldn’t tell her anything about my job other than I worked for my family’s logistics business. It didn’t give me much in the way of general chit-chat over office politics and grievances with clients. If she found out what I did—if she knew what I did today—then I’d lose the only real friend I cared for. Alice was too innocent to understand, and that’s what I liked about her. “How was yours?”

  “Great.” A smile beamed across her sweet, heart shaped face. Her strawberry blonde curls framed it perfectly. “You know the radio news segment I did for the World Service? The one with the protests?”

  I nodded.

  She clasped her hands together and held them up to her chin as her blue eyes lit with excitement. “They loved it. It’s running on Friday.”

  I squealed and clapped with her. “That’s great news! Ha, see what I did there?” I pointed and clicked my tongue.

  She laughed and started out the door. “Come on. There’s a celebratory bottle with our names on it.”

  I laughed. “Okay. I’ll be through in a minute.”

  Alice’s enthusiasm was infectious. She had a way of cheering me up; even on my darkest days. I threw off the towel, put on my yoga pants and a black t-shirt then walked through to the living room. Alice was in the kitchenette uncorking a bottle of wine.

  Our apartment was small, but perfect for our needs. The living room had just enough room for the two cream sofas and a small glass coffee table. The kitchenette to the side could only fit one person in it at a time, and the cupboards were hideous, brown units from the seventies, but I loved it here. It was the only place I felt safe.

  I sat on the furthest sofa while I waited for Alice. Soaking in the cosiness of the dated green and white striped wallpaper, and the modern electric fire that sat beneath an old, black Victorian mantle.

  Alice grabbed two wine glasses and the bottle before joining me. “Mark is coming over tonight.” Another smile beamed as she poured the glasses.

  She was smitten with him. That was the case with every new boyfriend until it inevitably went wrong.

  “His shift doesn’t finish till nine though, so we’ve got plenty of time.”

  “How’s it going with him?”

  Her blue eyes twinkled whenever he was mentioned. “Wonderful. We’re planning on taking a trip to Paris in a few weeks. I don’t want to jinx it, but I’ve got a feeling he might ask me a question.” She bit her lip to curb her grin; it didn’t work.

  I sighed and grabbed the glasses from the table, giving one to her. “Really? You’ve been dating how long?”

  “Only six weeks, but it’s been a fairytale. He’s such a romantic, he brought me flowers to work today.” She put her hand to her heart and giggled.

  I didn’t like projecting my negativity on her, but I knew what would happen. It wouldn’t be a proposal. “He’s lovely, but please don’t get your hopes up again. I’d hate to see you hurt.”

  “I’m not. It’s different with him. He’s different.”

  I looked at my glass and took a sip, fighting the urge to tell her what I really thought. He was no different from any other pathetic excuse for a man. “Okay. As long as he keeps you happy.”

  “He does. So much.” She gasped and her whole face lit. “Why don’t you come to dinner with us tomorrow night? You can see how good we are together. You’ve hardly met him.”

  I cleared my throat and tried to think of an excuse. “Sounds nice but… I’ve got work to do.”

  She groaned and rolled her eyes. “All you do is work. I’d love it if you’d join us.”

  “Can’t, sorry.” I couldn’t think of anything worse than having to play gooseberry.

  Her eyes narrowed with a mischievous glint. “He’s bringing a friend.”

  That qualified as worse. “Definitely not.” I got the distinct feeling she had planned a set up.

  “Come on, Olivia. You never go out.”

  “I’m not interested in meeting any of his friends, ever.”

  “You might have fun.”

  “I might not.”

  “How will you know if you don’t go?”

  “I’ll take my chances at home.”

  “Come on. You’ve not dated anyone since Jack.”

  When I heard his name my heart flipped in my chest and a flood of guilt came streaming back. I didn’t need that, today of all days.

  “That was five years ago. You’ve got to date sometime.”

  “I don’t have to do anything, Alice. Drop it.” My tone was sharper than I intended.

  She pouted. “I want to see you happy, too.”

  “You think a guy would do that?”

  “Jesus, Olivia. It was only a suggestion. No need to bite.”

  I bowed my head and sighed. Now guilty for taking it out on her. She knew no better. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s a sore subject.”

  “Even after all this time?” She softened her voice, wary of setting me off again while she tried to press further.

  I never opened up to her about anything anymore, and her curious nature didn’t sit well with that. “Time is irrelevant. Nothing changes the past.”

  “Dwelling on it doesn’t either. Don’t you think it’s time you moved on?”

&
nbsp; “No. I’m content being single. Relationships are complicated and difficult, that’s the last thing I need in my life.”

  “They don’t have to be.”

  I envied her innocence. It must be nice to live in a world where your biggest relationship worry was picking the right restaurant for a date. Alice didn’t have to watch her back from fear that Mark was out to kill her. Must be nice. “Maybe, but I’m just not interested right now, okay?”

  “Okay, fine.” She raised her hand in defeat and took a sip from her glass, frustrated that I’d closed the topic.

  I took a sip of my own, uneasy with the change in atmosphere.

  “So will you come to dinner if I promise not to bring his friend?”

  “Alice!”

  “What?” She grinned.

  I had to smile. She’d played me into choosing the lesser of two evils. I groaned. “Alright, alright. I’ll come out for an hour, but no set-ups.”

  She squealed and hugged my neck. “You won’t regret it.”

  I had the feeling I might, but I’d suck it up for an hour or two if it made her happy. She was the best thing in my life, and I needed to show her that.

  She sat back and licked the spill of wine from her hand. “So, where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t mind. Just make sure it’s a later reservation. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow, and I don’t know how long it will take.”

  Nerves prickled through my muscles as I thought about meeting with Marcus. There was no dissuading my sister from arranging it. I’d tried to convince her it was a bad idea, but I couldn’t say why beyond the fact our father would kill us both. She insisted covering the shipment would incur less of our father’s wrath.

  She’d become bold all of a sudden.

  The hijacked shipment got us in this position, but to what end? How could a meeting with us help bring down the Syndicate? I was curious to find out. But could I figure out his game by playing it right into his hands? I only had one thing in my favour. He didn’t know I knew.

  “Upscale, or dirty and guilty?”

  I realised Alice had been talking. “Sorry, what?”

  “The food? Do you want to try somewhere fancy or somewhere cheap and naughty?” She was on her phone scrolling through reviews.

  “Nothing pretentious.”

  She looked up and smirked. “Okay, dirty and guilty it is.”

  Five

  Olivia

  The driver stopped outside the private members club in Soho. A tall, red stone building which stood proud but discreet amongst the shops and pubs. Tourists meandered past unaware of its presence. Milena told the driver to park close and wait for our call. This was the part she was born to play; dressing in a tailored suit to conduct her criminal business over cocktails, surrounded by London’s oblivious elite.

  She loved every minute of it. I on the other hand, wasn’t so keen. I’d made a little effort matching court heels to my skinny jeans and shirt, but I didn’t buy into the glamour like she did. It all seemed so false.

  We climbed out of the car and headed to the imposing black doors of the club. One of our thugs got out of the passenger seat and towed along. Andy was more like Milena’s personal bodyguard. The only one who was presentable enough to follow her to these places. The doorman greeted us as he pulled the towering doors open, and the lady at the front desk gave us her best paid smile as we scanned our cards and Andy signed in.

  Milena addressed the woman at the counter. “We’re expecting another guest. Will you tell him we’re in the main bar on the fifth floor?”

  “Of course, Ms Romano.” The lady smiled again and made a note on the computer.

  We stepped into the lift and I waited for the doors to close before questioning my sister. “The main bar? Don’t you think it would be more appropriate to be in a side room?”

  She shrugged off my concern. “Relax. It’s quiet at this time of day.”

  “Quiet doesn’t equal private.”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter. No one’s interested in what we’re up to.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  She glared at me like I was an ignorant child. “Hide in plain sight, Olivia. Did our father not teach you anything?”

  I dropped it. She wouldn’t argue over this. My doubts about this meeting, however, went far beyond an overheard whisper.

  The doors opened, and I followed Milena to the main bar. The club was luxurious but not too overt; it was classy. Natural dark wood floorboards were polished to a manicured shine. High backed, leather armchairs surrounded heavy wooden tables, and thick, velvet curtains segmented the wall of glass that revealed views over the city skyline.

  I could see why Milena liked it here so much.

  In the centre of the room, a crescent cocktail bar projected from the back wall and dominated the space. Stocked with every possible brand of spirt you could and couldn’t name. The barman stopped to greet us as we walked past before busying himself again with the cleaning.

  We took a table in the far corner and sat facing out into the bar. Andy nodded to Milena and headed in to the pool room next door. Under strict orders to stay there until called. I checked my phone, 3.45 pm. Another fifteen minutes before he was due to arrive.

  I shuffled in the high-backed chair and turned towards my sister. “Still don’t see why you need me to be here.” I wanted to be here to figure out what Marcus was playing at, but she didn’t know that.

  She gave me the fake smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “In case I need your help to present a case to our father.”

  “But I don’t think we should work with Marcus. Why would I help you convince him otherwise?”

  She hushed her voice and leant over. “Because the cartel that took out our supplier is working with Marcus. We need him to give us the contact.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you need me here, now. Purchasing is your domain, not mine. I handle distribution.”

  My leg tapped. I placed my hand on my knee and made a conscious effort to stop it.

  Milena studied me with interest. “If we don’t have a supplier, there won’t be any distribution. Besides, we should keep a united front for the sake of the business.”

  I clicked. “You mean you need me to help take the fallout, and most of the blame.”

  Her smile widened. “Exactly.”

  “You’re a vicious fucking piece of work, Milena,” I spat under my breath. Why didn’t I see it before? She always had an ulterior motive.

  The waiter approached the table. “Good afternoon, Ms Romano. What can I get for you?”

  Milena ordered before I had the chance. “Two Earl Grey Martinis…”

  “Make one an Espresso Martini.”

  She screwed her eyes. “You always have Earl Grey.”

  “Only when I have the choice.”

  Milena chuckled under her breath, and the waiter backed off. I folded my arms and crossed my legs away from her. Not that I was annoyed with my sister—I expected that behaviour from her—but I didn’t like the fact I hadn’t figured it out sooner.

  I checked my phone, 3.47 pm. My leg shook with nerves. I uncrossed them, sat up straight and placed my phone on the table, determined not to check it again.

  “Why are you so nervous? You’ve been to these meetings before.”

  “Not with this guy I haven’t.”

  She raised a sculpted eyebrow at me. “You really don’t want to work with him, do you? Why?”

  “There’s a reason our father doesn’t like him. That should be enough not to trust him.”

  She huffed. “Please, our father can hold grudges for drinking a beer the wrong way. It’s probably nothing we need to worry about. It’s not as if we can trust anyone in this business, anyway.”

  “I’ve just got a bad feeling about him.”

  “You’ve never met him.”

  “Couldn’t you have gotten the supplier somewhere else?”

  “I don’t know, do you think the cartels advertise
in the Yellow Pages?” She gave me a sly grin that didn’t sit right on her severe face. “Marcus is the only big player not in the Syndicate, and I’ve exhausted all other avenues.”

  I sighed. “It’s a terrible idea.”

  “Maybe if you’d have found the shipment before you disposed of the guy…”

  I glared at her. “You’re blaming me?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Blame is a strong word.”

  The door to the pool room opened, and I jumped in my seat. Two women in suits—ladened with the obligatory laptops—walked in and headed to the bar. I had to take a deep breath to steady myself.

  “Chill out, Olivia. He’s not going to walk in and shoot us.”

  She was right. He wouldn’t try anything in the club. This anxiety wasn’t doing me any favours. I needed to play my part and figure out his end game. I closed my eyes and attempted to ease the nerves rattling around my body.

  The waiter came over and placed our drinks on the table. Milena picked up both glasses, handed one to me and proposed a toast. “Here’s to dealing with the enemy.”

  I clinked my glass with hers and took a sip. Over the rim, I caught sight of the far door opening.

  My gaze met with an intense stare. Two mesmerising eyes smouldered from the shadows of a low masculine brow. They bored a hole right through to the deepest secrets hidden inside of me. Even as I coughed and cleared the drink that stuck in my throat, I couldn’t look away.

  To say he wasn’t the old thug I expected was an understatement, breathtaking would be far more appropriate.

  His handsome face lit with a mischievous glint as his full, sinful lips rose into a sinister smile. It darkened his eyes, but highlighted the height of his chiselled cheekbones, and widened the cut of his angular jaw. His trimmed stubble added to his rugged appearance. As he set off towards us, the light from the windows revealed the soft waves in his dark brown, almost black, tousled hair. He was stunning, but a man’s man if ever I saw one.

  A vicious crime lord though, I couldn’t see it. As dark and enchanting as his fierce stare was, it didn’t have the harsh edge of pure evil to which I was accustomed.