BOW DOWN: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Barone Crime Family)

by B. B. Hamel

  “Talk, fuck, who cares what you do.” Ethan grabbed his laptops in a stack and quickly left.

  I shook my head. “Does your assistant always talk that way to you?”

  “Yes,” he said, sighing. “Good help is hard to find.”

  I laughed. He led me into the room. I sat on a chair as he poured us each a glass of whisky. He handed me the drink then sat down in the chair across from me.

  “Let’s talk business,” he said. “What exactly do you want?”

  “You have connections and influence. I have strength and money. I propose we combine our forces.”

  “How?”

  “I want to go legitimate. Maybe not right away, but slowly I want to convert my sizable force into a real working outfit.”

  “Doing what?” he asked, laughing. “You’re mafia.”

  “Betting,” she said. “We’d run a casino,”

  He shook his head. “That’s not easy.”

  “Not yet, it isn’t. But with your connections, you can change legislation. You can get permits.”

  “And you can get money.”

  “That’s right.”

  He nodded. “I can see how this benefits you. But how does it benefit me?”

  “You need muscle. You need money. I can provide those things.”

  He nodded slowly, sipping his drink and watching me. He didn’t say anything for a long time and I simply sat there, enjoying my drink and letting my idea sink in.

  I could tell he was interested, though if he was interested in the business or just in me, I couldn’t tell. He was watching me like a hawk, his eyes digging into my body, scrutinizing my every inch. I felt like he could almost see past my mask, past the years and layers of defenses to the real person buried deep inside of me.

  “I’m interested,” he said finally. “I really am. But right now, I don’t trust you.”

  “Understandable.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “No. I only told you my first name.”

  He nodded slowly. “That’s true. Maybe we made assumptions.”

  “I can’t be held responsible for that.”

  “Still. You know who your father is and what that means. You should have told me up front.”

  “And get denied, again, just because my father is Arturo Barone? I’m done with that.”

  He nodded once and finished his drink. “Come here,” he said.

  I raised an eyebrow. His expression was intense and commanding. I finished my own drink, set it down, and then stood. I walked slowly toward him.

  He took my hand and pulled me into his lap. He grabbed my hair close to my skull and held me firm.

  “Is this how you end all of your business meetings?” I asked him, smiling.

  “No. This is just for you.”

  He kissed me hard then, that same passionate kiss as the night before. I melted into it, letting him take me. I kissed him back, tongue moving along his, our lips moving in sync with each other. I let his taste slide into my mouth and I could feel how soaking wet I was, how badly I needed him. That thrill was back, running down my spine, glowing in my core.

  He tipped my head back and kissed my neck.

  “You want power,” he said softly.

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  “I want your body. I want you to give it to me willingly.”

  “You have me.”

  “Not yet, I don’t.” He kissed my neck then gently bit my lower lip. “But I will.”

  His phone began to ring. We stared at each other for a moment. Then he released me. I stood up as he stood and pulled his phone from his pocket.

  “Excuse me,” he said, stepping into the other room and answering.

  I was so frustrated. I couldn’t believe he walked away from me just to take call, but that frustration only heightened my desire and anticipation. I’d never wanted to be taken so badly before, and yet this was the most important business deal of my life so far. I couldn’t decide if giving myself to him was going to ruin what could be an incredible partnership, or if it could only make it stronger.

  He returned a minute later. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was Ethan. There’s an important case that needs my attention.”

  “I understand.”

  He quickly walked to me, took my hips, and pulled me against him. He kissed me long and slow before looking me in the eyes.

  “We’ll do this again.”

  “We will.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  We went to the door together. He opened it and I stepped out.

  “Think about what I offered,” I said to him.

  “I’ll be thinking about how fucking hard I am right now, and how badly I wanted to slide my cock between your perfect legs.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Think about that, too.” I turned and left.

  I wanted him to watch me as I walked away. I didn’t look back as I got onto the elevator and headed downstairs.

  Wyatt Carter was an interesting man. He didn’t trust me, that was obvious, but he wanted me anyway.

  And I felt the same way. I couldn’t trust him, not entirely, but I needed him. I believed working with him could make my organization the strongest in the city, and finally end this absurd war.

  The problem was, I couldn’t decide the cost of doing business with Wyatt. Maybe it was as simple as sex, one passionate night and that was it.

  Or maybe I’d be giving him something much, much more important.

  7

  Wyatt

  I got downstairs and Ethan stepped out of an alcove. I nearly had a fucking heart attack.

  “How’d you beat me down here?” I asked him.

  “I have my ways.” He grinned at me.

  “Fucking shit, Ethan. You’re a creepy guy sometimes, you know that?”

  “Thanks, Wyatt.”

  I sighed. “What’s the emergency?”

  “We have Myers.”

  I paused, surprised. “Where?”

  “Warehouse downtown.”

  “Since when?”

  “Twenty minutes ago he got picked up.”

  “Well, okay then,” I said, smiling. “Let’s go.”

  He nodded and we headed outside. The driver was there waiting for us already. We got into the car and he pulled out without needing directions, probably already briefed by Ethan.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Louisa, though I needed to concentrate. She was intense and attractive, the sort of woman I never thought I’d actually meet let alone actively want and court.

  But more than that, her little business proposition was so tempting.

  I believed her when she said that she wanted more power and wanted to control the city. I understood where she was coming from, though it was from the opposite end of the world than me. Still, regardless of original motivations, we both wanted the same thing, and we were both in a position to help the other.

  There was a trust issue between us, though she did have a point. She never actually lied to me about her name, we just assumed that she was the person on her driver’s license. And to be fair, that façade crumbled pretty quickly once Ethan got started digging into it.

  I was annoyed as we sped downtown toward that warehouse. It was just my luck to get interrupted twice now by Ethan before I could get what I really wanted from Louisa, but maybe the anticipation made it better. Maybe waiting would only make it sweeter in the end.

  That was bullshit, though. I wanted what I wanted, and I took what I wanted. I wasn’t the waiting type.

  This wasn’t the sort of thing that could wait, unfortunately. Ten minutes later, we pulled up outside of the place, a big and dark structure surrounded by a chain-link fence with barbed wire at the top. Signs were posted all over warning people about some nonexistent dog and threatening to shoot trespassers.

  We climbed out and walked along the fence until Ethan stopped. He pulled the fence and curled the chain back toward us, making a gap. I stepped through and he followed.
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  I gave him a look as he continued on, but he just gave me an apologetic smile.

  “Best I could do on short notice,” he said.

  “I’m sure.”

  “He’s just in here.”

  I followed Ethan along the rundown building until we got to a side door. He pushed it open and we stepped inside. The place used to be some kind of office, probably where the administrators worked alongside the factory guys. My father never stepped foot in this part of the factory back when he was alive and working.

  We moved down the halls and finally stepped into a side room. It was probably once an office of one of the more important people, since it was pretty big and the window overlooked the factory floor.

  Tonight, though, it wasn’t an office. In the middle of the room, tied to a chair, was a middle-aged guy, pale skin and balding along the top. He was sweating and clearly terrified. His cheap suit was plastered to his body and his eyes went wide when I stepped into the room.

  “Wyatt,” he said.

  “Don’t talk,” I warned him. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  Myers was a small time lawyer, but he represented a bunch of piece of shit thugs that pushed heroin on the south side of Chicago. I was sick of Myers letting these fucking scumbags get away with their shit. Despite being a total cocksucker, Myers was good at what he did, and he was constantly getting these guys off on technicalities.

  No more of that.

  “Listen to me,” I said to him. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “No. This is crazy.”

  “You’re here because you’ve been helping a bunch of drug dealers escape justice.”

  “Wyatt—“

  My right hook caught him in the chin, nearly knocking him over. He grunted and cried out in pain. Ethan smiled at me.

  “Good punch, Wyatt,” he said.

  “Thanks. Hey, I stopped a mugger earlier.”

  “Really?”

  “Seriously. Guy had a knife. Felt good to get into a fight like that again, you know?”

  “I’m jealous. I’ve been schlepping my ass all over town.”

  “You were on your computer when we got back.”

  “I was working.”

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  “Wyatt,” Myers said.

  I looked at him. “Interrupt me again, and I’ll beat you to death.”

  He stared at me, and I think he understood that I was serious.

  I looked back at Ethan. “Did you rough this shithead up before I arrived?”

  “Didn’t have time.”

  “Good.” I turned back to Myers. “Now, you may speak.”

  “This is insane. You can’t get away with this. I’m going to destroy you, you insane piece of shit, I’m going to—“

  Another right hook shut him up. His head snapped back and blood splattered from his mouth.

  “No,” I said. “That’s incorrect. What you’re going to do is follow my instructions. Say you understand.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Another right hook. A left jab. Another right hook. Blood flowed freely down his face and he was groaning and sobbing.

  “Do you understand now?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he moaned.

  “When those south side gangsters need representation, you’re going to fuck up. I don’t care how but you’ll make it look real. And I’ll bring their asses to justice.”

  “They’ll kill me.”

  “You’ll run. I’ll protect you.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Myers, do I have to beat you more?”

  “No, no, please don’t hurt me.”

  “Do as I asked.”

  “Okay,” he sobbed. “Okay.”

  “Good. Ethan here will continue our discussion, and then he’ll release you. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, not only will they call you a liar, but I’ll make sure you end up dead. Understand?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Good.” I turned and left the room. Ethan followed.

  “What should I do?” he asked.

  “Make sure he’s going to follow orders. Then let him go.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure. He’s not a threat.”

  “You’re the boss.” He turned and headed back into the room. I heard Myers say something muffled, and then scream.

  Poor guy didn’t know what he was getting into with Ethan. I was a brute in comparison. Ethan was an artist with a knife.

  I headed back through the factory, taking my time. Thousands of men just like my father moved through this place at one time, men that just wanted to make a living, men that had no ambition outside of their continued survival.

  I hated those men. I loved them. They were a part of me in ways I’d never understand.

  But I was going to be more than that. I couldn’t stop, I had to continue to press onward and upward. I had no other options, and I couldn’t live with myself if I settled.

  Louisa Barone could be my ticket to the next level. I could continue to scrape together my empire, maybe move up in the world in another ten years, or I could skip the fucking climb completely and ascend to the summit in one fell swoop.

  I got out my phone and sent Ethan a text as I left the warehouse grounds. “Investigate Louisa Barone further.”

  I wasn’t the kind of man to wait around.

  8

  Louisa

  I felt like I was most at my element in front of a whole array of computer screens. The entire internet was at my fingertips, and nothing could be kept from me.

  I got into a flow, working and typing, moving through my usual spots. I broke into my father’s network and checked on his plans, but there was nothing new there. I figured they realized that I was easily coming and going, and probably were keeping their important plans off their network. Next, I checked out the Russians, but they typically never updated their stuff, and besides, my Russian was a little rusty.

  Which brought me to the reason for this whole thing. I began with the easy stuff, a simple Google search for Wyatt Carter, and skimmed the articles I found. I read the same story over and over: a working class boy with a down-home attitude becomes a bigwig lawyer. He wanted to save the world and all the working class people of Illinois. He was a golden boy, a prodigy, the state’s native son come back to save everyone.

  It was all crap. I knew the real Wyatt. He didn’t care about saving the state, or at least not in the way that they thought. He wanted to control the state in order to bring about his will.

  What I couldn’t figure was what that will was. I didn’t know what he wanted to do with all that power. He said he cared about people and the poor, but I couldn’t tell if that was because he genuinely believed it or if it sounded good in an interview.

  I began to dig deeper. I broke into his email account, his social media accounts, and anything else remotely related to him, but there was nothing. Sure, there was some chatter about some potentially shady stuff, but nothing out of the ordinary for an attorney general.

  By the third hour, I was getting frustrated. There was nothing on him. It was almost as if this image he created for himself as a good old boy was real, and he genuinely was the nice guy next door.

  There were some rumors, but they were all unsubstantiated. He was known to be very ruthless in the courtroom, and there were whispers of some intimidation going on. None of it had any real basis, though, and I couldn’t use any of it.

  As I continued researching, I began to try to imagine the world that this man lived in. I tried to picture his friends, his enemies, his wants and his desires. I tried to get into his head as much as I could, and as I did that, I realized that I was interested in him for more than just his political connections.

  I was interested in him, as a person. I realized pretty early on that I wasn’t going to find anything on him, and yet I continued researching. I couldn’t help myself.

  There was a lot to do around the house, and yet I had this man on my mind.


  As I began to wind down, something suddenly pinged my console. I opened it up and realized that he was currently on the internet, or at least someone was on his computer.

  Smiling to myself, I decided to take his laptop over. I took control of it and made his screen blank. I typed him a message.

  “Hello, stranger.”

  It took almost five minutes for him to respond.

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “I’m me, and I want someone to protect me from muggers.”

  Another ten minutes went past. I was smiling to myself the whole time.

  “Louisa?”

  “The one and only.”

  His responses got faster now, like he wasn’t carefully considering them anymore and just typing to me.

  “How are you doing this?”

  “I’m very good with computers.”

  “Clearly. Why, though? You can just call.”

  “I can, but I thought this would be more fun. I want you to know that I’m serious.”

  “I know you’re serious.”

  “Do you? I can take control of anyone’s computer like this. I can read their messages, their emails, their personal files. Nothing is safe from me.”

  “Is that what you’re doing to me right now?”

  “I won’t pretend like I haven’t done my homework.”

  “Did you like what you found?”

  “Yes and no. You’re too clean.”

  “I know.”

  “How? This is a secure connection.”

  “I work very hard to maintain appearances,” he typed.

  “Still, there’s nothing.”

  “I have some help. But I’m also aware that anything I type in an email could be read by someone one day. So I am careful.”

  I nodded to myself, smiling. I liked that about him. He was a careful man because he was smart and could see a few moves in the future. He wasn’t so dumb that he thought he was invincible.

  “I want to meet,” I typed.

  “Okay. When?”

  “Tomorrow night. I’ll need protection.”

  “I can bring men.”

  “Just bring yourself.”

  “Okay then.”

  “I’ll be in your hotel lobby at nine.”