THE ENFORCER: a Mafia Romance (Bad Romance Book 2)

by Shanna Bell

  “We’ve had some help.”

  Jazzy groaned. “Please don’t tell me Gio knows that man. I don’t want to think about my guy knowing monsters like that.”

  “Actually, it was Kristoff who found Pachenkov and helped us get to Zoe and the other kids.”

  Mary’s head snapped up. “There were more kids? What happened to them?”

  “Achilles took them to the hospital to get checked out. He’ll handle stuff from there with the cops.”

  Jazzy hummed. “I’m guessing the apprehending of this Pachenkov guy didn’t go by the book?”

  “No,” Hector admitted. “It’s not like we could call the SFPD and ask if they minded coordinating with the Bratva to get Zoe. It was a warzone over there when I left. I’m guessing San Fran’s finest didn’t get a call before the clean-up crew arrived. The official story is an anonymous tip.”

  It was in another hour that the doctor came and checked up on Zoe. Luckily the little girl was fine; that is, physically. They would have to wait and see how she processed what happened. After the doctor left, she took Zoe to bed.

  She found Hector in their bedroom, looking exhausted, and dropped next to him on the bed.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  He took her in his arms. “No need to thank me. I did what any man would do when his family is threatened.”

  She wanted to tell him that she loved him. That she valued him beyond any other man. It was like a dam inside her, building up for a long time now, but she couldn’t voice it. Not now. Not when he would think that she’d only said it because of gratitude.

  Instead of telling him, she was going to show him. Every day.

  CHAPTER 18

  HECTOR

  Hector didn’t wake up until dawn, which was unusual for him. Being in the Marine Corps had left him with an internal clock that rose with the sun. Then he remembered why he was so knackered.

  The night before.

  Zoe.

  Kristoff.

  A look to his side showed him that the bed was empty. He took a shower, put on some clothes, and went downstairs where he was greeted by the smell of bacon.

  Mary stood behind the counter in the kitchen island, making batter. Zoe sat on the carpet near the television, drawing in a book. The second the little girl spotted him, she jumped up.

  “Hector!”

  He gathered her up to his shoulders. “You okay, little one?”

  “Yes. Mary is making me blueberry pancakes, and then we are going to find me a room.”

  “Get you stuff for your room,” Mary corrected her with a smile.

  “Will you come with us?”

  “Sure.” It was a weekday and he should get back to work, but Achilles could hold down the fort.

  “Breakfast is almost ready,” Mary said, as she put some eggs in a skillet.

  He dropped Zoe back on her feet and sat at the table.

  “Zoe, why don’t you go wash your hands?” Mary asked. The little girl skipped away and ran back upstairs.

  When she was out of earshot, Hector asked, “She okay?”

  “She seems okay, but I’m not sure. I tried to ask about last night, but she closes up whenever I try to, and I don’t want to push. The doctor said children bounce back quickly. It might be a defense mechanism that she doesn’t want to talk about what happened. All we can do is make her feel safe.” She put the bacons and eggs on a plate and then on the table, followed by pouring him a cup of coffee.

  “My woman can cook.”

  “It’s just some bacon and eggs.”

  It was more than that. He remembered having breakfast when his mother was still alive. They didn’t have much, but whatever they had, they ate together. Sharing a table, sharing your food, was what being a family was about. He’d never understood that until his mother died. Mary didn’t, couldn’t, know what this meant to him. He wanted to haul her over the table and pull her on his lap, but the pitter-patter of tiny feet stopped him.

  Zoe ran back into the kitchen. He liked seeing that after the subdued way she’d been in the warehouse.

  They had breakfast together, talking about nothing much. Zoe talked a mile an hour. When she was finished, she suddenly stared down at her plate.

  “Do I have to go back?”

  God, the sound of her voice. It seemed as if the kid was readying herself for bad news.

  “Zoe. Look at me.”

  She looked up, her big hazel eyes watery. He held out his hands and she hopped off her stool and crawled into his lap. Then she started crying. Big, fat tears pooled on her face and wet his shirt.

  “I don’t want to go back with Mrs. Wilson to that place. Nobody makes cupcake there or wants to braid my hair. And I missed Mary.”

  As much as he wanted to reassure her, he wasn’t ever going to make a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. Nothing was worse than relying on someone, thinking they would help you, and then be disappointed.

  “We’re going to do everything we can to keep you with us. Everything. Now, we need to talk to some people first, so we can keep you with us, okay?”

  “What kind of people?” She sniffed.

  “Mrs. Wilson and a judge. They’re going to look to see if this house is a good place for you. And when they do, you can stay here.”

  “Promise?”

  “Cross my heart. Now go get ready, so we can get you a new room.”

  Mary took Zoe out of his arms and gave him another kiss. Then they went upstairs.

  As soon as he was alone, he called Jackson. “Talk to me about the guardianship thing. Tell me we got a shot at this.”

  “Actually, I’ve been on the phone with Mary’s lawyer and there will be a hearing tomorrow morning. CPS plans on visiting you this evening. They wanted to give you some time after the happenings of last night.”

  “And Pachenkov? Any word on him?”

  “Guess you haven’t seen the news yet. Pachenkov was found in a ditch on the outskirts of town, with all of his organs removed. SFPD isn’t exactly in a rush to solve that particular crime. They think it was a cleanup job, and the world is a better place without him roaming the streets. Your buddy Ivan didn’t fare much better. They found him in an alley with his hands chopped off.”

  He had to give it to Kristoff; he really did have a poetic way of dealing with scum.

  They spent the afternoon in a bunch of home decor stores. His two girls had the time of their lives picking out a bed, wallpaper, a new closet, and every other accessory a six-year-old couldn’t live without, according to Mary. Zoe stayed close by. He noticed that every now and then, she would disappear, and a few minutes later, she came back, reaching for his hand. Part of her needed the reassurance that he was still there. It amazed and humbled him at the same time, that this little human saw him as her protector. It also made him all the more determined to keep her in their lives. And to keep his crazy at bay.

  Of course, that’s when it happened.

  In the sea of swarming bodies, he saw Decker. His dead friend’s face so close by and yet so far away. It was like taking a slug to the chest.

  Dios, proteja mi.

  He was beginning to see dead people.

  During daylight.

  CHAPTER 19

  MARY

  There were two moments in her life Mary would remember forever; marrying Hector and becoming legal guardian to Zoe. Last night, Mrs. Wilson had come for an inspection, after which she’d given them her blessing. And this afternoon, the judge had made it official. She was on cloud nine, practically dancing in the kitchen.

  She’d tucked Zoe into bed an hour ago. Hector hadn’t been able to make it to dinner tonight, but he was on his way. All she had to do was prepare her class for tomorrow, then she would make her husband the Italian dinner of his life.

  Last night, he had seemed a bit off. After Mrs. Wilson had left, he went back to work, not returning until the early morning. Though she was disappointed by his absence, she kept that to herself. He was a busy man a
fter all, running his own company.

  Making Hector happy was one of her missions in life. She didn’t ever want him to regret marrying her. So tonight, she was making his favorite dinner, and then she hoped he would make her his dinner.

  She was looking up an old recipe, when the doorbell rang and then her sister waltzed inside.

  Gina looked as beautiful as ever in a pink designer dress. It was the first time since before her wedding she’d seen her sister. The last time they had talked was when she’d invited Gina to the wedding. Frankly, she was still hurt that her own sister hadn’t bothered to come.

  “I like your house, though it’s a bit small. I would have thought Hector could afford something bigger.”

  “Nice to see you too, sis,” she said dryly.

  Gina dropped onto the couch. “It’s good to be back on U.S. soil. You have no idea how stuck up Andrew’s family was.”

  Mary sat on the recliner across her sister. “Andrew?” She couldn’t keep up with the men Gina was dating.

  “He’s British. Comes from old money and a line of blue blood. He thinks dating a mob princess, as he’s dubbed me, is incredibly naughty.” She snorted. “He also believes that he’s saving me from this life. All I have to do is keep up appearances until he pops the question.”

  It seemed a tedious job; pretending to be something you’re not. “I’m glad you’re home. We haven’t readied a guest room yet, but I’ve put your stuff in the attic, so you can—”

  “I’m not here to stay. I just need…” A blush spread over Gina’s high cheekbones. “Andrew is taking me to a fundraiser tomorrow night. It will be filled with snooty British people and the creme de la creme of San Fran’s high society. I can’t show up in an old dress, and I can’t ask Andrew to buy me one. He will think that I’m after his money.”

  Mary swallowed a hateful remark. She wished she could make her sister see that she didn’t need a man to make a living.

  “You need money.”

  “Yes. For the dress, and uh… I owe some to certain people.”

  “What kind of people?”

  “No one of any importance. Once I have Andrew’s ring on my finger, it will all resolve itself. Now, can you help me out or not?”

  “Of course I’ll help you out, you’re my sister. I don’t have much on me right now, but—”

  Gina let out a harsh laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Look at where you live.”

  Yes, she lived in a big house, but it was Hector’s. “You know this isn’t my house. You know that me living here doesn’t automatically mean that I’m rich. Of all people, you should know that.”

  A shrewd look entered Gina’s eyes. “If you play your cards right, you could be rich.”

  She didn’t like the sound of where this was going. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Did you sign a pre-nup?”

  “Um, no.” It had never even crossed her mind. She didn’t have any assets—other than a shrinking trust fund—and she’d just assumed Hector was doing well with his company. She hadn’t known about him owning shares in the multi-billion-dollar Detta corporation.

  “Good. This gives you all the power and a lot of options. You don’t have to stay with him, you know. You could just leave him and take everything with you.”

  Mary started feeling really uncomfortable. “I would never do that. And I’m done talking about this with you.”

  “Don’t be naive, Mary. Men cheat. They get bored. Especially rich men. Sooner or later, Hector will go looking for another. You should be prepared for that. It can’t hurt to talk to a lawyer. Hector might not share the same last name as the Dettas, but he is one nonetheless. When the inevitable happens, he will try to intimidate you into signing—”

  “Stop.” She took a deep breath. “I understand that you’re going through a difficult time. Especially after what happened with Jazzy. I know Gio had a talk with you.” Which was probably an understatement. Gina had been chalk-white after whatever Gio had threatened her with. Unlike what her sister believed, Mary wasn’t naive. Gina had played a role in Jazzy’s kidnapping, even if it were by accident. Men like Giovanni Detta didn’t normally let that slide. Her sister was lucky to be alive. “But I can’t let you slander Hector in his own home. That man has been nothing but good to me and Zoe. I don’t believe he will try any intimidation tactics, should it come to a divorce.” She ignored Gina’s snort. “Besides, he wouldn’t have to. I would gladly sign any document. I’d even do it now if he asked me.”

  “You’re a fool,” Gina spat, jumping off the couch.

  Mary expected her sister to make a dramatic exit, as she was prone to do, but she was still standing. Right, the money.

  She took out a few hundred-dollar bills from her purse and gave it to her. “That’s all I have on me right now.”

  Gina took the money and spun around, then froze. Mary followed her gaze. Hector was standing in the doorway.

  Her sister mumbled a greeting and made herself scarce.

  When the door closed behind Gina, Mary walked up to her husband. She blushed, unsure of how much he’d overheard of her conversation with Gina.

  Hector pulled her close and gave her a long and lingering kiss. She melted against him and felt the tension drain out of her.

  “You’re wrong, by the way, hermosa.”

  She gave him a confused look. “About?”

  “This house. It is yours. You are what makes it a home.”

  It was probably the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to her. The only thing she regretted were the circumstances in which he said those words.

  “I’m sorry about what Gina said. She’s—”

  “Don’t. Don’t ever apologize for another.”

  “My sister, she’s….”

  Weak.

  It was the right word, but saying that out loud somehow felt like a betrayal. Still, she wanted him to understand.

  “Gina has always been sheltered, even more so than me. She’s not a bad person, she’s just…”

  “Spoiled?”

  “That too, but it’s because she doesn’t know any better. We grew up in a golden cage. And then, from one day to the other, our grandfather died. His assets were seized, and everything disappeared. The mansion, the expensive cars, the bodyguards. Gina’s like a fish on dry land. She’s trying to survive by reaching for a faraway ocean instead of hopping into the nearest pond. Because that’s the world she’s used to. She has never known anything else but to have the best of the best.”

  “You grew up the same way.”

  True point. “You know the nature versus nurture discussion. I was told that one traumatic event, especially as a child, has the power to change one’s personality. Maybe I would have turned out just like my sister if the thing with Marco hadn’t happened.” She held up the palm of her hand, showing him the self-inflicted scar tissue. It was a single white scar. “You’re not the only one with scars, you know. Unlike yours, mine didn’t happen in the line of duty, though.”

  It was difficult to talk about it, but she felt like she should. He’d told her about his scars, how it was the result of flying shrapnel after an ambush. An ambush that had cost him a friend from his unit.

  He entwined their fingers. “Tell me what happened.”

  “The night of Marco’s attack, Jazzy cut herself while trying to save me. The worst thing was that she cut herself on my scissors. Due to some nerve damage, she almost lost the use of her arm. I wanted to talk about it. Wanted to apologize. Thank her. Do something. I was seven, and I didn’t fully comprehend what happened, but I knew Marco was wrong. He made my skin crawl, but I couldn’t tell anyone before his drunk midnight stroll into my room, let alone after it. Things like that weren’t discussed in our home. My grandfather just banished Marco and his name was never mentioned again. We all pretended as if Jazzy just had an accident. I…” She sighed. “I felt guilty and wanted to feel a fraction of what Jazzy felt when the scissors cut into her. It seemed unfair that Ja
zzy got hurt while saving me, and I was peachy keen.”

  “You were not peachy keen. And don’t ever compare yourself to your sister again. I don’t give a shit about the nature and nurture thing. No matter what did or didn’t happen to you, unlike your sister, you don’t have it in you to hurt people. It’s not in your DNA.” He took her in his arms and carried her to their bedroom.

  He put her on the edge of their bed and undressed her. When she was naked, she turned on her belly. She knew what her man wanted.

  There was no foreplay, or even a slight peck on her ass, he just rammed into her and had his way with her. Mary enjoyed every second. When they both were spent, she watched him go into the bathroom. He came back with a wet towel, and cleaned her between her legs.

  She sighed into the comforter. Life had never been so good. All she wanted to do right now was snuggle up to Hector, bask in his heat.

  Then he took his pillow from the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  He looked caught. “I uh... I didn’t get much sleep last night, so I’m gonna sleep in the room next door.” The closing of the door sounded like a hammer to the head.

  She blinked.

  He left their room to sleep in another bed? After she had poured her soul out to him? Right after they had made love? A knife to the chest would have hurt less.

  The man has a right to a good night’s sleep.

  Since when did you become so reasonable?

  He’s probably just tired.

  Or maybe it was the beginning of the end of her marriage. She was going to end up like her mother. Sleeping in separate beds, stocking up on booze, and ending up hating her husband.

  A good wife would be considerate of her husband’s needs. In fact, a really good wife would make him a hearty breakfast the next morning.

  She jumped off the bed and opened the door to where Hector was sleeping. Though ‘threw open’ would be more truthful.

  He jack-knifed up in the bed. “Mary? Everything okay? Is Zoe—?”