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Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs Book 2)

Page 6

by B. B. Hamel


  I watched him for a few seconds before nodding. “I think that was the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  That seemed to annoy him. “I’ve never lied.”

  “Not lying and telling the truth are two different things. But okay, I’ll leave Erin alone, although this wasn’t my fault.”

  He shoved open the back door. “You’ve done enough damage today. Maybe you should stay in your room.” His eyes glanced down to my lower lip where he’d bitten me.

  It was still pink and swollen.

  Plump, delicious.

  Fucking bastard.

  “How’d your meeting go, by the way?”

  “The Ukrainians are going to kill more Italians.” He deadpanned as he steered me inside. “And thanks to you, Roman is distracted. I’ll make sure the Libertos are out of his control by the end of the month.”

  “Why did you just tell me that?” I stared at him, not sure how to take any of this. He shook his head, as if he felt the same way.

  “You said your life is involved in what I do, and you’re right. So if you want to feel like some of this blood’s on your hands too, then I’ll be happy to keep you informed.”

  “I’m not killing anybody. You’re the one pulling the trigger.”

  “And yet plenty of people are going to die because you’re here.” He touched my cheek.

  I slapped his hand away. “That’s not my fault. It’s yours.”

  He only laughed and walked off.

  I watched him go, fuming.

  That man drove me absolutely wild with rage. One moment he acted like he wanted to rip my clothes off, and the next he seemed like he might tear my throat out from my mouth. To be fair, I wasn’t exactly playing the part of the submissive, quiet captive. I fully planned on making his life hell.

  But he’d make mine just as bad—or worse.

  7

  Darren

  Roman sounded tired.

  He always sounded—something. Stressed, on edge, pushed to his limits. That was how he lived: always one step away from the edge.

  It made him dangerous.

  “My wife is unhappy with present circumstances.”

  I smiled to myself and paced around my desk. Anthony rolled his eyes from his seat near the fire, slouching back in the chair.

  I should have more people in the room for a conversation with another Oligarch. At the very least, my mother would want to have Chika present.

  But this wasn’t something I wanted recorded.

  “I can imagine she is.”

  “What will it take to get Winter back?”

  “Renounce your wealth and walk away from the world.”

  He didn’t laugh. He rarely did. The bastard had the worst sense of humor in the world. I didn’t know what Cassie saw in him.

  “We both know that isn’t going to happen. You’ve made my life extremely difficult lately, Darren. You’re lucky you’re not dead.”

  “Idle threats, Roman.”

  “They aren’t idle.” His voice took on a menacing pitch. “You killed my men. You flooded my home.”

  “Casualties in a war. You would’ve done the same to me if you were in my position.”

  “Regardless, you broke the rules. You ruined the truce. What’s your game?”

  “You know what my game is.” I stared into the fire, watched the flames consume the wood, turn it into ash. “The problem is, you won’t play along.”

  “The world doesn’t work that way.”

  “But it should.”

  He let out a grumble. Roman, so dramatic.

  “What do you want?” he pressed. “Give me terms. Something to work with. Otherwise, I’ll dedicate all of my time to hunting you down.”

  “I doubt that. You’re fending off intrusions from multiple crime families while handling the other Oligarchs. That stunt with the MacKenna family annoyed a lot of people.”

  “And yet you’re the one that broke the rules.”

  Anthony made a jerking motion with his hand. Rules obsessed loser, he mouthed.

  I clenched my jaw and ignored him.

  “I want you to renounce your claim to the Libertos and the MacKennas. I won’t suggest you step away from the Brozdov, considering your historical ties, but that would be appreciated.”

  Roman chuckled darkly. “Would you like my cock cut off and put in a little box with a bow around it as well?”

  “You control three families. That’s three too many. You know how we do things.”

  “I thought we did. But then you flooded my home.”

  “Renounce them Roman. Do that now and spare yourself a lot of pain. You know the others won’t allow this to go on forever.”

  “The others don’t have a choice. Cassie wants Winter back, and I will give my wife whatever she asks for. Return the girl and this can be over. I won’t seek revenge for what you did to my home.”

  I looked at Anthony. He looked as surprised as I felt.

  Drowning Roman’s little creepy super villain bunker was an act of serious provocation. If I’d done that at any other time, the rest of the Oligarchs would’ve rolled up to my door and dealt a serious and swift and likely long-lasting punishment to my operation.

  However, given Roman’s growing strength, there are more than a few of them that agree with what I did.

  Not all, but a few. Enough to keep my head on my shoulders.

  For now, anyway.

  But Roman’s offer to drop his revenge is almost tempting. When I had his men killed and dumped tons of water down into that wretched place, I was escalating a war that’d been simmering between us for at least twenty years. I looked at Anthony again, at his strange, blue eyes and his easy smile, and I wondered how we’d let this get so far.

  Family did that to a person. Blood connections mattered, but how you spent your life mattered even more. I didn’t have to be related to a person to love them like a brother or a sister.

  It helped, but it wasn’t everything.

  Release Winter and we could return to equilibrium.

  Except I didn’t want the status quo. Roman was too strong whether he wanted to kill me or not.

  And we’d never get along, not with the past still staring over our shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Roman. I have to keep the girl.”

  “That’s unacceptable.”

  “I knew you’d feel that way. Tell your wife what my terms are. I’m sure she’ll talk some sense into you.”

  “Darren. You’re making a mistake. I won’t sit by and wait for much longer.”

  “No, Roman, I don’t think you will,” I said softly, almost sadly, and felt a whirling heady mix of emotions as I hung up the phone.

  Anthony watched me carefully. He fingered a button on his shirt, head tilted to the side, his usual smile flattened into a strange neutral stare.

  “That went well.”

  I leaned against my desk and crossed my arms. “He’ll get aggressive.”

  “Yes, he will. That’s what he does. Throws a tantrum when he doesn’t get what he wants.”

  “I drowned the place where he lives. I don’t think it’s a tantrum to hit back.”

  Anthony shrugged impassively. “You know how I feel about him.”

  “I worry that we let the past dictate too much of the present.”

  He took a long breath and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Does it matter? Then past doesn’t change and what’s happening now is all we can influence.”

  “We’re getting too philosophical for a couple of gangsters.”

  He snorted. “We’re not gangsters and you know it.”

  “I only want to make sure we’re not targeting Roman because of what he’s done, but because of what he might do.”

  “We’re in agreement there. We want the same thing.”

  “Good.” I watched my little brother carefully. He smiled so easily and was so quick to laugh, but there was a lot hiding beneath his surface: lies and heartbreak and rage, so much
rage, simmering down deep. I feared that one day it would blow sky high and take everything we’ve worked to build up with him.

  “What’s our next move?”

  I walked back around my desk and sat. “I have a meeting with Kaspar and Maeve in Chicago. I want to bring Winter with me.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Is that smart?”

  “Probably not, but it might be interesting, and I don’t want to hide her from them.”

  “She’s a token of good will then.”

  “Something like that.”

  His smile slipped back into position like it’d never left at all. “Then you have my blessing, big brother.”

  “Not that I need it, but thank you. Make the preparations please, and tell the girls we’ll be gone.”

  “Penny won’t be happy. I think she likes Winter.”

  “Too bad for Penny then, because Winter is under strict orders to stay away from them.”

  “You’re too protective sometimes.”

  “I wasn’t protective enough once and you remember what happened.”

  He shrugged and got to his feet. “Barely. I was ten, remember? Anyway, I’ll get the ball rolling.”

  He left the room and shut the door behind him.

  I sat back in my chair and stared at the crackling fire.

  I trusted Anthony with my life. He was my little brother, after all, but there were things about him that I feared. It wasn’t just his personality—I could handle that aspect of him.

  It was his past, where he came from, and what it meant for all our lives.

  Too many secrets, too many lies.

  My world was a cesspool of interconnected family histories and violence stretching back over generations.

  And there was no reason it would ever end.

  Unless someone stepped up and did something about it.

  8

  Winter

  Someone banged on my door the second I stepped out of the shower the next morning.

  My lip still ached and the ghost of his touch lingered on my skin.

  “Just a minute,” I called out, scrambling to grab some clothes.

  I didn’t expect them to wait.

  The bedroom door opened as I wrapped the towel around myself and stood silhouetted in the bathroom.

  Darren strode in and stopped. He tilted his head to the side and stared at me for several long, silent seconds like he was inspecting a painting.

  My pulse hammered. Neither of us moved.

  I was caught in front of a lion with my body covered in raw meat.

  His eyes darted along my skin. I was still blotchy and flushed from the hot water. I was so afraid to move, and danger hung heavy in the air. One misstep and he’d pounce.

  I didn’t know what he’d take. More than I wanted him to, that was for sure. But how far, I didn’t know.

  My body, my dignity. All of me.

  My heart raced in looping rhythms and I felt like I might tip over and pass out at any second. My vision was blurry, my mouth dry.

  And some quiet part of me, some distant and terrible voice in the back of my head told me to step forward and let the towel fall to the ground.

  I could think of a hundred reasons why I’d want to do that: to continue my game of flirty distractions; to see how he’d react; to confuse him long enough to grab something sharp to plunge into his throat; to finally feel his lips and teeth and fingers along my naked flesh.

  Any of those, all of those. Hate and desire. Fuck, he looked like he might explode, all of him tense and nearly shaking.

  “You should get dressed. We have a long day.” He locked eyes with me.

  “What are we doing?”

  “You’re going to meet some people. Important people.” He stepped forward.

  I stepped backward. I was trapped.

  “Who?”

  “People like me.”

  “Cassie tried to explain it, but I’m not sure I totally understand.”

  He stopped his advance and wrinkled his nose. “I’m sure she only gave you a partial picture at best.”

  “She said you’re rich and powerful and you run the mafia families from the shadows.”

  “Partial at best.” He turned and walked away. I felt bold enough to close the door, though left it open a crack. His voice drifted through as I pulled on my clothes as fast as I could.

  I wasn’t out of danger, but the worst had passed.

  “We call ourselves the Oligarchs,” he said, his voice modulating slightly as he paced. “It’s not a name I would’ve chosen, but it’s what we have. The group has been around for longer than America has been a country, dating back to the Old World. Membership changes from time to time, but the methods never do.”

  I stepped back out, covered now, and toweled my hair. “Which are?”

  “Money, violence, and coercion.” He looked disappointed as his eyes drifted along my body. I felt a strange resentment at that. “We are a group of pragmatic families dedicated to leashing the worst impulses of humanity. We run the crime organizations so that they don’t go wild.”

  “You make it sound so noble.”

  He grimaced. “It’s not. Perhaps I’m biased. That’s how I want to see what we are, but the truth is, we’re a bunch of rich people that use others as pawns in decades-old games.”

  “Like this struggle between you and Roman?”

  His eyes snapped up again. A smile tugged at his lips. “That’s perceptive.”

  “Why do you hate him so much?”

  “He’s too strong. No single Oligarch can rule the rest.”

  “That’s not it. Not totally anyway.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because it involves me now.”

  He stopped pacing and crossed his arms. He tilted his head thoughtfully and studied me. “You’re right that my feud with Roman goes back a long time and it’s very personal. But that’s all you need to know.”

  “Your sisters are involved, aren’t they?”

  “Not the way you think.”

  I shook my head, frustrated. I hated that he kept so many secrets—but he had no reason to tell me anything.

  I was the captive. I was at his mercy. Any crumb of information he fed me was more than he owed.

  And yet I craved everything. Demanded more than I should’ve.

  That was just my stupid mouth.

  Couldn’t help myself.

  I hung the towel up on the back of the door and leaned against the frame.

  “All right then, big Oligarch. Where are you taking me?”

  A smile. I liked his smile while simultaneously hating it.

  Our relationship was like that. Push and pull. Attraction and disgust.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Chicago. One of the other Oligarchs lives there and another’s visiting. I want to introduce you.”

  “Bringing me deeper into the game?”

  “More like offering you as a bargaining chip.”

  “I’m not sure I like that.”

  He walked over with that leg-shaking stare. His eyes were the color of fresh grass and nearly glowed with the inner light of his desire. I didn’t know when I’d finally break and throw myself at him—

  But I knew it’d happen.

  And when it did, I wasn’t sure if I’d walk away hating myself, or walk away at all.

  He stopped and leaned against the jamb with his arms, his face inches from mine.

  “I’m not sure I give a shit what you like.”

  I tried not to let him know that his proximity bothered me. “Why would the other Oligarchs need to know about me?”

  “Because of Roman. He’s going to start getting aggressive and I want them to understand the situation as fully as they can before they start picking sides.”

  “So you’re using me in your little war.”

  He reached up and touched my cheek softly with the back of his thumb. “You knew that already.”

  “But not just against Roman.”

&nb
sp; “No, there’s always another level.”

  “Should I be afraid of this meeting?”

  He smiled. “Of course.”

  My heart paused then raced to catch up with itself. My hands were shaking and sweat pooled beneath my arms. “I’m no good to you dead.”

  “I told you before, I don’t plan on letting you die. But I can’t promise you won’t get hurt.”

  I touched my lip. “I think I’ve already been hurt.”

  “Sorry love, but we’re only just getting started.” He lingered with his hand against my face and I didn’t pull away—I didn’t know why.

  Afraid he’d do something drastic. Afraid I’d provoke him.

  Or just enjoying his presence.

  He turned away and strode to the nightstand.

  “Chika will fetch you soon. Pack whatever clothes you can.”

  “I don’t have a bag.”

  He gestured toward the closet. “There’s an overnight in the back. Bring only what you’ll need for an evening.”

  “Where are we staying?”

  “I have an apartment there.” He picked up the tracking bracelet and brought it back.

  I held out my wrist. No use fighting him, and the rules were clear: if we left the house, I had to wear it.

  But he knelt down in front of me instead of locking it around my wrist.

  I sucked in a surprise breath. He tugged up the leg of my jeans and wrapped the bracelet around my ankle. It was tight, but it stretched to fit.

  “There.” His fingers traced a line down my calf. “Now you won’t be so tempted to take it off.”

  “Feels al to more like house arrest.”

  “That’s okay. You’ll forget it’s there.” He lingered like he wanted to kiss my neck then stood. “The people we’re about to meet are dangerous. They’re not like me.”

  “You’re safe?”

  “Safer than them. You’d be surprised.”

  “No, I don’t think I would,” I whispered, lips hanging open.

  The ghost of pain still on my tongue.

  “Sometimes I forget that you grew up in our world, or something like it.” He touched my arm then squeezed it tight, pulling me close. “Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t speak out of turn, don’t try and run away. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”

 

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