Bloodied Hands: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 1)

by Adelaide Forrest

  He took a sip of his coffee, placing it back in the exact spot on his desk where he kept it. Everything had a place. Then he handed me the photos. "Is there anyone who can pick up the slack until we can hire a replacement?"

  I nodded. "I'll divide the main accounts between Johnson and Romero, two each, and distribute the less demanding accounts between Skorzeny and Evans."

  "Perfect. What would I do without you?"

  "Crash and burn, most definitely. It's incredible you made it this far in your life without me. Honestly. I'm off to lunch. Do you think you can hold down the fort until I get back?"

  "I'm sure I'll manage somehow, Miss Mahoney."

  "Peachy." I turned on my heel, striding to my desk to grab my purse and head down to meet Lino for our biweekly lunch. I'd just locked my file drawer with all my confidential information when the elevator doors opened. Even if I hadn't known that Jasper had no appointments until later in the day, I'd have known who strutted out those doors anywhere.

  I didn't even have to look at him to feel the air change with his presence and hear the confidence to the gate of his step. His dress shoes tapped against the floor as he made his way to me. Glancing over, I followed those shoes, up over his body encased in grey and up to the devastatingly angular face that made women chase after him everywhere we went. His full lips titled into a stunning smile when our eyes met, the deep brown of his almond eyes shining as his strong brow softened.

  The bastard had worn my favorite grey three-piece suit, fitted to perfection over his lean but muscular form. Since I'd started the process for my divorce all those months ago, it felt like Lino and I were playing with fire, like something shifted in our friendship.

  But we both knew it couldn't. I wouldn't let it happen.

  I was done with men. Done with the hurt they caused. Not to mention my brother would revolt if he knew I got involved with Lino. He and Yavin partied together, worked together. Lino might have been my best friend, but Yavin filled a role that I never could. There was no chance that my protective best friend would take me into the underbelly of the world where they lived, and that meant that I stayed on the sidelines. Never really a part of his world, and never really out of it either. "Will you ever listen when I tell you to wait in the lobby?" I asked, smiling at him with a shake of my head as he leaned in to kiss my cheek.

  Normal. Expected.

  So why did it feel like his lips lingered, like he breathed me into his very soul?

  And why did my heart flutter like it had back in grade school?

  "When will you learn that I do what I want, Little Dove?" He brushed my copper hair over my shoulder, reaching down to take my right hand in his. His thumb stroked the birthmark on my palm, something he'd done since we'd been children. It seemed mostly involuntary at this stage in our lives, something he did completely out of habit. I rolled my eyes at him, but let him keep it in his as he led me to the elevators. Not for the first time, I wondered how things would have turned out if Lino had kept the promise he made all those years ago. The one that made me write Mrs. Samara Bellandi in my journal for years after.

  But when high school had come, he dated.

  He dated everyone but me. I couldn't blame him, not with the way girls threw themselves at both the Bellandi boys. I wondered if maybe he was waiting for me to turn sixteen, but sixteen came and went. Then high school came and went.

  Then college.

  Eventually, I'd just accepted that Angelino Bellandi would never marry me, and I'd given myself to the first man to treat me like I mattered.

  The elevator doors closed us in, and the air suddenly felt stifling. I still felt that pull, that irrational draw to Lino. While I'd convinced my heart that being his friend, having him so thoroughly immersed in my life was enough. My body was another story. The thumb still traced my palm, still stroked my skin so delicately like he thought I might break from the slightest pressure.

  He'd never know that I'd survived much worse pain. He could never know. I wouldn't be responsible for what happened to him if he did something there was no turning back from. I knew without a doubt, if he found out about the times Connor had hurt me, I'd lose Lino forever. Lose him to the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface.

  I wouldn't be responsible for that, not when it had been my stupidity and stubbornness that led me to that place.

  "Where did you go just now?" Lino asked, jolting me out of my thoughts. I turned my head up to look at him, feeling his gaze examining every piece of my face. As if he could see my injuries. See the internal scars I wore that I never allowed him to see. He frowned at me, and I knew his head ran through all the possibilities of what he might need to do to protect me from whatever made me lost in thought.

  "Nowhere of significance." I shrugged. "Work this morning was complicated. I had to investigate a rumor, dispose of the evidence to prevent damage to the company's reputation. I'm just distracted is all."

  His brow tensed, tarnishing that sexy businessman persona just enough for the devil to show his face. "You could come work for me."

  "I like my job. I rock at my job."

  "But it's stressful. I could give you a more low-key position." The elevator doors opened on the bottom floor, and we hurried through the lobby to make it to where I knew Lino's driver and bodyguard would wait on the curb. I nodded to both men, getting friendly smiles in return.

  "Miss Mahoney," one murmured respectfully, opening my door for me. I settled into the back seat and buckled in, turning my attention to Lino as soon as the doors closed behind him.

  "I need to stand on my own two feet, Lino, and you have to let me," I whispered.

  A contented sigh escaped when he reached down and grabbed my legs to pivot me in my seat. He slid the zipper down on my boot, stripping it off to press his thumbs into the arch. We would quickly come to the season where it needed to stop, where I wore pumps to work and wouldn't have socks to protect the secret of my scarred feet.

  Since Lino had spent years massaging my feet, my shoulders, taking care of me in every sense of the word, he would know without a doubt that the scars hadn't always been there. "You would be. It's not like you're not a hard-worker."

  "No, Lino," I said firmly, tugging my feet back and sliding the one back into my boot. He stared at my legs, his hands hanging in mid-air like he couldn't quite believe I'd stopped him mid-massage. Truthfully, neither could I.

  "Okay, what's going on with you?" he whispered, and I knew if there hadn't been seatbelts involved he'd have been in my face. "You're distancing yourself from me. I want to know why."

  "Don't be ridiculous. I am not distancing myself from you. You're my best friend."

  We rode the rest of the drive in silence, Lino's pissed off energy vibrating next to me. Even the two men in the front seat looked uncomfortable as they glanced back at us warily. Pulling up to Angel's was a relief. I got out of the car quickly, ignoring the way Lino looked ready to kill me. I knew damn well he liked to open my door for me, but I'd meant what I said about needing to stand on my own two feet. The divorce, the complete and total failure of my marriage, made me feel like a failure myself, and I needed to prove that I wasn't the problem. That I wasn't too codependent on my best friend. That I wasn't to blame for the way Connor's anger had simmered and erupted in our final months together.

  He growled as he stepped up beside me, pressing a hand to my lower back to guide me inside. The hostess knew him well since he took me to Angel's at least once a month. I tried not to think about the other women he'd probably taken there too, tried to tell myself it didn't matter.

  Placing my napkin in my lap, I tried not to flinch when he barked at me. "Is it the divorce?"

  "Why would you think that?"

  "Would you stop answering all my questions with a question and give me a goddamn answer, Samara? Is he still giving you trouble?" The waiter who filled our water glasses seemed to be comfortable with our conflict, turning a blind eye to it until Lino glared at him and he got the message
to disappear.

  "He doesn't want the divorce. I knew this would be a struggle. He has all the resources, and I'm just me." I sighed; I knew what came next.

  "I'll handle it."

  "No. I don't want you to get involved," I argued.

  "Little Dove-"

  "Do not Little Dove me."

  His features softened, which was always the unintended consequence when I stood up to him. "You never told me what made you file for the divorce."

  I pursed my lips, nibbling on one corner and deciding on what I might tell him to justify the seemingly abrupt decision. "He started gambling, was gone most nights. I just don't want to live my life like that, wondering where he is. If the money is really going to gambling or if it's going to hookers or blow. And then wondering if it even matters. That's not the life for me."

  "Christ, Samara. You should have told me." His face twisted into a pained expression, and I reached out a hand to grasp his in mine. I gave him a small smile to reassure him.

  "What could you have done? My marriage failed. Even if I sent you to stalk him and find out what he was up to, the moment I needed to send you to spy on him would have been the end. I won't be with someone I can't trust, financially, emotionally, and sexually." His hand spasmed, and I fought back my laugh. "Now can we please for the love of God just enjoy our lunch? Please?"

  "Anything for you, Little Dove," he whispered, and my heart clenched in my chest at the words I wished were true.

  He'd do anything for me.

  Except give me him.

  More from adelaide forrest

  Bellandi Crime Syndicate

  Bloodied Hands

  Forgivable Sins (Coming Soon)