Pretty Sinner: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs Book 3)

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Pretty Sinner: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs Book 3) Page 6

by B. B. Hamel


  I wasn’t just some trophy for Kaspar to parade around.

  Scott never rejoined the guards. Maybe he really was dead—I couldn’t be sure, and I didn’t bother asking.

  Nobody would tell me the truth.

  I felt guilty. I dreamed about him that night. I saw his face kicked to a pulp, his eyes pleading and accusatory, and I tried to explain that it wasn’t my fault, I was just looking for a friend, but he said I used him, I used him, and I got him killed, just like I got everyone killed.

  I woke up in a sticky, cold sweat, and took a long, hot shower before I felt well enough to face the day.

  The other guards, they were harder to read than Scott, but they were still human. There was Bumbles, a big guy with ham hands and a loud, goofy laugh, and Skinny Jim, a whip-thin man with an evil smirk and a short temper. But my favorite of the group was Cards—an older gentleman with a gut and kind blue eyes. He was constantly badgering the others into playing cards with him, and always made them bet real money. He was stingy with his winnings and angry when he lost, and I couldn’t help but spot the opportunity.

  Only I had to figure out a way to maneuver myself into the right position.

  That afternoon I sat down in the quiet living room and watched out the front window. Skinny Jim was on duty and he lingered near the kitchen, doing his best to watch me without actually watching me. In one of the back rooms, I heard Cards roaring with delight as he presumably won another hand.

  I stretched my legs and looked back at Skinny Jim. He looked at the ceiling, apparently very interested in a water stain.

  “Would you mind getting me some tea?”

  He looked startled, glanced over his shoulder, then stared at me. “Tea?”

  “You know, hot water, bag with dried leaves? Usually turns brown after a bit.”

  “I know what tea is. I don’t work for you.”

  “No, but you work for the man that’s obsessed with me, so I think it’d be smart to be kind.”

  He hesitated then rolled his eyes. “Michaels,” he barked, shouting toward the back. “I need you on duty.”

  Cards came stomping out into the front room, glaring. “I was up three hands.”

  “The girl wants tea.” Skinny Jim sneered at me. “Watch her for me.”

  “Steep it for five minutes, please,” I called after him. “I hate when it’s weak!”

  Cards grinned at me and adjusted his belt. He held a rifle under his arm and whistled softly to himself as I studied him for a few quiet moments.

  He was rough around the edges. His clothes were rumpled and he needed a shave. He was older than the others by a decade at least, and he was in the worst shape. The other guards all treated him like an unwanted stepchild, but he still managed to keep a smile on his portly face.

  “How long have you been working for Kaspar?” I asked, shifting to face him.

  He stared at me and his grin didn’t falter. He must’ve been winning a lot today. “A few years.”

  “Is he a good boss?”

  He snorted. “Ask someone else.”

  “That’s not a great answer, but I can’t really blame you.”

  “Please stop talking to me.”

  I sighed and tugged at my hair, frowning out the window again. “I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I didn’t want Kaspar to hurt Scott.”

  “Scott was a fool.”

  I tried not to smile and didn’t look back. “Why do you say that?”

  I heard Cards shift from foot to foot. He was nervous now. He shouldn’t have said that. “Mind your own business and stop talking.”

  “I’m only curious, is all. Scott was friendly, but I’m not so sure the rest of you will do your jobs to keep me alive when the time comes.”

  “We’ll do our jobs.” He sounded angry.

  I looked back at him and stood. He took a step back and ran into the wall as I approached. “You know who I am, don’t you? You know who my family are?”

  “Of course. That’s why we’ll make sure nobody touches you.”

  I nodded a little and tilted my head. “What if I paid you to make sure the opposite happened?”

  His mouth opened then it snapped shut. Anger burned in his eyes. “You think I can be bought, little girl?”

  “I think you need money. I’ve been watching you. Whenever you have the chance, you’re gambling, and the others indulge it, but they don’t respect you. I have a feeling Kaspar doesn’t respect you, either. I bet he pays you just enough to keep you around, but not enough to let you thrive. Am I right?”

  Cards stared at me and my heart was racing. I looked back and tried to smile sweetly, but this moment was too important—my plan hung suspended in the air, dangling from the ceiling, ready to either smash to pieces on the simple wooden floor, or about to soar out into space.

  “I think you’re playing a dangerous game, girl,” he said softly, eyes narrowed—but he didn’t deny anything.

  “I can’t offer you respect, but I can offer you money. The Servant Family will pay anyone that brings me home handsomely, and I will personally make sure that my brother gives you a position at the manor. You’ll have a salary and you’ll be safe from Kaspar’s revenge. You won’t have to play cards anymore, unless you want to do it for fun.”

  He licked his lips like I’d presented him with a beautiful chicken dinner.

  “Go sit down,” he ordered.

  And again, I noticed that he didn’t say no.

  I smiled at him and walked away. I was shaking when I took my seat again and looked out the window. My hands trembled and I knew I was playing a dangerous game that could easily backfire and get someone killed, but I couldn’t help myself.

  This was my life. If I rolled over and let Kaspar do whatever the hell he wanted with me, then I was finished. That would only prove everything I already thought about myself—that I was worthless, useless, rotten, and dumb.

  Cards wasn’t going to turn right away, but I’d planted the seed.

  He’d think about my offer. And if I was lucky, and I could engineer the perfect opportunity, he just might turn.

  For now, that was all I could hope for.

  Skinny Jim returned with tea on a tray. He dropped it on the coffee table with a snort and relieved Cards who returned to the back room without so much as a glance in my direction. That was good—he wanted to seem like everything was normal.

  But it wasn’t.

  I sipped my tea. “Thank you,” I said politely and smiled at Skinny Jim. “It’s good.”

  He ignored me.

  Cards would sit back down and return to his game, but he wouldn’t be so loud. No, he’d be quiet, contemplative, and maybe he’d lose a few hands, maybe he’d win a few, but he’d look at himself and wonder—all of this for what, for a boss that didn’t give a damn?

  And that might bring him right to me.

  It was a long shot, but I had nothing else.

  Scott proved it was possible.

  And I was willing to get another man killed if it meant breaking free of this cage.

  I was a Servant, after all.

  10

  Kaspar

  Present Day

  Rome, Italy

  The meeting went down in the basement beneath an old church.

  There were a thousand churches in Rome, each of them more ancient than the last—according to their clergy, at least. This particular building had ties to my family going back generations, and its priest left the doors unlocked and the gates open, but he wasn’t around when my men secured the perimeter.

  The room was damp but fitting. The floors were bare stone and the walls were carved from the bedrock hundreds of years ago. There were niches cut in each corner, but the skulls and bones had been pulled away, leaving only the tell-tale scratches in the brick. This place had been ransacked, probably in the Middle Ages, and anything worthwhile stripped away, leaving only dust and grime behind.

  My men set up a table and lit candles. Penny stood near the back, r
unning her fingers over the edge of a cross that must’ve been two hundred years old.

  “Why are we down here?” she asked once my guards were gone, leaving us alone.

  “Bernhard wanted somewhere safe. I couldn’t think of anywhere better.”

  “Why not your house?”

  “He wants the illusion of control. I agreed to let his men sweep this area earlier today, but I never would’ve allowed him to enter one of my homes unaccompanied.”

  She shook her head, looking frustrated. “I still don’t understand what you plan on doing with Redmond.”

  I grinned at her and put a finger to my lips. “Shh, little pet. We don’t talk about that. You’re liable to get us all killed.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but shut it again.

  Michaels appeared a few minutes later. He stood with his back rigid, his beer belly poking out over his tight combat fatigues. He was a physical specimen back on his day, but now he looked like a linebacker gone to seed.

  “Sir, the Orchard men are approaching.”

  “Thank you. Bring them down.”

  Michaels nodded and disappeared back outside. I wondered if I noticed a glimpse in Penny’s direction, but no, that was unlikely—he was one of my most loyal men.

  Bernhard came in first, followed by two of his guards. He looked worse than I remembered, huffing and puffing, with a thin sheen of sweat. He was a heavy man and wore a wide-legged suit, years out of fashion but ludicrously expensive. His son followed, Redmond looking hale and happy, and both men nodded as their guards took up posts next to the door.

  “Thank you for coming, Bernhard,” I said, greeting the Oligarch. “I see you’ve dragged your son along. Tell me, Redmond, what did your father bribe you with this time? Another car?”

  Redmond laughed and waggled his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Kaspar, you old dog.”

  I gestured for them to sit and they joined me at the table. Penny remained standing, watching with a wary glare.

  Bernhard looked over at her and sighed. “So you really did it then.”

  “It’ll be a profitable marriage.”

  “Assuming she actually marries you,” Bernhard snapped and gestured at Penny. “Do you plan on doing what this man says, or are you going to make his life hell?”

  I grinned and looked back at Penny.

  “Hell,” she said.

  Bernhard snorted and Redmond laughed.

  I only met her eyes with a manic smile.

  She looked away, unable to hold my gaze.

  “Come on, Kaspar, this is insane even for you.” Old Bern leaned toward me, looking grumpy as always. “Darren’s not going to let you keep his sister, even if you do manage to drag her down the aisle and bribe a priest to make it official.”

  “Darren will see the wisdom of this union eventually.”

  “Darren loves his family too much,” Redmond said, slapping a hand on the table. “But he doesn’t love his family name enough.”

  I nodded in agreement and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Redmond could lay it on thick sometimes.

  Old Bern grunted at his son. “What would you do, in Darren’s position, boy?”

  Redmond flinched but held his father’s stare. “I’d make Kaspar pay, but I’d sanction the marriage in the end.”

  “Pay how?”

  “Money, territory, I don’t know. I’d think of something.”

  “Good thing you don’t have a sister,” Old Bern growled.

  “Enough,” I said before they turned to blows. Despite being father and son, I’d never seen Redmond and Old Bern get along for more than five seconds.

  Which was probably why Redmond had agreed to my plan.

  “We didn’t come here to argue about my future wife,” I continued once I had their attention. “You know what I want from you, Bernhard, and I hope you’ve considered it.”

  “I’ve considered it,” he said, shaking his head, “and I won’t take the plunge. Not with you and not with anybody.”

  I sighed and spread my hands though it was exactly what I had expected. “You know killing Maeve will benefit us all. Your crews have been jostling against her territory in the Midwest for years, and with her out of the way, you’ll double in power and influence.”

  “And you will too,” he said, glaring at me. “You know the rules. We don’t kill each other. You young men, you think you know better than we do, but you’re wrong, Kaspar. As soon as we start cutting each other’s throats, we’re done for. We’ll be no better than the crime families themselves. Just look at Darren and Roman. Do you think their bitter war’s done anything to advance their causes?”

  “I think it made them hard. Roman flew too close to the sun and was pushed back down, but at least he was ambitious. Darren might never have made any moves at all if it weren’t for Roman breathing down his neck. Their feud hurt them, but it also sharpened their wit and made them bold.” I took a deep breath and leaned closer to Old Bern, the wrinkled dog, the blood-sucking old man. “That’s what we need now. The Oligarchs are stale and weak, and I plan on making us strong again.”

  Old Bern didn’t move. He sat rigid, anger etched all over his posture. We’d been friendly for a long time, and I was sure he never expected talk like this from me. It was a betrayal.

  The first of many to come.

  “You know better than that, Kaspar. The rules were put in place for a reason, and if we begin—”

  “You and your stupid damn rules,” Redmond cut in, looking at his fingernails like he was bored of the conversation. “They were all made before I was even born. Hell, they were made before you were born! And yet you cling to them like a life raft.”

  “They keep us safe, boy,” Old Bern snapped at his son. “Mind your tongue. You’re not the Oligarch at this table, and you won’t forget it.”

  “No, I’m not, but perhaps I should be.” Redmond’s eyes glittered.

  I wanted to curse and punch him in the face.

  Old Bern was a seasoned veteran of the Oligarchs. He’d been through more than any of us could imagine, from his days as a young man taking over for his father before he was even twenty, all the way through multiple disputes and skirmishes and crises, up until today. He knew the game better than anyone else. The old bastard was a survivor.

  And he saw the truth in his son’s eyes.

  “What did you do?” Old Bern asked softly, almost sadly.

  “I didn’t do a damn thing, Father. The world’s doing it for me. Kaspar’s right, we need a change, and going after Maeve can be that change.”

  Old Bern looked pained. He turned to me, almost pleading. “Rethink this. You won’t survive long in a world ripped to shreds. If you throw away decency, there will be nothing left.”

  Redmond looked panicked, bewildered. He hadn’t realized he’d tipped the game.

  But it didn’t matter. I heard footsteps in the distance. Angry voices, more shouts.

  “I’m sorry, Bernhard,” I said and really meant it. Of all the Oligarchs, I truly liked him the best. I didn’t agree with him most of the time, but at least he was stalwart, honest, and strong. He was made of steel, where his son was made of wood.

  But I could bend wood. I could break it.

  “You always were the craziest. When you took over for your father, I wondered if you’d be the downfall of us all, but you proved yourself over and over again. Now I wonder if I was wrong.”

  Gunshots, loud and echoing in the cramped space. Penny let out a muffled scream. Shouts of pain followed, then angry cries of rage. More gunshots, closer. My men looked confused and turned to me for directions.

  I waved at them. “Stand down.”

  None of them moved.

  Redmond looked victorious. He sneered at his father, the nasty little prick.

  For his part, and to his credit, Old Bern sat with his chin up and his eyes steady. He didn’t cry and didn’t beg. He didn’t try to make a deal. He knew that the life of an Oligarch usually ended in blood.
He sat atop the pyramid for longer than most, but sooner or later, everyone falls.

  “You should’ve listened to me, Daddy,” Redmond said, acid dripping from his tongue. “You should’ve given me more responsibility. You should’ve treated me with respect.”

  “Respect is earned, you pathetic little shit.” Old Bern’s facade cracked for only a moment. Rage leaked out from his eyes. “I only hope you don’t fuck up the Orchard dynasty. Remember, it’s more important than you. Worse men have stewarded the family. Don’t shame them all.”

  Redmond leaned back, at a total loss for words, as the doors burst open.

  My Sicilian friends stepped inside.

  I stood and nodded to them. “Gentlemen. Welcome.”

  Santo stepped forward. Blood coated his shirt and shoes.

  “This the one?” He looked down at Old Bern.

  I nodded. “That’s the one.”

  He aimed the gun at Old Bern’s head.

  Old Bern looked back at me. “Loophole, eh? Use an unaffiliated family to do your dirty work? Better hope nobody talks.”

  “They won’t.”

  He looked at his son. “Don’t disappoint me.”

  “Fuck off,” Redmond said, backing away.

  “Santo, do it.”

  Santo pulled the trigger and blew Old Bern’s skull to pieces. The ancient Oligarch crumbled to the ground, and with him the old ways died.

  I wondered if they’d be gone forever now.

  Not that I gave a flying fuck.

  “Well, that was fun,” Santo said, grinning.

  “Did you finish off his men?”

  “Yes, sir, I did.” He turned to stare at Redmond. “Should I do this one too? Might as well make it a clean sweep.”

  I hesitated before I answered. Redmond’s terror was palpable. He looked at me, shaking his head.

  “We had a deal, Kaspar.”

  I grinned at him. “That we did. It’s okay, Santo. Leave him alone.”

  “Whatever you say.” Santo shrugged and stepped back out into the hall, shouting at his soldiers in Italian.

  I looked down at the body of Old Bern and wished it didn’t have to be like this.

  But life was never easy.

 

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