Impossible Odds: A Mafia Romance (The Five Families Book 4)

by Jill Ramsower

  What he told me gave me a whole new perspective on the dynamic between the two men. It also made me realize how much more Primo had been dealing with in the past week than I’d realized. He’d learned that the man who helped raise him had been responsible for his parents’ deaths. Hell, he’d only just learned who his biological father was, and I’d been frustrated about him keeping me at a distance. Even on the best day, that would have been hard to process.

  My insides twisted to think of how much turmoil he had to be in. I felt horrible he’d had to learn what Naz did but also incredibly grateful that he’d shared it with me. Knowing now what he’d been dealing with strengthened my respect and admiration for him.

  On the other hand, what I’d learned about Naz was revolting. He was a sociopath—what other way was there to describe a man who would kill his son’s girlfriend to keep his son all to himself? Primo may not technically have been Naz’s son, but close enough.

  It was madness.

  “He’s crazy. You know that, right?”

  My head rose and fell as he took in a deep breath. “I suppose to some extent I knew, but I never realized how bad it was.” He sounded weary, and I could only imagine the terrible burden of his situation. I didn’t want to add more discomfort to our already delicate conversation, but there was something I still needed to address. We’d taken our blossoming relationship to a new, more intimate level, and that meant there was no excuse not to confront him with the accusations my family had presented. “I have something I need to ask you. It scares me to know the truth, but it’s too important to ignore. I know my family is involved in all kinds of illegal activities, but they claimed the cartels are far worse. That you guys participate in sex trafficking and bombing civilians and all kinds of terrible things. Is that true?”

  “Not long after my mother died, I was almost picked up by some men who stole children and women off the streets. They nearly had me in their van when another man confronted them and saved me. I was absolutely terrified. I’d come a breath away from untold terrors, and the memory of that helplessness and crippling fear never left me. As I got older and grew to take on more responsibilities with Naz, I learned about the more unsavory aspects to his businesses. I was always more of an enforcer than a business partner, but I still knew more than most. Excluding myself from participation in his trafficking practices was one of the only ways I have every refused Naz anything. He wasn’t pleased, but I have remained firm in my stance. I can’t tell you that the cartel doesn’t involve itself in that kind of activity, because it would be a lie, but I can assure you that I’ve never approved. There are some lines that should never be crossed, and that is one of them.” The harsh finality of his words spoke to his conviction.

  His participation in an organization that trafficked innocent people wasn’t ideal, but I believed in his distaste for the practice and sensed his remorse for allowing himself to remain aligned with Naz for so long.

  “Naz doesn’t have a conscience at all, does he?” I couldn’t imagine how someone could do that to other human beings.

  “He sees life in a much more animalistic fashion. Kill or be killed. So no, he doesn’t feel bad when he profits from the destruction of others.”

  “Is his brother as bad as he is? Maybe he could help?”

  “Juan Carlos has hated me since the day Naz brought me home. There’s no way he’d help me stand against Naz.”

  “Did he know who your parents were? Is that why he hated you?”

  “Surprisingly, no, he didn’t know. I think just the fact that I was an outsider at all rubbed him the wrong way. He wanted the money and power to stay in the family.”

  “If neither of you knew, how did you figure it out?”

  “I was at his house and happened to see a broken figurine I recognized. As it turned out, Juan Carlos led the siege that killed everyone in the house—the fire had only been a coverup and a statement to all other potential rivals. Juan Carlos took the figurine as a souvenir of their accomplishment, but he had no idea it was my mothers. I knew immediately because it had been representative of a treasured memory for my mother and me.”

  “Are you glad you know the truth?”

  He couldn’t undo the past, so knowing who was responsible didn’t change what happened. It only complicated his life, and I would understand if he wished the truth had remained hidden.

  “I’m glad I know. It’s helped me see my situation more clearly. To see Naz more clearly. I wish I hadn’t left the figurine back at Juan Carlos’s house, but that’s my only regret about learning the truth. The Lady of Guadalupe is the only piece of my mother that still exists.”

  “Could you ask him for it?”

  “Now that he knows what it means to me, he’d never let me have it. He’d rather burn it that give me the satisfaction. It’s not the end of the world. I have my memories of her, and that’s always been enough.”

  I smiled, glad he at least had a mother who had loved him. “Tell me about her. I’d love to hear more.”

  His chest vibrated with a deep rumble. “She loved to play games—cards or checkers or bingo—anything we could find. If it wasn’t a school night, she’d let me stay up late so that we could play games for hours. She made the best empanadas I’ve ever had, and she used to sing all the time when she did chores. Even when she was working, she was always singing.”

  “She sounds lovely,” I whispered, a ball of emotion clogging my throat.

  He lifted up on an elbow and peered down at me. “Why do you sound like you’re crying?”

  “I just wish you could have had more time with her. No child should have to lose their mother.”

  “I’m glad I had her as long as I did—long enough to remember. Had she died a few years earlier, I might have been too young to have any memories of her at all.” He rolled me onto my back, and his eyes grew hooded. “Enough talk about things we can’t change. I want to see that beautiful smile again, and I know just how to find it.”

  He kissed his way down my body, then licked and sucked at my core until I thought I’d pass out with pleasure. He may not have found my smile, but he did bring tears of pure bliss to my eyes.

  It was only fair I returned the favor.

  We fell asleep that night wrapped in one another’s arms, our fates more entwined than ever, and my heart dangerously close to being irreconcilably his.

  ***

  The next morning, Primo explained that our time together had to be limited to our nights in his bedroom. He didn’t want to give Naz reason to lash out while he figured out our next move. If any of the staff or guards told Naz we were seen in any kind of intimate expression, it might force his hand.

  I wasn’t thrilled, but at least we had our nights together. The weekend passed quickly. After my scare on Friday, I was more than happy to have a boring, uneventful couple of days.

  Monday resumed the routine we’d begun the week before. I did yoga in the gym while Primo finished his workout, then he left for work, and I kept Alma company while she buzzed about the kitchen.

  “What’s on the menu today?” I asked cheerily.

  “Good morning, mija. I’m making tamales today. They take a while to prepare, so I wanted to get an early start.”

  “I’m not a huge fan.” I wrinkled my nose. “The one time I had some, they were awfully pasty.”

  She waved a maize-soaked hand at me. “This is my sister’s recipe, and she makes the best tamales, not that I’d ever admit that to her.”

  I smirked, all too familiar with the joy of having sisters. “Are you two close?”

  “We were when we were younger, but it’s been hard to stay in touch as we’ve gotten older. Luz is my younger sister, and I have two older sisters along with four brothers.”

  “Good Lord, that’s a lot of kids.”

  Alma chuckled. “It seems normal to me.”

  “I have two sisters, and we fought enough to make my parents crazy. Having eight kids in a house sounds like a nightmare. At le
ast the boys wouldn’t be constantly at each other’s throats.”

  “Oh, they were a handful in their own way. One time, two of them got into such an intense wrestling match they rolled themselves out the front window of the house. I thought my father was going to kill them.”

  “Yeah, none of this is making me want to ever have kids.”

  “Ah,” she scoffed at me. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do. I’ve never really felt that maternal instinct. Just not my thing.”

  “You’re young. Who knows what the next few years will bring. You might find you feel differently.” She smiled warmly at me, and I returned the gesture, but it felt empty.

  I truly didn’t think I’d ever want kids. It never seemed like a big deal to me before, but I suddenly felt anxious. Would Primo want children? If he did, was that something I could give him?

  Good grief, I’m getting carried away.

  “All right, Alma. I think I better go get cleaned up.” I clapped my hands against the granite counter and slid from my chair.

  “Hold off,” Santino said from behind me. “I just got word that Naz is here.”

  “But Primo’s not here.”

  “He’s here to see you.”

  My eyes stayed locked on his as a chill skittered down my spine, and my legs suddenly became molten lead welded to the floor. I had faith that Primo would keep me safe from Naz, but he couldn’t do that if he wasn’t around. Why would Naz come to see me? Would Santino protect me, or was his loyalty to Naz?

  I finally dropped my gaze and nodded shakily. “I’ll be in the living room.”

  Breathe, Giada. You’re a badass mafia princess, remember? This guy can’t scare you.

  I gave myself a mildly effective pep talk, then sat stiffly in an armchair. There was no greater way to stretch out time than waiting for evil incarnate to pay you a visit. My heart took the opportunity to climb its way into my throat, and my palms were so clammy I could have passed for dead. But I gave myself credit because when Naz finally walked through that door, I channeled my cousin Maria and made sure I was one hundred percent, grade A badass. No matter how I felt on the inside, he wouldn’t get even the faintest whiff of fear from me.

  “Hello, Naz.” Chin high, shoulders back, bitch face on.

  “I heard what happened last week and wanted to check on you. I’ve told your father you’re being well cared for, and I wanted to make sure I hadn’t misled him.” He gave every appearance of being a caring, fatherly figure. It was more than a little disturbing because he was almost convincing. If I hadn’t known that he was likely the culprit behind my attack, I might have believed his act.

  “Isn’t that kind of you,” I offered, dripping saccharine sweetness. “It was fortunate Santino was there to rescue me.”

  His eyes narrowed, but his smile was unnaturally fixed. “Why don’t you accompany me onto the back porch? We can talk and enjoy the beautiful morning.”

  I nodded and led the way, feeling his oily gaze on my back with each step. We sat at one of the dining tables near the pool, and Alma brought two glasses of water before scurrying away.

  Naz sipped from his glass and gazed out toward the beach. “I’m not sure what your life was like in New York, but I would not hesitate to say it was far different than life is down here.” He paused, fingering the condensation that began to form on his glass. “You think Primo is perhaps like the men you grew up with. That he has feelings for you and wants to make you happy. Primo is far more complicated than you could imagine. He killed a man for the first time when he was only thirteen and has only ever known a life of violence.”

  I wanted to lash out. To scream at Naz that whatever Primo had experienced was a direct result of him poisoning Primo’s life. Vicious, hateful words slithered under my skin, a rattlesnake coiled and ready to strike. But I wouldn’t allow it. I wouldn’t believe his lies, and I wouldn’t screw up any chance Primo had at breaking free from Naz by spewing my frustrations. Instead, I clamped my jaw shut and played the role required of me.

  Naz pulled something from his breast pocket, studying it before placing it on the table and sliding it toward me. It was a photograph. Dark but dotted with specks of light illuminating two people in the middle—Primo pinning a mostly naked woman against what looked like a stripper pole.

  “That was taken Friday from our security cameras in the Hermosillo club. While you were being attacked, Primo was fucking another woman. You mean nothing to him, so don’t pretend to make him into something he’s not.” Icy hatred slipped into his voice, betraying the depth of his emotion on the subject.

  It hurt to see the photo. I recognized the dress shirt Primo had been wearing Friday, and while that didn’t necessarily mean the photo was taken that day, it was enough to cast suspicion.

  I had to hand it to Naz. He was good. His words may not have done the job, but the photo was hard to overcome. That was, except for the fact that he was desperate to scare me away from Primo. If that was the case, and he had cameras in a room where Primo allegedly fucked another woman, why hadn’t he brought me a picture of them in the act?

  Naz may have been a good actor, but I was better.

  I allowed a single tear to slip from my lashes when I slid the photo back to him. I was raised with two sisters in a strict Catholic family; I could summon tears like other people blinked. It had been a necessary life skill to master in our house.

  Naz took the bait as I’d hoped and grinned mournfully at my visible heartbreak. “What you need is another woman to talk to. Haley said you two had a lovely time together Friday before things … took a turn. I’ll send her over after lunch, and you two can have some time together.” He slid the picture back in his pocket and rose from his chair.

  I stayed seated, choosing to use my heartbreak as an excuse not to see him out.

  He clasped a hand on my shoulder in mock support. “It’s best you knew before you made a terrible mistake. Your uncle and father have agreed to our terms, and this entire little episode will be over in just a few days. We’ll have you back home soon, and you can put this whole ugly mess behind you.” He patted me gently and walked away, totally oblivious to the ten different ways I envisioned breaking his hand.

  I hated every minute I spent with him, but if I bought Primo some time, it was worth every nauseating second.

  True to his word, Naz sent Haley over that afternoon. I didn’t let my loathing for him bleed onto her, so I was happy to have her company. She was a tool in Naz’s fucked-up game just as much as I was, at least, I hoped. I couldn’t stomach the notion that she might have knowingly participated in my attempted rape.

  “I’m so glad to see you’re okay. I was horrified when I heard what happened.” Her face was creased in genuine remorse, reinforcing my belief that she was innocent of wrongdoing.

  “It was pretty terrifying. I don’t even want to think about it.” My lips formed a thin line of unease.

  “I can totally understand. Let’s do something fun instead. Interested in a walk on the beach?”

  “That sounds perfect. Let me change out of my yoga gear, and I’ll be right back.” I hurried upstairs and put on fresh leggings and a comfy sweater, along with some sunscreen. The days had gotten progressively cooler since I’d arrived, but the sun still packed a punch.

  When I went back downstairs, I located Santino first and let him know our plans, then found Haley gazing out the window at the beach. “I’m all ready. Do you need any sunscreen or anything?”

  “Oh! Nah, I’ll be fine without. I’m used to the sun.” She slipped her shoes off but kept her purse clutched in her hands. “All ready!”

  I smiled and slid the glass door open, Haley and Santino following me out and down the patio steps toward the sand. Once we started toward the shore, Santino hung back and allowed us our space. The beach was unoccupied except for a few individuals here and there in the distance. We made our way in the stiff ocean breeze to the hard-packed sand just beyond the water’s edge and walke
d for several minutes before I broke the silence.

  “Do you have many friends here in Guaymas? It seems like being the boss’s wife might be a bit lonely—I mean, not to be rude. I was just curious.” Smooth, Genovese. Real smooth.

  Haley smiled, thankfully unbothered by my forwardness. “We have company for dinner on occasion, and I enjoy visiting with one of the housekeeper ladies, but no, it’s not the same as having girlfriends. I never really had a lot of friends, though, so it’s not something I miss.”

  “I’ve always had so many cousins and sisters around me that I never had many outside friends either. Having so many women in my life just gave me a headache anyway,” I teased, not wanting Haley to feel bad. Too many women could be annoying, but being alone would be far worse. With a husband like Nazario, it had to suck balls.

  “Have they told you when you’ll be going back?” she asked quietly, the first acknowledgment I’d heard from Haley that I wasn’t just a long-term houseguest.

  “Soon, I think.” I kept my thoughts on that to myself. I wasn’t sure how much of what I said to her was fed back to her husband. If I told her how much I cared for Primo and that I didn’t want to leave him, Naz could find out. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he interrogated her about our conversation when she returned home.

  “That’s good. I’m sure they—oh!”

  A strong gust of air caught the thin scarf she was wearing and swept it right off her shoulders.

  “I’ve got it!” I cried, leaping after the shimmering blue fabric and snagging it just as it hit the ground several feet away. It was a gossamer fabric more for fashion than warmth and airborne as quickly as a kite. “There we go.” I gently shook off the scarf and presented it to her with a smile.