Brutal & Raw: Mafia Romance & Psychological Thriller (Beneventi Family Book 1)

by Sonya Jesus

At exactly ten thirty, Stone waltzes into the office without knocking and stops dead in his tracks. “What the fuck happened here?” he shouts, as he moves toward the leather couch.

  “I was watching Costa’s old porn…and I accidentally lit the couch on fire,” I say. My eyes are bloodshot and my whisky-doused coffee is doing little to help the fact. I’ve been going through all the properties Costa owned and his invoices, making a list and trying to draw correlations as to which of them contained the safes. I had the distinct impression he had spread his safes through each of those places. There were four, at least.

  “What do you mean accidentally. And let’s not ever mention the other part.” He shakes his head and the disgust travels along his spine. “Ever again.”

  “I fell asleep smoking the habano,” I say carelessly. “Did you get me the information I need?”

  “Did you hurt yourself?” The genuine concern in his voice alerts me.

  Unknowing what to do with it, I stare at him with an arched brow and lean back on my chair, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Obviously not.”

  He smirks and runs his finger over the ash-filled sofa and glances up at the fixtures in the ceiling. “I didn’t get a report that the smoke alarms went off.” He assesses the room.

  “Romolo took care of it. The other guys don’t usually lurk outside my office.”

  “You sent them away?”

  “I hate when they do that.” They are at the station, or doing rounds of the perimeter.

  “Last time they weren’t inside, you shot one.”

  “That was your fault. Do your job better.”

  He bows his head and sighs deeply before giving me his full attention. “What job is that exactly? I got a call this morning, telling me the guys aren’t coming to work because they haven’t gotten paid.”

  “They just signed their death certificates.” No point in getting angry over dead men.

  “You can’t keep killing people off because you don’t have control of your house.”

  “I’m spring-cleaning the house,” I joke to deflect. As annoying as it is, my brother has a point.

  “No, you’re having a fucking garage sale and putting your men up to the highest bidder! No one’s going to be left, Breaker. You can’t put a help-wanted ad in the papers calling for demented pyschos.”

  “Those are reserved for The Farm, and last I remember, I paid them this month.”

  “It’s May.”

  Shit. “I’ll go to the bank.”

  “To the bank?” Stone takes a seat in front of me. “Is that some code?”

  “I wish it were.” I explain how I have no idea where Costa hid the safes.

  “Well, shit.” He runs his hand through his hair and glances at the ceiling. “You can count me in to help you look, but you need to get your house in order.”

  The words our house flutter to my throat, but I swallow them.

  “You don’t have an underboss, or a consigliere. Who are your capos? Your ranks aren’t even established yet, your men are unpaid, and we are running around this city, exposing ourselves to the whole world and killing unmades, just because you’re looking for some chick.”

  Hmm. Things didn’t go so well with Mrs. Pimento?

  “Family hierarchy won’t matter if this chick runs to the police and gives us up. Or to The Commission.”

  “You can’t keep being the whole family, Breaker. Even Dad had you and Fabrizio, and when Fabrizio was gone, he always had someone, like Berto Cabrali, and Franco.”

  “Yes, and Dad messed the fuck up.”

  “You need people in your circle.”

  “You are my circle.” I forced them into my circle exactly for this reason: I knew with Costa gone, I needed time to fill positions, especially since I had to get rid of some more talkative and loyal Costa fans who didn’t believe Costa would ask to be euthanized. I glance down at the papers and hate the man just a little bit more. His ‘sudden’ disease had been around for over six years and the asshole was still strong until the day I killed him. No wonder they didn’t believe me, which means other people suspect. “Kelsie is my circle, Rom, Franco…”

  “Romolo?” he sneers.

  Flicking my gaze up to him, I could hear the click of Stone’s jaw from here. “Yes, Romolo.”

  “He’s been here for, like, two days!” His sarcastic tone gets under my skin.

  “And just in the last two weeks, he’s done more than any of you and without giving me lip. We should’ve promoted him earlier.”

  “Are you serious?” he asks, as I busy myself with stacking the papers on my desk. “Kelsie and I have been running around the country for you.”

  He’s right, but the tightness in my chest is hard to ignore. Anxiety is not something I’m familiar with. Taking on everything—being the Don, the Sotto, and the Consigliere and trying to do everything—is getting to me. “I need to close ranks.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

  “Will you be my second?”

  Stone’s face looks like I just punched him in the teeth. He maintains steady eye contact but crosses his legs and holds his palms parallel to the floor as he works through the idea in his head. “Breaker, I’m honored you would want me as your second—”

  “I don’t,” I remind him before it gets to his head. “You’re my only option.”

  “What about Franco?”

  We both let his comment bounce around in his head and shake our heads.

  “He’s unstable and already has too much power. Plus, he’s been the capo of The Farm operation for years. It entertains him, so let’s leave him to what he’s good at.”

  “Scar is the same.”

  Prior to my ‘movie night’ last night, I would’ve said Scar was the better choice. He got those scars on his torso and face from stopping Franco a couple of times. But he might not survive much longer, so I don’t even bother with acknowledging the notion.

  “Kelsie…”

  Even with all the shit between us, and even if Kelsie would agree…a woman as a Sottocapo? It’s a crazy idea. “Choosing a woman to be a second is risky, Stone. It may not be well received in our world.”

  “It’s innovative.” Stone holds a finger in the air. “Mafia evolution…” The wide-ass grin on his face is going to get him punched.

  “Don’t use my words against me.”

  “It’s also a way to keep you off the Fed’s radar. Women aren’t normally up on their whiteboards of fame when it comes to the underworld. Well, at least not in the criminal world.”

  “And what about respect amongst ranks?”

  “Franco practically licks the air around her, and she’s not even official.”

  “Franco is the exception. He’s infatuated because she can rip his balls off and make him suck his own dick, but don’t think he wouldn’t kill her.” Ever since she got her soul back, Stone has been fiercely protective of Kelsie. And me. I should have a T-shirt made that says, ‘Every time a stone rings, a killer gets her wings.’

  “Everyone else is scared shitless of her.”

  “She’s just a girl who had revenge on the brain. Now, she’s in love and softer than the dog she totes around.”

  “Shit, I’m scared of her.” He smirks, easing the air a little bit. “Every time she hangs out with Hayden, I’m afraid he’s going to look at some chick the wrong way, and I’m going to get a cleanup call.”

  “That’s not completely off the table.” Costa tried to teach her the same no-emotion technique he taught me, but I think part of the efficacy is having it beat into you. Also, it doesn’t really work when you’re driven by revenge. Emotional killers are subject to their emotions. Now that she has her revenge, she’s not exactly hit man material, which may actually make her a good second.

  “Right?” he jokes before pitching a serious tone. “But she’s better than me, Breaker. I suck at all of this.”

  That’s true. “She wants to leave after the year is up.”

  “Maybe y
ou should give her a reason to stay.”

  “Like killing Hayden?” I joke.

  Stone narrows his eyes at me and squares his shoulders.

  “I’m kidding,” I throw out into the air, but he doesn’t buy it. “Okay,” I quip to get him off my back. “What if I brought Hayden into our world?” Before he can answer or react, I hold my hand up and pose my case, “He’s unprotected. Leaving him without you or Kelsie for a period of time makes him a target.”

  Stone tilts his head and rounds his shoulder.

  The idea isn’t ill-received, so I keep going, “We can bring him here, to the mansion, and he can be with Kelsie. This way when you’re gone, maybe Kelsie will stick around.”

  “Bringing him here makes him your target, Breaker, not anyone else’s. I don’t trust having him here, where you can put a gun to his head and blow his brains out into the freezer.”

  Touché. I think he’s still bitter about his ice cream. “Then stick around.”

  His squinty eyes shut as he pinches of the bridge of his nose. “Breaker,” he growls out, a bit through his nose like an enraged bull.

  “You can go to law school. I won’t stop you.” Because it makes him an even better consigliere. “But choose a school nearby. Commute from the mansion or get a place in the city—stay within a one-hour radius—you can be your own person, with your own job, and your own world that sometimes clashes with mine. Plus, you can have the best job ever,” I taunt him. Part of being a boss is using weakness to your benefit. “You can keep me and Kelsie in check.”

  He scoffs and throws his head back. “I’ve been doing that for a long time.”

  “So now do it officially.” He sets me up perfectly. “You’re still going to be doing it, unless you never want to talk to me or Kelsie again, so why not do it and have a say in how things are run? This place is just as much mine as it is yours.”

  “Be your number three?” he asks.

  Stone and Kelsie are family. As much as we hate to admit it, killing each other is something we reserve for extreme-case scenarios. I’d rather have the people, who can be used against me, close to me. “If you and Kelsie leave a year from now, after I set you up as my second and third, it will look like I can’t control my own house.”

  “You can’t.”

  I tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to adjust his statement.

  After about thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence, he corrects himself, “You can’t as long as you keep doing everything yourself.” He sighs exaggeratingly and rubs his face with his palms. “Fine, Breaker. Let’s say, Kelsie is your second and I’m your third, you still have positions to fill and Hayden.”

  Romolo is the first to pop into my head, but I say, “Franco is my capo at The Farm.”

  “Does he know he’s not getting upgraded?”

  “I’ve given him no reason to believe otherwise.” Even though he acts like he’s the boss sometimes.

  “And Magdalena?”

  “Magdalena has no say in my family politics. She’s here for business.”

  “She’s here for more than that.” His head bows to my junk, and I shake my head at his stupidity. “I still don’t know what the deal is with her.”

  “It’s business.” Merging the families is something I’m still not sold on, but I agree marrying into the Cabralis does have its perks. Two major families may sway the power of The Commission in my direction, and I can be the boss of bosses. Costa’s dream, but one I share with him. “And something for my consigliere to broach, not my brother.”

  He growls. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to be your fucking priest. I’ll talk to Kelsie, but I’m not sure what Hayden can do to help you.”

  “He can be in charge of the finances.” I can test him and see if he’s still working with the police somehow.

  “Bringing him in might be more controversial than Kelsie. Kelsie’s your sister, Hayden’s the son of a cop who was investigating the family.”

  “No one knows that, not even Franco.” Only 327 knows that.

  “You didn’t confide in him?” Stone asks, perplexed. “Or Romolo?”

  “I’m not a fucking girl who needs to spill and talk about feelings.” I raise a brow and smirk. “I’m not you. You’re more of a girl than Kelsie.”

  “I’ve been with more girls than either of you have,” he says and leans back. “I guess that makes me an expert.”

  It’s probably true, so I don’t rebut. “I’d rather have my balls, than have them wrapped around someone’s finger.” Sex is also something Costa told me to control. It’s an outlet, not a fucking way of life. Nothing wrong with unloading your train, but it doesn’t have to make a pit stop at every station.

  “I kind of like it when they wrap their fingers—”

  “Anyway,” I stretch out the word until it shuts him up. “What about Porky’s wife? Did you lose the balls to do what you said you would?”

  Stone reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. Waving it in the air, he very proudly announces, “Three thousand dollars, and she gave me the name of the hospital. She doesn’t think she’s still there though.”

  He left a witness who can identify him. It shows his inexperience and his obliviousness to the world. I step toward him and snatch the paper from his fingers, before going to the window to read the scribbled note and sip my liquid breakfast, which is no longer warm. “This is near The Farm. Franco should’ve sent someone to check it out.”

  “They were looking for Lyla Vaughn, remember?” He gets up and grabs himself some morning booze. “Maybe she gave her real name at the hospital?”

  Or another fake one. “Call Kelsie. Tell her to meet us at Oberon Memorial.” I open the door and shout for Romolo.

  “She’s with Hayden. They were looking at apartments today. He needs to move out of the frat house by the fall.”

  It still annoys me they don’t call him by his real name, Jason Denhay West, but whatever. “Tell her to reschedule or bring him over. I think I know exactly what he can start doing for me.”

  “And that is?”

  “He can start by trying to unlock the files his father left. If he does, then he can be my financial advisor.”

  “If he can’t?”

  “Then he’s not exactly useful, is he?”

  Stone shakes his head and points his glass at me. “Things like that are going to get you shot by your sister.”

  Luckily, Romolo hasn’t graced us with his presence yet and didn’t hear that tidbit.

  “Why don’t you call her?”

  “I accidentally broke my phone,” I joke, feeling a bit more light-hearted now that I have a grasp on my business and my loose cannon. The police could still be watching us though, but I highly doubt it. Wherever 327 is, she’s hiding from me.

  But I’m going to find you, 327.

  “You don’t accidentally do anything, Breaker.”

  In a second, I’m going to make him shove those air quotes up his ass. I turn my back on him and stare out the window, toward the grill. “We need to find out exactly what happened when 327 was at the hospital, and where she went.”

  “They don’t keep detailed information on being discharged, Breaker.”

  “No, but someone will remember seeing her. Doctors, nurses, receptionists, other sick people.” I turn back around to face my brother, who is staring at me like he’s afraid of where my head was going.

  He should be afraid.

  “Go with Kelsie and get me everything you can.”

  “I found her,” Kelsie shouts five hours later. “She’s at Addison’s Refuge. It’s about four or five hours from here, in Upstate New York. Near Lake Ontario.”

  “How the fuck did she get all the way up there?” I ask, pulling the tray from the oven. Romolo made baked ziti before he left. I can’t remember the last time I ate.

  Stone grabs three plates from the cabinet and places them on the island counter. I drop the hot pot next to them and grab some forks, while Stone sets
the table. Before we know it, we are having a family dinner and discussing how Kelsie made Stone hit her. They played out a whole skit at the hospital.

  As proud of them as I am, I’m slightly uncomfortable. It had been a very long time since all three of us sat this close sharing a meal, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.

  Things are a bit different now. When Kelsie first came to live with us, I saw her as nothing more than a nuisance. She was a reminder of the man I killed—the man I made my bones with. I swore Costa brought her home to teach me a lesson on remorse. Seeing her every day, and living with the reminder of killing her father, lessened the guilt, which disappeared with time.

  Her transition into Beneventi’s hit woman wasn’t instant, but as much as I hated the constant reminder, having her around the house eased Costa’s attention on me. He had someone new to train, or rather, another new person to manipulate. Turns out his perfect adopted daughter was just another person he planned on killing.

  Kelsie is like me now. Both betrayed by the man we idolized, which makes her a bit easier to understand. Actually, I respect her in a way I don’t respect anyone else in my life, not even Stone. She became the person her father didn’t want her to be in order to get revenge on the people who hurt him. That took balls. Some of the shit Costa made her do, even had me second-guessing his methods, but she fucked that dirty politician to death, took out the handler, and murdered two associates around the holidays without batting an eye.

  Which really pissed me off. The unsanctioned caccia he sent her on put her on The Commission’s list, and it took me lots of favors, lots of money, and a wedding proposal to secure her safety.

  “Kelsie?” Stone holds the bottle of wine up in the air. “Want some?”

  “Sure.” Kelsie holds the glass in her hand. “Didn’t you say you had a meeting tonight?” Kelsie checks the time on the wall and blurts out, “You missed it.”

  Stone flicks his eyes toward me and shakes his head. “It’s just voting for a new president. Graduation is coming soon, so I’ll be gone.” He smashes his lips together. “Hayden doesn’t want to be president anymore.” He looks directly at me. We are sitting side by side with Kelsie in the middle, so now both of them are looking at me.