Mafia Casanova

by Robinson, M.

  She stiffened. “Still that bad?”

  “You have no fucking clue.”

  “Language.”

  I sighed. “Sorry.”

  She reached for my hand and squeezed. “I’ll light a candle for you. One day it won’t hurt so much; one day, you’ll find love just like Tristian.”

  “No, thank you.” My smile was sad, my heart heavy. “I don’t think I want that kind of love, Ma. I wouldn’t survive it twice; I barely survived it once.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy.” I tried to sound convincing. “Now, stop looking like you’re ready to cry. You know I can’t see you cry. Please.” I kissed her hand. “I’m going to go grab a drink.”

  She smiled. “Good idea.”

  I maneuvered farther into the living room where the table of treats was set up. There was enough food to feed an army and enough candy to put anyone in a sugar coma, which explained all the screaming kids running up and down the stairs with plastic swords.

  Walking over to the bar in the corner, I poured two fingers of whiskey into a glass.

  “Cake pop?” Came a voice behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder.

  One of the caterers was standing there with a seductive grin on her face, holding out a blue cake pop. Her black skirt was short and tight, just how I liked them, easy access, and all that.

  Her heels said fuck me please, just like her knowing expression, and her blond hair was drawn back into a ponytail I’d probably pull in the next five minutes while she screamed my name.

  “If I eat your cake pop, does that mean you suck on mine?” I threw back the entire contents of my glass and waited.

  Women.

  They always hesitated, not because they wanted to. Hell no. They hesitated because they had to look like they weren’t after sex. Why did it matter?

  Such a shame.

  Such a fucking double standard.

  She stood up on her tiptoes and leaned in. “Do you think it will fit?”

  “Only one way to find out.” I ran a finger down the side of her cheek then down her arm until I clutched her hand and started pulling her toward the nearest bathroom.

  This was what I needed.

  A distraction.

  Sex.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “You underestimate the power of the dark side.” —Darth Vader

  Romeo

  Anything to get rid of this sick feeling in my stomach, in my soul, in the core of every fiber of my being, this hunger that never dissipated no matter how many women I fucked.

  She let out a throaty laugh when I shut the bathroom door then slammed my mouth against hers. Instantly, her hands were in my hair. Women loved the hair. Between that and my mouth, I could easily get an orgasm or two out of her before she took my cock.

  Without breaking our kiss, I lifted her by the ass and set her on the counter next to the sink, wrapping those long legs around my waist, her heels hooked around one another as she tugged me closer.

  “Eager?” I teased.

  “Very,” she panted, sliding her hands inside my jacket, shrugging it off me as I inched her skirt up past her hips.

  I started kissing her again, tasting wine on her lips, when the door was shoved open.

  “Hey!” The caterer, did she even tell me her name? “The bathroom’s busy.”

  “Clearly.” Came Eden’s pretty voice. “But this is an emer—”

  The sound of puking filled the room.

  “Talk about cock blocking.” I sighed.

  “Shut up, Romeo!” Eden had time to yell at me before the sound of puking happened again and then a moan.

  I pried myself from the caterer in a flash, tugged her skirt down, and went over to Eden, getting on my knees behind her as I gathered her hair and held it tight in my hand.

  “Um, hello? I’m still here?” Needy caterer stomped a heel against the tile floor.

  “Are you? I hadn’t noticed,” I replied dryly. “Leave. Now.”

  “This is bullshit. Do you know who my father—”

  “Gonna stop you right there, sweetheart.” I didn’t even look at her. “No matter who your father is, or how important he is, I’m the one they send after people when they want them dead, so if you want little daddy to keep breathing, you’ll leave this bathroom and forget you ever saw me.”

  A huff sounded along with footsteps and a random. “Cock tease.” The door slammed.

  I returned my attention to Eden as she continued to puke until tears streamed down her face.

  “All better?” I asked when she finally leaned back against me.

  She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  I reached for a towel behind me and wiped her face, careful not to mess up what was left of her makeup.

  She was quiet.

  The anger gone.

  The sadness just as thick, just as tense, just as suffocating.

  “S-sorry.” Eden’s voice cracked. “It’s been a rough pregnancy up until the bitter end.” She rubbed her belly, her smile more scared than sad.

  I let go of her hair with trembling hands, letting it fall across her bare back, placing my palm against her shoulder instead.

  Touching her was like drinking the sweetest poison and not caring in the least about the end result, only the beginning.

  It was a moment of weakness, one I hadn’t had since that night as she leaned against me, using my strength as her own.

  “What do you need?” I asked, gently stroking my fingertips across her skin, letting them believe that she was ours to touch, ours to keep.

  Ignoring the mass disappointment that would take place in the next few minutes when we went back into the respective sides we stood on during the war between our hearts.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’m scared I’m going to be a horrible mom, I’m hungry all the time, and then I puke…” She sniffled and wiped the tears from her face.

  “Eden,” God, saying her name hurt like hell no matter the situation. “You’re going to be a wonderful mom. I’m sure of it.”

  She hung her head. “You have to say that, you’re the uncle.”

  In a moment of pure insanity, I wrapped both my arms around her, resting my chin on the top of her head. “You’re good, Eden, genuinely good. And your ability to love is vast. You’ll be a great mom because you’re great, and he’ll watch your every move, repeat it, try again, and when he fails, you’ll encourage him, you’ll hug him, dry his tears, you’ll tell him he’s brave when he’s scared, you’ll make him laugh, show him what it’s like to stand up for himself. You’ll be a great mom because you’re you. It’s just as simple as that.”

  She sighed. “I hate it when you’re nice.”

  I grimaced. “Me too, makes me sound like a total pussy.”

  Eden burst out laughing. “Being nice doesn’t mean you’re a pussy.”

  “Thanks, I’ll be sure to update my resume. Not a pussy, knows how to hold someone’s hair when they puke, and sometimes nice.”

  “I forget how funny you are when you’re not being a jackass.”

  “That’s offensive. I’m hilarious even when I am being a jackass.”

  It was too easy.

  Settling back into our typical routine.

  The verbal sparring.

  Teasing.

  The tension that always built whenever we were silent and realized how good it would be, how good it was, how broken we left it.

  “Look, Eden—”

  The door to the bathroom flew open; Tristian’s murderous gaze shot to mine with such hatred that it stole my breath away.

  I’d always looked up to my brother.

  Loved him.

  Sacrificed for him.

  The woman still in my arms proved that.

  Eden was the one thing capable of breaking our relationship into tiny pieces of dust or whatever was left of it after their wedding.

  I dropped my arms and very sl
owly moved away from her and stood. Tristian’s chest rose and fell like he’d sprinted toward the bathroom; his eyes flickered from me down to Eden.

  Jealousy.

  Rage.

  Betrayal.

  I saw it all.

  In a blink of an eye, I went from brother to enemy.

  And even though we had done nothing wrong, it didn’t matter to him; it never would. Because I was always a threat, wasn’t I?

  Sometimes, things were better left broken. You could only fix things so many times before it was suddenly impossible to fix what wasn’t yours to begin with.

  “Tristian.” Eden frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  His eyes widened. “I don’t know, you tell me? I heard you were feeling sick and panicked, and then I find you on the bathroom floor in my brother’s fucking arms.”

  She flinched like he’d slapped her.

  I clenched my fists. “Enough, Tristian. I was in here—”

  “With another woman,” Eden finished for me. “Lifting her skirt past her ass and getting ready to plow another field, then I started puking—”

  “Ruining my hard-on,” I pointed out.

  She exhaled heavily. “Yes, that. So he held my hair for me.”

  “Yeah.” Tristian rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what it looked like, with his arms around you, his chin resting on your head, his mouth inches from yours like he was holding your hair.”

  It was a struggle, but Eden finally made it to her feet and stomped over to him. Her hand came flying out of nowhere, landing a blow across his cheek that was so loud it shook the room. “How dare you? I’m carrying your child.”

  She shoved at his chest and then walked out of the bathroom in tears.

  His gaze flew to mine. “You always make her cry.”

  “It’s the one thing I’m good at,” I lied. “But this time, I’m not the reason for her tears. You are, brother.”

  “Bullshit,” Tristian snapped. “You’ll always be the reason for her tears because she can’t have you, and even though she has me, she still fucking wants you!”

  I tensed. “That’s not true.”

  “You’re such a liar.” He looked away. “Sometimes I wish…” He hung his head. “I wish—”

  “What? What do you wish? I’d choose my words wisely if I were you. If you know anything about me.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Does it sound like one?” I asked, keeping my voice calm even though my body was shaking with the need to punch him for making her cry.

  “I’m only going to say this one more time.” Tristian clenched his teeth. “You don’t get to look at her, you don’t get to pine for her, wonder what her kiss tastes like. You don’t get to comfort her. You don’t get to be her friend. You lost her friendship the minute her father gave her away—to me. Having you close only hurts her; it only breaks us. So I wish you’d stay away. I wish you’d just…leave.”

  “You want me gone?” I took a step toward him. “Out of your life? Out of hers? My nephew’s? Is that it?”

  He crossed his arms. “Even you can admit it would be better if you just stayed away like you have been.”

  “So you get the girl, and I lose my brother and my best friend all in one blow? And now you want me to lose my first nephew too?” I shook my head. “That’s your fear speaking, and you know it.”

  “I’m afraid of nothing.” He lifted his chin.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, brother.” I squeezed his shoulder as I walked past. “You’re terrified you’ll never be as good as me. The favorite. To our family. To her. Your wife. She chose you. Married you. Remember that when you’re feeling weak.”

  He gritted his teeth and jerked away from my touch.

  “Stress isn’t good for the baby; I’m going to go out the back. Now go apologize for being a jackass; it’s good practice for the future when you fuck up because trust me, you will, but as long as you love her and take care of her, it doesn’t matter,” I muttered under my breath. “Wish fucking granted.”

  Numb again, I walked out of the bathroom and down the hall, my face impassive as I snuck out the back, made my way to the car, and opened the door.

  Eden was staring out the kitchen sink window when I looked over my shoulder, her eyes sad.

  I gave her a quick nod.

  And I left.

  In that moment, I had no idea that it would be two years before I saw her again.

  Those two years would build a chasm so deep between us, it would forever be impossible to cross.

  I didn’t just give her up to my brother. I had now abandoned her because of him.

  Not only her…

  Him.

  My unborn nephew.

  I walked away that day and didn’t look back; if I did, I would have stayed.

  Fought.

  For not only her.

  Them.

  His family, which should have been mine instead.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Sweet as sugar, hard as ice, hurt me once and I will kill you twice.” —Mr. Villain

  Eden

  Now

  I woke up with a start, eyes swollen, body sore from being so tense the day before. My vision was blurry as I rubbed my eyes then reached for my cell.

  “Shit!” It was already eight, and Naz had Kindergarten at eight thirty.

  I scrambled around the room, all thoughts of Romeo gone as I grabbed a baseball hat, pulled on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, and sprinted into his room. Only to find his bed was empty. Panic struck square in my chest until I heard his usual giggling and talking.

  With a frown, I jogged down the hallway.

  Romeo was in front of the stove, flipping pancakes while Naz clapped.

  What the hell sort of alternate dimension did I just wake up in?

  My heart squeezed in my chest.

  Did Romeo know?

  Did he know that Tristian used to make breakfast for Naz? It was boy time or, as Naz always said, boy day.

  Then again, every day was boy day to Naz.

  He clapped. “Higher, Uncle Romeo! Higher!”

  “Okay, one more time, just don’t tell your mom if it gets stuck to the ceiling.”

  “Pinky promise.” Naz held out his hand.

  Romeo reached across the bar, hooked his pinky in Naz’s, and then tossed the pancake a few feet into the air before catching it with a plate.

  I watched in wonder as he handed Naz the plate and layered a lake of syrup all over.

  “You just gonna stand there or come eat?” Romeo announced, without turning.

  How did he know?

  I shuffled toward them. Romeo was in last night’s clothes still; his hair a bit mussed, which just added to his ridiculous sex appeal while he poured a glass of orange juice for Naz then handed me a hot cup of coffee.

  “What’s this?” I asked, peering into it.

  “Coffee.” His voice was casual. “I figured you could use it this morning before your massage.”

  My head shot up. “Massage?”

  He checked his Rolex. “Yup, they’re expecting you at nine.”

  “Nine,” I repeated. “But I have to take Naz to school; I have zero makeup on, I—”

  He turned around and shoved a pancake in my mouth like a complete asshole. “I’ll take him to school. You don’t need makeup. You’re perfect just the way you are. Now drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

  I took the pancake from my mouth, refusing to let him know how delicious it actually tasted, and lifted the coffee to my lips, taking one small sip. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy? And who’s this cheerful in the morning?”

  The corner of Romeo’s mouth tilted up in a smug smile. “Seems to me like you could use a bit of bossiness. Besides, I have to stop at my house and grab some clothes.” He offered a matter-of-fact shrug. “His school’s on the way.”

  “How do you know where his school is exactly?”

  “Oh, I camp outside of it in my van
then offer free candy during recess.” He winked.

  “Very funny,” I groaned.

  “Oh, can you, Uncle Romeo? My friends would think I was so cool if you had a candy van!”

  I jabbed my finger at Naz. “Never repeat to anyone that your uncle has a van with candy and parks at the school.”

  Romeo choked out a laugh, “Ever.”

  “Aw, man.” Naz pouted. “You’re ruining boy day.”

  “Yeah, Eden, you’re ruining boy day,” Romeo agreed.

  I was going to strangle him to death. “Make sure he gets all the way into the school before speeding off and don’t—” I stopped talking and looked him up and down; even in ruffled clothing, he looked like walking talking sex. A wet dream you never want to wake up from. A nightmare you’d welcome any day of the week. “Just be careful at drop off, especially of Maria; she’ll get one good look at you and cyberstalk you until you’re too terrified to say no.”

  “Ah, soccer moms, such easy hunting, it wouldn’t even be fair, Eden, you know that…all those repressed housewives in their expensive SUV’s, cobwebs between their—”

  I clapped a hand over his mouth. “Stop speaking.”

  He grinned against my palm.

  I jerked it away, irritated that my skin was tingling where his lips touched.

  Ignoring how close he was, I turned toward Naz. “Two more bites, then grab your backpack.”

  After a huge yawn and two giant bites shoved into his mouth, Naz hopped off the barstool, grabbed his Lego backpack, then walked up to Romeo and took hold of his hand. “Uncle Romeo, can I bring you in for show and tell today?”

  “Probably not the best idea, little man.” He ruffled his hair.

  “But, you can show your gun!”

  My eyes went wide. “There’s a no weapon policy at your school, Naz, and remember, we don’t tell our friends or teachers what Mommy and Daddy—” I stopped myself as loss swept through me. “—what your family does.”

  “Oh.” Naz frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. “But it’s so cool. I mean, Uncle Romeo cleans money!”

  I nearly spit out my coffee while Romeo’s grin stretched across his face. “That’s because money’s dirty, and I like things to be clean.”