Mafia Casanova

by Robinson, M.

  I could feel him grinning, knowing he was the cause of the rapid rhythm beating against the palm of his hand. Slowly, he opened the locket with my hands in his, and that warm feeling washed over me. It had the perfect photo of Naz on the left that warmed my heart; his chubby cheeks and cherubic smile were the first things that caught my attention. It wasn’t until I saw the picture on the right that felt like a bucket of freezing cold water poured down my head.

  It was an image of Tristian and me from our rehearsal dinner.

  I shot around and pushed Romeo away with everything inside of me. “You fucking bastard.”

  He scoffed out a chuckle. “I never claimed to be anything else.”

  I had no words. He’d rendered me speechless. All I had were emotions spilling out. The floodgates opened, letting out everything I held in so deeply. Tears began to stream down my face, falling to the ground along with my heart.

  “Why do you always want to hurt me?”

  His hand rose to the side of my cheek.

  I was feeling so much…

  Yet not nearly enough.

  “You know I hate seeing you cry. Don’t waste your tears on me.”

  I didn’t say one word, terrified he would stop his caress, and his control over me would fade.

  I sucked in a breath when he took the locket out of my hands and placed it around my neck.

  “There. Now it’s where it’s meant to be.”

  It was then that I couldn’t take it any longer.

  It was then that it became too much.

  His words were killing me, but his touch was destroying me.

  I simply stated, asking with conviction, “Why do you want me to hate you?”

  Romeo

  “Does it make it easier for you?” Her lower lip trembled. I wanted nothing more than to press my mouth to hers, kiss away the sadness, and claim what wasn’t mine to claim.

  “Nothing about you is easy,” I declared, eyeing her up and down.

  Her eyes widened. “So, what happens now? You leave, and I don’t see you again for another two years? Are you here to say goodbye this time? Or to repeat the past because I swear we’re fucking stuck there.”

  There was so much emotion behind her gaze. I knew they mirrored mine; there was no need for words. Our eyes spoke for themselves as I took her face between my hands and caressed the sides of her cheeks with my thumbs.

  My thoughts.

  My words.

  They all seemed to be fucking intertwined with one another. Pushing and pulling like a game of tug of war that never ended and was impossible to win.

  “If we were stuck there, then you wouldn’t have married my brother.”

  “What do you want from me?” she whispered, peering into my chest. I lifted her chin so I could once again look into her beautiful eyes. The pain in her voice was so tangible like I could reach out and touch it, obliterate it with my bare hands and replace it with something else—anything else.

  “Whatever you have to give me,” I answered simply, wiping away the tears from her cheeks.

  “Tristian is inside, Romeo.”

  “It’s never stopped me before.”

  Her lips started quivering, unable to form words. I kissed her forehead, resisting the urge to claim every last inch of skin. I knew I shouldn’t have been there, but I had to see her. It had been way too fucking long.

  One of my biggest regrets in my life was giving her to my brother.

  “I can’t lose you again,” I stated the truth, hating that I sounded weak as hell.

  “You don’t have me now.” I’d forgotten how adorable she was when she lied.

  “You’re in my arms, so I’ll take you any way I fucking can.”

  A frown pinched her face as she pulled away from me, shaking her head. Breaking our connection. I stepped toward her but was quickly interrupted by a toddler’s voice shouting, “Mama!”

  Both our stares darted in the direction it came from. Two chubby legs came barreling down the path like a drunken sailor. Barreling footsteps followed behind him, Tristian chasing after their son.

  His glare flew from her to me while mine stayed on the little boy by her feet. His arms were extended sky high, begging to be picked up.

  Eden assumed I was gone for half his little life. She didn’t know that there wasn’t a breath he took without me watching over him, like an avenging angel.

  Tristian spewed, “Am I interrupting?”

  Still, I couldn’t get my gaze to move.

  Refocus.

  Connect with my brother, whom I hadn’t seen since he kicked me out of his house.

  His life.

  Theirs.

  Hers.

  My nephew’s.

  With wide eyes, I stepped back, replying, “I was just leaving.” Needing to get the hell out of there before I screamed our blatant truths with her staring right at me.

  Tristian spoke up. “You should go inside, Romeo. Say hello to the family, and then you can find someone to go home with. You know, use women who are at your disposal until you’re bored and throw them away. I think you’ve done enough damage here for the night.”

  I nodded.

  He was right.

  I walked away from her that night, leaving her with my brother.

  And this time, with my nephew.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “The Villain is the person who knows the most but cares the least.” —Chuck Klosterman

  Romeo

  Now

  It was almost comical. A week ago, I was washing blood off my hands.

  This morning I was dropping off a six-year-old who didn’t understand the concept of taking a breath in between words and fighting traffic with multiple minivans and angry moms in head-to-toe high-end yoga garb.

  “…so then I told Jude that his Magnatiles were newer than mine, so they were better, and then I asked Mom for more Magnatiles, and she said I had to earn them, so I cleaned my room but got in trouble for shoving my Lunchable under my bed and forgetting about it, and that’s how I got grounded— Hey, Uncle Romeo, do you think that—”

  I clapped my hand slowly across his mouth as I maneuvered the car into the drop off lane.

  The clever little heathen was still attempting to talk even with my hand in place.

  I removed it.

  “—do you think that it’s fair that Mom—”

  I put my hand back again. “Fascinating,” I chuckled to myself. “Since it’s boy day and I’m a boy, shouldn’t I get to talk?”

  Naz let out a dramatic sigh. “Sure, I guess. Even though you’re a man.”

  “Your mom said to wait until you made it into the school. Do you have your backpack?”

  “Check” He grinned and held up his blue and orange backpack.

  “Lunch?” I put the car in park.

  “Yup!” He shot me another toothy grin.

  “And homework?”

  His face fell. “I hate homework.”

  “Yes, well, we all have our crosses to bear,” I murmured. “Yours is homework, and mine is trying to get out of the drop-off line without any of the single moms trapping me against my will.”

  Naz laughed, “You’re funny, Uncle Romeo. Just drive fast, and they won’t trap you, duh!”

  “Duh,” I repeated. “How had I not thought of that? You’re so smart.”

  “I know.” His sigh said it was a burden to be that smart, and I nearly laughed again but wasn’t sure his fragile ego could handle it.

  “Be good.” I cleared my throat awkwardly. Hell, I was seconds away from patting him on the head. Was I really that bad with kids? My own nephew even? “And um, make…good life choices.”

  Son of a bitch, shoot me now.

  Naz opened the car door then called over his shoulder. “You make good life choices too,” And then, as he hopped out of the car, he yelled, “Have fun cleaning the money!”

  I winced as several horrified parents glanced in my direction.

  “Yup.” I winked. “
Love you, little man.”

  “You too, Uncle Romeo!”

  He skipped past a few women who were currently huddled in a circle sipping Starbucks. Whispers were exchanged amongst them, and then one turned toward me and started power walking.

  “Oh, fuck no.” I waited until Naz was inside the school, quickly pulling out of the drop-off line and hitting the accelerator to get the hell out of there.

  It was a quick drive to the club.

  Debase had been and always would be one of the clubs that stole pieces of your soul each time you visited. The original club was in Chicago, and this one had just opened a few months ago.

  Owned by Andrei Sinacore, it was a front to help rescue as many women from trafficking as physically possible, but Andrei had to look like a monster in order to do so. He couldn’t save everyone, which meant he had to at least keep a few of the women to serve a purpose.

  None of them were tortured, but they were numbered instead of named. Stripping them of their identity. They lived out their days in luxury, but did it matter? When you weren’t actually living but using your body in order to survive? Kept as though they were no more than chattel? He looked the other way, we all did, because we justified the fact that he saved at least ninety percent of them.

  The ten percent he couldn’t save haunted him, it haunted me, and I hated the reminder as I pulled into the parking lot. I was the underboss, so I was just as tainted with the blood as he was. At night I swear I could sometimes hear their screams, their pleas for help.

  And every time, I looked the other way.

  Another reason I had never deserved Eden.

  When a woman asked for help—you answered the call; you didn’t pretend you couldn’t hear her. But that’s what was asked of me, to pretend.

  I pretended with the women.

  And I even pretended with Eden.

  Fuck.

  I was damned to Hell.

  Already in a shit mood, I got out of my car and made my way past security and into the club.

  It was still early, but that didn’t matter, not in a place like this. A few men in suits were scattered around the VIP section, drinking, watching while scantily clad women danced around them, clinging to poles, thrusting their tits out in an effort to get a bigger tip.

  With a sigh, I looked away and went straight to the heart of the club, where I knew Andrei would be waiting. Swear that man had the uncanny ability to guess when I was going to visit; he always had a glass of whiskey ready for me as if he’d been lying in wait. If he wasn’t so young and semi-likable, he’d be a threat.

  Then again, he’d always been a threat to the Five Families. He had the ear of the Russians since he was half, and he controlled one of the oldest Italian families in the world—mafia royalty.

  The rest of us would always be less than, regardless of our bloodlines, regardless of the kills I had under my belt. My cousin would always hold the world in his hands, and he would always suspect that I wanted the same thing, which meant playing nice, so he didn’t think I was going to slit his throat one day and steal his throne.

  The only positive was that he knew I didn’t want that power; I was better in the dungeon killing his enemies, getting my hands dirty to not think about the fact that I’d lost my heart, my fucking soul long ago to a woman who still had trouble looking at me.

  I nodded at Ax, Andrei’s personal guard. “He in?”

  Ax smirked. “When is he not in?”

  “He said something about—”

  “Not here.” Ax jerked open the door to the personal office of the Sinacore boss. It clicked shut behind me, sealing us away from the world.

  The office was massive, with a black leather couch to the right. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases surrounded the room, and a wet bar stood near the mahogany desk Andrei sat at.

  There were no windows.

  No visible exits but one.

  With several cameras trained on me along with a few guns. I couldn’t see them though it didn’t mean they weren’t there.

  “Always a pleasure,” I grumbled under my breath as Andrei leaned back in his chair, his golden blonde hair like a halo crowning his head.

  Long elegant fingertips gripped a glass of whiskey before he slowly slid it toward me. “Sit.”

  I took the whiskey in hand and sat on the black leather chair facing him. “Any news?”

  His grin was a bit too menacing.

  His demeanor a bit too relaxed.

  I narrowed my eyes, examining his hands, his perfect posture while tilting my head. One spot of blood on his otherwise perfect white collar.

  I scoffed out a laugh. “Getting started without me?”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? It’s Monday.”

  I braced myself for what would come next. Either an informant was dead, or they were about to be.

  “Saved the best for last.” Another ominous grin slid over his face, and he grabbed a remote.

  It had a green button.

  And a red.

  The red was obviously bad news.

  The green meant you would die a quick death.

  Naturally, he hit the red, his grin growing as the curtains behind him parted.

  Dangling from the ceiling was a man. He was shirtless. His black pants wet with blood.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Blood slid off of his shoe, hitting the cement in an almost calming succession.

  Was it sick that I got off on that? That I liked the slow calming drip?

  Death was a constant—life’s North Star.

  Death never changed.

  Death, after enough torture, was peaceful.

  I hadn’t had peace in an entire lifetime—I was a monster, wasn’t I? Because I was smiling.

  I needed this like another hit from a lead pipe.

  I needed the consistency.

  Everything else in my life wasn’t.

  And now I was living with the one woman I had to keep my hands off, keep secrets from, protect.

  I was going insane, and she didn’t even know it.

  Sleeping next to her. Hearing the slow cadence of her breathing, knowing that she woke up with tears staining her cheeks. Knowing that my fucking brother was the reason for it and that I would die with his secrets too.

  Fuck I hated him.

  Because of him, I would never have her.

  Because of his lies, he had made sure of that.

  She could never know the truth.

  Ever.

  Andrei yawned and stood, tossing the remote onto his desk, shoving his hands into his pocket like we were in a casual business meeting. “He talked a bit. See if you can get anything else…I need to know who he’s working for. That’s the only thing he won’t tell me.” He checked his watch. “Five minutes, and then you know what to do.”

  The monster appeared then.

  Ready.

  Willing.

  Eager as fuck.

  He took over, and I grabbed one of the knives from the wall of torture tools.

  “On second thought…” I put the knife back and grabbed a club hammer earning a laugh from Andrei in the process. “What?”

  He smirked. “You came to play, didn’t you?”

  “It’s been a shit day,” I answered, looking away.

  “Ah, having no sex does that to a man. Is she…” He continued walking toward the door. “…contained?”

  “Yes,” I rasped. “And she’s safe.”

  “Good, good,” he replied, opening the door. “Keep it that way. No fuck-ups, Romeo.”

  I snapped, “When have I ever fucked up?”

  He froze, looking over his shoulder. “Never. But she’s the one thing you can’t control, no matter how hard you try. She pulls you; she makes you both weak and strong. It could go both ways, Romeo. It could be your death or your salvation. So I’ll remind you again, no fuck-ups, it’s not just your life that hangs in the balance.”

  I nodded. “Understood.”

&n
bsp; “For what it’s worth.” He tilted his head. “She would be good for you.”

  “What?” Shit! Did he know? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “The only time your lies are shit are when they’re about her. And I said what I said, Romeo. She would be good for you, but I wonder…would you be good for her.”

  With that haunting truth, he shut the door and left.

  I gripped the hammer in my hands and kicked the desk. It didn’t help.

  The man moaned.

  I jerked to attention and slowly shrugged out of my suit coat. Unbuttoning my sleeves, I rolled them up to my elbows.

  Hammer in hand again, I grinned up at him. “Having a good day?”

  He moaned something else I couldn’t decipher as I circled him.

  “Who are you loyal to?” I asked.

  “Andrei,” he whispered. “The Sinacore Family.”

  “And yet…” I grazed his back with the head of the hammer. “You’re hanging in his office half dead. Try again.”

  “Let me go.” His body started to convulse.

  “Hmmm, I’ll tell you what. Give me the information I need, and I’ll kill you fast. You’re already dead. If you’re truly loyal to the Sinacore boss, you’ll die honoring him, not whoever paid you the most money.”

  Tears slid out of his swollen eyes; he opened his mouth, maybe to cry. Scream? Beg for mercy?

  “Drozdov.” A trickle of blood slid down his chin, both eyes were swollen to mere slits. His mouth was bloody; he’d most likely had a few teeth pulled, compliments of Andrei. “It’s the Drozdov.”

  I halted. “You’re sure?”

  “They’ll kill me.” He cried harder, his tears mixing in with the blood on his face. “They’ll kill all of you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I whispered. “I’m going to kill you as a kindness, and then I’m going to kill them for thinking they could start their own family and break away from the Petrovs. There’s one Russian family, and it’s not them. Now the only question is do I send you back like this or send them something…to remember you by?”

  He whimpered.

  Without hesitation I slammed the hammer into the back of his skull.

  His head lolled forward.

  I wiped my hands on my pants and reached for the sharpest machete I could find from the wall, then honored my promise.