Mafia Casanova

by Robinson, M.

  By freeing him the only way I could.

  I swung.

  The machete hit his neck, slicing right through. The rest of his body fell to the ground, and blood spewed from his neck, coating the floor.

  I tossed the machete to the ground, hands shaking, before grabbing the remote to lower the contraption that he had been hanging from. I ignored the tremors in my body. It didn’t matter how many times I killed; I was still taking a human life, it affected me.

  A life was a life.

  A person was a person.

  I’d taken this life.

  This soul.

  And many, many more.

  “Sangue del mio sangue, vai con dio,” I murmured in Italian. Blood of my blood, go with God.

  I made the sign of the cross, taking a deep breath in the process.

  “Ax,” I announced into the intercom to Andrei’s bodyguard. “I’m done.”

  The door opened, and I nodded to the dead body. Ax didn’t even flinch.

  I gestured to the dismembered head. “Please send this extravagant gift to the Drozdovs with my condolences.” I angled my head and mused further, “Maybe add in some wine; I‘m feeling generous today.”

  “Understood.” He glanced around the room, shaking his head. “Always so messy…”

  “I can’t help it.” I shrugged. “Did Andrei need anything else?”

  “No, he’s making the rounds.”

  I grabbed my jacket from the chair and got out of there.”

  “Have a nice day.” Ax nodded to me on my way out.

  I didn’t pay anyone any mind, hauling ass to my car. My chest was tight; all I wanted was to go back to the house and shower the sickness from my soul.

  That was the thing about murder.

  I could wash the blood down the drain all I wanted. However, that blood still stained my soul. It never left me. Stealing pieces of me until there would eventually be nothing left.

  If I could have Eden.

  If I allowed myself to have her.

  To finally fucking have her…

  There would be nothing left for me to give her.

  Nothing at all.

  It was gone.

  To hell in a handbasket.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “There are no heroes. No villains. Just people with a different agenda.” —Daredevil

  Eden

  “Did you brush your teeth?” My eyes narrowed as Naz looked everywhere but my face. At least he inherited one thing from me.

  I was a horrible liar.

  I wore my emotions like an armor. I’d always wished that I could lie, manipulate, be the mysterious woman with all her secrets.

  But I wasn’t made like that.

  I remember complaining to my dad about it one day in high school, why couldn’t I be like the other girls? He said it was refreshing that I wore my honesty with pride.

  And yet, where did it get me?

  I was honest with Romeo.

  He’d hurt me, rejected me, pushed me away for women who lied for money and power.

  Deflated, I ruffled Naz’s hair. “Hey buddy, can you answer Mom?”

  “Wellllll…” Naz scrunched up his nose. “It’s too minty.”

  “The toothpaste?”

  He slumped against me, wrapping his arms around my thigh. “It hurts my tongue.”

  “Then brush your teeth faster, and tomorrow we’ll get some bubblegum toothpaste, all right?”

  “Mooommmmmmmm.”

  “If you don’t brush your teeth, you won’t get any screen time. Besides, that’s Uncle Romeo’s favorite toothpaste.”

  “Really?” He piped up. “His favorite favorite?”

  “Yup.”

  With a grin, he shot past me and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him as the sound of the faucet filled the hall.

  “Liar, I hate that toothpaste.” Romeo suddenly appeared.

  I stumbled back and pressed my hand against my chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  “Sorry.” His grin was almost playful, which automatically put me on edge. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you guys. Did you have a good massage?”

  The hall was dark, so I couldn’t make out anything but his dark suit.

  I motioned for him to come back into the kitchen with me.

  Naz chose that moment to zip past us with his iPad in hand. “Hi Uncle Romeo, bye Uncle Romeo, Mama, I get five more minutes and then bed.”

  “Three!” I called back.

  “Two, one!” he yelled, earning a smile from me.

  I rolled my eyes and turned to Romeo, then nearly passed out from the sight of blood.

  It was spread past the collar of his shirt and seeped down the front. His skin looked perfect as usual, but his clothes were a complete and utter mess.

  I stumbled back. “That’s a lot of blood.”

  His easy smile was gone, replaced with a cold look that had me backing up slowly. “Be thankful it’s blood and not lipstick.”

  With a gasp, I covered my mouth, speaking through my shaking fingers. “How dare you!”

  “This blood.” He advanced toward me, his teeth clenched. “Stays with me forever, Eden. I don’t kill because some sick part of me finds joy in torturing good people, people that just…” His eyes flashed. “He was one of our own. So before you start judging me, know that everything I do is to protect you, to protect this family, and if that includes fucking answers out of someone, I’ll do it. That’s my job, the only thing I’m good at, so I’d appreciate it if you got off my dick and showed some gratitude.” He gave me his back and stomped down the hall past Naz’s room.

  He’d just killed someone, so why did I feel like the horrible person? I slowly followed after him.

  Romeo was in the master bathroom. His shirt was already off and tossed on the floor. His ridiculous chest was on full display, tattoos and all.

  Of course, his six-pack had magically morphed into an insane eight-pack that my eyes were drawn to with no say on my part. He clung to the edge of the sink, his biceps flexing.

  I couldn’t look away.

  I should.

  But he was beautiful, and I was in the wrong. I stupidly pointed at the shirt by his feet on the white tile floor and said, “I can probably get the blood out.”

  Gradually, he turned his head, his eyes zeroed in on my mouth before locking on my eyes instead. “Blood and white shirts don’t really mix, Red.”

  Hearing him say my nickname was familiar, comforting. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine a scenario just like this.

  Both of us home after a long day, talking in the bathroom, getting ready for bed.

  I gulped and broke eye contact. “I can at least try.”

  “Don’t,” his voice softened. “It’s not worth you going to all that work when I can just buy a new one. Besides, it’s my fault for not wearing black.”

  My head shot up, and I stared into his face. “Was that a joke?”

  “Maybe.” The corners of his mouth turned up.

  “I don’t like it.” I crossed my arms.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific.” He turned his body, fully facing me. “Are we talking about the blood? The toothpaste? The missing lipstick—”

  “I’d rather it be blood.” My voice trembled. “Does that make me a horrible human being? Am I a monster now that I’ve confessed?” And why couldn’t I stop talking? “The lipstick, it’s…it wipes off easier than blood, and still, I prefer that bloody shirt.” I pointed to the floor. “I’ve never told you. You’ve never asked. It’s always just been this thing that existed in my head, and maybe I’m exhausted, maybe I’m just having a nervous breakdown after all the stress, the funeral. But I hate it. I fucking hate it.”

  He moved slowly like he was afraid if he moved too fast, I’d bolt.

  Which was probably accurate.

  Then again, Romeo knew me well.

  Too well.

  He reached out, his fingertips grazing
my arm as he pulled me further into the bathroom, lifting me onto the countertop. His hands dug into my hips, my legs straddled his body.

  “Wash it off,” he whispered.

  “Wh-what?” Our gazes locked. “The blood?”

  “The lipstick.” He handed me the wet washcloth, droplets of water slid down my wrist. I held it close to his face in confusion.

  “There may not be any on my neck right now, but I still feel it, it’s worse than the blood, you’re right, while I’m trying to seduce, they’re trying to mark, to claim me, and even though I’ve only ever belonged to one person, it feels like theft, every fucking time.”

  Tears welled in my eyes.

  Was this really happening?

  Don’t trust him.

  Don’t.

  Why wasn’t he pushing me away now?

  Was it pity?

  Grief?

  “Here.” He touched the side of his neck, and when I didn’t move, he grabbed my hand and pressed the rag against his skin. “And here.” He moved my hand across the front of his neck, where the skin was clean. “Over here.” He ran the rag down the front of his chest.

  The rag slipped from my fingers, and my palm was now pressed against his naked skin.

  His breath hitched.

  Jaw clenched.

  He moved so close I could feel the heat of him between my thighs; the air was so thick that it was hard to breathe.

  Only feel.

  Him.

  Everywhere.

  All at once.

  His eyes flickered to my mouth again. His hands gripped the counter with so much strength that his fingertips were white. He leaned forward, and every muscle in his body was flexed. Making me lick my lips, ready to meet him halfway despite all the reasons I shouldn’t.

  Very valid reasons.

  He would only break me again, wouldn’t he?

  But how did you break something that was already broken and unfixable? Like a puzzle with too many missing pieces?

  “Eden.” My name fell like a promise from his lips as they slowly grazed mine.

  Until we heard a voice screech, “MAMA!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “If you’re not a hero, does that make you a villain?” —Alex Flinn

  Eden

  Naz screeched, and we both jerked apart, Romeo nearly against the wall, me nearly colliding with the bathroom mirror.

  “Mama, it’s been five minutes!”

  Had it though?

  Because to me, it felt like an eternity, those few moments where our lips had touched.

  Romeo’s lips pulled into an amused smile.

  Naz rounded the corner and put his hands on his hips. “Mom, if I don’t get to bed on time, I’ll get sick, remember? You said if I don’t go to bed at the same time I’m going to—”

  “I know what I said,” I interrupted.

  “Uncle Romeo, Mama’s face is super red. Is she getting sick? Should she go to bed too?”

  Romeo licked his lips and bent down until he was at eye level with Naz. “You’re right; she probably should go to bed early…”

  I crossed my legs.

  He was driving me insane!

  One minute I wanted to run him over with my car, the next, I was thinking about an early bedtime with his mouth between my thighs.

  Tristian had never…I’d told him I didn’t like it.

  Had I just been saving that for someone else?

  For Romeo?

  And why was I even thinking about that right now?

  “Mama?” Naz waved a hand in the air. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Absolutely.” I cleared my throat and hopped down from the counter, then nearly collided with Romeo. He steadied me on my feet. “Let’s get you to bed, buddy.”

  Romeo released me but not before squeezing my arm as if to say “later.” Did I want there to be a later? My body and mind were at complete war with each other. I led Naz into his room, said his prayers with him, and kissed him on the head. I grew up with cameras all around me, so the ones that I knew were in his room, thanks to Romeo, didn’t bother me.

  Exhaustion had already hit. I went back to my room, only to hear the shower running.

  “Strip,” Romeo said as he came out of the bathroom. “Now.”

  “I am not having sex with you!” The nerve of that idiot! A kiss didn’t mean naked time! I could just strangle him!

  His lips pressed together in an amused smile as he approached me. Leaning in close to my mouth, he whispered, “I don’t remember asking you to.”

  “What?”

  “Have sex.” He pecked the tip of my nose like I was a little girl, a child, and before I could stop myself, I was on him, trying to attack, strangle maybe, who knew?

  I’d finally lost it.

  With a laugh, he grabbed my leg, twisting me around until he could pry me free. Throwing me on the bed next, he swiftly hovered above me.

  I surrendered.

  Panting.

  My chest rising and falling.

  Waiting.

  For who the hell knew what…

  “You’re exhausted, Red. Let me put you to bed.”

  “I’m not a child.” I straight up pouted.

  “You literally just tried to attack me. If you were standing, you’d probably stomp your feet too.”

  “Would not.”

  “Would too.” He winked, grinning in that Romeo Sinacore sort of way.

  For a moment, we both stared at each other. It was like old times before everything turned confusing, frustrating, ugly.

  He was the first to break our mirroring thoughts.

  “I missed you, Red. A lot.”

  “Don’t.” Tears filled my eyes. “Please don’t.”

  “You want me to lie?”

  “Lies hurt less than truths.”

  “Eden.” He kissed my forehead. “The lies are what separated us, the truth hurts, but it’s the only thing that will eventually set you free.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing has changed. I’m still no good for you.”

  “Yet here we are. In the same place we’ve always been. You say that lies are what separated us, but now truths are separating us as well? I don’t understand. What are you keeping from me?”

  “What I have to in order for you to move on.”

  “Move on from what?”

  “Me.”

  That one word hurt more than laying my husband to rest.

  He pulled me to my feet, making quick work of slipping my shirt over my head.

  I stood there in a trance.

  Stunned.

  Angry.

  Happy.

  Guilty.

  My leggings came next, then socks, panties. My bra somehow came off. He was picking me up into his arms and setting me in the steaming shower.

  I flinched when he followed.

  Squeezed my eyes shut when he started rubbing his hands all over my body, washing me, cleansing me. It felt like a holy moment, one where you don’t speak your confession for fear that you won’t stop once you start.

  He led me under the water.

  I kept my eyes closed.

  He scared me.

  I scared me.

  What was happening?

  It was as though I was having an out of body experience; I was there, but I wasn’t.

  I couldn’t believe he was cleaning me like it was no big deal when it was a huge one. Still, it felt comfortable being there with him. I wanted to open my eyes, but I was afraid of what I’d see.

  What I’d feel.

  When I was already feeling everything.

  I always had Tristian standing between us, we both did, and now… now there was nothing but this chasm of pain between us.

  Mistakes.

  Regrets.

  Memories we could never change.

  “You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted but couldn’t have.” He came up behind me, pulling my back against his rock hard body. “That�
��s my truth. Telling you that doesn’t fix anything, doesn’t change anything. It just makes me angry, and it makes you sad. I’m fucking exhausted from making you sad, Red.”

  Cold air hit me in the back as he stepped out of the shower. I let him go; it was just easier that way. Nothing was ever simple between us. Except… walking away.

  Later that night, long after he’d fallen asleep, I thought of his words.

  Did that mean he still wanted me?

  Still cared?

  Did that mean he was here for more than just protection?

  Or was it because his only competition was dead in the cold hard ground?

  With a curse, I threw off the duvet, grabbed a sweatshirt, and left my bedroom.

  Thought after thought assaulted my mind, and on my way to the kitchen, I noticed the light to Tristian’s office was on. Before I knew what I was doing, the door was creaking open. Legos littered the floor in an explosion of color.

  “Naz,” I whispered.

  He missed his hero.

  And it would be my life’s goal to make sure he only saw Tristian as that. Despite being one of the biggest lies of them all, it’d be a lie I would gladly tell.

  The truth was sometimes too painful to recognize; it left scars where a lie sometimes left a smile.

  I started picking up the Legos around Tristian’s old desk. How had Naz gotten so many in here in the first place?

  A few toppled over onto a piece of paper.

  I glanced at it, then did a double take.

  What the fuck?

  My heart dropped.

  My breathing hitched.

  I was lost all over again.

  With a shaky hand, I brought the paper up to my face, having to take a seat to keep my legs from giving out on me. In my hands was a wire transfer for twenty-five million dollars into a savings account with Naz’s name on it. More money that I couldn’t trace, that I didn’t know about it. When would it end?

  In what world did an accountant make that sort of money? And why put it in Naz’s name?

  We were wealthy.

  But not that wealthy.

  Not even close.

  “Tristian,” I whispered to myself. “What the hell have you done?”

  I jolted out of my skin when I heard Romeo roar, “What are you doing?”

  Like a kid caught doing something wrong, I hid the paper behind my back.