Braden: A Dark Mafia Romance

by York, Adora

  “Someone is here.” Don Abrami pulled his gun from his pants and moved behind Angela.

  “I thought you said this place was secure.” The man I didn’t recognize turned towards me as I emerged from the corridor of boxes. He stepped behind Angela and Don Abrami.

  “Braden!?” Don Abrami’s face tightened to rage.

  “Braden!” Angela screamed and a look of joy swept over her tear stained face.

  “One step closer and you will watch her die.” Don Abrami put a gun to Angela’s face, keeping himself hidden behind her.

  “It’s over Don Abrami.” Stefano emerged from the boxes with his gun drawn. “We know everything.”

  “Stefano?” Don Abrami stared at him. “Braden I get, he’s all hung up on this bitch, but you would betray the Family?”

  “You betrayed the Family!” I said angrily.

  “The only thing I’ve done is what was necessary to keep this Family together.” Don Abrami looked over at Stefano. “You understand that, don’t you?”

  “What I understand is that you lied to us in order to get what you wanted and my sister is dead because of you.” Stefano moved his gun, looking for an opening to fire.

  “Okay, I’ll admit… That was a mistake. Let me fix it.” Don Abrami peeked out from behind Angela. “Kill Braden and you can sit at my table. I’ll give you your own territory, made men answering to you, and you’ll be next in line to be the Don of the Abrami family—the Moretti family.”

  “You don’t understand a damn thing about me if you think I would betray everything and everyone I’ve ever loved for power.” Stefano shook his head.

  “Fine…” Don Abrami pushed Angela to the side and then gunfire erupted from the end of his pistol.

  “Stefano!” I yelled as I watched him take multiple slugs.

  “As for you, Braden. I already know your weakness.” Don Abrami turned his gun towards Angela again and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Drop your gun, or I kill her.”

  I looked over at Stefano who was on the ground with several splotches of blood around his midsection. He was breathing, but he didn’t look like he was in good shape. There was no way that I could open fire on Don Abrami without him. Angela’s eyes were filled with terror. She had already been tortured, albeit quite mild considering what I knew about the evil Indonesian hiding behind Don Abrami. There was no way I could get a clear shot at either of them with Don Abrami swinging Angela like a pendulum in front of me. Dropping my gun meant the end of us both, but if I didn’t drop it, he would put a bullet through her and use her body as a shield to protect the two of them. I knew I had no other choice, so I extended my arm and let my gun fall to the ground. I dropped my shoulders in defeat.

  “I’m sorry, Angela.” I said as I took a deep breath.

  “Ah you’re a fool, Braden. You could have had everything, but now you’ll just watch the rest of your world crumble.” Don Abrami turned his gun away from Angela and leveled it on me.

  It was the only break I needed. For years I had learned how to shoot, how to survive, and how to kill. The only thing stopping me from being the soldier I used to be was my weakened body. I looked at Stefano’s gun, which had fallen towards Don Abrami. I threw everything I could into a front somersault. I knew I wouldn’t have more than a millisecond to take the shot, but it was all I needed. My body screamed with pain as I landed on my wounded shoulder, scooped Stefano’s gun up, and came to a kneeling position. Don Abrami had used Angela as a shield, and he couldn’t turn her fast enough to get the gun on me. I lifted Stefano’s gun and took the only shot I had, the perfect shot. My years as a sniper served me well. The bullet flew past Angela’s ear and went straight into Don Abrami’s eye socket. He recoiled and then all life faded from him. His blood splattered all over the Indonesian man behind him.

  “Hey look.” The Indonesian shook his head. “This was all just a business arrangement. I don’t have any beef with you.” He waved his arms frantically.

  “Don’t worry; I’m not going to kill you.” I slowly pulled myself up, keeping my gun trained on him.

  “Thank you. I never liked dealing with Mr. Abrami anyway. I’d much rather deal with you.” He nodded quickly. “I paid for this girl, but she is my gift to you.”

  I stumbled over to his table and grabbed a scalpel, which I used to cut Angela’s restraints. She collapsed into my arms and hugged me, placing a kiss on my cheek. As much as I wanted to embrace her, I needed to take care of Stefano, and the Indonesian was a threat until he was gone from the warehouse. I helped her to a standing position and picked up some of her clothes. She wrapped them around her body and her fingers traced my arm down to the scalpel. She removed it from my hand spun around, driving into the Indonesian’s neck. My eyes went wide in shock as I watched her cut through his carotid artery like a surgeon. His lips sputtered a few words that I could comprehend as he grabbed his neck, but the loss of blood took him quick and he fell on the floor beside Don Abrami. Angela spit on them both and threw the scalpel on the floor beside them.

  “Angela…” I said in shock.

  “He’s not going to hurt anyone, ever again.” She turned to me and wrapped her arms around me again. “Thank you so much. I thought you were dead!”

  “I almost was.” I nodded. “I have to help Stefano. He saved me. There is no way I’m going to let him die here.”

  We loaded Stefano into the Indonesian’s car and drove as fast as we could towards the hospital. The only thing that let me know he was alive was his groans when we hit a bump. I didn’t have the medical expertise to patch him up and save him, so I knew I needed a doctor. Normally, I would have used one of the doctors on our payroll, but I didn’t know who I could and couldn’t trust. Angela and I got him into the hospital and I collapsed in a chair in the waiting room. I felt as bad as Stefano looked, but I was just happy I had managed to save Angela. She sat down beside me and kept her hand wrapped around mine as if she was afraid to let me go. I knew there was still a lot more to do before I could rest, so I stood up as soon as I caught my breath. Angela reached for me, trying not to let me go.

  “I can’t let the Family find Don Abrami in that warehouse.” I leaned in and kissed her.

  “I can’t stay here.” She shook her head. “I can’t be alone.”

  “You won’t be.” I smiled and stroked the side of her face. “I already called your father.”

  A second later, I heard a loud commotion and people filled the waiting room. Her father had called in the press, the police, and everyone he could muster on such short notice. I slipped into the crowd and left her there with those that loved her. I knew she would be safe. Cleaning up the mess we had made and making sure we all walked away from it without getting a bounty on our heads was more important than the reunion I craved with Angela. The people swallowed her, and questions came from every angle. Stefano was in surgery and his life was in the hands of the doctors. I had to trust they would be able to save him. I walked outside and held the wall for stability. My wounds were catching up with me, but I couldn’t stop. I made my way to the Indonesian’s car and climbed into the driver’s seat. With any luck, the reunion would come soon enough.

  Chapter 19: Angela

  Braden had saved me, but he had left me alone in the hospital with a mob of flashbulbs. It seemed like every news agency in the country was represented in some capacity. They fired questions at me so fast I couldn’t answer them, and I had no idea what I should actually say. I settled on a story about the Eight-Ballers kidnapping me, and put my rescue on Stefano. Braden was the real hero, but I knew he didn’t need to be in the public spotlight. My mother and sister helped me up from my chair, ushering me into the emergency room where I was finally safe from the press. My father wheeled into the room and took my hand. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I looked at my family. I never thought I would ever see them again, much less touch them. I hugged my mother and sister before kneeling beside my father’s wheelchair. His strong arms pulled me in tight and I
bawled like a baby.

  “Those monsters will pay for what they did to you.” He said harshly and I could tell he was tearing up as well.

  “We need to talk about that.” I said as doctors came into the room.

  “Let the doctors check you out first. There will be plenty of time for talking later.” He released his grasp and I was whisked behind a white curtain.

  My mother paced and my sister tapped her feet anxiously as the doctors checked me out. I had a lot of bruising, but I was otherwise unscathed. They ran every test imaginable. They naturally assumed I had been brutally raped and seemed rather shocked when they only found bruising on my stomach, my feet and my wrists. Most of the bruising I had gotten from Braden had already faded away. The doctors worked on me like I was the only patient in the hospital, which I assumed had a lot to do with the fact my father was not only a lawyer, but the District Attorney of New York City. Eventually, they were done with their task and I was ordered to stay the night for observation. I lay there in bed for a few minutes and then the curtains parted. My mother walked in and sat down beside me. She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it tightly.

  “You don’t have to talk about what happened if you don’t want to, but just know I’m here for you.” She said softly.

  “That may be the most motherly thing you’ve ever said to me.” I cracked a smile and laughed a little bit.

  “I know I haven’t been the best mom, but I’ve always loved you and wanted the best for you.” She rubbed her thumb across my knuckles.

  “I know. Thank you.” I shook my head and tried to close my eyes. “I think I just need to sleep.”

  “That is probably the medication. Get some rest, darling.” She stood up and kissed my forehead.

  I tried to focus my thoughts on Braden as the medically induced slumber started to force my eyes closed. My mind was still trying to reconcile what had happened, and the fact he had somehow survived the events at his father’s house. In my lucid state, I started to wonder if he was even real, and if everything we had experienced was nothing more than a strange dream brought on by too much champagne at the Grand Ballroom. When sleep finally took me, I dreamed about that night, and every night that had happened since. It was all like some sort of twisted fantasy, but at every turn was Braden with his eyes locked on me. I knew he was real, and not some simple ghost. I ended my dream with the image of the woman he once loved, Mary, who was gunned down in front of him. I watched the event unfold as though I was there, and I walked across broken glass to see her red hair drenched in blood. As I knelt over her body, she opened her eyes.

  “You have to love him…” She said with a smile. “He needs love.”

  “I will…” I said as I took her hand. “I promise.”

  “Promise what?” I was pulled out of my dream by Danielle’s voice.

  “Danielle…” I reached for her hand and noticed her eyes were red rimmed and swollen. “Danielle, I’m so sorry about Ronald.”

  “I know he didn’t give a shit about me.” She shrugged. “I can’t help how I felt about him.”

  “You two would have been beautiful together.” I wrapped my fingers around her hand. “You’ll find someone else.”

  “Maybe I don’t want anyone else…” Her voice trailed off.

  The dreams took me again as soon as I felt more medication from the morphine drip surge through my veins. My mind drifted to Ronald, and all that we had been through over the years. I felt like his death was my fault, and that guilt gnawed at me as images formed in my subconscious. Even if he was weak, he was a good man, and in another life I might have ended up with him. I knew he would be missed and his family would blame me. As much as his mother tolerated my presence, they never really liked me. She hated that he was so hung up on someone who refused to return that love. If only he would have placed it where it really belonged, with my sister who adored him, he would never have been caught up in everything, and he would have still been alive. As I floated back towards consciousness, I saw Ronald waving goodbye to me. I tried to call out to him, but I was seeing the lights of the hospital before I got the opportunity.

  “I told them to slow down on the morphine.” I heard my father’s voice as I cracked my eyelids and turned my head.

  “Thank you; it is making me have really strange dreams.” I nodded.

  “Medically, you’re okay. They said you have some bruising that will go away in time.” He squeezed my hand. “The police will need a statement from you about the men who took you.”

  “Okay.” I nodded again. I tried to lift my head, but it was still too heavy from the drugs.

  “The man who brought you in will live. He’s in critical condition and will be in ICU for a few days, but they think he will make a full recovery.” My father put his hand to his forehead and rubbed his brow.

  “Good, I’m glad to hear that.” I wished I could tell Braden.

  “I did some checking on him, because that is what I do, and he’s a member of the Abrami Family—Mafia.” He looked down at the floor for a second. “I never thought I would be thankful for a man like Stefano Moretti.”

  “Everything happened so fast.” I looked over at my father and forced my eyes open.

  “Don’t worry; we will get the ones who did this. I’ve always thought the Mafia was the worst thing that could happen to our city, but now I see there are things out there much worse.” He squeezed my hand again.

  “Yeah…” I nodded, although I wasn’t thinking about the Eight-Ballers or the Mafia, I was thinking about the Indonesians.

  “Get some rest. I’ll ask the police to wait until tomorrow to get your statement.” He sighed. “I love you, Angela.”

  “I love you too, dad.” I smiled and my eyelids drifted together again.

  Everything became a blur. The morphine was still coursing through my veins and it did not let me have a peaceful sleep. I was still tired when the police came to take my statement, but I gave it to them I had rehearsed. The Eight-Ballers kidnapped me. I had no idea who Stefano Moretti was, but he saved me from them. I easily feigned shock and my father whisked them away after I gave my statement. I could hear him whispering about the incredible trauma I had suffered and even heard them talk about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which was likely impacting my memory. I told them I had no idea where Stefano found me. He wanted to lock Stefano in a room and beat the information out of him once he regained consciousness, but he was too grateful towards him to do it. He was willing to just let the mystery go unsolved in hopes that the police would be able to figure something out.

  “I’m sorry I can’t remember anything else.” I said as I got dressed in my hospital room.

  “It is okay darling. You told them everything you know.” My mother was running around like a hen protecting her fragile egg, refusing to let my father ask me anymore questions.

  The remnants of my family went home. It was so strange seeing our townhouse after everything that had happened. It felt almost alien. I tried to call Braden as soon as I had a new cell phone, but it kept going to voicemail. Unfortunately, I had no way to know if he was alive or dead. It wasn’t like I could drive to Mafia headquarters and knock on the door. The doctor at the hospital had prescribed me a pharmacy full of anti-depressants, sleep aids, and other things that could take my mind off of things, but I didn’t like the numbness it brought on. Taking them made me feel muted and I slept through most of the day. I really needed to hear from Braden and know he was still alive. I had dealt with losing him once after the fire at his father’s house, and I couldn’t deal with it again. I continued to stare at my phone nearly every waking moment.

  “Angela?” I looked at the door to see Danielle. She walked in and pushed the door closed.

  “Hey Danielle…” I gave her a warm smile and sat up.

  “Look, I know you and I aren’t exactly cut from the same cloth, despite our last name, but I want you to know I’m here for you if you need someone.” She pulled a chair up and sat besid
e my bed. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve gone through…”

  “Thank you Danielle.” I smiled and nodded. “I really appreciate that.”

  We talked about stupid things for nearly two hours and it actually felt nice to have a real adult conversation with my little sister. We had hardly tolerated each other as we got older and I realized she was a lot more complex than textbooks and video games. I had to respect her for having so much direction in her life when I had drifted through my own without it. She really was the daughter my parents deserved while I was just the one they dressed up for special events. After she left, I pulled my laptop over to my bed and started researching colleges. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I realized I had put it off long enough. I didn’t get very far, because my phone rang and I practically fell out of bed grabbing it off of my night stand. A huge rush of relief swept over me when I realized it was Braden.

  “Braden?” I asked in a hurried tone.

  “Hello, my love.” It was his voice. “I need to see you.”

  “Just tell me where.” A sledgehammer couldn’t have removed the smile from my face.

  Chapter 20: Braden

  Everything hurt as I pulled back up to the warehouse. The only solace I had was that Angela was safe and everything I was doing was to secure her future. I walked around the warehouse tapping my head in confusion. I lit a cigar and stared at the bodies on the floor. I knew that if Don Abrami’s treason was revealed to the family, it would tear everything Stefano and I had worked for apart. We would be fighting a war against the Eight-Ballers and against the other Families. I also knew that there was little chance Stefano and I would get a chance to explain ourselves. Killing the head of our Family, regardless of the circumstances, would be unforgivable. After I stared at the bodies for a few minutes, I suddenly had a brilliant idea. In order to stay united, we needed a common enemy—and we needed a martyr.