Monster: Made & Broken (A Mafia Bad Boy Romance)

by Nora Ash

  Silently, I walked over to retrieve Evelyn’s coat. She let me help her shrug into it and didn’t protest when I wound my arm around her midriff to support most of her weight. She might have been able to walk without limping too much now, but I didn’t want the cuts on her feet to start bleeding again.

  The thought of how badly hurt her soles had been after Leo’s mistreatment made the monster rear its head and snarl. I pushed it down with the grim satisfaction of knowing that he’d had enough time to regret what he’d done to her before he drew his last breath.

  No one was ever going to hurt her again. Evelyn was mine, and no one would ever take her away from me. Not even her.

  * * * *

  Chapter 17

  Evelyn

  I spent the car ride to Marcus’ brothers’ place staring wide-eyed at him from the passenger seat. Either he didn’t notice or he didn’t mind, because not once did he return my gaze.

  I’d had boyfriends before, but not a single relationship had lasted past the three-week mark, and certainly no one had ever declared that they were going to marry me before. And then, out of nowhere, the man I had stolen from claimed I would be his wife no matter what it took.

  The baby was bad enough—but I had been able to make sense of that, somewhat. He wanted an heir and I had a womb—I could understand the business-like approach to it, even if I didn’t particularly appreciate it.

  But this…?

  This wasn’t about business, or repayment for what I did to him. This was… Despite myself, I felt my heart flutter in my chest as I recalled what he’d said. That we belonged together—that he’d waited all his life for me.

  It was absurd, of course. There was no such thing as fate, no such thing as soulmates, and no happy ending for the girl who had fucked up her life beyond repair by getting involved with the mafia.

  But there was still a tiny part of me that had yearned something fierce when he told me he would do whatever it took to marry me. No one had ever wanted me enough to say something like that, and no one but my mother had ever really shown that they cared enough about me to go out of their way for me.

  He wasn’t wrong when he said that I felt it too, though what “it” was, I wasn’t entirely sure. I’d been drawn to him from the moment I first saw him, even with all his looming danger and darkness. I’d written it off as purely physical attraction, but deep down, I knew that wasn’t it.

  Deep down, I knew some stupid part of me longed for what he said to be true.

  But I was too old to believe in fairy tales and happy endings, and whatever was between me and Marcus, it wasn’t love. We didn’t even know each other, for crying out loud!

  I gritted my teeth against the inexplicable pang of longing.

  What I needed was to not be involved with another crime family any longer than I had to. Getting out of this arrangement we had going as soon as this whole Brigs thing was solved was the pragmatic thing to do, and I was nothing if not pragmatic.

  * * *

  Marcus’ twin brothers shared a flat overlooking the Thames. It wasn’t located in the same kind of luxurious and sleek apartment building that Marcus lived in, but a re-purposed old brick factory. Still, when Marcus let us into the flat with a pair of keys he produced from his pocket, it was quite obvious that it wasn’t a place I’d ever be able to afford for myself.

  The floors were polished hardwood and the view from the living room we stepped into was every bit as amazing as Marcus’.

  “They won’t mind that you just let yourself in?” I asked in a low tone as he let his gaze sweep over the room, likely searching for clues to the whereabouts of his brothers.

  “No. Sit down while I get them.” He walked toward the leather sofa in front of a giant flat screen TV, effectively dragging me along by the grip he had around my waist.

  I obeyed, not bothering to argue that my feet really didn’t hurt. I’d tried that on multiple occasions already, and it’d all fallen on deaf ears.

  Marcus made sure I was comfortable on the couch before he turned around and stalked toward the hallway leading further into the flat. I heard a door open, followed by distinct moaning.

  Oh, God! I flushed hotly when I realized what Marcus had undoubtedly just walked in on.

  I couldn’t hear what he said to interrupt them, but the moaning stopped and the female voice that followed shrilled through the apartment.

  Shortly after, I heard the door close again and had a moment’s worth of hoping we’d be leaving before whichever brother had just been disturbed had the chance to meet me, but that hope was crushed when the sound of another door being opened—followed by an indignant shout—echoed into the living room.

  Shortly thereafter Marcus appeared around the corner again, looking as disinterested as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  “Should we be leaving?” I asked.

  “No. They’ll be out shortly.” He arched an eyebrow at my attempt at getting up. “You stay seated. Your feet—”

  “Yeah yeah,” I sighed, falling back down on the cushion again. “My feet are delicate petals. You do realize this is highly inappropriate, right? We should really come back when they’re not busy.”

  Marcus shrugged. Apparently, he wasn’t the least bit fussed over walking in on his brothers having sex.

  We didn’t wait more than five minutes before the two doors further into the flat opened almost simultaneously, and two blonde girls stomped through to the living room and headed straight for the front door. If looks could kill, Marcus would have been stone cold dead.

  The door slammed after them hard enough for the flat screen to shake.

  “You’re toeing the edge of losing your key, you wanker,” an annoyed male voice sounded. I looked up just as a redheaded guy rounded the corner, an irritated expression plastered across his face. He was wearing nothing but a maroon pair of boxers that clashed spectacularly with his messy ginger hair.

  His spitting image appeared behind him, wearing an identical scowl. I blinked at the double vision. Marcus had said they were twins, all right, but I’d never seen two people who looked more alike than these brothers—the only thing that set them apart was that the latecomer had on a pair of fluorescent orange shorts. They didn’t look much like Marcus and Blaine, who I’d easily been able to tell were brothers, though the vast expanse of bare skin currently on display made it plenty obvious that they were still attractive men.

  I did my best to not look anywhere below their shoulders as I struggled to get up from the couch once more, but Marcus planted a large hand on my shoulder and pressed me down without effort.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” Orange Boxers asked as his gray eyes zeroed in on me.

  “Hi,” I said, doing my best to not blush again at the awkward encounter. “And sorry. I told him we should leave.”

  “Common sense is not our brother’s strongest suit, love,” Maroon said as he looked me up and down. “Which is why I gotta ask if he’s kidnapped you, or you’re here of your own free will?”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Marcus’ face turn dangerously dark. If the twins noticed, they ignored him.

  “Er… free will,” I offered, quirking an eyebrow at them. “Dare I ask?”

  Orange shrugged and fell down on the couch next to me, spreading his arms across the back of it as if we were old friends. “You look an awful lot like our mother, and with that weird Oedipal complex our brother Blaine’s got going on with his wife, you never know.”

  “Evelyn is my fiancée,” Marcus growled, the warning clear in his voice. “You’ll treat her with respect.”

  Maroon choked on a cough, and next to me, Orange turned his head to stare at me so fast I heard his neck pop.

  Maroon recovered first. “Well, well, seems the Steel men have a type. Better watch out, or we might end up accidentally marrying the next curvy little redhead that crosses our paths, eh, Liam?” He shot me a disarming smile.

  “Well, congratulations. I always as
sumed you’d end up abducting a bride, or something, so well done on landing a bird who’s actually sticking around voluntarily,” Orange said. He was still massaging his neck with one hand. “I’m kind of curious what made you two crazy kids hook up, though. Last I heard, our dear brother wasn’t exactly seeing anyone.”

  I glanced at Marcus, unsure of how to explain our arrangement—especially now that he was adamant we’d end up getting married. The vaguely humorous note that he had, in fact, abducted me off the street wasn’t lost on me, though.

  “We’re not here to discuss Evelyn,” Marcus said. He gestured toward the armchair next to Orange—or Liam—at Maroon. “Sit down, Louis. This is serious.”

  Louis’ amused smile faltered and he moved to the chair, seemingly not bothered that his brother was ordering him about in his own home.

  “What is it, then?” Liam asked. He, too, had lost the note of humor from his voice. “Is it about Brigs?”

  “No,” Marcus said. His mouth was set in a grim line as he took a seat on the coffee table so he could face both the twins. Something about his posture made me think that it was harder for him to broach the subject with Louis and Liam than it had been with Blaine. “It’s about Dad. And Jeremy.”

  I watched the twins as Marcus told them everything about the video he’d taken of their father ordering Jeremy’s murder, what Blaine had told him about their other brother’s arrest, and finally, what he and Blaine had discussed. Both their faces grew darker and darker, grief etching into their features until Marcus finished talking.

  They both looked at each other then, and I got the sense that something passed between them—some sort of communication neither Marcus or I could interpret.

  When they finally looked back, it was at me.

  “How is she involved?”

  “I’m… not,” I croaked, blanching.

  “Love, there is no way our dear brother would have involved his new fiancée in any of this if he’d had a choice. He might be mad as fuck, but he’s not dumb. What’s your role in this?” Liam said.

  “Brigs hired her to steal the video from me,” Marcus said. If he was worried about revealing this tidbit to the twins, he didn’t show it. “She watched it. She’s the one who made me talk to you and Blaine.”

  “Of course. You’re the girl he called us about,” Louis said. He shook his head and looked back at Marcus. “What happened? She decided to switch teams and Brigs had Leo torture her?”

  “Yes.”

  Liam got up from his seat and rubbed his hands through his messy hair with a long sigh. “Of course you couldn’t find your wife at a nightclub like a normal person.”

  “What is the plan, then? Once Brigs is taken care of, how the fuck are we supposed to take down our own father?” Louis said. “He’s the most powerful man in the bloody country.”

  “I don’t know,” Marcus said, his tone surprisingly soft. “But we have to try.”

  “Yeah. We do,” Liam said. He was leaning against the wall, and despite the anguish still plain on his face, there was a look of determination in his eyes when he glanced back at his twin. “I’m not losing any more brothers to him.”

  * * *

  The darkness that radiated off Marcus was stronger than normal as he drove us back to his flat, but I found it didn’t unsettle me like it had in the beginning. Somewhat to my confusion it just made me want to touch him, offer my support in some way. I didn’t, though. Something about reaching out for him after his declaration that we somehow belong together made me hesitate. As if touching him would mean that I agreed.

  Wanted to belong with him.

  Sharp fear clenched in my stomach, and I frowned. I’d never thought of myself as the romantic type—I’d learned early on that men weren’t to be trusted when my dad up and left my mother and me when I was still a kid, and working for Brigs had only confirmed it. Most of my marks had been married, and yet still they came willingly at the promise of sex with a stranger.

  I’d never wanted to be part of a couple, so why did I care whether or not Marcus did?

  When we got back to Marcus’ flat it was past six in the evening, and I headed straight for the fridge as my stomach grumbled about having missed lunch. Before I could let my eyes roam over the fancy ingredients Marcus had stocked his fridge with, a large hand came down on my shoulder.

  “Go sit down. I’ll cook.”

  I craned my neck up to look at him. “Don’t be silly—it’s kind of my job. And besides, you’ve had a tough day. I’ll try to whip up something slightly better than the pasta.”

  He didn’t quite manage to hide the grimace that passed over his face at the mention of my failed pasta dish, and I couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit insulted.

  “It wasn’t that bad!”

  Marcus didn’t respond, and I huffed at his raised eyebrow.

  “Fine, whatever. You play MasterChef, then. I’ll watch CSI and wait on your culinary creations.” I didn’t quite stomp off to the sofa, though I did sit down on the couch with a demonstrative huff.

  It didn’t take long for mouthwatering scents to waft over to the lounge area, and when Marcus finally placed a plate with a large steak, buttered potatoes, and pan seared veggies in front of me, I didn’t have it in me to stay insulted.

  “Oh my God, this looks absolutely amazing,” I said, already grabbing knife and fork to dig in. The first bite was heaven.

  “Mouth orgasm,” I moaned around a big chunk of meat. “How are you such a good cook?” I scarfed down another bite, humming happily. “This is legit the best food I’ve ever tasted.”

  “I wanted to own a café, once,” he said. He sat next to me on the couch with his own plate, but he managed it with quite a bit more grace than I. “Took some cooking classes, until my father found out.”

  “I guess it’s not that easy to get out of the family business, in your situation,” I said in between unladylike bites. Up until now, it had never dawned on me that he’d even want to. “When did you try?”

  “When I was sixteen. I always used to help my mother in the kitchen. It took a few years after her death until I could go near one again.”

  He said it so calmly, with no hint of emotion, but the revelation still made my heart give an achy spasm of empathy.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’d lost her,” I said, finally looking up from my already half-devoured food.

  He gave a shrug, but the stiffness of his shoulders told me he was just putting on a show. There was an old wound there.

  “What happened? If… if you’re okay talking about it.”

  “One of the Family’s rivals got to her. She liked to go for evening walks around the neighborhood. I usually came with her. I didn’t that night—it was the same night my father had some of the men teach me about guns for the first time. That’s why they got to her—the men who were supposed to guard the neighborhood were securing the warehouse they used for target practice.”

  I didn’t think about it this time—I just reached out and placed my hand on his knee, wanting somehow to ease the pain I could almost see behind his dark gaze. “It wasn’t your fault. You know that, right? If you’d been there, you would have died too.”

  Marcus shrugged again, his sensitive lips twisting into a frown. “Maybe. Or maybe they would have been content with killing a Steel son rather than an innocent woman. She was very kind. Good. Not like the rest of us.” He looked at me and his gaze turned softer. “You remind me of her.”

  I couldn’t help the hot flush I felt spread to my cheeks. “I’m not really all that kind. Or good. I worked for Brigs for a year and a half—I don’t think anyone who’s done what I have can be classed as good.”

  He put his fork down and placed his now free hand on top of mine. The heat from it flowed up my arm with a pleasant buzz. “What have you done?”

  There was no judgment in his tone, nor unease. Only his usual calmness. The lingering softness in his eyes as he looked at me made all the guilt I’d spent s
o long suppressing come bubbling to the surface.

  “I’m the reason people got hurt. A lot of people. I lured them into the trap, and I knew what would happen to them once they walked into it. I never stayed once Leo and his men had their hands on them, but I knew.” I was too ashamed to keep eye contact and looked down to where our hands were joined. How ironic that I felt such intense shame over the crimes I’d facilitated in front of a mafia son. But that soft look in his eyes, hearing him compare me to his dead mother whom he obviously thought the world of… it made me feel like such a fraud. Even though he, of all people, should have known what kind of work I’d done.

  “I never slept with any of them.” I don’t know what possessed me to say that, but it somehow felt important that he knew he was the only one I’d had sex with for the job. As if that somehow would make me purer.

  “Even if you did, it wouldn’t change what you are deep down,” he rumbled, his hand moving to nudge my chin up. “You put your own life on the line for mine. You protected me.”

  And there it was. I opened my mouth to deny it, to tell him that wasn’t what happened, but the words died on my lips. That was exactly what had happened. I’d wanted to protect him, the man I was meant to seduce so Brigs could have taken him and his family down. But when it came down to it, I couldn’t. And I had put my own life on the line to protect him.

  “Why did you work for him?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I was stupid and borrowed money off him that I couldn’t pay back. It was that job or… well, I’m sure you know what happens to people who don’t pay back a loan to a guy like Brigs.”