Straight, No Chaser: A Mafia Alpha Bad Boy Romance

by Nikki Belaire

“Luciano...”

  I hate the pity in her voice. None of which I deserve. “Her name was Rachael. She had an undiagnosed heart condition. Her parents sued us, even though we weren’t at fault. It could've happened at any time. But they were heartbroken. Embarrassed she died fucking us. We settled out of court. Paid them ten million dollars to make it all go away. And never speak of it again.”

  But that was too damn easy. Although Ty and I never talked about what happened, it's all I could ever think about. Owning my every thought and action. To know this woman died so pitifully with the two of us, who didn't even know her. Didn't give a damn about her. Until she became a problem. That we had to fix. That we had to find a way to cover up.

  “I’m so sorry. For all of you.”

  I shake my head. The pillow case cool against my burning cheeks. Unable to accept her sympathy. “Not me, just her.”

  "Yes, you too. She was with you because she wanted to be, whether her family liked it or not. It’s no different than if all of you had been in a car wreck or there'd been a fire.”

  If only it was that simple. But in my fucking house, our naked bodies using each other for nothing but wanton pleasure, it’s too intimate. Too personal. Too raw.

  “It’s a form of survivor’s guilt or post-traumatic stress. You think if you’d done something more or something different, then she would still be alive.”

  She entwines our fingers and pulls my arm back around her body. Shocking me to my core that she wants to comfort me. Isn’t too repulsed to touch me.

  “But we both know that’s not true.”

  Beyond the lawyers and my brother, I’ve never shared this secret with anyone. Never let another person see how truly fucking broken I am. And within just a few minutes she has me and my fucked up head all figured out. My beautiful, brilliant angel. “How do you know so much?”

  “Lots and lots of counseling. I blamed myself too for what happened with Hunter. What if I really was a tease? Why did I accept the drink he laced? Was it just ‘boys being boys’ and I overreacted?” Darkness overtakes her expression. Her own demons battling within her head and heart. “It took a long time for me to accept that I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Unable to understand how she could ever have those doubts, I extinguish the anger flaming in my muscles from the reminder of what that motherfucking bastard did to her. She deserves my tenderness, not my rage. I caress her wet cheek. Tears for both of us. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “It wasn’t yours either. You have to believe it too.”

  Simple absolution granted through an impassioned whisper in the darkness. Not sure if I can accept it. But I will damn sure try. For her.

  We lie quietly. Both of us lost in thought. No sounds until her huge yawn. My own exhaustion sets in, and I tug her closer. Kissing her forehead before my eyes fall shut. Letting go when her head tucks under my chin. Uncertain what the future holds but content for now that she knows she’s safe and loved. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Freezing. Alone. Trapped.

  I jerk awake, clawing out of the deep sleep swallowing me. Fighting with the sheets tangled around my legs, strangling my movements. My racing pulse slows when I catch sight of her on the balcony. My t-shirt hanging on her petite frame like a dress. Signifying her decision to stay, physically and mentally.

  Climbing out of bed, I hustle to her and slide my hands around her tiny waist. Welcoming her body leaning back to meet my embrace. I press a gentle kiss to the velvet skin on her shoulder. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Just thinking. We’ve been so broken and now…”

  “What?” Terror rages through me from her cracking voice, and I spin her around. Blond strands flitting through the air from my force. I need to be fucking gentle, but when something hurts her I’ve got to fucking find out what it is. “Why the fuck are you crying?”

  She winces under my forceful grip on her arms. Pulling her up to her tip toes so I can see her face better.

  "I'm pregnant."

  Pregnant.

  My angel’s pregnant.

  I swear to fucking god the world stops. No movement or sound. Except for my damn phone blaring from the nightstand. Yet I can’t comprehend anything but her sobs. Can’t see anything but the misery darkening her tear-streaked face.

  "You’re not happy? You don’t want it?"

  Which I will never let fucking happen. Anger tightens my grasp, and I have to fucking check myself not to lose absolute control. I will keep her fucking prisoner if I have to before I’ll let her destroy our happiness.

  "Of course I do!"

  A fierceness I’ve never heard before thunders in her voice, and she attempts to yank away from me. Pissed that I would accuse her while relief unfurls my fingers from her delicate arms. But I still don’t let her go. I’ll never fucking let her go. “Then what?”

  "I was thinking how lucky I am that a man who loves me so much turned around and gave me the greatest gift he can." Shiny eyes meet mine and her tone softens, filled with what I hope is love that I haven’t completely smothered. "You filled me up with your baby, Luciano. Now every other motherfucker will know you've been there and they never will. I only belong to you."

  I can't fucking take any more. My sweet angel talking dirty, repeating back to me the words I whispered in her ear the first time she gave herself to me. I drop to my knees in front of her. Of them. My soul truly alive again with her acceptance of me as our baby’s father.

  My cell vibrates again, chiming from the bedroom over and over. Blowing up with messages I don’t give a damn about. All I can fucking think about is taking care of my girl and our child. Soft skin shudders against my lips. Loving both of them more than I thought possible. “Thank you.”

  “You’re wel…”

  She jerks in my embrace, swaying against me. Forcing me to grab her hips to keep her from falling.

  “Oh!”

  What the fuck? My head flies up from kissing her stomach at the pain sharpening her gasp. Trembling fingers brush her shirt saturated with red.

  Blood.

  Fucking blood.

  “Something hurt me?”

  Confusion coils in her wobbly voice, and she blinks from the scarlet coating her hand before studying me. Wondering what the fuck happened to her. Questioning how I could let someone harm her again.

  A flash of metal flickers in the darkness before more shots ring out. Men. Too many to count descending on my house. Hurting my angel.

  My fingers dig into her back when I jump up, hustling her inside the house. I swipe my buzzing phone off the side table, finally catching the warning Nick was trying to send me with his slew of messages flooding my screen: Sebastian’s coming.

  Fucking shit. I steer her down the hallway. She stumbles on the steps, shock slowing her acceptance of my urgency and ability to walk. Fuck me. I’ve got to protect her. All of them. “Run Molly. Find Eli and hide in the tornado shelter.”

  “What? Where?”

  “He’ll show you.” She remains frozen, a hollow expression looking right through me. I point toward Eli’s room. “Go, damn it!”

  Finally she seems to understand, flinching from me screaming at her. Nodding and scurrying in the right direction. We’re engulfed in darkness just as she turns the corner. Glass shattering and voices yelling still able to ring through the shrieking alarms. Letting the intruders know we are on to them, and they will not fucking survive.

  Machine gun fire synchronizes with my rapid steps as I race through the foyer. So fucking grateful my guys have already organized a defense. I get off two bullets, hitting the bastards rushing through the door way before I slide into the dining room, banging my thigh against the black serving buffet.

  Adrenaline pounds through me, and I swipe at the sweat dripping into my eyes. Catching a glimpse of a stubby bastard coming in from the back deck, I floor him with a shot to the forehead. His buddy comes from the other side and slams into my jaw, hurting like
a son of a bitch. Bitter metallic liquid filling my mouth.

  I heave off the cabinets he rams me into and shove my Glock into his jiggly belly. His beady eyes widening in surprise as the slug rips through his intestines. One more bullet to the back of the head after he slumps to the hard wood just to make sure.

  “Luc?”

  Ty staggers in, hunched and clutching his stomach, his huge hand glistening from the bright red streaks coating his fingers. As much as I fucking hate my brother sometimes, ice races through my veins from the sheen of perspiration glossing his ashen skin. I jerk him into the pantry to check his wound.

  “It just grazed me.” He twists away. Unwilling to let me examine him. “I’m fine.”

  He fucking better be. I don’t have time to babysit his stupid ass. Not when I’ve got to fucking find Molly and Eli. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” Bolting out of the alcove, he glances back at me right on his heels. “Upstairs and outside are clear. Mason’s sweeping this floor now.”

  We dodge corpses strewn across the floor, an ocean of red swirled on the beige tile. Leaving scarlet footprints on the carpet as I follow her path. I kick open Eli’s door. Glass sparkles on the caramel carpet like diamonds. God fucking damn it. Motherfuckers have been in here.

  I fall to my knees in his closet. With shaking hands, I yank off the false floor. Ty’s flashlight sweeps through the darkness, and it feels like a fucking bullet ripping through my own chest. Eli’s small body wraps around hers, their faces pressed together. Clinging to each other in terror and solace.

  Neither moves. Or speaks. Or breathes.

  Dead.

  They’re dead.

  My angel and my brother are dead.

  “Look what those motherfuckers did. Look what they’ve done to them.”

  Ty’s crazed shriek echoes in the sparse space. Broken and angry and helpless. But I’ve got nothing. Unable to fucking yell or scream or curse.

  I am dead now too.

  The light they created extinguished. The joy they instilled stolen. Now only evil remains. Without their goodness, the demon inside of me surges back to life. Desperate and hungry for revenge. Thirsty to revel in the broken bones and mangled guts of the man responsible for this. Swearing to avenge both of them, he will be tormented for as long as we both live.

  “Luc?”

  A perplexed whisper breaks the silence before Eli’s head bobs, lifting a few inches. Blinking in the bright stream of light after hiding in the blackness for so long.

  Fucking shit. I yank him out of the hole and crush his body against mine. Relief and torture mixing in a bitter avalanche. He cries too. Hard and erratic. For her. For himself. For me.

  “She…told me…to be…really quiet. That you’d…come for us.” He sputters and sniffs, fighting to get the words out. Searching for reprieve from his turmoil. “That if I…was quiet you would…save us.”

  He trembles as I stroke his hair. Just like she used to. The sobs die down, and hiccups wrack his convulsing body. Clutching onto Ty after he drags our little brother away from me. Shielding him from the woman we both love. Now truly an angel.

  Wisps of her beautiful long hair flutter from the breeze of me dropping down onto the carpet. Once a solid smooth beige. Now dappled with crimson from her and my baby’s blood. Fuck me. She’s still warm against my skin. Her limp body easily curls to mine without protest or complaint. I tuck my face into her neck, pressing my lips against her delicate throat.

  “I’m sorry angel.” I shake with tears I haven’t shed since I was a fucking kid. My heart never ripped apart as brutally as this. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  My chest pounds from the hint of movement under my mouth. A pulse. Weak but there. So god damn fucking there. Fucking Jesus Christ. She’s alive.

  Epilogue

  Cora’s tiny legs kick against her bouncy seat, her bright blue eyes as inquisitive as her father's. Always studying, almost calculating. Absolutely no doubt she's Luciano's daughter. Eli wiggles with excitement on the stool next to me. Even more eager than she is to fill her hungry little tummy. "Okay, what do you think she'll like better, bananas or pears?"

  His head tilts, deep in thoughtful consideration. Making me laugh to myself. Thinking once again that he should be an engineer when he grows up as much as he loves to conduct a thorough analysis of every situation.

  He nods, certain in his decision. "Bananas."

  "Then let's give it a try."

  I pop off the lid and hold the container out to him from the fruit I pureed this morning. Letting him scoop out a small bite on the tip of the pink spoon. Hesitation must creep in, because he glances at me with a frown. Seeking confirmation, which swells my heart from how protective he is of his sister. "Go ahead. I think she's ready."

  Even Luciano comes over, pausing in his mushroom chopping, and chuckles at her puckered mouth, her delicate neck straining forward to taste the new food. His huge hands slide around my waist. My body responding immediately from his touch. From his lips on the crook of my neck. Trying my hardest to ignore the heat flaming between my legs, I watch our children. Not only by blood and love, but by law too, now that Eli's adoption is final. The fear of losing my husband never wanes. This vengeful world could steal him away from me at any moment. Yet knowing that Eli will always be mine if anything ever happens to Luciano makes the uncertainty almost bearable. But for tonight, I push all of those thoughts away.

  Refusing to let my worries ruin our perfect evening. Some may say boring but I'm not one of those people. Eli and Luciano will finish topping their homemade pizza. We'll all cuddle on the sofa and watch Star Wars for the hundredth time. And once the kids are asleep, Luciano will feign exhaustion to get me into bed that much sooner. For one of the rare times I still allow him manipulate me. Although he doesn't realize, even after all of we've endured, that I don't need to be tricked to be alone with him. To accept his tender affection and unwavering generosity, inside and outside of the bedroom.

  My fingers entwine with his, stroking over the rugged texture of the dark gray band encircling his finger. A ring as unique as the man who wears it. Which I hope provides him with a constant reminder that I accept him for who he is. Surprising, complex, and unbreakable. Exactly like my love for him.

  "Mom!" Eli's excited voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "She likes it!"

  Luciano jerks our coupled hands away from trailing lower when Eli wheels around to face us. "Good job, buddy. You made a great choice."

  He nods, his little cheeks glowing with pride, and turns back to her. Getting as much mush on her chin as in her mouth. Both of them beyond ecstatic. I lean into my husband's erection bulging against my back. Just like us.

  The End

  About the Author

  Nikki writes contemporary romantic thrillers and admits to a weakness for alpha males and bad boys, especially ones who can’t live without the strong women they love. She spends more time in her characters’ lives than her own. But when she’s in the real world, her passions include reading, wine appreciating, running, and spending time with her husband and daughter.

  @NikkiBelaire

  NikkiBelaire

  www.nikkibelaire.com

  Also by Nikki Belaire

  SURVIVING ABSOLUTION SERIES

  Wine & Whiskey

  Wine & Whiskey: Everything for You

  The Truth About Tequila

  The Truth About Tequila: Believe in Me