Dirty Money: A Dark Mafia Romance (Alpha Men Book 1)

by Roxy Sinclaire

  But it was like the universe was against me this time. I couldn’t say I didn’t deserve it. I only went as far as couple of blocks, when a child suddenly ran into the road, followed by his mother. I heard car horns and screeching tires, but the sounds were almost entirely muffled by the rush of blood in my ears. I was too close to hit the brakes, pressing on the horn would be useless. I'd been paying attention, I was a very good driver, but I was suddenly hit with the knowledge that I could be the cause of death of a child.

  I acted without thinking, making a sharp turn with the wheel to the other side of the street. I almost hit an oncoming car, but the owner stopped just in time, luckily there wasn’t anyone close enough to hit him. I crossed the lane, heading straight for the sidewalk; where there were even more people. It didn’t even occur to me to try the brakes. I just saw a street pole in the way, and aimed the nose of the car right at it, squeezing my eyes closed.

  The jolt when I hit the pole threw me forward, my momentum stopped sharply by the seatbelt, and my neck whiplashed as my body slammed back into the seat. I thought I hit my head, because I could hear a ringing in my ears, even though I didn’t feel any pain.

  Fuck.

  I stayed still, expecting some damage. My ragged breathing was suddenly loud in the car, and I opened my eyes cautiously. My hands were squeezed on the wheel, and I let go slowly, stretching my fingers to relieve the ache.

  I took stock of my body, but I didn’t feel bad. My neck hurt a bit, and I could feel the beginning of a migraine in the back of my head, but that was about it. I looked around as noise coming from outside registered in my mind.

  Double fuck. My car was surrounded by curious bystanders and wannabe good Samaritans. The last thing I needed was to throw myself into the lime light. It was not the time for it. I also realized I was going to be late for the meeting. Might as well go for a triple.

  I moved carefully, to pull off my seatbelt. Before I could think to reach for the door, it was opened. I looked up at whoever it was, surprised when I recognized him.

  Fuck the triple; today was just not my day.

  "You need a hand?"

  I didn’t answer, but when he held a hand out, I took it. I could feel my legs shaking, and I was momentarily relieved at how lucky I was, to come out unscathed. Then I stood on the ground and nearly fell flat on my face because my knees gave out on me. A hard, rounded shoulder slid under my armpit, an arm sliding around my waist to keep me on my feet. My ears were ringing again, my head swimming a little.

  I quickly recovered standing still as my vision swam into place. When I was sure I could stand without support, I pulled away.

  "Be careful," the guy said.

  I ignored the warning. I felt okay if I didn’t make any sudden moves. I tried walking a few steps away from the car, and I was still okay. Of course, he followed right beside me.

  "What the hell is an FBI agent doing at an accident scene?" I didn’t even see any cops yet, didn’t hear a siren.

  I looked around, worried for a moment about the boy. He'd disappeared when I made the sharp turn. I didn’t think I hit him outright, but maybe I clipped him?

  Like he knew what I was thinking, he gave me a pat on the shoulder.

  "The kid's all right. A bit shaken up, but he has a crowd to look after him until the local police get here."

  Right. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Then I turned and glared at him. "What the hell are you doing here, Belt."

  "That's Senior Special Agent Belt to you, Runt."

  I growled at him. "I have you beat by an inch, old man. Don't call me a runt."

  "You don’t look much different from the time I first saw you. You were such a skinny little thing; I was almost surprised by how much you'd grown. But then you always took after your dad, and he was never a small man, was he?"

  I bit my tongue against the string of curses I wanted to spit out. Roger Belt was an FBI agent that came close to cracking my dad the one time he was careless with the law. I'd been fifteen when I met him, and he somehow got it into his head I was some poor teen heading for the wrong side of the tracks, and I needed 'help', or at least to get away from my dad.

  He even asked me if I wanted out.

  But I'd had a plan for my life, long before I met him, and that meeting had only solidified it. Being a crook was one thing; being stupid and careless enough to get yourself caught was just imbecilic. The funny thing was my dad was just an accessory in the case that nearly put him away. They thought he was an accomplice, and if he hadn't found evidence to the contrary, he would still be serving time. But then, getting caught for someone else's crime was even dumber than getting caught because of your own blunder.

  He might not have been the best role model, but I'd heard everything my dad ever told me, taken to heart every one of his life lessons, no matter how morally crooked.

  "So," he began, conversationally. "I hear from a little bird you've been keeping interesting company these days."

  His eyes, when I met them, looked pleasant. I wasn’t fooled, though. I'd met him maybe a handful of times in the past twelve years, but he wasn’t an idiot. He put on a good cop act, but I knew to be wary of it.

  "You always did have interesting birds, Senior Special Agent Roger Belt," I muttered, not holding back on the sarcasm. "I'd love to stick around and chat, but—" I cut off, shrugging.

  "What. You'll drive off? With your car looking like that?"

  I scowled at the reminder, looking at my mangled ride. It had been in repairs for a month while I worked out the money. After that kind of damage, maybe it was time she went into retirement. Holding on for sentimentality's sake would do me no good.

  "I'll call a friend to take care of it." It would cost me some more cash, but I had plenty to spare just then. "I'll take a cab, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

  Hell, maybe I should have just taken one in the first place.

  "Stick around for a cup of coffee, kid. We need to talk."

  I cursed, out loud. He wasn’t going to get it, or he was going to play dumb, until I came out and said it plainly. Even then, I knew he was just baiting me, because there was no way he would approach me out of nowhere without some idea of what I'd been doing; but I wasn’t in the mood to play.

  "I can't. Not in the middle of the friggin’ street and not in broad daylight."

  As if I didn’t have enough problems. I hadn't left my stalker so far behind that he couldn’t walk the distance and find me standing next to a federal agent. Belt wasn’t obvious about it, he was dressed like every other casual bystander, but I was trying to be overcautious again.

  "And why not. It’s not like you and I are strangers."

  I sighed, defeated. "Because. My dad's life is in danger if I'm caught talking to you."

  I expected him to immediately start in on the questions, questions I would have to evade or rebuff. I frowned at him when he didn’t, suddenly going quiet. Then he got that look in his eyes, the same one he had when police raided my home to find my dad and I was there and only fifteen; that pitying look that annoyed me even though I was a frightened kid with no idea what was going on.

  "I'm sorry kid," Belt stated.

  I stared, confused. Then I blinked. What the hell?

  "What for?"

  I could hear the hollow ringing in my ears again, and I thought my eyesight was going out of focus. It could not be what I was thinking. I was either jumping to conclusions or he was playing with me. He had to be.

  And then he opened his mouth and told me the last words I needed to hear.

  "I'm afraid it's too late for that, son. He's dead," he continued.

  Chapter 8

  Destiny

  I woke up with a bad feeling. It wasn’t quite a nightmare, wasn’t quite a premonition, but it made my chest constrict with anxiety, and I was shaking like I hadn't in a long time.

  The feeling only grew worse when I went around the suite and realized Alex must have stepped out. Then I found the note, left on the kitche
n counter, held down by an upside down, clean mug. He'd left me some coffee in the machine, and I poured some before I made myself read the note.

  I wasn’t surprised by what was on it. Meeting clients was pretty much all he'd left the room for, but he'd let me sleep instead of asking me to go along. I appreciated the courtesy, but he should have woken me up anyway.

  I crumpled the note in my fist and threw it in the trash as I went to the living room. I sat down on the couch with my cup of coffee to drink, and tried to pretend nothing was wrong.

  It didn’t work, not for long anyway.

  I at least managed to finish my coffee before I shot up off the couch, pacing in the small living space. Hell, it might have been a bad idea to drink it at all because I suddenly felt jittery; my thoughts were moving at a faster pace than my feet.

  I'd made a discovery sometime in my sleep, and I was waiting for my mind to discount it and leave it in the land of nightmares. Nothing I could think of would make it impossible, though.

  I didn’t think I was wrong. Because Angelo's attitude when I met him last night, had been way different from what I'd been expecting. Not to mention what I overheard, how unconcerned he acted. I didn’t have any insight to what he and his dad had planned, or maybe it was just him, but I didn’t think he intended to inform his dad of the 'accident' considering he'd asked to have it covered up.

  That didn’t bode well for Alex. Or me, really.

  But especially Alex.

  Alex's dad was dead, the man they used to leverage his hand. Alex, who they were blackmailing to get him to swindle money from bettors in exchange for his dad's life; and me, somehow mixed up in it all, even though it had nothing to do with me. I'd heard Angelo and his man talking, but he hadn't done anything. I knew he was suspicious of me, or was he so sure of himself that I would keep my mouth shut? Or he just didn’t care if I did or not.

  How did anything in that scenario even make sense? It didn’t, not enough, and that’s why it worried me.

  Crap. Of course, they were gonna screw us over. They were mafia. Angelo's sudden turnaround attitude pretty much cinched it for me. He just wasn't that sugary-sweet; not unless something pleased him, usually a deal that went far beyond his initial expectations.

  Hell, Alex was far enough into the job that he was about to hit his goal. He didn’t even need me for it anymore. I was nothing more than an ornament, an unneeded one. I'd outgrown my usefulness to Angelo quite a while back. He'd never outright said it, but the signs spoke loud and clear. With the deal with Alex nearly finalized, I had no real hope that anything would change.

  Alex was useful in plenty of ways, but me… I wasn’t even a good scapegoat.

  I'd hoped, when Angelo approached me and asked me to stick near Alex, that I would become useful to him again. Or maybe find a way to get away from Angelo and the unwanted life I somehow found myself in—the life I fell into because of greed.

  I didn’t think that there was a chance of being useful to Angelo anymore. Even if there was a chance, I didn’t want it by helping them screw Alex over. But I was probably just flattering myself, thinking I would be included.

  I was an accessory they no longer needed. They'd more than likely kill me; and I wasn’t ready to die.

  Fuck.

  I suddenly lost the feeling in my legs, and I let my body fall back into the couch. I felt cold, but I didn’t think I could make it to the bedroom to get something. I ended up sleeping in the large T-shirt, and I curled my limbs under it for warmth as my body trembled. More than just cold, though, I felt fear.

  What the hell was I going to do? It wasn’t like I had money; I'd quit my job ages ago and Angelo provided for me. All I had was more expensive jewels, clothes, and perfumes than I knew what to do with. I still had my bank account, the one my parents set up for me when I was a senior in high school, but I hadn't thought to access it since they sent me off to college. I didn’t know if they could make sure I wouldn't have access to it anymore.

  As for cash in hand, I only had a few bills from the last allowance I got, but it wasn’t much, even though I'd used it sparingly.

  Should I run away? The money wouldn’t get me far, but surely further from Angelo would be good enough? Maybe if I ran off and hid, he wouldn’t even bother looking for me. I wasn’t necessary to him, so he'd probably just be glad to be rid of the nuisance.

  The idea to run was looking good to me by the second. Once I finished this job for him, I was sure he'd kill me. He could have someone else do it, or even do it himself; I didn’t think he'd have any qualms with it. He'd probably relish it. Hell, with Alex so close, he might not even wait until then.

  Sudden urgency gripped my chest at the thought. I wanted out. Now.

  Riding on that urgency, I shot up off the couch, my sudden determination giving me strength. I ran for the bedroom and threw open the closet door. I grabbed a change of clothes; a pair of jeans, a plain T-shirt and a jacket. I dropped them on the bed and ran to the bathroom to take a quick shower. I tried to be quick and thorough, since I didn’t know when I would have the chance again.

  Where would I even go? How far would be far enough to get away from Angelo and his father's reach? I'd have to leave Chicago. I would need extra money for that. The only other person I could think of to go to for money was Zoe, but I was hesitant to trust her after her last visit.

  There was Alex… but why would he help me? As far as he cared, I was affiliated with the men making his life hell, he'd probably be glad to be rid of me, too.

  I had to try and access my personal account. I hoped my parents hadn't completely written me off.

  I was done getting dressed in ten minutes. I found an old backpack with my stuff in the back of the closet. When I went to Angelo, everything I'd owned of value fit into it. Most of my original documents were still inside; what wasn’t, I could probably live without.

  I couldn’t take the expensive clothes; I only grabbed some underwear, jeans, and a couple of T-shirts. Whatever room was left, I filled with all the jewelry and accessories I got from Angelo. If I couldn’t get the money, or if it wasn’t enough, I'd sell them all for extra cash.

  Then I raided the kitchen. There wasn’t much left, but there were a couple of protein bars that I added into the bag, along with a few other snacks and a bottle of water.

  The bag didn’t look too stuffed, but I still felt nervous as I left the room with it. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I expected to be stopped. But I made it to the lobby just fine, the concierge at the door even smiled as he opened the door for me. I smiled back, trying to act natural, keeping my movements unhurried.

  I felt relieved the further I got from the hotel, but I knew better than to think I was in the clear yet. I thought of taking a cab, but figured it would be more prudent to take the subway. It would be cheaper, and I had to start thinking seriously about cost. First, I had to get to the bank, and hope I could access my account. If that didn’t work out, then I'd have to think of something else.

  I hadn't gone far when I nearly bumped into someone. I looked up, fearful, but I didn't know him.

  "I'm sorry, please excuse me."

  I went to go around him, but he got in my way. My heart was beating too fast again; I tried to go around him, and again he stood in the way.

  I stepped back, feeling sick to my stomach. Was he with Angelo? I'd been with him a while but there were plenty of people working for him that I still didn’t know.

  "What do you want?" I demanded.

  "Nothing. Just wondering where you're going," he said.

  I swallowed, my nerves stretched too tight for me to be able to keep up my bravado. "That's none of your business," I managed to get past my throat, but it sounded shaky.

  "What about Alex? Is it his business?" the man continued.

  My head shot up when he mentioned Alex. Only a few select people even knew about him, his affiliation with Angelo and what he was doing for them. Even fewer knew that I'd been put with him on the job, may
be the babysitter they got to occasionally tag after us, and one other guy.

  I suddenly didn’t think he was with Angelo. A rival maybe? Or a cop. It could be either way, and neither one was particularly good for me. I had a feeling he wouldn't just let me go without hassle, and I didn’t need to make a scene to attract attention to myself. I dropped my head; to just anyone it would be like I was looking down, but it was more of a covert nod. I looked up and met his eyes. He'd understood.

  He glanced around, sliding to stand beside me and taking my elbow.

  "Come with me."

  It was a low murmur, close to my ear, but I didn’t think he was asking. It went against the grain, letting him drag me along, but then I'd been letting men do that for a while. He didn't take me anywhere suspicious, though, his arm slipping behind my back to direct me down the street. We walked for about a block, then went into a tiny, out-of-the-way café that surprisingly had a lot of people.

  He directed me to a seat in the back as he went to the counter. I could have taken the chance, turned and ran with his back turned away. He would have expected me to think of it. Was he showing some trust, or did he think I was too scared to take the chance?

  He wouldn’t be wrong.

  I went to take my seat, setting my bag at my feet, and waited. I stared blankly at the table top, tracing patterns with my eyes as I tried not to think. I looked up when the seat opposite mine suddenly moved. He set down two paper cups and two brown bags, sliding half the stash my way.

  I expected coffee, but what I got was tea. I took a sip of it anyway. The bag held a sugar filled pastry, but I didn’t think I could eat it, so I set it aside.

  "Who are you?" I asked, tired of the silence.

  He didn’t even stop eating, freeing one hand so he could pull something from his pocket. He flipped it open and slid it along the table so I could see, being discreet about it.

  I felt a new kind of fear as I saw the badge. He pulled it away and put it back, calmly taking a sip of his tea.