Franklin: A Boston Mafia Romance (The Boston Wolfes)

by Billie Lustig

  “Yeah, it is. I did kill that boy,” I counter.

  “But not for the reason he thinks. He doesn’t even know the truth.”

  “He never asked.” I shrug. “And you’re not telling him.” I point my whiskey glass at him with a scowl. “I don’t want his pity or regret unless he finds it out himself.”

  “How will he ever find out if no one tells him?”

  “I will tell him if he wants to know, but he has to ask. Not just jump to conclusions.”

  “You know he wasn’t going to leave Boston anyway, right?” A knowing smile stretches his face, making me chuckle in response.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “So why the bar, Franklin?”

  I look at my brother as he waits for my answer. He’s the only one I discuss business with, simply because he’s as cunning as I am. He sees the bigger picture in everything I do. In fact, he’s my primary confidant when it comes to our businesses.

  “It’s time, Kill.” He frowns. “We need more money.”

  “We have a shitload of money. Buying a bar isn’t going to make us the big bucks.” He tilts his head skeptically before taking a sip of his drink.

  “We have a shitload of money stashed around the city, but it’s black. It’s time to turn that around. I want out. I want your children, Reign’s children, and Connor’s children, to never have to worry about money. I want to build a legacy. This,” I wave my hand in the air, “is the first stone in that plan.”

  “What about your children?”

  The corner of my mouth curls into a slight smile at his comment.

  “I’m not ever having children,” I state with finality, even though Kendall’s face flashes in front of my eyes for a split second. Growing up as the eldest in the Wolfe family gave me enough reason to never want to father any children. I’m a selfish bastard, but not that selfish.

  “Not even with Kendall?”

  “Not even with Kendall,” I retort.

  “Don’t let her hear that,” Killian suggests, bringing his glass to his lips once more.

  “Why?”

  “You know women,” he scoffs. “Once they know they’re more than a fuck buddy, they start thinking about the next step.”

  His words make me frown while processing them. Kendall and I haven’t talked about what we are, or aren’t, but I can’t deny she’s more than someone to release the tension. She’s got me hooked, craving more of her every day. But is there a future for us? I don’t know. I’ve never imagined myself sharing my life with a woman. My life has always been preoccupied with making sure my brothers have everything they need. That’s what has been driving me since the day our mom died and our father bailed, and I’ve never planned on changing that.

  “You know I’m right,” he continues, while I worry my lower lip.

  “We are not serious.”

  “Right.” He dramatically rolls his eyes. “You’ve been with her every single night for the last few weeks. Not just sleeping with her, but actually sleeping with her. Waking up with her every morning. You can tell yourself you’re not serious with her, but you are. Is she coming to my party Sunday?”

  I nod, my defenses rising when I see annoyance in his eyes.

  “You still don’t like her?”

  He turns his head towards me, a stern look on his face before he softly starts to shake his head.

  “I never said I didn’t like her. I don’t trust her.”

  “Same thing. But you haven’t told me anything to back up your feelings.”

  “I haven’t heard anything from the private investigator yet.”

  “You hired a PI?” I ask, confused. “Why didn’t you ask Reign?”

  “He likes her. He’s biased. And you know him, he’s stubborn as fuck. Like you.”

  He does like her, that’s been clear since the first day he met her.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s why we are the way we are. We’re too much alike.”

  “You know this could go on until one of you is dead, right?” he points out, referring to the troubled relationship between Reign and me, which bothers him as much as it does me.

  I nod in agreement.

  I know. Of course, I know. I just hope it won’t come to that.

  Twenty-Two

  Kendall

  My phone rings, and I look up to see my brother’s name on the caller ID. With the corner of my lips curling up, I answer as I look at my outfit in the mirror.

  “Hey, James.”

  “Hey, Kenny. How’s my little sis?”

  “I’m good. Trying to focus on my last exam, but work has been keeping me busier than expected.”

  “You shouldn’t be working nights at that bar anymore now that you’re so close to graduating.”

  “Yeah,” I start with hesitation, “I’m not working at The Library anymore.”

  “You’re not?” he asks with surprise in his tone.

  “No, I got a new job as an accountant with a local company.”

  “I thought you didn’t want a day job? Said it would screw with your studies?” The disapproval in his voice is indisputable, and I can imagine the worried frown on his forehead I always tease him about.

  “Yeah, well, the owner made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Besides, I’m graduating soon. I just have to work a little harder for the next few weeks. It will be fine.”

  “If you say so. Just don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

  “I won’t.” I smile at myself in the mirror. “I’ve gotta go now. I’m going out with Josie.”

  I don’t want to lie to my brother, but being his little sister, he’d just interrogate me if I told him the truth. And I’m not feeling confident enough to have that conversation.

  “Have fun, Kenny. Talk later. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I throw my phone on the bed before doing another twirl in front of the mirror.

  Around four, Franklin sent me a text telling me to wear something nice and to be ready by seven. I freaked out, texting him back, asking ‘how nice?’ but the asshole never responded. So here I am, looking in the mirror for the fiftieth time, wondering if this is nice enough. My little black dress hugs my hips, and I’ve put my hair in a long braid that hangs beside my neck. I’m moving my body around to make sure I look good from all angles when I spot Josie leaning against the doorway of my room.

  “You sure seem to care a lot,” she says, judgment dripping from her words.

  My eyes find hers in the mirror, and seeing the censure in her eyes, my annoyance instantly spikes.

  “I’m going out to dinner, I want to look nice.”

  “You’re trying very hard.”

  “At what?” I snap my head towards her with a glare. “Making Boston’s biggest criminal fall in love with me so my ex-boyfriend won’t hurt my family? Wouldn’t you, Josie?”

  “I’m just saying you should keep your feelings out of it,” she says.

  What the fuck is she worried about? It’s not like it’s her family that’s on the line.

  Or her fucking life.

  “I know, Josie,” I emphasize, while I blow out a frustrated breath.

  “Do you? Because you keep swooning over him, you haven’t slept at home in the last two weeks, and you’re all giddy when you see him.”

  “What the fuck is your problem? You said, ‘put on the show of your life.’ I’m putting on the show of my life, and now you’re bitching about my doing what you told me to do?”

  “You’re falling for him,” she states, her fists planted on her hips. “That’s bad, Kenny. I’m worried about you. Feelings will cloud your judgment.”

  Everything about her, the way she’s looking at me, the way she’s standing, her words … it’s all annoying me.

  “What are you talking about, Josie? This is my brother we are talking about. My family. Nothing is going to cloud my judgment. Why would you even say that?”

  As if she knows how I feel.

  As if she knows how fucked I am.
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  She doesn’t.

  For her this is an easy fix. Not only is one half of her heart made out of ice, the other half is buried behind a stone wall. She vowed to never fall in love, and so far, she has done a bang-up job.

  Josie is the type of girl who will easily tell a guy she’s done with him after a few fucks, and who will ask a guy to leave once she’s squeezed a few orgasms out of him.

  I’ve always loved her brutal honesty, her fearless ability to tell people to fuck off. She will never let anyone take advantage of her, and I admire her for that.

  But where her heart protects her from feeling anything, mine has always felt too much. I’ve struggled my entire life to say no to the people close to me, simply because I sympathize too much. Or empathize. Both, maybe. What I mean is, if you are my family or I consider you my friend, I will move mountains for you. Even if it’s at my own expense.

  “I’m just saying it for you,” she murmurs, her face softening, though I can still see some frustration in her eyes. “This is Emerson we’re talking about. We’ve seen him torture people for fun. I just want to make sure that you’re aware of that.”

  She gets closer and offers me a tight smile while I take a few deep breaths to try to lower my irritation. I know she means well, but I don’t like how she’s talking to me, as if I don’t know Emerson better than anyone.

  I do.

  She forgets I spent too many years of my life with him. I know him inside and out, the good and the bad and definitely the ugly. Yes, we all grew up together. But while she was the best friend with an opinion, I was always the one by Emerson’s side. Witnessing his every move.

  I scratch my head as I stare back at her in the mirror.

  “I know. Trust me, Josie. I know.”

  “So you’re not falling for him?”

  My instant reaction is to snap and say, ‘What the fuck does it matter?’ But my gut is telling me to not even go there. She probably won’t understand and will do her best to talk me out of it. But the truth is … I do. I am falling for him, and it feels like a train wreck waiting to happen. Every moment I spend with him I’m happy, having fun until I go home and realize that no matter what happens, my heart will end up in pieces. My heart is fucked either way, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  “I’m not falling for him,” I lie, turning around to grab my black clutch off the bed.

  “Good. Because I don’t want Emerson to hurt you.” She purses her lips while softly nodding her head. “You deserve a nice guy giving you a boring and happy life, not being caught in the middle of a criminal war.”

  Before I can give her words any more thought, my phone starts ringing with Franklin’s name on the screen.

  “Hey.”

  “I’m downstairs, pretty girl.”

  “Alright,” I reply with a smile. “I’ll be right there.” I put my phone in my clutch before turning back to Josie. “I have to go.”

  “Alright, good luck,” she says before she gives me a small smile, which I return with my own. The tension is thick and hanging between us like a curtain, separating us with a wall of courtesy. I hate these kinds of situations. I hate confrontation most of the time, but even though I’m not as fierce or badass as Josie, I’m also sick of being talked to like I’m a little girl. Like I’m still a naïve, seventeen-year-old teenager.

  I’m fucking twenty-five years old, and even though my life choices may not always result in me having the best situations or experiences in life, I’m not fucking stupid.

  I wish everyone would stop pretending like I am.

  “Bye, girl. Don’t wait up.” Without waiting for her reaction, I walk out of my room, grab my jacket, and head out the front door. When I step outside, I’m greeted by the brisk air of night and the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.

  I’ve been spending the last few weeks with him, so I shouldn’t be captivated by his hungry looks anymore, but I still am. He also still has me gasping for air whenever his eyes peruse my body. His smoldering looks burn me now while he shamelessly assesses every single piece of me with his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants.

  His brown hair is perfectly styled with his short bangs up, and he’s wearing a gray dress shirt covered by a black vest that hugs his hard rock abs.

  I freeze a few yards in front of him, hypnotized by the smoldering look on his face, my pulse quickening. I gift him with a tender smile before he closes the distance between us and circles his arms around my waist.

  He keeps his lips pressed together as he pushes out a long breath through his nose.

  “You look amazing, baby.”

  “Thank you,” I answer before he leans in and sets his warm lips on mine. He softly pushes me back, making me arch my back as he slowly dips me. When I’m completely surrendered in his arms, I let out a playful screech before he straightens my back again.

  “Where are we going?” I ask after he grabs my hand and leads me into the car, taking the seat next to me.

  “One of my favorite restaurants.”

  Ten minutes later, we arrive at the Boston Harbor Hotel. When we exit the car, he links his fingers with mine, escorting me into the gorgeous restaurant. The hostess leads us to a private corner of the waterfront deck that is sheltered by a few plants, giving us the perfect view of the luxurious boats yet also giving us the privacy Franklin always craves.

  “Wow, this is amazing.” I look around in awe as Franklin helps me take a seat at the extravagantly set table before sitting down himself.

  It’s endearing and both unexpected to know that this man is the most powerful man in this city, yet he’s also the one to show me chivalry isn’t dead.

  Not in Franklin Wolfe’s book.

  “Glad you like it, pretty girl.” Before he can say more, his phone starts ringing. He reaches into his pocket, then answers with a growl that makes me chuckle.

  “Not a good time, Connor.”

  He listens to his brother on the other end of the phone while his meadow green eyes stay focused on mine. I bite my lip while goosebumps shower my body.

  “Throw the papers on my desk, and I’ll check them out in the morning. Don’t call unless it’s an emergency, you tool.” He ends the call then tucks the phone back in his pocket, the corners of his mouth rising. “Sorry about that.”

  I incline my head as I take him in with a pleased look on my face.

  “What?”

  “People say you don’t care about anything but the power you have over this city,” I explain.

  “Is that what they say about me?”

  I nod my head.

  “Oh, yeah. Franklin Wolfe, the man who rules Boston with his persuasive ways, supposedly fair and just, but don’t piss him off or he will bite your head off like the Wolfe he is.”

  He throws his head back and lets out an amused chuckle before shaking his head.

  “Who told you this shit?”

  “Josie.”

  “Josie?”

  “And the women in the bakery.” I set my napkin on my lap, fighting to keep a straight face.

  He narrows his eyes on me and leans forward a bit, pinning me with his eyes while I suppress a grin.

  “Do you believe the women at the bakery?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I admit, “they’re not wrong. You can be very persuasive, just, and fair. But I’ve yet to see you bite someone’s head off, and the way you are with your brothers makes me believe you aren’t the violent type.”

  “Why is that?” he asks, his eyebrow creeping towards his hairline in surprise.

  “Because you love them more than you love yourself. I see it in the way you talk to them; you bitch at them, but you also cater to them. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for your brothers, so I have a hard time believing someone who can love so deeply, sibling or not, is capable of being a ruthless criminal who bites people’s heads off.”

  He lets out a deep breath before he looks at me with satisfaction, as if he’s relieved someone finally sees the real him. Ho
pefully considering letting his walls down for me just a little bit more. But as fast as I see that, he changes his expression and replaces it with a stern gaze.

  “Don’t get things confused, Kendall. You are right. My brothers are the most important thing to me, and there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for them. Period. I try to be an honest man, always trying to give the people around me options, and I do try to prevent violence if I can simply because my upbringing provided me with enough violence for a lifetime. But make no mistake. I’m not a good man. If you push my buttons, I will push back.” His pupils dilate, and it’s the first time that he causes a hint of fear to enter my body. As if he’s showing me the side of him he has been hiding up until now, showing me a glimpse of the man I will be up against if I keep walking the path I’m on.

  “I’ve hurt people,” he continues, clearly trying to shock me and surprising me with his honesty. “I’ve killed people. I’ve done things that are not worth repeating and things I will never talk about.” He gets a little closer as he leans on his forearms, his look softening again, showing me the man I’ve been spending most of my time with. “I am the man you’ve been seeing for the last few weeks, but that doesn’t mean I’m not the man the city says I am, too. I am both.” He locks me in his stare, unmoving, while he waits for my response. The truth is, I don’t know what to say because he just confirmed everything I already felt in my heart. He’s right, he really has two sides. Just like I do.

  This makes me think about Emerson, leaving me wondering who really is the greater evil.

  Franklin Wolfe is not the first man walking on the dark side of life to hold my attention. Emerson introduced me to the other side of the law when I was sixteen, and even though I didn’t have the confidence the rest of my friends had, I can’t deny that I always loved the thrill. I loved to push boundaries; I think that’s what drew me to Emerson. Life was exciting with him, even when the excitement included me being bruised and beaten up. I have a soft spot for men who defy authority, and in a way, I guess I like to defy it too. But where Emerson has always looked at me through a set of eyes provided by the devil himself—glaring, cold, and ominous, always keeping me on edge—Franklin is nothing like that.