Mafia Romance

by Aleatha Romig, Skye Warren, Annika Martin, Natasha Knight, Kaye Blue, Michelle St. James, Renee Rose, Parker S. Huntington, Alexis Abbott, Willow Winters

  My lips curled upward, thinking how I’d grown accustomed to the routine. There was something about her I found comforting. Her stories were as repeated as her menu. I supposed not having family or a grandmother of my own, I enjoyed her company more than another woman my age would.

  My chest hurt as I imagined telling her I would be going away. I wasn’t ready to do that as I tiptoed by. Within a minute, I was atop the stairs and unlocking my door.

  Pushing open the door, I peered inside the darkened apartment.

  Everything was just as I’d left it.

  Collapsing on my bed, I typed out a quick text to Louisa.

  “HOME NOW AND OFF TO SLEEP. HAD A SLIGHT DELAY, BUT ALL IS GOOD. I’LL FILL YOU IN TONIGHT IF YOU HAVE TIME FOR DINNER. LET ME KNOW YOUR SCHEDULE.”

  Did I need to tell Patrick I was home? And why did I even think of that?

  I’d met Sparrow less than twenty-four hours ago and already he was affecting my everyday thoughts. Since Patrick had been the one to hire the driver who’d delivered me to my apartment, my guess was that not only did he know that I was now safely home, but so did Sparrow.

  I turned off my phone.

  Kennedy 11

  I wrung my hands under the table as I stretched my lips into a smile. Across the table, staring intently my direction was Louisa, her back periodically arching and tummy protruding as she tried to make herself comfortable. The fact that she’d asked me to meet her at the same restaurant where she and Jason were dining in the picture Sparrow had given me made this all the more difficult.

  “You know, I keep craving this restaurant,” she said. “They need to keep a table open for me until this baby arrives.”

  “When was the last time you were here?” I asked.

  “Jason and I were here…” She hummed in thought. “…I think it was Wednesday night.”

  I’d been right that the photograph was recent. It had been taken the day before it was given to me.

  “So you got a weird vibe from Franco?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she lifted her water to her lips. “I’m always so thirsty. I hope that’s normal.”

  “Honey, I don’t know what’s normal. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I wish I could sleep better.”

  I knew the feeling. I’d fallen asleep on and off on the planes, and then when I first made it back to my apartment. That was until a few hours later when the driver—I couldn’t recall her name—knocked on the door with my luggage from the flight. I couldn’t wait to look inside to ensure that nothing had stayed behind in my hotel room. Since even the safe had been emptied—which still freaked me out—I hoped I wouldn’t be disappointed. As it turned out, everything was present and more. In the pocket inside my suitcase was another photograph, this time of Louisa’s parents with her younger sister, Lindsey. They were walking together on a sidewalk in front of buildings that I didn’t recognize.

  “Hey,” I asked, hoping my question sounded casual, “how is Lindsey doing?”

  “Oh, you know, busy with college, her job, and guys. I think most of her time goes to guys—plural, settling down isn’t her thing—rather than the real work. Her classes don’t start again until fall term.”

  Something about the picture in my suitcase came to mind. Lindsey was about to start her junior year at Boston College. Their parents lived in a stately home in Superior, Colorado, halfway between Boulder and Denver.

  “Gosh, she hasn’t been home since Christmas.”

  In the picture, the three of them were all together. They were wearing short sleeves, and on the sidewalk, there was a tree with leaves. Definitely not Colorado in the winter.

  “No,” Louisa said, “but she plans to come back before classes start to meet her niece or nephew.”

  “That’s great. I know you miss her. From December until now seems like a long time for Lucy.” Lucy was their mother and had stepped in as my surrogate on needed occasions. Sometimes it’s nice to have a mom, even when you don’t. I always wished I’d told her that before I got out of the car.

  “Didn’t I tell you?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Mom and Dad went to Boston. They’re there right now.”

  A spittle of tea flew from my lips as I choked on my drink.

  Louisa went on, “Jeez, Kenni, are you all right?”

  “Sorry,” I said, reaching for my napkin and cleaning the table.

  “Yes, they’ve been there for a few days. Mom wanted to go see Lindsey before the baby arrives. I’m sure you know she won’t be leaving…” Louisa rolled her eyes. “…probably my house for the next ten years after the baby’s born.”

  “She just wants to help.” I couldn’t stop thinking about the picture as my blood chilled. Sterling had people watching everyone I loved.

  “I’m sure I’ll appreciate it.”

  “You know, I told you everything was good in Chicago?”

  “Yes, but now you’re saying you’re worried about Franco.”

  “I am. I think I might need to go back there for a little while.”

  “What? You always said you’d never go there. I figured that was why you came home so fast. And now you’re saying you’re going back?”

  My lower lip momentarily went between my teeth as I contemplated the million different stories I’d tried to concoct. I didn’t want to go back. I sure as hell didn’t want to stay in Chicago and definitely not with him. However, Sterling Sparrow was making it abundantly clear that my compliance had a direct correlation to the safety of the people I loved. Protecting them, perhaps at the risk of my own safety, wasn’t even a choice as I looked at my eight-month-pregnant best friend. Besides, there was more. He had something I couldn’t forget. He had information about me—secrets I thought disappeared when my mother drove away.

  My decision to comply had dominated my thoughts since our impromptu meeting and what happened in Wichita. The tone of his voice on that call, even the memory of it, sent shivers down my spine and through my entire body as the small hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. In one short meeting, I’d assessed that he had power and had no problem wielding it.

  His power had the ability to direct or influence those around him. And yet it seemed by his tone on that call that his power could also be unstable and volatile, like a volcano on the brink of eruption when pushed the right direction. In that call, for no reason that I could surmise, he sounded worried about my safety. At first. I didn’t realize the insight he’d given me. The pictures were his way of capitalizing on my weakness—my love for Louisa and her family.

  I would go back to Chicago.

  Not to stay but to learn.

  And while I was there, I would capitalize on what seemed to be his weakness—me.

  “I don’t want to worry you,” I said. “The move won’t be for forever or even for a long time for that matter. I love being here with you. I just think that for Sinful Threads we can do more with division. You know, divide and conquer.”

  Her nose scrunched. “But what about the designs? I’m going to be a little preoccupied…” She rubbed her midsection.

  I lifted my hand.

  Although I was not certain how the future would work, I did know that Sparrow wouldn’t be the only one to make demands. I had them too. “We will Skype or FaceTime. I’ll be in contact with our designers. The only thing I can’t do from Chicago is run the silk through my fingers. However, as long as everything is well with our material shipments, the designs will be fine. The prototypes can be overnighted to me. It will work.”

  Louisa shook her head. “I don’t understand your change of heart.”

  “It’s not a change of heart. It’s about what’s best for Sinful Threads.”

  Her eyes grew glossy. “What about me? I want you here with little Kennedy.”

  I forced a smile. “You won’t be able to keep me away.”

  My list of demands was growing. Mr. Sparrow and I needed to have a talk.

  Kennedy 12

&
nbsp; The call rang twice before the growingly familiar voice answered. “Ms. Hawkins.”

  “Patrick,” I said into my phone. “I need to talk to him. I want to talk to him—now.” I’d waited two days since my dinner with Louisa to call. I wanted to be certain of my demands before I wasted my chance to voice them.

  “Him?” Patrick asked.

  “Are you really going to act like you don’t know to whom I’m referring?”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m certain I know. He’s not available at the moment.”

  “He’s not available because he’s not with you or because he isn’t used to having someone tell him what to do?”

  “I will inform him of your request.” His tone sounded amused.

  “No, Patrick. Inform him that I’m waiting for his call, and I expect it this evening. This isn’t a request.”

  “I will relay the message.”

  “This evening,” I repeated before disconnecting the call and letting out an exaggerated breath. I tossed my phone onto the couch, watching it bounce over the cushions.

  Did I hear Patrick smile? Is that even possible?

  I didn’t find my demand amusing.

  Infuriating was what this was. Sparrow actually expected me to submit to his orders and move across the country and live with a man I didn’t even know?

  Yes. That was what he expected.

  He expected more—my compliance to his every order.

  Don’t search for more information. All of your devices are monitored.

  Tell me your name. In time.

  Well, fuck you, Sparrow.

  I knew his name. And since learning that, I’d learned more.

  On Saturday, I’d gone to the local library and using one of their computers, searched Sterling Sparrow. While I was tempted to search McCrie, technically that was the search he told me not to do. He never said I couldn’t search for information on him.

  The picture that filled the screen confirmed his identity, complete with the dark stare I remembered and was now seeing in my dreams—or were they nightmares? I found myself falling down a rabbit hole of information, not at all what I’d imagined. I expected mobster or mafia, as Louisa had alluded to before I left. That wasn’t what I found. Then again, I don’t think that information was something people listed on their LinkedIn page.

  Sterling Sparrow: kingpin.

  Nope.

  The information that popped up surprised as well as intrigued me.

  A military veteran and University of Michigan graduate, Sterling Sparrow was listed as CEO of Sparrow Enterprises, one of the top real estate developers in Chicago and beyond. Sparrow Enterprises was built by Sterling’s father, Allister, reportedly beginning with family money from Sterling’s mother. One article mentioned speculations of Sterling’s political aspirations, yet from all I read, those were unconfirmed rumors. According to another article, those speculations were because of his father. It stated that Sterling was following in his father’s footsteps. The older Sparrow had not only owned property all over the world, but prior to his death had begun a campaign to run for the mayor of Chicago. With his money and connections, the columnist believed that Allister Sparrow would have been a shoo-in, until his unfortunate accident ended his life. There were rumors of a hit by his political adversaries; however, the official investigation ruled his death a tragic mishap, occurring at a construction site on one of his many properties.

  The death of her husband hadn’t stopped Sterling’s mother, Genevieve, from maintaining her newsworthy, elite Chicago status. As a member of numerous influential boards and commissions, as well as an alderman on the City Council, she was well-known for assisting the family business by influencing everything from planning to zoning. She and Allister had been considered to be among the city’s uncrowned royalty. Sterling was now well-established in that rank.

  All of my research confirmed my suspicions: Sterling Sparrow was wealthy, influential, and powerful. What I couldn’t understand was if that were true, why the hell couldn’t he find a woman the normal way? Why did he want me? What was I to him?

  Basically, my research gleaned information that instead of bringing me answers raised more questions.

  In my mind, as the days passed, my agreeing to his demands had less to do with his threats of people who I loved and more to do with the realization that Sterling Sparrow was the only person capable or somewhat willing to give me answers. He’d already given me more than I had previously known.

  I stared down again at my phone. Something told me that he wasn’t accustomed to being told what to do. Would he call? “Come on, Mr. Great and Powerful Sparrow. You like giving orders. Can you follow them as well?”

  I paced the length of my living room, taking in the familiar four walls and the closed curtains keeping the rest of Boulder from seeing inside. I’d lived in this apartment for over two years, moving in after the breakup of my only long-term relationship.

  The walls were dotted with art and photographs. The leather sofa was worn where I usually sat. This was my home. I didn’t want to leave it. I scoffed. Obviously, I hadn’t made any attempts to do so. After all, it was Monday night, and I had nothing packed. I’d spent more time at the office than I had at home. My work would need to travel with me, not my personal belongings. It was as if packing were an outward sign of surrender.

  Sterling Sparrow didn’t know me. I wasn’t the white-flag type of woman.

  My decision to go ahead with this ridiculous plan was temporary. I would be back. There was no need to pack all my possessions. Each day I’d received another message. Yesterday’s was a bouquet of flowers delivered to the office with a card devoid of the sender’s name. It only read two words: In time.

  I’d wadded the card in a ball and thrown it into the trash just as Louisa peeked her head around the doorframe. “Secret admirer?”

  “Funny.”

  “Well, it’s not your birthday.”

  “The card didn’t have a name. I bet it’s one of the companies trying to get our business.”

  “Probably from someone who was at the party in Chicago.”

  “Why would you say that?” I asked.

  “Maybe because the orders for the dress you wore are through the roof. I can’t wait to showcase the other styles our designers are dreaming up.”

  I was glad to hear something good came from my trip to Chicago.

  And then today, there was the special delivery of a Sinful Thread scarf. That wouldn’t have seemed odd except that particular scarf had not yet been launched. The only inventory was in our chaos room.

  Sparrow’s packages and messages kept him forefront in my mind. Over and over, I replayed the meeting in the office. Each time, the threats faded as I recalled the way my insides twisted when his hard body pressed against me and the aura of control surrounding him, hiding him in a fog of mixed emotions.

  I shouldn’t find that attractive, yet I did.

  No. Attraction was not the reason I would return to Chicago. What made his proposal even consideration-worthy was not the idea of what it would be like to be with him. It was his promise that he could tell me about myself. At twenty-six years of age, I was being offered the chance to learn my own secrets.

  I poured myself a glass of wine and resumed my pacing.

  A million questions cycloned through my thoughts when the ringing of my phone brought me back to reality, causing me to jump. For a moment I stared, shocked that it was ringing, wondering if it was really him.

  The screen glowed, but Patrick’s name wasn’t there. Instead it read BLOCKED NUMBER.

  Taking a deep breath, I answered, “Hello.”

  “Araneae.”

  The sound of that name and the tenor of his voice rumbled through me.

  “I-I wasn’t sure you would call.” Damn nerves.

  A deep chuckle added thunder to the rumbling within me. With only his voice, he could brew a storm of emotions.

  “I have questions and demands,” I said, attempting
to assert some control.

  “Interesting. I would expect questions. We’ll have plenty of time to answer those once you’re here.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not going to be there, not without the answers first.”

  “It isn’t that easy.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said, falling back onto the couch. “I decide if I get on that plane or not. I need more than threats before I make that move.”

  “The safety of your friends and business is no longer your concern?”

  “Of course, it is. That’s not what I mean.”

  “Then by all means, explain.”

  “I need more.”

  “I’ve already given you more,” he said. “I’ve given you your name. Now it’s my turn to receive, and I will on Wednesday night.”

  The confidence in his voice twisted my insides, almost enough to convince me that he was right. Almost.

  “I have demands.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. “First, I will be in daily contact with Louisa. This may be by phone or FaceTime. I will not give up my best friend and business partner. I will also be involved in the day-to-day operations of Sinful Threads, and lastly, I will not be held prisoner. I will come and go as I want, including returning here as needed.”

  I waited while the phone against my ear remained silent. Finally, I asked, “Are you still there?”

  “Is that all?” he asked.

  “All?”

  “Is there more?”

  “Those were…” I said. “…well, will you honor those?”

  “You see, I was right.” His voice had changed. No longer a storm, it was now smooth as Sinful Threads silk.

  “About?”

  “You, Araneae. Your concerns are centered on others instead of yourself. That flaw is beautiful and selfless and why you need to be here.”

  “It’s not a flaw to think of others.”

  “It is if it’s at your own expense.”

  “So I should tell you to go fuck yourself?” I asked, my indignation growing as I sat forward. “Maybe I should go on with my life as if you didn’t turn it upside down.”

  “You’re close. However, you should know, myself is not who I plan to fuck.”