by Hamel, B. B.
Wife For Him
A Possessive Mafia Romance
BB Hamel
Contents
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1. Reid
2. Cora
3. Reid
4. Cora
5. Reid
6. Cora
7. Reid
8. Cora
9. Reid
10. Cora
11. Reid
12. Cora
13. Reid
14. Cora
15. Reid
16. Cora
17. Reid
18. Cora
19. Reid
20. Cora
21. Reid
22. Cora
23. Reid
24. Cora
25. Reid
26. Cora
27. Cora
Also by BB Hamel
Copyright © 2020 by B. B. Hamel
All rights reserved.
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1
Reid
When I first met Cora, she was wearing a wedding dress.
It wasn’t how I pictured our first meet-cute but this wasn’t an everyday situation. Don Vincent, the acting head of the Leone Crime Family, stood at the front of the church with a wicked smiled and a midnight-black suit. The head of the Volkov Crew and my current boss, Hedeon, stood on my side in the traditional best man’s spot, which was more than fitting—considering he orchestrated this entire wedding.
The pews were filled with made men, their wives and girlfriends, and a few kids. I knew everyone on the Volkov side—men I’d known all my life and the crews they worked over, men I considered brothers, best friends, family. The Leone side was a little bit sketcher, but there were a few faces I recognized, like Dante, Luca and Steven, guys that were legends in the city’s underworld. They gazed back at me impassively as I took my position up at the altar and nodded at Hedeon, who gave me a big grin in response and clasped my arm.
I hoped he was happy. He’d better be, since this was the last thing in the world I wanted—but when the crew asked something of me, I always stepped up.
Soft voices echoed through the huge marble church. I glanced over at the stained-glass windows, at the statues of Jesus, at the opulent columns that ended in elaborate carvings along their tops and had to admit that Catholics had pretty damn good taste in art. White, pink, and light blue flowers bloomed along the edges of the pews and a light gauzy fabric hung from the ceiling, casting gentle shadows over the assembled killers. The priest was an old dude decked out in that fancy robe—I wasn’t sure it was called, unfortunately I didn’t pay attention the two or three times I went to Mass when I was growing up—and his hair was a shock of white that stuck out from his skull like he’d been electrocuted.
I shifted from foot to foot and for the first time in a long time, I felt a stab of nerves.
“You’re sweating,” Hedeon whispered, leaning forward so that the priest couldn’t hear. “What’s the matter?”
I turned my head toward him to answer. “What’s this girl look like again?”
Hedeon laughed. “What’s it matter? This is for the crew.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one marrying her.”
He squeezed my arm again and grinned. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want to do. If she’s not your type, we’ll call it off.”
I gave him a look. “Fat fucking chance with the whole goddamn Leone family ten feet away.”
“What, them? Who gives a fuck about them? You need a pretty wife, that’s important. We’ll just tell them to go fuck themselves.”
I glared at him, but the traditional wedding march began and I turned forward to face my future.
An arranged marriage. I always thought that sort of thing was for people in different cultures, in places far, far away from Philadelphia—but when Hedeon approached me and suggested that I could cement the bond between his new Volkov Crew and the Leone Crime Family, I knew I couldn’t turn my back on him, not when he’d done so much for me.
Which meant I was about to get hitched to a total stranger.
The doors to the chapel opened and the crowd stood. I felt my heart race and I thought I might pass out. Des grinned at me and I saw Owain give me a big smile and a wink while he held the hand of his pretty little girlfriend, Leigh. I looked away from the crowd, unable to face the smirks, the knowing smiles, the laughter in their eyes—and kept my gaze locked on the far end of the room as two people stepped in through the doors.
The man on the left was older, graying hair, dark pin-striped suit, scrubby beard on his fat face. His name was Gael Leone, brother of the main boss of the Leone Family and a minor player. He kept to himself and controlled a small subsection of South Philly like a king, but didn’t do much beyond his few meager blocks.
The girl on his arm was my future wife. Her dress plunged down the front and a diamond sparkled on her throat. My eyes moved along her hips and lingered on her curves as I felt a spike of excitement. Her breasts were full and round, her skin tanned and smooth, and her hair looked dark and hung in curls down to her shoulders. As she got closer, I could see through the white gauzy veil over her face—and couldn’t help the stupid smile that broke out across my face.
She was pretty. Really, really fucking pretty. She had hazel eyes that shone in the light and her cheeks were high above a set of round red lips that drove me absolutely wild. I wasn’t shy about the way I stared as her father glared death at me, walked her up to her spot on the altar, and deposited her there with some whispered words. He walked back down to sit in the front row and crossed his arms like he wanted nothing to do with the whole affair.
But I couldn’t spare a thought for him. I was too busy looking at my new, pretty wife—my gorgeous, very fuckable wife. She stared back at me through the veil and I wasn’t sure what her expression meant; maybe some combination of skeptical, angry, and interested. I felt a surge of relief and confusion wash over me as the priest cleared his throat, and I realized I was supposed to do something.
Hedeon leaned forward. “Lift the veil. She’s pretty enough, right?”
I grinned at him, reached forward, and pulled her veil back.
Goddamn right she was pretty enough.
But she didn’t smile as we locked eyes.
The priest cleared his throat and began, but the rest of the service was a blur. The priest sounded like one of those adults on that Charlie Brown cartoon I used to watch as a kid, all wah wah, womp wah, wah womp. I stood there staring at her pretty, full lips, her deep hazel eyes, her high cheekbones, and tried to remember her name. There’d be plenty of time to figure that out in the coming—well, the rest of my life, really—but I should probably start off on a good foot.
Still, the fact that she was gorgeous made my heart do flips from pure joy. I felt like I dodged a bullet, and the rest would be smooth sailing.
Or probably not. The whole marriage thing was never supposed to be in the cards for me, and this whole thing was supposed to be for show. She glared at me like she wanted to rip off my balls and probably didn’t enjoy the way I stared at her body with undisguised delight—but she couldn’t really be that surprised considering
how good she looked in that dress.
I was torn from my thoughts as she glared at me and leaned forward. I realized everyone was staring at me and I did my best to put on a charming smile.
“It’s the good part,” Hedeon whispered. “Kiss the fucking girl.”
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said and I got the feeling it wasn’t the first time.
I stepped forward and the girl’s jaw clenched. As I leaned closer, it hit me—
Cora, my future wife.
I put a hand on the small of her back, the first time I’d ever touched her. She didn’t pull away but I felt her muscles tense beneath my fingers. I leaned forward, head tilted, and her face relaxed a fraction of an inch as I pressed my lips against hers.
It wasn’t a great kiss. She didn’t open her mouth, didn’t lean into it—but still, her lips were full and soft and I tasted lemons and poppy as I pulled away, letting my hand linger on her body for a moment, our eyes locked in front of the church.
My wife. My Cora.
What the fuck had I just gotten myself into?
“It is my pleasure to present to you all Mr. and Mrs. Reid Marino.”
The church went wild as everyone stood and applauded. Hedeon clapped me on the back and I walked down the center aisle with my new wife. I kept a hand on her lower back and she moved stiffly like I held a gun against her head. I grinned and winked at a few guys, and I thought I saw some jealousy in their stares—everyone thought I’d been given the shit job, but instead I landed a pretty wife. I felt like I was in heaven, and I couldn’t be happier.
Once we left the chapel and stood in a vestibule before stepping outside, she pulled away from my hand, turned to face me, and slapped me hard across the face. I stood there in complete shock for several beats as her jaw clenches and she breathed hard, glaring pure death at me.
“What the fuck?” I touched my cheek and stared at her, eyes wide. It hurt, but the pain was not big deal. It was the abrupt viciousness of the act and the wild, raging hate in her eyes as she stared at me like she wanted to do more than hit me once.
“Let’s get something straight,” she said. “Don’t you ever touch me like that again. And this whole marriage? It’s bullshit.”
I worked my jaw and stared at her for a long moment. All the elation I felt melted away as I took stock of her.
She was barely over five foot four and looked like she wanted to murder me. I could throw her over my shoulder and carry her off to my marriage bed at any second, and there’d be nothing she could do about it. I wanted to show her who had control in this situation—but I knew that was the wrong play.
She was a Leone. I couldn’t use brute strength here.
I dropped my fingers from my face and gave her my best smile.
“You’re damn right it’s bullshit.”
That seemed to knock her off balance. “Then good. We’re in agreement. We’re doing this for show and because our families want it, but there’s nothing real here. As soon as we can, we’re getting a divorce.”
I snorted and shrugged. “Fine with me.”
“Good.” She crossed her arms and tried another glare, but she’d lost the fire.
I stepped closer to her, leaning forward slightly. I met her eyes and let my smile linger for a few seconds.
“But let’s get something else straight. If you hit me again, you won’t like what happens.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Test me. Find out.”
I knew what was coming. This girl was pissed, and she wanted to take it out on someone—and since I was the man she got hitched to, she probably felt like I was a perfectly fine target.
Bad move.
I caught her wrist as she whipped her hand toward me. She took a sharp breath and I stepped forward, pinning her back against the wall. She stared up at me with loathing in her eyes and struggled, but I pushed a knee between her legs and used my body to hold her against the tile.
“I told you not to do that again.”
“Let me go, asshole.”
“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to be civil.” I leaned forward, inches from her face. Goddamn, I wanted to kiss her. “You need to be on your best behavior.”
“Then you need to let me go.”
We stood like that, my knee between her legs, my hand pinning one of her wrists above her head, when the door to the chapel opened.
Hedeon came out first, followed by Vincent Leone. They stood and stared at us without saying a word until Hedeon let out a sigh and shook his head.
“I swear, Vincent. He’s usually so well behaved.”
Vincent’s smile could have melted ice. “Unfortunately, she’s not.”
“Fuck you, Vince.” Cora’s eyes flashed to him. “You gonna do anything about this?”
“I assume there’s a good reason you’re in this situation.” Vincent’s head tilted to the side. “Maybe that handprint on his face?”
I grunted a laugh and released her. She steadied herself, fixed her dress, and tore the veil out of her hair. She tossed it on the ground and turned to her cousin, barely controlling her anger.
“I told you I’d go through with it, but I never said anything about being nice.”
“That’s fair. And I never said anything about holding your hand.”
“You’re seriously going to let him treat me like that?”
Vincent stepped toward his cousin. “Cora, I know you’re angry. But this is your situation now, and you’re going to have to get used to it.”
She stood there and the small vestibule was tense with silence. Hedeon caught my eye and I could tell he wasn’t happy about this, but fuck him—he hadn’t seen the way she glared death at me.
I knew I couldn’t let her hit me again. I let her connect a second time, and I’d lose her respect, and that was it, we were finished. I liked the girl, I truly did, and not only because she was hot as sin. I liked the fire and the anger, I liked the spark in her, but that didn’t mean I could let her roll all over me.
I watched as she composed herself. I had to admit, it was pretty impressive. She took a deep breath, stood up straight, and lifted her chin ever so slightly as she looked at her cousin in the eye.
“All right,” she said. “I lost my temper. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Vincent grunted and held up a hand. “It’s fine. Reid, you’re fine?”
“I’m all good,” I said. “I deserved the first slap.”
“First one?” Hedeon asked.
“She went for two.” I shrugged. “Girl knows what she wants.”
She glared at me. “I don’t need your help.”
“Fine, go ahead and handle your cousin.” I gestured at Vincent.
He rubbed his eyes. “Listen, Cora. We have a deal, and I swear I’ll uphold my end of it. You need to play along for a while, and when things in the city settle down, we’ll revisit alternative arrangements.”
“That means divorce, in case you’re not aware,” I said.
She shot me a look then took a breath and turned back to Vincent. “All right. I shouldn’t have lost it like that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He clapped his hands together. “Now, shall we go to the reception and get blind drunk?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Hedeon said and walked past them. He stopped at my side and gave me a look then leaned in close. “You better make this work.”
I nodded at him, face serious. He turned and left the vestibule and more people began to filter out of the chapel. Vincent walked after Hedeon, stopping only to smile, shake my hand, and congratulate me.
I turned back to Cora. She glared at me, but there was less malice in her eyes. Some older members of her family filtered past and she plastered a smile on her face to accept their congratulations and kisses. I shook hands, kissed cheeks, and drifted over to my new wife. She hesitated, stared up at me, then slipped a hand through my arm and let me lead her outside.
“I shouldn’t have hit you,” Cora said as we posed together, doing our best to smile for the camera.
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”
“I lost it a little bit. I didn’t expect you to touch me.”
“What, like this?” I put my hand on the small of her back.
She flinched but didn’t move away as the photographer kept snapping pictures.
“Yes, like that.”
“We’re married now, you know. I’ll probably be touching you with some frequency.”
She stiffened. “I don’t think so.”
“No? I thought that’s what married couples did. You know, when a man loves a woman—”
“There’s no love here.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.” She turned to me, ignoring the photographer. “We need to lay out some ground rules for this.”
I tilted my head and smiled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Another spark of anger flashed into her eyes.
It was almost too easy.
“Reid,” she said, and her tone was warning.
I held up a hand. “Okay, okay. Look, we’ll talk about that tomorrow, all right? Tonight, let’s pretend we’re happy about this fucked-up situation and deal with it all in the morning.”
“Fine.”
