Imperfect Bride: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance (Blood Empire Book 5)

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Imperfect Bride: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance (Blood Empire Book 5) Page 10

by Blake York


  Gabriel whips around. “Jesus Christ, it’s Luna!” He takes off, running through bullets to get to his wife. I look over just as he rips her off her feet and forces her to the floor.

  I blink at the open door, shocked by what I’m seeing. This can’t be real.

  “What the fuck are our wives doing here?” Anders’ roar has all my brothers off their guard, leaving only me to watch their six. I mow down three of the guys before they can take out my brothers.

  “Warrick!” Everly’s voice chills me to the fucking core.

  Casting a quick glance over my shoulder, I see her peeking out from around a crate. Too far away from me.

  “Don’t move!” I bellow to her.

  “Cover me while I get to Zoey!” Ryker darts out into the open, and I provide covering fire like some goddamn militant. Everything I know I’ve learned on the streets, and this is one of the worst battles I’ve ever been in. This time, our family is in even more danger.

  What these women thought in coming here, I don’t know. But I can only guess that they heard the shots and couldn’t stop themselves from blowing into the warehouse.

  One of our guards joins us. How the hell did he get here? Did our wives know something we didn’t and came to warn us about this deal going sour? We already saw it coming.

  Another bullet strikes one of the guys and he falls. The sickening crack of his head on concrete yanks a scream from Everly.

  “Stay there, you hear me?” I toss at her.

  “Cease fire!” A new voice joins the mix.

  I pop my head out to fix my eyes on the open door. One second I see Detective Bly silhouetted in the doorway. The next he’s down.

  And I’m not sure who put the bullet in him.

  Chapter XIV

  Everly

  Screams bottle in my throat. I recognize these men trying to kill our husbands.

  Something else long locked away surfaces, a wisp of a memory of that night my father was shot.

  I stare in the direction the bullet that hit Detective Bly came from. The shooter’s wearing a hood and a ski mask, his face concealed entirely from me.

  Just like that night in my father’s office.

  Everything rushes back in a big, black cloud, including something I blocked out until this very moment. Right before he pulled the trigger, the man clearly spoke my father’s name to make him turn around.

  I recognize that voice as Nick’s.

  My pulse races. My head swims. All this time, he killed his own boss.

  I jump out of my hiding place. Shouts echo around the warehouse, but I have one thing in mind, and that is reaching Nick and making him tell me where my sister is.

  I don’t make it three steps before someone yanks me off my feet and drags me down again. I look up into Warrick’s furious gaze and know there will be hell to pay for putting myself at risk.

  “It’s Nick!” I cry out, pointing.

  Warrick processes this information so quickly that it stuns me. He shoots to his feet, takes aim.

  I barely have time to grab his arm and make sure he doesn’t hit his target. The bullet blasts in another direction, chipping wood off the stack of crates in front of us.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he screams at me.

  “We need him alive! I think he took Melody!”

  “Jesus Christ.” Warrick fires again, wiping out another man. Then the place goes dead silent.

  I start to speak, to tell Warrick all that happened and beg him to come with me and find Melody, but he pulls the trigger. Nick falls with a bellow of rage and pain.

  I cry out and start scrabbling forward to get to Nick. I have to know where my sister is.

  Warrick sweeps out a hand to shove me backward. “Stay back! There were seven plus Bly.”

  A quick headcount and I see one of the men isn’t lying dead on the floor. In the doorway, Bly’s still breathing in sharp, painful gasps. Looking at his gray face and all the blood flowing from his chest, and I’m pretty sure he won’t make it.

  “I can go for a good game of Marco Polo,” Kenzo drawls.

  One of the brothers laughs. I clench my fingers together and hold my breath as all of our men start searching the place for the seventh man.

  “Marco,” Anders calls out as he circles a stack of crates.

  “Marco!” Over and over the Rossi brothers play their macabre game.

  Every woman I traveled here with tonight isn’t even visible—their men have tucked them away in the safest spots probably with their backs to the wall just like the way Warrick positioned me.

  My heart trips out of control.

  “Marco.”

  “Found him.” The deadened tone is that of my husband. “Polo, motherfucker.” He shoots.

  Chapter XV

  Warrick

  It takes longer for me to tie up Moretti and toss him in the back of the SUV than it does to pry the information from the man. It doesn’t hurt that my tried and true method of making men talk is to rip out their molars.

  Moretti doesn’t last long before he spits tooth and blood out along with the whereabouts of Everly’s sister.

  I look up at Dub, my Irish cousin and one of the most loyal men I know. He made it to the warehouse in record time. “Get a team to clean up the warehouse. And take this piece of shit to the apartment.”

  Dub gives the nod that he understands what to do. Anybody who goes to the apartment building we own in the worst section of Chicago never returns. It’s easy to drop a body in an alley there and no one ever questions what happened. Violence is too thick and there’s too much blood spilled on those streets for the cops to bother to investigate.

  “You don’t want to take him yourself?” Dub’s eyes are very close to our mother’s, I’m told, but I don’t remember her at all.

  I look at Moretti trussed up like a hog in the back. “Nah, I’m done with him.”

  “I’m not.” Everly steps up to the SUV and stares at the man who tried to lay claim to her. She holds out her phone with the video zoomed in on his face. From this angle, it’s not evident that he’s tied up, and no one would be the wiser that he was in the back of a vehicle.

  To say I’m shocked by what she’s doing is an understatement. I have no clue what is going on in Everly’s mind as she rolls that video.

  “That night six years ago, you slipped into Antonio Gallo’s office and shot him, didn’t you?”

  Bloodshot eyes stare at her. Blood dribbles off his chin.

  “This is your one and only chance to confess to this crime, Nick. Did you shoot and kill my father?”

  Dead silence lays heavy over the group of us gathered, watching her.

  “Warrick?” she asks after a long heartbeat when Moretti doesn’t talk.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hand me those pliers. I’ll take another molar.”

  “No! Don’t rip out my teeth!” Moretti howls, and a couple of my brothers turn away, probably laughing at his weakness. A tooth in the face of what’s coming to him is nothing.

  “Did you kill my father?” Everly demands in a strong voice.

  “Yes! It was me. He didn’t know how to handle the business. I could do it so much better.” He offers a grim smile. “And I did.”

  Everly stops the film. I turn to Dub. “Close the lid.”

  Moretti disappears to us forever, but his confession will close the case and get people like Bly off Everly’s back. If he lives, though, it will be a miracle. The guy was torn up bad from that bullet and taken by ambulance.

  That much we did for him, at my wife’s request.

  She swings toward me, eyes hard. “Now let’s go get my sister.”

  We know exactly where she is, and we don’t waste any time getting there. Everly is right that somebody lured her out, and Moretti ratted out the last person who might have helped him in this godforsaken world.

  We split into vehicles, with my three of my brothers and Everly with me, and Anders with the rest of the Rossi wives. There’s n
o way we’ll let them out of our sight for a long-ass time now that we know just what kind of bad situations they’re willing to put themselves in.

  It takes a while to circle the city and reach the suburbs where Melody’s school was. Beyond that, about ten miles down the road, is the perfect place to hide away a young girl from the view of society, the cops and probably God Himself.

  I know of the place because of all the bad shit that goes down there. It’s got a reputation for being the last stop on anybody’s ride through life. It’s where our old man got the idea to have a place like that of our own, and that’s when he bought the apartment.

  At my side, Everly sits stiffly, her stare taking in nothing. She’s deep in her head, and who can blame her? If it was one of my brothers? Hell, if it was her? I wouldn’t be sitting here so quiet.

  Ryker pulls into the dump that consists of a house that looks like something out of a horror film. Add in the garage where plenty of torture takes place and my guts are clenching with the need to put the man who took Melody in the well that must be full of dozens of bodies.

  “Oh my god! What is this place? It looks terrifying!” Everly’s voice breaks. The darkness in her tone seeps through to her face, drawing her features down in a mask of despair.

  I grab her face and make her look at me. “I’m going after her. You’re staying here with Ryker. He’ll keep the vehicle running.”

  She’s shaking her head, or trying to, but I hold her steady and force her to see me. “Everly, stay here. Do you understand?”

  “I can’t. I have to see!”

  “That’s not a good idea. I’ll bring her back.” I glance in the rearview at my brother behind the wheel. “You have my permission to tie her up if she tries to come after me.”

  Everly issues a squawk and leans forward, dropping her face into her hands. Her shoulders shake once, and then she goes still. I hate that I have to do this to her, but whatever is happening in that building is going to haunt her for the rest of her life.

  I leave her and head to the house with my two brothers flanking me. Kenzo is armed to the teeth and Gabriel looks ready to do some damage.

  When we walk in the front door, Johnny Gallo is waiting for us. Just sitting in a grungy mouse-eaten armchair with a gun in his hand.

  And it’s aimed at Melody.

  The girl is curled into a ball, innocent and vulnerable. She will bear a lot of scars after this, but Everly will take care of her.

  Gallo looks up at me, and Melody sees us too. She cries out before she bites down on her lip in exactly the same gesture I’ve seen in my wife.

  “Gabriel, get her to safety. Gallo.” I look him in the eyes. “You, me. Outside. One shot each.”

  His eyes widen at my command. He barks out a laugh. “Is this the 1800s? Are we having a duel?”

  “Goddamn right we are. We’re going to see which one of us is the better shot and who is dead. Let’s go.”

  When he doesn’t move, my bellow shakes the dust from the crumbling plaster ceiling. “Get the fuck outside!”

  He swaggers to his feet. Gabriel is bent over Everly’s sister, talking to her softly. And Kenzo? He’s right with me. Gallo doesn’t move fast enough, and Kenzo propels him by whipping him in the back of the skull with his pistol.

  Gallo stumbles but doesn’t fall. He doesn’t even lift a hand to the blood pouring from his head.

  Out in the yard, I see evidence of other violence. A shoe left behind. Some dirty drug needles and a shotgun casing.

  “Stop right there,” I instruct Gallo.

  He does and we face each other.

  “Ten steps that direction. Count them off loud enough for me to hear. When we get to ten, we turn and take our shot. May the worst man wake up in hell.” I take off walking, counting in my head.

  “You can’t win it all, Rossi,” he calls out to me.

  I don’t respond.

  “She was going to be my wife, but my idiot brother gave her to Moretti. Then you came and bought him out. Does Everly know that you paid a million dollars for her?”

  “You’re not counting, Gallo.”

  “Three! Four! You got all the guns and made the bigger profit. I should have gotten a cut from that deal Moretti was making. I should have gotten the mansion in Detroit too, but that asshole brother of mine willed it to his half-wit youngest daughter.”

  Melody? Unlikely she’ll ever want to return to it, but at least we can sell it and put the cash into a trust for her. A small payment for what she’s endured at this motherfucker’s hands.

  “Six! Seven!”

  I meet Kenzo’s gaze. That’s far enough.

  I whirl just as Gallo raises his weapon. He’s stupid, and I’m fast.

  When I pull the trigger, he’s thrown backward, dead. I stride up to him and pump a few more into his chest just to be sure.

  Kenzo and I cross the yard in silence. We’re a few steps from the vehicle when he gives me a nod that looks strangely like my father’s.

  “Good job, brother. The old man will be proud.”

  I chuckle. “Who cares?”

  Kenzo laughs with me and claps me on the shoulder. We’ll be united forever in our dislike for our father and our drive to win at life. One thing I know for sure when I climb into the car with my wife, who is hugging her little sister tight, is that my brothers and I will always have each other’s backs.

  And I’ll always protect what belongs to me.

  Everly

  I called out a hit on my own mother.

  Warrick tells me that the cops just found her body, and I can’t feel any pain or remorse at all. Everything that happened to me, to Melody, could have been avoided if that woman had loved us half as much as she loved heroin.

  Warrick’s warm hand cups my cheek. I close my eyes at his touch and lean into it. “Are you all right?” he asks, moving in closer.

  I nod and open my eyes to stare into the fathomless depths of his black Rossi eyes. I could drown in them, and I do when I’m in his bed.

  “Are you ready to go in and face the family?” He looks over my head toward the dining room. I hear the chatter and clink of glasses as cheers go around the table in a big party to celebrate that once again, the Rossis have come out on top.

  And I helped them get there.

  I cover his hand with mine and mesh our fingers. We walk hand-in-hand into the dining room. Everyone looks up at us, takes note of our public display of affection and another cheer goes up.

  Grinning, Warrick seats me like I’m royalty before taking his own chair beside mine. The table is full of smiles tonight. All the strain is finally draining out of me as well. I’m safe. Melody is back in school and seeing a therapist on the side. The people who tried to hurt us both are dead thanks to the support of this family.

  My throat clogs off and I bring my champagne glass to my lips.

  When I glance up, I find Vincent Rossi’s gaze on me. I give him a slow nod of deference.

  He clears his throat and lifts his glass. He has all our attention. The room is dead silent.

  “To Warrick’s wife, Everly Rossi. You’re not the perfect bride. But you’re the perfect bride for my son.”

  Tears blur my vision, and Warrick seems completely stunned. I find his hand beneath the table and grip it tight. Both of us look to his father and the men share a lift of their chins in a father-son moment of understanding and acceptance.

  Warrick defied his family to take me as a bride.

  And there’s nowhere else I belong.

  Epilogue

  Warrick

  The old man stunned the hell out of me with his speech about Everly that day.

  He’s right that she’s not perfect—she’s perfect for me. Truer words have never been spoken.

  It’s been two years since the day I slapped down a million dollars to have my wife. Best money I ever spent. I’ve learned a few lessons since then too.

  Such as the fact my family has a hell of a lot of input in my life. My brothers
and father are great advisors to me, the youngest in the Rossi family. But they don’t know everything about what’s best for me, same as I don’t know what’s best for them.

  What we all know, however, is how to run this empire. It’s been built on blood spilled and we’ve broken every goddamn rule ever made to get where we’re at. I must say, the view from the top’s pretty fucking spectacular.

  I stare across the room at my wife. When she’s bent over with that round ass thrust my way, I’m in lust all over again. Knowing she’s bent over the crib that holds our infant daughter? I’m not too proud to admit that while my family has my loyalty, my wife and child have my heart.

  She lifts the cooing baby out of the crib. Etta’s little pajamaed feet kick with excitement, and Everly’s warm eyes light on me. Her cheek is pressed against the baby’s, and my daughter has the same eyes as my wife.

  In slow steps to savor the moment, I cross the room to them. When I reach them, I envelop them in my arms. Nothing and no one will ever touch my world. I will protect them to the end of my days and beyond.

  Everly leans in for my kiss, and I don’t hesitate to brush my mouth over hers. The baby’s hand hits my cheek, and we share a laugh.

  “I swear this little girl is my mother reincarnated,” I say, staring down at Etta’s sparse dark hair coating her round head. “If my mother had lived, she probably would have slapped me plenty.”

  Everly’s laugh tinkles and she kisses our daughter between her fuzzy brows. “She’s a tough little cookie, aren’t you, baby girl? It’s because you’re a Rossi.”

  My heart swells that I’ve been able to give my name to my wife and child.

  The sound of a dog’s high-pitched yips floats up to us from downstairs. “That’s Zoey’s mutt going off again,” I complain.

  “Well, Etta loves the dog. I was thinking we should get her a puppy of her own. I love seeing babies grow up with a puppy. The dogs get so protective. Just think of Zoey and Ryker’s son. The dog adores Dimitri.”

 

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