The Killer's New Obsession: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by Hamel, B. B.

“Bullshit,” Ronan said. “So many other men in your little family have tried to take us down and failed. How the hell did you do this?”

  “You didn’t see them,” I said as a figure appeared at the end of the hallway.

  Sasha, grinning at me. She saluted with the gun. Her shoulder bled freely and her front was drenched in it, but she was alive.

  I waved her over and pressed a finger against my lips. She nodded, standing just behind me.

  “How’s that?” Ronan asked. “Didn’t see them? You’re so full of shit, Cam. You’re going to tell me that I underestimated the girls then, is that it?”

  “That’s it,” I said. “You thought they were a bunch of strung-out junkies. Didn’t consider they might be willing to do something drastic for their freedom.”

  “They’re ungrateful,” he said, growling the words. “We brought them to America, gave them work, gave them drugs and a home and meaning—”

  “Careful,” I said. “Or those girls are going to rush you and end this.”

  Silence for a second. I looked at Sasha and pointed at her then pointed up and toward Ronan. I pointed at myself, then down, then toward Ronan. She nodded once and seemed to understand that I wanted her to go high while I went low and distracted him.

  I held up a hand to wait.

  “What do you want?” Ronan asked, sounding wary and tired now. “I get it, I’m pinned down. Bitches to my left, bitches to my right. Tell me what you want, Cam.”

  “You know what I want,” I said.

  “You can’t have my head, if that’s all there is,” Ronan said. “You’ve got to want something else. Money? You want names and addresses?” His voice started to break. “Tell me how to get out of this.”

  I started to drop my fingers down one at a time. “There’s no way out, Ronan. Be a man and face it.”

  “Fuck you,” Ronan roared. “I am a man. I’m a man of the Healy family, son of my father, Colm, strongest leader in this city, I’m a goddamn—”

  I dropped all my fingers then rolled forward. Ronan left cover to shoot at me, and I kicked against the ground, propelling myself along the hardwood floor. I slid along my side and shoulder and fired off a few wild rounds that were never meant to hit, only meant to keep him focused on me.

  Ronan fired. Bullets slammed into the floor around me. Then Sasha came out of cover and shot him clean in the face.

  The round took Ronan in the skull. His head snapped back and blood sprayed on the wall behind him. I lay there, breathing hard, feeling for blood or injury, but there was only the grazed shoulder. Sasha grimaced as she pressed against the bullet wound in her own shoulder, then looked down at me and grinned.

  “Got him,” she said. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  I slowly got to my feet as girls began to come out of the kitchen. They looked scared and tired and terrified, but they kept hold of their guns as they gathered around Sasha.

  I walked over to Ronan and stared down at this dead body. Then I took out my phone, snapped a picture, and put my phone away.

  “Gross,” Sasha said.

  “Don Valentino wants proof,” I said. “There’s his proof.” I spit on Ronan for good measure. “Bastard deserved this.”

  Sasha looked back at the herd of scared girls then shook her head. “What now, boss?”

  “Now we leave,” I said. “Everyone out. Grab your stuff, all the money you can, and let’s go. There are two cars out front, although whoever has to drive is going to get a little blood on them.”

  “All right, you heard the man,” Sasha barked, and the girls started moving like they broke from a dream. They scattered toward the stairs and started running up to get their stuff.

  “How are the other houses?” Sasha asked, worry in her tone. “Anna? The sisters?”

  “All good,” I said. “We lost some, but not many. From what I can tell, all the Healy guys are dead.”

  “Fuck.” Sasha leaned back against the wall. “Can you believe this shit?”

  “I can believe it,” I said. “Come on, you’re with me. You need a doctor.”

  “A doctor.” She laughed. “I don’t even have insurance. Actually, scratch that. I don’t even have citizenship.”

  I laughed and steered her toward the hall. “Hurry up,” I shouted upstairs. “Cars out front. Head to the manor.” I looked at Sasha. “They know where that is, right?”

  “Right,” she said, nodding. “Drilled it into them.”

  “Good.” I helped her outside.

  Irene jumped out of hiding and scared the shit out of me. She ran to Sasha, sucked in a shocked breath, then got under her other arm. “Are you okay?” Irene asked. “Oh my god, you’re shot.”

  “I’m fine,” Sasha said, smiling weakly. “We’re going to a doctor.”

  “There’s one at the manor,” I said. “Don Valentino put one on standby for tonight.”

  “Let’s go then,” Irene said.

  We hurried back to the car. I got them in the back seat then drove away into the night just as the girls filed out of the house. I watched in the rearview as they yanked the bodies from the Healy cars and began to get inside.

  More texts came throughout the night. In all, five girls died, eight more were injured, and most of the rest met up at the Valentino mansion. Some ran off and went on their own, and I wished them good luck.

  Twenty-six Healy men died that night, including Ronan. Only two got away.

  Those fucking girls. Those warriors.

  I met Irene’s eye as she pressed her hand against Sasha’s wound and she grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back, because I knew that this was over—but the real stuff, the good stuff, had just begun.

  23

  Irene

  Two Years Later

  Someone banged so hard on our front door that the hinges shook. “Hold on!” I shouted as I struggled to stand up.

  I grunted and cupped a hand under my pregnant belly. I was seven months along and couldn’t wait to give birth, mostly because I wanted to stop sweating so damn much. Cam installed central air in the townhouse we bought near Passyunk Avenue and renovated, but it still didn’t seem to cool things enough.

  I walked as fast as I could to the door and yanked it open.

  Sasha beamed in at me. “‘Sup girl,” she said and walked inside without waiting for an invitation.

  “‘Sup yourself,” I said, closing the door behind her. She flopped down onto the couch and beamed up at me.

  Sasha looked good. She gained weight since everything happened, but it suited her. The bags under her eyes were gone and her skin looked healthier. She was still loud and obnoxious and hilarious, the same Sasha I met two years earlier, but she’d grown into someone comfortable in her own skin and didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought of her.

  So really she hadn’t changed all that much.

  I walked over and sat down next to her, gingerly putting my feet up on the coffee table. I sighed and leaned my head against Sasha’s shoulder.

  She tugged at my hair and started braiding a few strands.

  “I’m exhausted,” I said. “Just absolutely exhausted.”

  “What’d you do so far today?” Sasha asked.

  “Woke up,” I said. “Showered. Came downstairs. That’s a lot when you’re as pregnant as I am.”

  “Good point,” Sasha said and pressed a hand against my bump. “Look at that, he’s kicking.”

  I could feel it, a constant rhythm. I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl, but I thought it might be a boy, just based on how much he liked to roll around in there. But that didn’t really mean anything. Cam said he didn’t care either way, just wanted a healthy child, and I agreed.

  Although I had better boy names than girl names.

  “Are you here because you’re nervous?” I asked absently, pretending like I wasn’t really all that interested when I was actually dying to ask a million questions.

  “Since when did I need a reason to come visit you?” s
he asked.

  “Since never, considering you appear at least once a day,” I said.

  “You love it,” she said, laughing. Sasha lived in an apartment that Cam bought for her right after everything happened. We moved in a few houses down about six months later when our current house went up for sale. It was complete luck, or kismet, or whatever.

  But I loved living near Sasha. Cam said he liked it too, although I wondered about that. She wasn’t shy about showing up and hanging around, even when I was out running errands. Sometimes I’d come home to find her sitting on the couch with Cam watching baseball or something, and he’d give me a look like, thank god you’re home.

  “Are you going to tell me about him or do I have to guess?” I asked, nudging up against her.

  Sasha groaned. “I don’t want to say.”

  “Come on, please?”

  “All right, fine, since you’ll hear about it eventually anyway.” She started braiding a new section of hair. “His name’s Adam and he’s a dentist.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Dentist. That’s amazingly boring.”

  “I know,” she said, grinning. “I love it though.”

  Sasha hadn’t been on any dates in the last two years, at least none that she’d told me about. She kept saying she wanted to spend time with herself and figure out how she was going to live in a world where she had her freedom, but I had a feeling she was still dealing with her trauma.

  This Adam was the first guy she’d even considered dating, which was a huge and exciting step.

  “I’m proud of you for giving this a shot,” I said. “And if it doesn’t work out, don’t worry. You’re hot as hell. You’ll find someone new.”

  She sighed dramatically. “I know, I know. Being this hot is almost a curse though, you know? So many guys want me.”

  “But you’re all mine.”

  She laughed and I sat up, stretching my back as the door opened and Cam came inside. He glanced at me and his face lit up, then he nodded at Sasha.

  “I figured I’d find you two here,” he said.

  “How’d you know?” Sasha asked.

  “You’re always here,” he said, walked over to me, and kissed me. “How do you feel?” he asked softly.

  “I feel good,” I said, touching his cheek. “And how’s my Capo?”

  “Your Capo’s killing it out there,” he said. “Excuse my bad pun, but you know.”

  He wasn’t kidding. The Valentino family had finally ended its war with the Healys, and they were prospering. Money flowed in faster than we knew what to do with it, and Don Valentino had to help all his guys in laundering their illegal cash. It was a very good problem to have.

  “My Capo’s a prince,” I said.

  “I actually have something to show you,” he said, glancing at Sasha. “Should I do it now?”

  Sasha shrugged. “I think so. Why not?”

  “All right then.” Cam held out his hand to me. “Come on.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked as Cam helped me up.

  Sasha looked at her nails, smiling. “Nothing,” she said. “I should get going.” She jumped up.

  “Oh, god,” I said as Cam steered me toward the stairs. “I’m genuinely afraid of what you two did.”

  “It’s a good thing. Bye, sweetie!” Sasha slammed the door behind her.

  “Trust me,” Cam said. “You’ll like it.” He led me upstairs and into the extra bedroom. It was sparsely furnished, since it was about to become a nursery, only a crib and a dresser. We needed to get more stuff but the whole thing seemed so daunting.

  Cam close the door then led me over to the crib. “Stand here,” he said.

  “I feel like you’re about to put me down or something,” I said.

  He walked over to the closet. “Close your eyes,” he said.

  “Absolutely not. What is happening right now?”

  He shrugged, opened the closet, and took out a long dress bag. He held it up then slowly unzipped the front.

  I’ll admit that I was more than a little nervous. Cam had great taste in clothes for men, but he wasn’t exactly a fashionista when it came to women. If he bought me something to wear, I was genuinely terrified that it would be either tacky or way, way too revealing—since that was what he liked on me in private.

  But what came out took my breath away.

  It was a long, white wedding dress. The skirt was gossamer and tulle, so light it almost hung suspended in the air. The bust was silk and lace, cut exactly the way I wanted it.

  “You didn’t,” I said softly, staring up at him.

  He grinned massively. “I absolutely did,” he said. “Sasha told me you were gushing about it, so I made some calls.”

  “Cam,” I said, jaw dropping. “That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar designer dress. I can’t even believe it’s in the house right now.”

  He shrugged and held it up like it was just another dress instead of worth the price of a car or something like that. “You’ll have to get it tailored,” he said. “We’ll find the best person in the city to make the alterations. But I thought you’d like it.”

  I stepped forward and touched the fabric gently like I was afraid it would disintegrate into ash under my unworthy fingers. It was smooth and gorgeous, each stitch measured and perfect.

  I first saw it in a magazine and fell in love. I’ve never been a big wedding girl—never really thought about it and always assumed marriage would never happen for me. But as soon as I saw that dress, I fell head over heels and couldn’t stop gushing.

  It was modern and traditional and perfect, all at once. And Cam had spent a fortune to get it for me.

  “There are only two of them in the whole world,” I whispered. “Do you know who has the other one?”

  “Some actress,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “It’s yours now if you want it.”

  “Of course I want it.” Then I stopped and stare at him. “Does this mean you want to get married?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, zipping the dress back up, then knelt down on one knee.

  I covered my mouth with both hands. “Cam.”

  He opened a small black box and showed me the ring. It was massive—must’ve been worth ten times as much as that dress. It was obscene, and he slipped it down my finger with a soft grace that set a lump in my throat.

  “I love you,” he said. “I want you to be my wife. I want you to have everything you ever dreamed of.”

  “I love you too,” I managed to say, staring at the ring.

  Then he kissed me and we stood alone in that room holding each other, my big pregnant bump between us. He touched it then caressed my cheek, and I didn’t know how I got so lucky. A best friend that lived nearby. A man that loved me so much he couldn’t help but spoil me. And a baby on the way, a perfect baby.

  “I’m really happy that I stole from Ronan Healy,” I said.

  Cam laughed then took my hand. “Come on. Let’s go out and celebrate.”

  “How about you cook for me while I sit on the couch and complain about how my back hurts?” I said.

  “Whatever you want, it’s all yours.”

  And he led me downstairs.

  * * *

  If you want more steamy suspense, read the mafia books that started it all! Obsessed with His Bride begins the story of the Leone Crime Family. Dante meets his match in Aida, though she resists his intense charms at first. But when a war breaks out, Aida must give in to her desire or end up dead. I’ll kill to keep her. I’ll do much worse to make her my bride. >> Click Here to read it!

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  Also by BB Hamel

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