Loyalty that Binds

Cosa Nostra Series

A.J. Wyatt

A.J. Wyatt
 Copyright © 2021 A.J. Wyatt

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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living
or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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ASIN: B095XHVPMP

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To my Bookwife, without you there'd be no Neal and Amelia

And to my Tweedle, you were with me that day

 Prologue
Amelia

I have always wanted more in life.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve always wanted more.
More challenges. More beauty. More feeling. More adventure. More
life.
I don’t understand how someone can ever be satisfied with the same
daily routine. Getting up and doing the same thing, day in and day out. Yet,
I find myself living life exactly like that. It’s not that it happened to me; I
participated in everything and all things to get the life I currently have.
Everything is planned out. This is the life I was brought up to want, to work
for. Go to college, get a degree, find someone to marry, have children one
day, and of course, be ‘happy’. The perfect cookie-cutter life.
But I dream of something different.
A different life. One where I’m brave, fighting for what I believe in and
protecting loved ones. A life where I am the queen, with a king by my side.
I want to be strong and powerful, never cowering away from anything or
anyone, but rather leading and taking charge. Never apologizing for who I
am and what I want. The mere idea feels liberating. Sometimes I wish I
could die so I can move on to the next life, one where I will hopefully be
someone else.
As I look at the people walking in the streets, going about their lives, I
wonder if they feel it too. Do they also feel like something is missing? Like
there must be something else, something more. Or are they still
sleepwalking, content with the mundane?
Someone, please save me.
 Neal

As I stare into his cold, lifeless eyes, I feel the emptiness reflected in
me. Blood is pooling around my feet, soaking my shoes. I look at the blade
in my hand, the blood dripping from it, staining the clean floor of my office
and I feel nothing. I haven’t felt anything, except the need for vengeance,
for a very long time.
Killing someone is not always the answer and it’s usually something I
try to avoid. There are more creative ways to get what you want, but I can’t
stand betrayal. When I see someone’s face trying to figure out which shit
story they are going to give me, something inside me shuts off.
I may be a lot of things, but I am not a traitor, and I expect everyone
around me to also live by that code. Loyalty is life. We all live by it. You
promise to live by those words when you swear the Omerta on the night of
your initiation. When you’re Made, you belong to your Family and they
belong to you.
Yet this fucker seemed to have forgotten that part the second he decided
to run to the Irish Mob with information.
“Clean up this mess.” Handing my knife to Killian, I step over the body
to pour myself a glass of scotch from the bar. Through the one-way window
I can see the club in full motion. It’s quiet in here, except for the rustling,
mumbling, and cursing of my men disposing of the body.
 Out there the music is deafening, the lights blinding. It’s designed to
dull the senses. All you can see are bodies writhing together, keeping up
with the rhythm of the music. I spot a woman between two guys, making
out with the one while both are freely roaming her body with their hands.
Even that isn’t making me feel anything. The only thing I feel is the
familiar burn in my throat as I toss back the scotch before I walk to the
bathroom connected to my office. I need to shower and get ready. Sighing, I
pull off my bloody shirt, feeling the familiar pull of tension in my
shoulders.
God, save me.
 Chapter 1
Amelia

It’s a beautiful fall day, the weather outside is light and crisp, and I’m
filled with a feeling that resembles anticipation. The leaves on the trees in
Central Park are changing color. I’m surrounded by fading green, making
way for the new phase they’re about to enter. Change is in the air and I can
feel it.
With a sigh, I push open the door to Bergdorf Goodman on Fifth
Avenue. The warm air inside makes me remove my coat as I scan the store
for my two friends. Deep inside, I realize I have no business being here.
They don’t sell jeans and hoodies and people with limited funds can be
sussed out by the people working here. But I have to find a dress for
tonight’s gala at the Met. And since I’m, let’s say, fashionably challenged, I
called in the cavalry.
“You found it,” Liz says with a wide smile on her face as her even
wider, dark eyes stare at me with mockery in them. “I was starting to
wonder if you got lost.”
“I can read a sign.” I walk over to the couch and throw my handbag
down next to her with a sigh. “I’m dreading this. I don’t shop at places like
this.”
“Yeah, we know.” Liz takes out her credit card from her way too
expensive purse and waves it at me. “But today, you do.”
“No.” I plop down on the couch next to her, shoving her card back at
her. “I saved up for this dress. I’m paying for it myself.” The two of them
pay for enough as it is.
My part-time job at New York Presbyterian Hospital doesn’t pay
terribly, but it’s nowhere near the kind of money Liz and Olivia have at
their disposal. Liz’s father works on Wall Street and he offered to get us an
apartment close to Columbia. Since I can’t even imagine paying rent for an
apartment on the Upper West Side, I usually try to make up for it by buying
food and lots of wine.
“If you insist,” she says, tucking away her card. “You ought to prepare
yourself, though, you’re going to have to try on a shitload of dresses.”
 Before I can ask her why, Olivia approaches us, huffing under a
mountain of clothes. She tries to lay them down gently next to Liz, but fails
terribly, since there are just too many of them.
“What the fuck is all this?” Liz says as she starts inspecting the dresses.
“She can’t be caught dead in half of these.” She looks through the dresses
and pulls out the ones that she doesn’t approve of and slings them to the
side.
“What the hell are you doing?” Olivia whisper-shouts, her azure blue
eyes flashing at Liz as she picks up the discarded dresses and brushes them
off.
“I’m just helping Amelia narrow down her choices.” Even as Olivia
picks up the dresses, Liz keeps flinging them to the side. “These don’t show
enough cleavage, Olivia. She needs to show some boob at this shindig. Her
boyfriend never sees her, he needs to see what he’s missing.”
I can’t help the smile forming on my face. This woman seriously has no
filter or shame.
Olivia grows pale at Liz’s little display. “Oh. Dear. God. People can see
and hear you!” she says through gritted teeth, frantically looking around,
trying to see if someone is noticing Liz.
To call Olivia conservative would be an understatement. She loves
wearing couture and will always appear respectable and somewhat demure.
She loves making a fashion statement, but she does it while covering her
legs and her breasts. It’s easy when you have beautiful blonde hair and
piercing blue eyes to compliment every outfit. When asked about her choice
of clothing, she usually uses the saying ‘who is going to buy the cow if
you’re giving the milk away for free’, which I’m pretty sure is something
her mother drilled into her while growing up.
“I’m sorry,” Liz says and pointedly clears her throat. “I said she needs
to show some boob at this shindig,” she shouts, as she slings another dress
with force, making sure at least half of Bergdorf’s turn their heads towards
us.
Olivia puts her hands on her hips, like she’s about to scold a toddler.
“You’re insufferable, Elizabeth.”
Liz’s laughter dies abruptly as she widens her eyes and points at Olivia.
“Don’t you dare use that name in my presence.”
Olivia’s eyes glimmer with a sense of victory as she lightly shrugs her
shoulders, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean, it’s your
name, isn’t it?”
“You know very well that only my father calls me that.” She flips her
dark hair over her shoulder before continuing, “So unless you’re going to
whip out a penis and a credit card, please refer to me as Liz, or even Your
Royal Seductress, if you want.”
“You are the worst. We can never take you anywhere.” Olivia picks up
the dresses and tries her best to brush off imaginary wrinkles and specks of
dirt. “They are going to ask us to leave before Amelia even finds a dress to
wear.”
Tonight is a black-tie event. The type of event I never attend. I’m
dreading the mountain of dresses that’s staring at me and I wish I could just
go in my jeans. Jeans are my default setting. Besides, working and studying
like I do, I mostly go from my pajamas to jeans to scrubs.
I grab the first dress on the mountain of material next to me. “Just let
me try them on before the pile gets too big and the two of you start
throwing punches.”
Their antics can keep me entertained for days. The three of us have been
roommates since high school and since we’re all studying at Columbia, we
figured we can still share an apartment. At least until one of us leaves or
goes in a different direction. I guess those types of decisions are fast
approaching, since this is our last year.
I’m finishing my nursing degree, and instead of feeling like I’m at the
end of something incredible, it’s like I’m standing at the starting line with
no idea where to go. I’ve always had a plan about how things will happen. I
want to do my master’s degree next year, but there are internships to
consider. Cities I could move to, or even small towns, like my hometown.
There’s also a boyfriend to factor into my choice.
But for now, I have to choose a dress.
“How do you like this one?” I ask, stepping out behind the curtain in a
light pink dress with a sweetheart neckline and a ball gown skirt. Olivia’s
blue eyes light up while Liz sticks her finger in her mouth, pretending to
vomit.
“This is going to be tougher than I thought.” I shake my head at them.
“You two are not going to make this easy for me. You can’t disagree on
every single dress I try on, otherwise I swear to God, I’m going to this thing
in my jeans.”
“No!” they both shout.
 “Great, so you agree on something.” I hold out my hand toward Liz.
“Give me the next one. You each get three vetoes and then you’re done!”
Grabbing the dress, I spin around in a huff of pink, and almost trip over the
ball gown skirt. Probably a good thing then that this particular dress is
going in the ‘no way’ pile.
Ugh, I hate trying on clothes, so if vetoes will make this less painful
then that’s what we’ll do.
After struggling to get out of the fifth dress, I wish I had picked up an
extra shift at the hospital instead. That way I’d be making money, not
spending it on something I’m uncomfortable in. I look in the mirror and I
am painfully aware of my full curves and the fact that I’m not built like a
supermodel. Stefan has always mentioned that he loves Gisele Bündchen’s
body. I’m curvier and more well-rounded than she is. And I’ve definitely
got more than enough boob to go around. He usually says, ‘more than a
handful, is a waste’, so when it comes to my assets, I found myself wishing
I had a little less. I tend to feel a bit self-conscious about my body,
especially when it comes to events where there is ample opportunity to be
compared to others.
“Okay, I think I’ve found the one.”
We’ve been at this for four hours. Tensions are high, vetoes are low, and
my stomach is growling. I step out in an emerald green dress, long-sleeved
with a V-neck hugging my breasts tightly, and a slit that goes high up my
thigh. It goes perfectly with my dark brown hair and my blue-green eyes. I
really love this dress and might even consider wearing it around the
apartment sometime.
I might have to, considering the price.
“Someone is going to get seriously groped in the limo on the way to the
gala,” Liz says while nodding to show her approval of the dress. “You look
amazing in that.”
Olivia gives me a soft, caring smile. “Stefan is going to love it.”
“I hope so.” I twirl around, admiring the green swoosh of material
surrounding me. “And some groping might not be the worst thing in the
world.” I smile at Liz. “I will consider it a success if Stefan finds it
impossible to keep his hands off me.”
What girl wouldn’t love to know that her boyfriend finds her
irresistible?
 ∞∞∞

The three of us arrive at our apartment in a flurry of shopping bags and

laughter. We live in one of the top floor apartments, with an amazing view
of the City on one side and Central Park on the other. As an added bonus,
we also have access to the roof of the building, along with the two other top
floor apartments.
“So, are you guys sure it’s okay if Stefan stays with us for the
weekend?”
I want to double-check with them on the sleeping arrangements for the
weekend. I am a bit nervous because this is the first time he’ll come to New
York for our visit. We usually meet halfway, or we meet back home over the
holidays. This long-distance relationship has been hard and we haven’t had
a lot of time to see each other. Some days we hardly speak because our
schedules keep clashing. This year we’ve only seen each other twice, and it
is already October. Our plans fell through over the summer because they
offered him an internship in Boston, which he couldn’t turn down.
“Sure thing,” Liz answers while throwing her shopping bags through her
bedroom door. “How else are you going to get some if Mr. MIT is staying
somewhere else? You guys haven’t seen each other in five months.” She
shudders at the mere thought of it. “How you do this long-distance thing, is
beyond me.”
Olivia sets her purse down on the counter and walks over to the kitchen
to get the kettle started for her evening tea. “Stefan is more than welcome,
Amelia.” She stands on her toes to get to her special tea-for-one cup on the
top shelf of the cupboard. “He is an absolute sweetheart, and he would
never be a bother.” I can’t help but think that Olivia would say that about
anyone. She sees the best in people, sometimes to a fault.
“Yeah, not like some of the Neanderthal idiots I bring home on those
evenings my inhibitions decide to take a night off.” Liz joins her in the
kitchen and takes out two wine glasses before opening a bottle of red wine.
“On the plus side, I get to kick them out in the morning. So, I get double the
fun.”
I accept my glass of wine from her, murmuring, “It usually sounds like
more than double the fun through my wall.” I move to the couch and sit
down with my feet underneath me and the pillow on my lap, taking a big
sip of wine.
She doesn’t miss my comment though. “That’s all they’re good for,
babe. Lick’em and kick’em I always say.” She wiggles her eyebrows,
before plopping down next to me.
“There probably won’t be any licking or kicking in my case but I just
wanted to make sure.” Staring down at my glass, I can’t help but fidget with
the stem, twirling it between my fingers. “I decided to talk to him about
next year and what his plans are. He’s always had his entire life planned out
and I don’t know if I even fit into it.”
I take another sip, and look at each of them, anticipating an incredibly
supportive response from Olivia and a sarcastic comment from Liz.
Okay, maybe two sarcastic comments.
Olivia sits down on the couch across from me, blowing on her too hot
tea. “I think you should be honest with him about what you want, and
where you want to be next year. You’ve been together for a little over three
years now and you’ve always talked about getting married someday,
haven’t you?”
“Yes, we have talked about marriage.” I sigh, closing my eyes. “I know
the next step is us living together, me applying for an internship close to
him somewhere, him maybe proposing.” I pause, taking a deep breath.
Suddenly it feels like there’s not enough air in the room. “You know,
something along those lines.”
I rub my hand over my chest. “But why am I not more excited when I
think about it? Or is it just because it’s not real and happening yet? Like I
don’t want to get my hopes up or something?” Neither one of them
responds, so I poke Liz in the side, trying to get her to say something.
“What do you think?”
“Well, you guys have been together forever. You’d pop out very cute
babies. It would also be great if you had a house in the ‘burbs where I could
come hide when all the men I’ve been sleeping with are hounding me for
more.” She sinks down lower into the couch as she hides her face in her
glass, downing her wine in one big gulp.
“I feel a ‘but’ coming on, Liz.”
“But, I don’t know what to tell you, Amelia. Do you want my honest
opinion? Brutally honest? Ugly truth? The real thing?” She stares at me
while waiting for my answer.
 I don’t know if I want to hear it. I know Liz, and when she offers the
ugly truth, she delivers. It’s a little thing we do sometimes. Hearing the ugly
truth gives you the perspective you need to face the issue and deal with it.
Right now, however, I prefer the sarcastic comments.
“Why does it have to be ugly? Can’t you just say something
supportive?” Olivia says, while glancing between us. “This is the dream,
Amelia. You’d have your degree, a diamond ring, and a handsome engineer
who loves you. I can’t see anything wrong with that picture.”
What Olivia is saying is true. This is what life is about. Getting the guy,
marrying him, getting the house with the yard, and the white picket fence.
There would be dogs, carpooling for soccer practice, roast beef on Sundays,
and smiles all around. Stefan is an amazing guy. He is smart, ambitious, and
handsome. A catch in anybody’s books.
“I know. You’re right. Stefan is amazing, and I love him with all my
heart. I might be nervous because it’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”
He is flying in tomorrow, in time for the gala. He’ll be staying for the
weekend and then have to fly back out again on Sunday.
“I’m just unsure because this whole thing is so difficult. We hardly see
each other. And now we’re supposed to decide on our future within two
days, because we’ll probably only get a chance to discuss this again at
Christmas.”
“See, you didn’t even need my ugly truth. You see the ugly part all on
your own. And that’s all that I want. I’m not trying to bring you down or be
super negative, but you need to be realistic about the situation. You and
Stefan never spend time together and it’s unfair to add the pressure of
planning an entire future together on top of your pile of shit to think about.”
Olivia is nodding along as Liz speaks. “Liz has a point. Just give it
some time. Everything will be a little clearer tomorrow when you see
Stefan. You’re both amazing people and deserve to be happy. You will
know if it’s the right time to bring up next year or not.”
I get up from the couch and head to the kitchen to pour myself some
more wine. Thinking about all of this is making me nervous, and I can feel
the familiar twinge of tension in my neck. “God, I need to smoke. I’m
getting a migraine. This is just too much to think about right now.”
“I thought you quit smoking?” Olivia asks, looking from me to Liz.
Liz started smoking in our first year at Columbia, and sometimes I join
in. I wish I could say I am a strong person with no tendencies towards
addiction, but sadly, that is not the case. My addictions change every so
often. But at any given point in time, there will be something I am enjoying
in unhealthy quantities. Whether it’s food, binge watching a series or
cigarettes.
“Yeah, I thought so too. But my anxiety is getting worse again.” I’ve
struggled with anxiety for most of my life, mostly in the form of terrible
neck and shoulder spasms. Other days I get the worst migraines.
As if on cue, the sound of organs playing pulls our focus to my phone
on the counter.
“What the fuck is that?” Liz looks over to the source of the racket.
“Oh, that’s just my new ringtone for my mother,” I say, like it’s not the
worst choice of ringtone known to man. “I changed it to the theme song of
the Phantom of Opera when she calls.”
Olivia stares wide eyed between me and the phone. “Why on earth
would you do that?”
I shrug. “She’s the scary one, the one everyone hides from. She needs
her own theme song. And this way, I can screen her calls from afar.”
My mother. Yeah, she is a major source of all my anxiety.
“Ames, you know the wedding is coming up. She probably just wants to
check on you, make sure you’re all set to go?” Olivia tries to stick up for
her, using my nickname to soften the blow. “She is your mother, and she
wants her daughter to be by her side on her special day.”
“We can all wear black. You know, to show we’re in mourning or
something.” Liz comes up to the counter, sliding the phone toward me to
answer.
“That sounds like an excellent idea. What do you think she’ll do if I toss
my green bridesmaid’s dress and go in a black one instead?” I look at the
screen and press the ignore button. Silencing the ominous organs playing
because there is no way I am picking up the phone. Not tonight.
Liz starts to laugh. “You can even wear a black veil.”
“You can’t do that to your mother!” Olivia tries to stop this idea in its
tracks before we really go through with it. She possesses the ability to see
everyone’s perspective in any situation; she sees all the sides of a story. We
actually have that in common. But not with my mother. I guess it’s too close
to home for me to take a step back and look at it with perspective.
“Why the hell not? She has done way worse than that to me,” I snap, my
voice suddenly awfully close to a shout.
 “I don’t think she sees it that way. Have you tried listening to her side of
the story?” she tries again, keeping her voice soft and low, trying to calm
me. It has the opposite effect on me.
“I don’t give a flying fuck about her side of the story! Her actions had
consequences, one of them being my attitude towards her and the idiot she
is marrying.” I rub my shoulder, feeling the knots already forming.
Lowering my voice, I try to explain to her. “I can’t deal with this now. I
told her I would go. There’s nothing left to say. I don’t want to share this
day with her. She can keep her feelings and happiness all to herself.” I look
to Liz to back me up but she only shrugs.
“Yeah, I can see how you would think I’m your best bet for a backup on
this, but damn babe you’ve got some anger in you,” she says with wide
eyes.
“Just leave it. I don’t want to be angry at you guys too.” Taking a deep
breath to calm myself, I walk towards Liz’s purse. “Where are the fucking
cigarettes?”
“So, we’re not quitting?” she asks carefully.
Glaring at her, I pull out the pack and lighter from her purse.
“I guess that’s a no.” She gives me a little finger-gun action. “I’m right
behind you, babe. Always.”
“Thanks.” Just before I reach the door, I turn around. Olivia is still on
the couch with her now lukewarm tea. “Olivia, I love your soft and caring
heart, but just this once, I wish you could be on my side.” She didn’t expect
that. “Not everything in life is about me, I get that. But damn it, shouldn’t
my mother and my boyfriend for that matter, care more about how their
choices influence my feelings?”
Putting her tea down, she walks over to the counter and takes the glass
of wine from Liz before walking toward me.
“They should, yes.” Olivia turns toward Liz. “Are you coming?”
“Fuck yes! Let’s go!” She walks up to Olivia and places a hand on her
shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re only a smoker if you own your own packet
of cigarettes. These are mine, so you’re safe.”
That got all three of us chuckling, lightening the mood slightly.
“Let’s just do this,” she breathes, before taking a big gulp of wine. I
guess Olivia decided to take one for the team tonight, which I am eternally
grateful for. And besides, I need to sneak in my last cigarette for the
weekend. If Stefan ever found out, he’d divorce me before we even got
married.
 Chapter 2
Neal

The office walls are lined with antique bookcases, filled with books
from our Sicilian heritage. When I was little, I used to look through them
while my Uncle would tell me about our traditions, how we came to be who
we are today, and what is expected of us as Made Men of La Cosa Nostra.
These days it is the place where most of our meetings take place, where I
receive my orders. So, when I was summoned to his office this morning, I
didn’t think anything of it.
Except this time, he dropped a massive bomb on me.
One I was not expecting at all. Which makes me thankful for the giant
mahogany desk between us, because for the first time in my life I want to
reach over and strangle him.
“Are you fucking serious?”
I’m sitting across from my Uncle Romero in his home office. He is
sitting in a giant leather chair, elbows resting on the desk, his fingers
interlaced. His dark eyes bore into me.
“Piccolo, this is important for our Family.” His calm demeanour pisses
me off, even more so when he calls me ‘Piccolo’. Sure, he’s used it as a
term of endearment ever since I can remember, but right now, it feels
condescending. “You are a part of this Family and it’s time you take your
place.”
I launch off the leather chair, causing it to slide across the floor as I
head over to the bar in the corner. The decanters are always filled with
bourbon. Usually, I take the constant presence of alcohol for granted, but
for once I’m glad it’s close by. I pour myself a glass and throw back the
amber liquid, grimacing slightly at the taste.
I wish it was scotch.
The anger inside of me starts to slowly subside. Albeit only slightly.
Breathing in and out slowly, I try to calm myself. If I lose my shit, it’s not
going to help my cause. If I want to get out of this, I must be smart.
“I know the part I must play in our Family, Uncle, but I can’t see how
having a wife has got anything to do with it.” I turn around and face him.
 His greying hair and beard are neatly trimmed as always, not one hair
out of place, always the composed Don of the family. He takes a sip of his
own drink before lighting his pipe, filling the air with the sweet scent of
rum and maple. Ever since I can remember, he has smoked rum and maple
tobacco. The smell has seeped into the walls, making its presence
permanent in this office.
“Our Family has been isolated for too long. We need the alliance to be
rid of the Irish pests in our city.” The corner of his mouth twitches, the only
sign of his irritation. I envy his ability to stay so composed, even when
talking about our enemies.
“So, you want me to marry Arica Bastone.” Saying it out loud sends a
shiver down my spine.
Shit, I don’t want this.
I’m not the marriage type. Never have been and never will be. And now,
of all the potential choices in the city, it has to be Arica. I’ve never liked the
princess type, they’re high maintenance and tend to run to their fathers for
every little thing. No sense of independence or strength.
“I met with her father and we agreed. Arica is young and ready to be
married. Everyone has a part to play in the Family, even the daughters. And
you, Piccolo, will do this for your Family.” He leans back in his chair,
stroking his beard with his left hand, so his signet ring is visible. The ring
that will be passed down to me.
“Before you take your place as Don.”
He knows this is what I want, that is why he is dangling it in front of
me. I’ve wanted to take my place at the head of the Family for years now.
Not because I want to replace my Uncle, but because I’m ready. I feel it in
every fibre of my being. I was born to do this. Releasing a breath, I pour
myself another drink and sit back down.
“I’m ready for it, Uncle.” It’s clear that my compliance is the only thing
he wants from me, and usually I follow orders. But this is different. “I still
don’t understand why I have to get married before you believe me capable
of leading our Family?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I had to get married, and so will
you. An arranged marriage is not out of character for Mafia Families. It has
been a part of our traditions for centuries. It makes us stronger.”
His wife was chosen for him by his father. As the younger son, it wasn’t
as imperative that he married someone of Italian descent, and an
advantageous match was not something the Mafia could look past. So,
Uncle Romero married the daughter of a New York Senator. One who was
likely to climb the ranks and head for the presidency someday. Connections
to the White House are just as important, since well-placed politicians are
always helpful.
Focusing on keeping my composure, I answer, “We are one of the
biggest families in New York. I am your Underboss. I know the ins and outs
of our organization. We have nothing to fear. Our capos and soldiers are
loyal to me, to us.” Surely, we don’t need any more soldiers in our Family.
“Marrying into the Bastone Family will only benefit us. It will add to
our forces. Forces you will need as Don. The Irish will try to make their
move when you take over. And they cannot be allowed to succeed.” His
knuckles turn white as he grips his glass.
“I understand that this alliance will provide us with more men and
weapons, but is it absolutely necessary? We’ve been able to handle the
attacks from the Irish for as long as I can remember.”
The Irish Mob has a big presence in Hell’s Kitchen and they’ve been
after our territory for years. Every now and again they attack our shipments
and our warehouses, trying to cut off our income. The biggest attack on us
was when they attacked one of our private homes, and it changed our
dynamic drastically. But nothing like that has happened since.
“Piccolo, you’re aware of how deceitful the Irish can be. For all we
know, they have a large force gathering to strike at us in the time of
transition. We cannot take that chance.” He looks me square in the eyes.
“You know what happened the last time we underestimated them.”
A knot in my throat makes its sudden appearance, keeping me from
swallowing or even breathing. “They killed my parents.”
“Your father thought he was doing what was best for the Family,
marrying that Irish girl. He wanted to join our territories, to work with
them, and what did he get in return? A bullet through his skull.”
He showed me the pictures of their bodies, not long after it happened.
Not that I needed a photo to remind me, the image of them lying in pools of
their own blood will forever be seared into my brain. But Uncle Romero
wanted to make sure I knew exactly what happened to them and started my
training within a year of their death. There wasn’t any time to waste. I had
to get ready to avenge them.
 “They even killed one of their own when they killed your mother, and
they would have killed you too.”
My uncle told me that he found me lying curled up next to my mother’s
body, covered in her blood, refusing to leave her. They still don’t know how
I was left alive. If I put my mind to it, I’m sure I can recall the events and
how it all happened, but it’s not something I do. I try to keep that night
buried. Thinking about it is not going to help me get revenge, neither is
talking about it. Which is why I have never told my uncle what I remember.
He has his suspicions and believes that my mother hid me from the
attackers. She did. That part, I remember, but I’ve never told him. He was
right in his assumptions. He didn’t need my recollections as well.
“I know, Uncle.” I know.
I’m always reminded of my mother, because I clearly inherited more
from her Irish side than from my father’s Italian side. I have my father’s
perfectly tanned skin and dark hair, but that’s about it. I’m built like my
Irish family. I’ve always been bigger and taller than my Italian brothers in
the Family, that’s why they call me The Irishman. I got my green eyes from
my mother. They look exactly like hers.
“Don’t let your father’s death be in vain. Let us join forces with the
Bastone family, and together we can avenge your father.”
Irritation flares up in me at his words. Conviction courses through me as
I stare into his eyes. “This is my revenge. I will be the one to kill the person
responsible for my parents’ death. They took them from me and for that
they will pay. I don’t need the Bastone’s to do what needs to be done.”
“You will have Arica by your side when you claim your victory.”
I try to stare him down. “Is that truly the only option?”
He isn’t backing down on the matter. His mind is made up about this.
“It is what it is, Piccolo.” His voice is stern as he continues, “You will
need someone in your life who understands our ways, what we stand for,
and what we die for. Marrying someone who is already part of a Mafia
Family will be easier on you. She will know what is expected of her as the
wife of a Don.”
My eyes are drawn back to his hands. They are filled with tattoos of
ancient Italian symbols signifying duty, loyalty and family. Not love and
partnership. It is obvious that his loyalty is with the organization first,
which is the way of La Cosa Nostra. He has the support of my aunt in any-
and everything that he does, even though he does not extend the same
courtesy to her.
“I went through the same thing, when I was your age. And my wife has
proved her worth to me over and over again.”
My aunt is a beautiful woman, who my uncle uses in any way that he
can. When he needs to do business, he always uses her to talk to the men
first, stroke their egos to make them more open to his suggestions and ideas.
She is a weapon in his arsenal as much as his gun.
“You are entitled to a mistress too, Piccolo. Being married isn’t a prison
sentence. Especially not for one of the most powerful Dons in the world.”
His eyes are glistening as he smiles. “Women will be throwing themselves
at your feet and they are all yours for the taking. Arica will know her place
beside you, but she does not have to be the only one who warms your bed.”
My uncle has a mistress, one who’s considerably younger than he is.
My aunt knows about her, but pretends like nothing is wrong, and that it’s
perfectly normal for her husband to have other women in his company. Like
every woman he has, has a purpose to serve. But to me it feels like he is
humiliating my aunt, carrying on with other women right under her nose.
It’s disrespectful.
I’ve always believed in the sanctity of marriage. It is a sacred covenant
between a man and a woman. When you choose someone to be by your
side, you are supposed to honor her. Protect her. Die for her. That is why I
have vowed to never get married. I cannot give my heart to a woman when
it already belongs to La Cosa Nostra. I am loyal to our Family, I will honor
and protect our Family.
I will die for our Family.
Uncle Romero has obviously already made the deal and I have no
choice in the matter. He is hellbent on this alliance. Maybe there are ways
for me to postpone the wedding for as long as possible. Maybe I can show
him I can be Don and wipe out the Irish without the help of the Bastone
Family. If that is my only option, then that is what I’ll do.
“When is this wedding supposed to take place?” I ask, hoping the
answer will give me more than a few weeks, not an uncommon timeframe
for Italian arranged marriages.
He smiles, probably thinking that he’s got me hooked on the idea. “We
have a couple of months to plan an extravagant event, to mark the occasion.
At the wedding reception, I will announce my retirement and you will be
able to take the reins.”
That is the only thing I’m interested in. And I’ll make sure he’ll be
making that announcement over the mangled bodies of our enemies rather
than wedding cake and champagne. But since I still need to figure out what
the fuck my first move is going to be, I’ll play along with this little spiel.
“In the meantime, is there anything else you need from me, Uncle?”
Hopefully, there’s nothing so I can get to planning.
“Nothing Piccolo, nothing at all. I am immensely proud of you and I
hope you know that I have always considered you my son.”
I look him straight in the eye. “I will not let you down, Uncle.”
I down my drink and stand up to leave. I must find Killian and Hunter
so we can get this fucking engagement cancelled. And there’s only one way
to do that.
Find and kill the Irish Don.

∞∞∞

“You? Get fucking married?”

Killian is standing in the back of a truck, a cigarette hanging from his
mouth and his dark hair blows in the cool breeze, as he stops mid-count
upon hearing my news. There’s a drug shipment that needs to go out
tonight, and it’s all hands on deck. I like working alongside my men. It
builds camaraderie, which in turns builds loyalty. And in this life, loyalty is
everything.
He chuckles and points at me with his cigarette rearing hand. “You,
brother, know fuck all about marriage.” He inhales deeply and blows out a
billow of smoke. “Killing, on the other hand, that’s something you’re
excellent at.”
“If you just listened, dick, you’d have heard me say exactly that.” I
shove him out of the back of the truck. He stumbles on the floor, his leather
jacket hooking on one the crates, effectively pulling him to a stop. “And
stop fucking up on the count. We have to get this shit done.”
Just talking about marriage is making me nervous and I run my hands
through my hair, as if that will make it go away. “And I’m not planning to
go through with this engagement. I’m going to find my parent’s killer and
bring his head to my uncle.” I hope to God this will work, because the only
way I’m making my way down an aisle is if I’m in a body bag.
Killian’s face softens slightly at the mention of my parents, and he lets
out a low whistle. “I can’t believe he is making you marry Arica Bastone. I
mean, sure, she is hot as fuck. But other than that, I don’t see the appeal.”
He’s thinking with his dick again. Which is not uncommon for him. No
one would argue her fuckability, but marrying her would be a whole
different ball game.
“What do you need us to do? You know we’ve got your back in
anything and everything.”
Hunter is leaning against a mountain of heroin, like it’s the hood of a
car, and not something that would land him in a high security prison for life.
His blond hair looks a bit disheveled, and he’s still in his work-out clothes.
He’s been working out more than usual for the last couple of weeks, which
tells me something is bugging him again. But I know he’ll come to me
when he’s ready.
“That’s what I want to hear.” I nod at him and send a glare in Killian’s
direction. He’s sitting on top of a bulk of heroin bricks, smoking. “I need
you guys to keep an eye out for the Irish informants. They’re constantly
sniffing around my businesses.”
“We just need one. We’ll rough him up a bit and start following leads.”
Hunter understands my meaning, as always.
These two men have been by my side since I can remember. He and
Killian are two of the top Capo Regimes in the Family. They climbed the
ranks with me. The three of us were Made Men by the time we were 17
years old. So, it’s no surprise that we held some of the highest rankings in
our Family.
“So, you mean to take out the reason behind the engagement?” Killian
gets back into the truck, a little more serious now that he finished a cigarette
or two.
“That’s the plan, yes. Romero wants to form an alliance to take out the
Irish Mob once and for all. But if we can get to the head of their operations,
and take him out, we wouldn’t have to risk an all-out war involving two of
the five Families in the city. They’d be in a vulnerable position, making it
easier for us to take them out altogether. Without the help of the Bastone’s.
We cut off the head of the snake and end the engagement in one move.”
 “How do you propose we do it with just the three of us?” Hunter asks,
focusing on the logistics of the situation. He is always focused on business
and the task at hand. Hunter has the ability to zone in on a target and not let
up before it’s dealt with. Killian has the same ability, but with women.
“What the fuck do you mean we must to do this on our own?” Killian
glances between the two of us before he sighs and lights another cigarette.
Those things will be the death of him, I swear.
“Killian, will you calm the fuck down? Why are you so tense? It’s not
like we haven’t done business on our own before,” I retort. I’m a bit
worried about his reaction. He’s never like this, he’s usually the first one on
the scene, taking out targets in a matter of seconds.
“Okay, listen. You’re an amazing guy. If your Uncle wasn’t going to be
my father-in-law, I’d marry you.” That had me rolling my eyes. He can
always go two miles too far. “But the fact of the matter is, that this is bigger
than just following some leads and taking someone out. This is the head of
the Irish Mob, it’s not like we’re going to find him in Central Park feeding
the ducks and whack him from behind a tree. He is protected by many,
many.” He inhales and blows out another cloud of smoke. “Many layers of
people.”
Hunter straightens and gets on the truck with us. “The idiot’s got a
point. Why do you think all the Dons in New York haven’t been killed or
captured in the last forty years? They’ve learned a lot since the last major
Mafia fuck up in the city.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I know that.”
I just didn’t want to think about it. Thinking about how complex this
plan actually is just reminding me of the time limit that constrains me.
All three of us are quiet for a minute, thinking of a possible plan, when
out of nowhere Killian yells at me. “So why the fuck don’t you just marry
the broad, and get it over and done with?”
“Jesus, Killian, can’t you ever say something like a normal human
being,” I say, through clenched teeth.
God, sometimes I really want to punch him in the face.
My facial expression must’ve been very clear because Hunter asks,
“Are you going to kill him, or should I just shoot him in the dick, right
here.” He starts taking out his gun before I hold up my hand.
“He’s not wrong, he’s just a moron.” Sighing, I continue, “It would
certainly be easier to just marry Arica. To kill the head of the Irish Mob
without permission would be going against the rules of the Commission.”
The Dons of the five Mafia Families in New York formed the
Commission. They did this after La Cosa Nostra took a big hit, losing
leaders and soldiers to the Feds. So, to promote the relationships between
the Families the Dons all need to work together. And one of the main rules
is, no killing without permission. When a high-ranking Family member is
killed, no one makes a move to avenge them or retaliate. It’s known by
everyone that permission was given and that person deserves death in the
eyes of the Dons. If the Commission says it is to be done, everyone listens.
Their word is law.
“Shit, going against the Commission is suicide and you know it.”
Hunter looks me in the eye, searching for any speck of doubt regarding my
decision. He won’t find any because even if this is dangerous, I’m
determined to do this. So, he takes Killian’s cigarette from him and inhales
deeply. “Then it is what it is.”
“What?” Killian answers incredulously. “You’re not serious?”
“This is about more than marriage to me. This is about my parents.” His
face softens again when I mention them.
“I know you’ve suffered a great loss. Nobody understands this better
than me, brother.” Killian also lost both his parents by the time he was
thirteen, but by then he was already part of the Family, so he had a place to
stay and people who took care of him. We were brothers in every sense of
the word.
“This is about more than loss. It’s about the principle of the matter. Why
did they go back on their word? An agreement was made between the
Castellano Family and the Irish, which was sealed in marriage. They broke
that agreement the night they murdered my family.” Inside, I’m seething. A
burning sensation forms in my chest, and I feel like I could rip someone
apart at the moment. “So, fuck the Commission. They didn’t have any say in
the matter when my parents were killed, so they have no say now.”
Silence follows for a minute, before Killian breaks it again, luckily this
time, in a normal tone of voice.
“So, it’s just the three of us.” Killian’s statement makes me feel a bit
more at ease. As long as they have my back in this, I’ll get it done. I nod at
him and he shrugs with a sigh.
“Where’s a bottle of Scotch when we need it?” He pulls a small flask
from his leather jacket, opens it and takes a swig. “I guess this will have to
do,” he says as he passes it to Hunter.
“The three of us,” Hunter repeats after Killian. He takes a sip from the
flask and hands it to me. I take it from him and look at the two men I
consider my brothers.
“The three of us.”
It’s decided then.
 Chapter 3
Amelia

It feels like there are a million birds flying around in my stomach. I

haven’t seen Stefan in five months. We haven’t spoken that much and now
we’re meeting at the Met for the gala. His flight is coming in late, so he is
getting dressed on the plane and meeting me there. This is not ideal at all
but seeing as he still had a class he didn’t want to skip today, this is the way
this particular cookie is crumbling.
“Don’t stress so much, babe. You look gorgeous. And if he can’t see
that, he’s an ass.” Liz hands me a glass of champagne. “Here, drink this.”
The limousine we’re in apparently comes with a fully stocked minibar
in the back. Olivia and Liz are sitting with their dates and I’m clutching my
champagne like it’s a life raft.
“You guys are going to see each other, and all the nervousness will fall
away. You’ll see, you’re perfect for each other.” Olivia is a hopeless
romantic. She has always believed in a fairytale-ending for all of us, even
though my boyfriend is never around, and Liz has never been in a
relationship for more than five minutes. The odds are that Olivia will be the
one who finds her Prince Charming and rides off into the sunset. Not me or
Liz.
The limo comes to a stop and as I get out, I immediately start looking
around, hoping to see him. There are red carpets up the steps, lights, and
people in all kinds of couture. The Met is a beautiful building, but at night
with lights accentuating the architectural features, it’s absolutely
breathtaking.
At the top of the steps, next to the columns, I see Stefan. He looks so
handsome in his tuxedo. He’s all curly blonde hair and perfect teeth as he
smiles down at me. Holding my dress, I climb the steps to meet him.
“Well, hello there, handsome,” I say, looking into his familiar blue eyes.
The nervousness in my stomach settles a little at seeing him here, I can’t
believe I doubted he’d make it. A part of me thought that I’d be here, alone.
Stood up by him.
 “You look nice, Ames.” He pulls me in for a hug and whispers in my
ear,“I’m not going to kiss you now. There are way too many people around.
I’ll greet you properly when we get back to the apartment.”
My heart sinks a little as he pulls back from me. He kisses me on the
cheek and offers me his arm to escort me inside. I know he doesn’t really
care for PDA, but we haven’t seen each other in so long. I had hoped that he
missed me so much that nothing would stop him from kissing me.
Apparently not.
His blue eyes peer down at me. They have these little wrinkles next to
them from smiling, and it makes my knees go weak.
“I am just so happy that you could make it, I have missed you.” I sigh as
I glance down. “So, so much.” He gives me another peck on the cheek
before we make our way inside.
I guess that will have to do.
We find our assigned tables for the sit-down dinner before the speeches
and the dancing. Olivia brought a guy she knows from class. They usually
partner up in most of their assignments and they get along really well. The
guy Liz brought looks like he could be part of a crime crew of some sort.
Even though this is a formal event, he has an earring in his ear and rings
adorning his tattooed fingers. Where the hell she digs these guys up, heaven
alone knows.
We sit down and the servers bring around champagne. I take another
glass, already sensing the first one’s effects on me, and place my hand on
Stefan’s thigh. He twitches at my touch and I move my hand inward,
grazing his crotch. I love seeing him react to my touch. It reassures me in
some way.
He gulps and asks me, “How is the wedding planning coming along?”
That makes me stop my little adventure immediately. “I’m sure
everything is on track. Will you still be able to make it? It’s in a few weeks,
remember?” I hope he doesn’t back out of this at the last minute. I could use
some support on that day.
“Yes, sure. But if I didn’t make it, it wouldn’t be the end of the world,
would it? I mean, you’d still have Liz and Olivia with you. And it’s your
mother’s wedding, you’d be surrounded by family.”
He just doesn’t get it.
“So how are things going at MIT, Stefan?” Olivia asks, thankfully
interrupting us. She speaks loud enough so that the entire table would be
part of the conversation. She wants to include him in our little crowd and
make him feel comfortable. This is one reason I love her. She is always
thoughtful like that. Me, on the other hand, I can’t get out of my head long
enough to enjoy the evening.
“It’s been amazing.” His eyes light up, and he leans forward, effectively
shifting my hand off his thigh. “I can’t imagine being anywhere else at the
moment. One of my Professors approached me to be his research assistant
in this paper he is writing on Nano-Architectures in Tissue Engineering,
starting next year.”
I sense Olivia glancing my way while Stefan is busy describing his new
research project with an abundance of excitement, but I can’t bring myself
to meet her eyes. I get up and excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room.
When I turn around, I see Liz get up to follow me, while Olivia is still
engaging in the conversation with Stefan. He is obviously not fazed by my
departure.
“That jackass!” Liz almost knocks the bathroom door off its hinges, and
she smacks her clutch on the bathroom counter. “What the fuck is wrong
with him?”
A sigh escapes me as tears well up in my eyes. “You know what I
think?”
My voice is soft and low. I just feel tired as I look in the mirror and
wipe at a tear before more start to follow and ruin my make-up. “I think he
doesn’t even realize what’s happening. To him, this is the perfect situation,
and it fits into his life plan. He’s always wanted an opportunity like this. I
don’t think he has even given a thought to how it would affect our
relationship.”
She is standing behind me, looking at our reflection in the mirror. She is
so beautiful, with her big brown eyes as she exudes confidence from every
part of her body. I can’t imagine that something like this would ever happen
to her. No one would forget that they were in love with her.
“You deserve more than this, you’re worth more than just being an
afterthought. I wish you could be with someone who would rearrange the
world if that’s what it takes to be with you.”
This has always been difficult for me to explain to her. This year on
Valentine’s Day we were supposed to meet each other for a romantic
weekend in Vermont. I booked a room at the B&B in advance and
everything was set for us to meet there. But two weeks beforehand he
signed up for a lecture about using one of these ‘tissue chips’ at the
International Space Station. He forgot about Valentine’s Day and our plans
along with it.
“He’s not a bad guy, Liz. He really isn’t.” I used to admire Stefan’s
ambition and his constant need for something more. But the more it
happens, the more I feel like I’m not enough to make him happy. “I love
him so much.” Tears start welling up, “But I guess I’m just not enough.”
“Don’t even start with that. You and Olivia may think the sun shines out
of that guy’s ass, but I can’t see past the fact that he makes my friend feel
crap about herself.” She’s starting to get all riled up and if I don’t diffuse
this situation, this whole evening is going to end badly. For all of us.
I wipe at my eyes, reapply some mascara and lipstick and put a smile on
my face. “Let’s just go back, enjoy our dinner together, and dance until we
have to take our heels off. If anything, this just makes me determined to talk
to him about our future plans. I won’t let him leave without getting clarity
on where we stand and where we’re headed.”
“That I can live with. As long as you throw a few ‘fucks’ into the
conversation, you know, to let him know you’re serious and not dicking
around.”
“Oh God, he’ll die if I start swearing at him.”
We do a last check and start for the door. “So, let me get this straight.
You’re worried about the swearing but the smoking and the tattoo we got
together are fine?” She runs into me as I come to a halt and pinch the bridge
of my nose.
“Fuck!” I whisper-scream. “I forgot about my damn tattoo!”
She pushes me out the door and chuckles. “Please, can I be there when
you tell him?”

∞∞∞

After the gala, we all stand outside on the steps of the Met. The cool fall
breeze is causing a shiver to run through me. Stefan notices and puts his
arm around me, pulling me in closer to the heat of his body as we wait for
the limo to take us back to the apartment.
 “Oh, come on, you guys. Let’s just go out for a bit.” Liz gives us an
imploring look. “We got all dressed up and for what? To sit around some
museum with a bunch of old people?” Her nose scrunches up as she pulls a
face.
“We can go to this gentlemen’s club,” Liz’s date suggests, an impish
grin on his face. “It’s not far from here, actually. It’s called Mavericks.”
She looks up at him as if he just discovered the cure to cancer. “Yes!”
she shouts. “See William, I knew you were good for something.” She turns
to us, just as our limo arrives. “Come on, let’s go!”
None of us are too sure about this plan. Especially Olivia and her date,
who look like they might throw up at any moment.
As we’re all seated, Liz shouts, “Driver! Take us to Mavericks.” He
apparently knows the place, because we take off in a direction, away from
the apartment.
Stefan leans in to whisper in my ear, “We don’t have to go with, do we?
Can’t we just make our way to the apartment after we drop these guys off?”
It is all I have wanted to hear the entire evening, but now that he’s
saying it, I don’t know if I have the energy to start our conversation about
next year.
“Let’s just go with them, for a little while at least,” I say, peering up at
him through my lashes. “It won’t be that long, Liz is pretty buzzed already,
so she’ll want to go home soon. An hour at most.”
He laces his fingers through mine and draws my hand up to his lips,
kissing the back of my hand. “Okay, then we’ll wait a little while longer.”
The car slows and stops in front of a building with a sign that reads
‘Mavericks’. It looks extremely upper class from the outside, and relief
floods me when I realize we aren’t overdressed. As we walk through the
doors my assumption about the dress-code is confirmed, everyone is
dressed in formal attire… except for the people who work here.
I’ve never been in a club like this before and I know that this is a first
for the people accompanying me as well. Liz has an enormous smile on her
face while Olivia looks a bit taken aback. It’s clear that Stefan doesn’t know
how to react to the scene in front of us. Darkly lit inside, warm lights play
off the bodies on display. There are women in lingerie manoeuvring around
the little cocktail tables with their trays filled with champagne flutes.
Olivia’s gaze swiftly switches between the crowd and the door, for a second
it appears like she might bolt. Luckily, a lady dressed in a white shift moves
towards us before anyone can leave. She is absolutely beautiful, exuding
sexiness from every pore in her body, not unlike the other women walking
around.
“Good evening and welcome to Mavericks. Can I interest you in a tour
through the club?” She flips her soft blonde waves over her shoulder,
greeting us with a red lipped smile. We must stick out like sore thumbs if
she’s this eager not to lose business.
We’re all quiet, not knowing who should say what to the woman.
Luckily, William takes the lead and steps forward. “It won’t be necessary. I
can take them through the club. I’m looking for Hunter anyway. Is he
upstairs?”
My brows raise. I guess he more than frequents the place if he knows
the people by name.
“Sure.” She flashes him a smile, gesturing behind her toward one of the
spiral staircases. “He’s on the second floor.”
There are bouncers stationed at the stairs to regulate the people going
up. Looking up at the second floor, you can see it consists of different
landings connected by walkways. The landings are filled with dance floors
and private booths. All along the walkways there are more women in
lingerie, moving and dancing, locking eyes with the people downstairs, like
sirens trying to lure their victims upstairs.
“If we stay on the ground floor we can eat, drink and enjoy the view,”
William says, as he gestures toward the tables and the women dancing
along the walkways.
Their bodies are moving in perfect rhythm to the music as their hands
move over their bodies, just enough to entice you, to make you want more. I
lock eyes with a woman with long wavy brown hair. She sucks on her
finger and trails it down her beautiful body, over her nipple, straight down
between her legs. Clenching my thighs, I tear my gaze away from her.
Shit, they’ve got me all hot and bothered and I haven’t even been here a
full five minutes.
“You pay extra for entrance to the second floor. There you get access to
the ladies you see on display. The third floor is the VIP entrance.” He’s
moving upstairs with Liz right behind him. “I have someone I need to talk
to. You guys can stay here if you want?”
I will never admit this to my boyfriend, but it’s hard to resist the
beckoning feel this club is radiating. You can see how the people are
dancing on the dance floors upstairs. They are pressed together, breathing
each other in, as they drown in the seductive atmosphere. I want to do that,
I want to let go.
But I’m hyper aware of the person standing next to me, holding me
back. I’m sure that if Stefan wasn’t here with me, this night would go a lot
different.
“We’ll go upstairs with you. We can have our drink and dance a bit while
you’re busy.” I don’t want to give Stefan the chance to opt out, so I grab his
arm and move toward the stairs.
“Only one drink, right, Ames?” He seems a bit unsure of himself. I
don’t know if he really feels uncomfortable or if he is only pretending to be
uncomfortable for my sake.
“Sure, one drink.”
As we climb up the staircase, the dance floor comes into view. Two
women are dancing with each other, their hands freely roaming over one
another. They are totally immersed in each other when a man approaches
and joins them, kissing one and then the other.
“Maybe we could even stay a bit longer?” I glance over my shoulder at
Stefan’s reaction to the scene in front of us. His gaze is lowered toward the
staircase, a bright red blush covering his neck and ears, as he seems focused
on trying not to miss a step.
We’ve been together for three years now, but our sex life is basically
non-existent with us being apart all the time. We’ve tried doing it over the
phone, texting, calling, video-calling, but it always ends up being more
awkward than sexy. Needless to say, we aren’t very open with each other on
a sexual level. So, to admit to him that I find this place enticing and alluring
would tell him something about myself that I’m not too sure he would like.
“Will you get us a drink?” I ask Stefan. “Olivia and I will find us some
seats.”
Olivia hasn’t said a word since we walked through the door. We make
our way to one of the private booths where we have a clear view of the bar
and the dance floor. To the far-left side there is another staircase with men
standing at the foot of it. My guess is that it would lead to the VIP area. It’s
not visible from down here, which makes me wonder what happens there.
Not knowing makes me want to go up there and have a look around. But
seeing as I barely made it to the second floor with Stefan, I’m going to
enjoy this and not push my luck any further.
 “Olivia, are you okay?” My friend looks a little shocked. I hope this
doesn’t scare her too much since I’m pretty sure that this is what the inside
of most men’s minds look like. And if she can’t handle this, then she would
be in for a major surprise when the time comes.
“Yeah, I’m great.” She clears her throat and lowers her head toward me.
“There’s a guy at the bar that won’t stop staring at me.”
Looking over at the bar, it’s easiest to spot our dates, since they are the
two men who stand out like sore thumbs, trying to get the barman’s
attention. The same barman who is occupied by Liz, as she leans over the
counter, no doubt using her cleavage to get a drink. William is next to her,
clearly arguing with another man. The man Olivia is referring to, is leaning
against the bar counter, smoking a cigarette and staring shamelessly at her,
while his friend is lining up shots for them.
No one would blame him for his staring. She is a gorgeous blond
woman who doesn’t know what she does to the men around her. I feel her
tense next to me as he straightens and puts out his cigarette before heading
our way.
The man who comes up to our table is tall and all lean muscle. He’s
wearing a light grey suit which accentuates his blonde hair and grey eyes. I
can feel Olivia trying to make herself smaller next to me, clearly
intimidated by the intensity of this man.
He holds out his hand to her. “Would you like to dance with me?”
She doesn’t answer him at all. Olivia just looks at him for a few
seconds, not breaking his stare. She leans forward and for a moment I’m
sure she is going to tell him to leave, but instead she places her hand in his
and allows him to lead her toward the dance floor. He guides her in such a
way, his arms encircling the space around her, so that no one can touch her.
Then he carefully positions his hands on her hips and pulls her close to him,
carefully, like he’s afraid she might break or disappear. I half expect her to
push him away, but she melts into him instead as they start moving together.
What just happened?
I can’t believe my eyes. I’m a bit dumbfounded. She isn’t the type of
woman who would dance with someone she doesn’t know, let alone in a
place like this, while being on a date with someone else. This guy clearly
has an effect on her like no other. Olivia looks small and innocent in his
arms, but he takes the lead and guides her. His hands never stray from her
hips, as he holds her with his eyes. The energy radiating off the two of them
is not something I would ever have associated with Olivia.
Even with the loud music pounding against my ears, my attention is
drawn away from Olivia and her suitor, toward the bar. William starts to
argue with his companion, very loudly I might add, as he rolls up his
sleeves, getting ready for a fight. I get up and walk toward Liz to get her out
of there.
This is what happens when you take the first fucker you see out on a
date.
She’ll be chasing him off tomorrow morning anyway, so she might as
well start early, seeing as he can’t behave himself in public.
Just as I reach her, William throws a punch, which sends his target
falling toward us. We stumble and would’ve fallen if it weren’t for the pair
of strong arms that catches us both. Looking up at our rescuer, we see that
it’s the guy who was lining up the shots. He left his drinks to help us up.
“Are you okay?” he asks, with obvious concern written on his
handsome face.
We hardly have time to respond with a quick nod before he goes over to
William and his companion and pulls them apart. He motions toward the
bouncer standing close by.
“Throw these fuckers out would you,” he says, holding them up by their
collars.
“Wait, hold up.” He grabs William by the arm and looks at the tattoo on
his wrist. “Well, if it isn’t a little Irish Pride.”
William looks like he is going to wet himself. He shakes his head
frantically. “No, you’re mistaken.”
“I think we should have a little conversation, don’t you?” William
hesitantly looks over at Liz and back at the man holding him. He notices
where William’s gaze goes and adds, “She stays.”
William doesn’t say another word as security all but drags him out. I
can’t help but wonder what that was all about, what did he mean by Irish
Pride? William didn’t even try to stay for Liz, but clearly, she doesn’t mind.
She’s already got her eyes set on a new target.
“I’ve never had someone else throw out my date before, this is a first,”
Liz says, trying to break the tension that filled the air. “Now I have nothing
to look forward to tomorrow morning.”
 Our rescuer turns to her, gives her a once over, the corner of his mouth
lifting in a roguish smile. “I could help you out in that department.”
Liz replies by giving him a wicked smile that speaks of all the dirty
things she is going to do to him. She doesn’t even know his name, but
knowing her, it doesn’t matter. He’ll still be leaving our apartment in the
morning.
Oh God. There goes another one.
I need to get out of here and find Stefan. He was right. Coming here was
a bad idea. Olivia has already succumbed to the atmosphere of the club, and
Liz... Well, Liz has her new conquest exactly where she wants him. They
are already wrapped up in each other. He’s pressing her up against the bar,
making out like no one is watching.
Shit, I need to leave.
As I turn around to find Stefan, I bump straight into something hard.
Rock hard. I feel two enormous hands on my arms pushing me back, giving
me an unrestricted view of the pillar of a man in front of me.
What the fuck is up with this place?
 Chapter 4
Neal

I have been holed up in my office at the club since five o’clock this
morning. Business has been going extremely well the last couple of years,
despite the constant attempts from the Irish Mob to derail us. We own most
of the club scene in Manhattan, as well as restaurants all over New York. Of
course, those represent the ‘legitimate’ part of the business. The rest
remains unseen to the outside world.
We have a few events lined up, with important people in attendance.
Not to mention important meetings with our heroin suppliers in South East
Asia and Colombia. I must make sure everything is in place. I will not let
business go south on my watch.
As Underboss of the Family, I am in charge of most, if not all, of our
businesses. Some of it falls to the Capos, but I still oversee everything. My
uncle seldom handles matters on his own anymore. He’s been taking me to
his meetings and events since before I was Made, even if his Consigliere
didn’t agree with his decision. He was adamant about me learning from him
first-hand. The last couple of years I have been going in his stead, running
things on his behalf, as a sort of trial run. And no one can say that I haven’t
been successful in everything I’ve done.
Sure, there’s been some hiccups with our Consigliere. He is not ready to
step down at all, but it’s common for the new Don to choose his own
Consigliere when he takes his place as the Head of the Family. I guess the
fact that his position is in jeopardy plays a major part in Salvatore’s dislike
towards me. When I am sent out to do business on my own, he is always
lurking in the shadows somehow, waiting for me to fuck up. But I won’t, I
am always focused. The organization is what is important to me.
So why don’t I just marry Arica? According to my uncle, it’s what’s best
for the Family.
But there has to be another way for me to get what I want. For now, I’m
going to have to play my part until everything else falls into place. There’s
too much at stake for this not to work out. It needs to happen for me to be
who I am supposed to be. To take my rightful place in the Family.
 Maybe then all will feel right in the world.
I get up and head over to the bar in my office to pour myself a drink.
Sipping my Scotch and allowing the familiar burn to wash away all
thoughts of the engagement, I walk over to my one-way window
overlooking my club. It’s a busy night again. This club has made us a lot of
money. It’s not that hard to believe, sex sells.
There are people dancing and grinding everywhere, the booths are
filled, and the girls are working the room. At the bar I can see Hunter with
Killian, who is lining up shots for their little drinking game. As long as they
don’t get fucked on the job, I don’t have a problem with a bit of fun on the
floor. It’s important for them to blend, people don’t like too much security
around or they won’t let go and enjoy.
Hunter just got side-tracked by some pretty blond. Chuckling at him, I
undo the top buttons of my dress shirt, feeling like I might want to join
them out there. It isn’t a coincidence that his name is Hunter, he is always
on the prowl. He possesses a certain charm when it comes to women. They
find it extremely hard to resist him. That’s why he is also in charge of the
girls at the clubs. He knows how to talk to them, and how to deal with them
in a way that makes everyone happy. They can’t bend over backwards fast
enough to please him. He usually makes sure that they know what they’re
doing and that they are thoroughly practiced in the art of seduction. A girl
who can’t seduce the men, or even the women, held no value to my
business.
My attention is drawn to Killian, who is busy breaking off a fight.
Something about one of the two men has caught his eye, and he looks like
he just won the jackpot. Grabbing my jacket, I walk out of my office. I
catch the soldati just as they’re busy escorting the man out. He doesn’t
appear to be bothered by his handlers, but he freezes when he sees me
approaching.
Looks like he knows who he’s dealing with.
I stop them and glare at the culprit. He doesn’t seem familiar in any
way, but there has to be something about him, otherwise why is he here.
He’s a bit ruffled up, but that’s about it. As I look him over, my eyes are
drawn to the tattoo of the Irish flag on his wrist.
“I guess the luck of the Irish is on my side tonight.” Looks like we
found our informant faster than we thought. He picked the wrong night to
come sniffing around my club. I make sure he can see my eyes when I say,
“Take him downstairs.”
Suddenly his demeanour changes into that of a frightened little mouse.
Skittering and struggling between his handlers. And it brings a smile to my
face.
“Ah, I see you’ve heard of me.”
“I meant no trouble, please,” he begs. “I’ll leave.”
He tries to bargain for his freedom, but he should have known that when
you’re part of the Mob, you’re bound to get a little run in with death.
Sooner or later, it catches up with you. I guess for him, it’s sooner.
“I’ll be down in a minute.” I dismiss my men by nodding at them. His
protests loud and clear as they start to pull him towards the downstairs
entrance.
I make my way through the crowd on the dance floor to get to Hunter
and Killian. Bodies are rubbing and bumping against me, but I feel nothing.
I zone out. My thoughts are with the Irish informant and all the things I’m
going to do, to make him tell me all I need to know. I won’t let this
opportunity slip by. Tonight is the night I find a way to get to Seamus
Flynn.
My eyes are on Killian at the bar, practically dry humping the woman
he’s with.
Where the hell did she come from?
Preoccupied with Killian’s skills at picking up random women in mere
seconds, I didn’t notice the obstacle in my way. She turns around and
crashes squarely into my chest. I grab her arms to push her away from me,
not in the mood for someone trying to chat me up in some way. But as I
glance down to see who it is, I find myself staring into a pair of stormy eyes
unlike I’ve ever seen before.
They are the most intense mixture of green and blue, swirling around.
Like the two colors were fighting, and only one of them would come out
victorious. I felt a kinship with them, two parts ever at war. They mirror the
silent storm constantly brewing inside of me, begging for release. Suddenly
I am reluctant to let go. I want to stare into them some more, to learn how
they might change as they look back at me. To see which color might win.
“Uh, sorry I didn’t see you.” She looks up into my eyes for a moment
and then down again. Depriving me of the storm in her irises.
 I follow her eyes down and stare for a second too long at the way her
dress plunges between her full breasts. The green from her dress is
complimenting the light flush on her skin perfectly. Making me wonder
what she will look like if I were to run my hands over her body, if I were to
put her breasts in my mouth.
She tries to break free from my grip, but I don’t want to let go just yet.
She pauses and tries again. “I just want to go…” She tries to motion around
me as best she can with her arms being restrained against her body. “…that
way. That direction. Over there. Not here. Away from them.” I glance over
her shoulder and see Killian is still making out with his conquest like
they’re teenagers. He sure knows how to pick ‘em.
I pull her a bit closer and her body feels amazing so close to mine. I
lower my mouth to her ear so that she can hear me above the music. “Does
that kind of thing make you uncomfortable?”
If those two making out were hard for her to watch, I can’t imagine
what she is doing in a place like this. And she definitely won’t like what
was going on in my mind.
Easy there, Neal.
She frowns, as if I said something ridiculous. “Not at all,” she answers
matter-of-factly. “I need to get back to my boyfriend.” That statement pulls
me out of my trance, and I drop my hands.
A boyfriend. Of course, someone like her isn’t here alone.
My hands suddenly feel empty without touching her, and I can’t help
but want to reach out again. But before I can say or do anything else, she
moves around me toward another man who smiles at her and hands her a
drink.
I want to punch him in the fucking face.
The fact that he gets to take her home tonight irritates the living shit out
of me. Just as I’m about to turn back around, she glances over her shoulder
at me. Those eyes capture me again, and I hold her gaze for a second
longer, trying to get a little more of her before I have to get back to... What
am I here for again?
I tear my gaze away from her and shake my head as if to clear it from
all these insane thoughts. She’s a stranger to me. It must be because I
haven’t gotten laid in two months. That’s the only reason for my reaction to
her. I turn to Killian, taking a deep breath and pushing the images of her in
my bed, out of my mind.
 “Killian.”
He pulls away from his girl and looks at me with amusement all over
his face. He is clearly enjoying himself with this one. Unfortunately, the fun
is over.
“Get Hunter, we have work to do.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” He lets go of the girl, albeit a bit reluctantly, but not
before taking her number. I should’ve known. Killian isn’t one to let
someone go once he starts something. He is like a missile, not stopping
until his target is reached.
Hunter already sees me and is heading over toward us. “Do you need
us?” he asks, looking between the two of us, trying to read what this is
about. He obviously has no idea that we have an informant to rattle up,
which is a bit out of character for him. The blonde must’ve really been
something to keep him so occupied.
“Yes, we have business downstairs,” I answer, and Hunter smiles at that.
He is always ready when it comes to violence. You can ask him to do
anything and know that it will get done. No questions asked.
As we head downstairs, I struggle to get that woman out of my head. I
want her. It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced that kind of
attraction. I’m not one for relationships, so the women I’m with know our
dealings are sexual in nature. Nothing more, nothing less. But nothing I’ve
experienced with others compares to the raw magnetic pull I felt a few
minutes ago.
I can’t believe I let her go.
I never let go of something I want. Ever.
Fuck, I can’t believe she’s taken.
Not like that has stopped me before. There’s a certain appeal to fucking
a woman who belongs to someone else. I like knowing that they come
looking for something they can’t get from the man they already have. And
the next morning she is sure to be gone and I never have to hear from her
again. But this woman...it irks me that she belongs to someone else.
I want to claim her. I want her to belong to me and only me.
Not tonight, though. Tonight I’ll have to settle with taking out my
frustrations on our Irish friend.
“Are you ready for this? Or are you two still walking around with hard-
ons?” I need them to focus. Perhaps I need to focus, since I can still feel the
effects of that woman straining against my pants.
 “Don’t worry about me, Boss. I’m here. Hundred percent,” Killian
answers, his mask slipping on as we approach the door to where our little
problem is being held.
Hunter just nods. Already ready to go. One thing about my men is that
they know how to have fun, but business always comes first. If it had been
any other way, they wouldn’t hold the positions they currently do.
I open the door and stroll in. The room is empty except for the man
pacing in front of me. I’m not in the habit of holding people in dungeons
below the ground. When prisoners are surrounded by old dried up blood,
human excrement and the remains of previous inhabitants of the cells, it
makes them give up on life that much faster. I like using clean, white,
soundproof rooms. That way they have no idea what’s coming. There’s
always a flicker of hope in their eyes when they see the room, and I get to
enjoy watching it die.
As the man realizes he’s not alone, he suddenly stops pacing and starts
to retreat toward the nearest corner.
Good. At least he is smart enough to be scared.
“So.” I shrug off my jacket and hand it to Killian. “I’m told your name
is William.” I roll up my shirt sleeves and come to a halt in the middle of
the room and put my hands in my pockets. They’re itching to get to work
on the man in front of me, but I have to be patient. I can’t afford to let my
anger take control right now, we’re working against time. Killian and
Hunter follow suit, standing on my left and right, making it obvious to
William that there will be no escaping his fate.
“Please, I just came to buy some White Stuff and to have a good time.
Someone told me that this is the place to ask for Hunter.”
Hunter shakes his head, indicating that this man never came to find him.
William tenses as he realizes that the man named Hunter is actually
standing in this room.
What an idiot.
Realizing his mistake, he starts frantically looking from me to Hunter,
trying to come up with another story. I can see the little cogs running behind
his eyes, trying to grab at a thread, trying to spin another story. Which
means he doesn’t see me coming. My fist connects with his face, and I hear
a satisfying crunch.
God, that feels good.
 I hold him up by his collar, to keep him from falling to the floor and
curling up in a little ball, like the pussy he is.
“William.” He tries to cower away from me, but I hold on to him. “I
usually don’t waste my time on idiots like you.” Blood is running down his
face and is mixing with his tears. “But I take it personally when someone
tries to take me for a fool.”
I hold out my hand toward Killian, and he places one of his knives in
my palm. It’s such a familiar feeling. Cold, hard steel. His eyes widen at the
sight of the knife, and I can see he’s trying to stay strong. He’s supposedly
part of the Mob, after all.
“Tell me.” I move the knife over his face, smearing the blade with his
blood. “Would losing a part of your body make you take me more
seriously?” I press the tip of the knife just below his eye. He grows very
still, scared that any movement would make the cut for me.
“I’m just here for a good time, I swear.” He says, sticking to his story at
least. I have to give him that. He might be pissing himself right now, but
he’s trying not to sell out his Boss.
“You see, I don’t believe you.”
I move the blade towards his wrist, right over his Irish Pride tattoo.
“You obviously belong to Seamus, so why don’t you tell me why he keeps
sending his people after me.” I make a small cut, blood slowly starting to
drip down the tip of my knife, and he starts squirming. Like a mouse trying
to get away. “Tell me where I can find him, William.”
“Please, no. I don’t know Seamus. I never get anywhere near Seamus.” I
guess we caught ourselves one of the lower soldiers. But still, he’s got to
have something worth the effort. I refuse to go home empty handed.
“Who sent you?” I ask, trying not to show how desperate I am for
something, anything, at this moment.
“I don’t know Seamus. I just came here for a good time, that’s all.” His
eyes are squeezed shut, as wet whimpering sounds escape him. But still, he
isn’t giving me anything.
“So you keep saying. I guess you know nothing,” I say softly, letting go just
a little. He starts to relax beneath me, thinking that the worst is over.
He couldn’t be more wrong.
“You won’t need this then.” I tell him, and his eyes widen with fear. He
screams and tries to fight me which makes for a sloppy cut. At least I’m not
the one who has to live with the scar. I take the bloody flap of skin housing
his Irish Pride tattoo and put it in his breast pocket and give it a little tap.
“There you go,” I say with a smile. “Now I’ll believe you don’t know
Seamus.” I wipe my blade on his shirt, get up, and walk toward Hunter.
Handing him the knife, I turn around and look at William.
“Make sure he starts talking, or I’ll have to cut off other parts he has no
use for.”
And with that, Hunter descends on him. I can hear him screaming and
begging, but Hunter doesn’t relent. Smiling, I take my jacket from Killian
and walk toward the door.
“I’ll expect an update within the hour.”

∞∞∞

Upon entering my office, I start undressing. My clothes are spattered

with William’s blood, and I want to get rid of it as soon as possible. He is
such a pathetic excuse for a man. Even his blood disgusts me. I’d gladly
walk around with blood on my clothes and my face if I fought a worthy
opponent. But not William, he doesn’t belong in the Mob. You can tell by
just looking at him, that he’ll betray their secrets. We’re actually doing them
a favour by killing him, if you ask me.
As I unbutton my shirt, I notice that I’m not alone.
In the corner of my office is Salvatore, our Consigliere, with his usual
smug expression on his face. His black coat is slung onto my desk, the one
he uses to hide the fact that his shirt is always wrinkled and covered in the
oiliness that seems to drip from his very being.
“I see you’ve been busy, Neal. Are you out breaking the rules again?”
I ignore his question. “What do you want, Salvatore?”
He doesn’t move from his corner. Instead his eyes follow me as I move
through my office, removing my shirt and throwing it into the bathroom. “I
wanted to come and talk to you about your engagement to Arica Bastone.”
Great. Just fucking great.
“What about it?” I ask, keeping it short, hoping he gets the message that
I’m not in the mood to discuss this. As Underboss I’m technically ranked
above Salvatore in the Family, but I’ve known him ever since I was little, so
I show him a certain amount of respect. And I know my Uncle appreciates
it. The happier my Uncle is, the more likely I am to get what I want.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your meeting with your Uncle, but I
was busy with negotiations with the Bastone family. He decided to call you
in and tell you about the deal before all the details were ironed out.” He
moves toward the bar, helping himself to my Scotch. “So I’m here to fill
you in on the rest.”
“The rest? What do you mean, the rest? I have to marry her. What more
is there?” I’m growing agitated, and I’m sure he can notice my muscles
twitching in my chest. He better stay in his corner. Beating William up
didn’t give me half the release I needed.
“Arica is a great catch, Neal. She is considered the princess of the Five
Families in New York. The fact that you were chosen as her husband should
be seen as a tremendous compliment.”
He moves over to the couch, making himself comfortable by crossing
his legs and spreading his arms out over the backside of the couch. His hand
moves over his hair, slicking it back. “You should be grateful that Romero
and I procured you this deal for a wife.”
I try to contain my agitation, but it’s getting very hard. I fucking hate it
when people tell me what to do. My jaw clenches and my fists ball at the
side of my body. Breathing in and out, I bite out, “Just tell me what you
came here to tell me, Salvatore, so we can get this over and done with.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Arica wants to meet you.”
I spin around to face him, his bushy eyebrows lifting at my response.
“And why is that? To see what she signed up for?”
“She wants to know if you’re compatible. You know, arranged
marriages these days aren’t the same as they used to be. The woman is
given a choice in the matter. Or at least, the illusion of a choice.” He sits
forward on the couch, taking a slow sip of his drink. “So we’re humoring
her.”
“That’s very feminist of you, Salvatore, congratulations.” I can’t help
the sarcasm that drips from my every word. This whole week has been a
complete nightmare, and it’s all because of this fucking engagement. Now
he tells me there’s more, and I’m close to my limit of bullshit for the week.
“Hostility won’t help your cause, boy.” I hate it when he calls me boy. I
am nobody’s fucking boy. I am twenty-seven years old, the Underboss and
future Don of the Castellano Family, not a fucking boy.
 I grab his coat as it’s sprawled out over all my things. Picking it up with
my bloody hands, I toss it to him, hitting him in the face with it. “You’ve
said all you needed to say, Salvatore. You’re free to leave.”
Taken aback by my abrupt dismissal, he tries to get in the last word.
“You have to meet her by the end of the week. The Bastone Family will
contact you with the details.” He gets up, downs his drink, and shoves the
glass into my hands. “It’s also expected of you to give her a proper
proposal.”
He walks to the door and opens it. “In public. Don’t fuck this up, Neal.
It’s imperative that you do your part for the Family.”
And with that, he leaves.
The door closes just in time, because I throw his glass against the
doorframe, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
 Chapter 5
Amelia

After the ordeal at Mavericks, we decide it is better to go home. The

limo is filled with awkward silence and a speck of tension. Olivia is staring
out of the window, watching as the buildings slide by, a clear Mona Lisa
smile on her face. No doubt it’s from the handsome stranger she left behind
in the club. As far as I know, she didn’t give him her name, a number or
anything. They just stared at each other while dancing, totally caught up in
the moment. It’s very strange behaviour for her, but I guess I can’t blame
her. That club does something to you.
Liz, on the other hand, is busy on her phone. Probably texting her new
conquest. She has this thing about not letting go once she decides she wants
something. She is a bit like a dog with a bone in that regard.
“So?” I try to break the silence. “Did everyone enjoy their evening?”
Olivia faces me, the mysterious smile falling from her face. “It sure was
interesting.”
Understatement of the year, but okay.
Smirking a little, I turn toward Liz. “How about you?” I try to get her
attention, but she is glued to her phone.
“Huh? Did you say something?” She comes up for air for a second
before diving straight back in.
“What the hell are you doing? You can’t be texting that guy already?
You left him like five minutes ago.” I sound a bit agitated, and I do not
know where the hell it’s coming from.
“I’m not, he’s busy. I’m doing some internet stalking. I want to see what
I can find out about him before I see him again, but I can’t seem to find
anything. It’s strange.” Her eyes are scrunched up as she focuses on the
screen. “I mean, who doesn’t have social media these days.”
“So, you’re definitely seeing him again?” Olivia asks, probably hoping
that would mean she gets to see her handsome stranger again as well.
“Fuck yes. Only a crazy person would let that piece of ass go without
thoroughly enjoying everything he has to offer.” She smiles deviously while
wiggling her eyebrows.
 “Speaking of which.” Liz switches her gaze toward Olivia. “What the
hell was that tonight? Oh, and what happened to your poor date?”
Olivia turns all kinds of pink. “Yeah, um… he kind of left when he saw
me dancing with that guy.” She looks down, fidgeting with her hands in her
lap. “I feel really bad about it, it was a terrible thing for me to do.” She
glances at us, urging us to contradict her. Both of us stay silent, torturing
her a little before our amusement gets the better of us.
“Olivia, you can’t help that a sexy guy swept you off your feet. Besides,
you and Larry are just friends, I’m sure he’ll understand,” I say, hoping to
ease her conscience.
“Monday, I’ll make it up to him.” She bites her lip, a flush creeps up her
cheeks. “Perhaps I can bake him some muffins or something.”
“Poor Larry, he has to settle for muffins, while the hot guy gets what?
Your muffin?” Liz chuckles and earns herself a small smack on the arm
from Olivia. “I can’t believe you just said that, Liz!”
“Come on! The guy’s name is Larry, for fuck’s sake!” Liz laughs,
scrunching up her nose. With the face she’s pulling, I can’t help but join in.
She really has a knack for saying exactly what pops into her mind.
And I envy her for it.
I wish I had the confidence to say what I think, when I think it. To do
what I want to do. To go after what I want.
But what do I want?
My fingers are entwined with Stefan’s, our hands resting in my lap, and
I can’t help but wonder if he is my future. Sure, holding his hand like this is
nice. It’s safe, familiar, and comfortable. But it’s nothing like the electricity
I felt going through my body earlier this evening.
When that man touched me.
Here I am, holding my boyfriend’s hand, whilst thinking of another
man. And I’m wondering what that says about me as a person. I mean, I
don’t know that guy from Adam.
All I know is that he was big and muscled; it was like walking into a
brick wall. He stood sturdy, towering over me. I had to look up to fully
appreciate his face. His dark hair, the dark stubble covering his strong jaw,
and those green eyes. They were piercing into my soul. I had to look away
because his intense gaze intimidated the shit out of me. Like he was
challenging me in some way. I told him I had a boyfriend, but in all honesty,
I wonder if that was to remind myself as much as it was to get him to
release me.
He couldn’t stop looking at me and he held onto my arms far longer
than was necessary. Although, I didn’t mind. I can still feel his hands on my
arms. Those large, strong hands.
Shit. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I turn my head to peek at Stefan and see him returning a small smile. It
is very apparent that he didn’t enjoy the club. It was his suggestion to leave
as soon as the fight broke up. We didn’t even finish the drinks he waited
almost half an hour for. But I guess it’s for the best. Going to gentlemen’s
clubs like Mavericks isn’t something picture-perfect couples do together.
No, they get married and have babies and live happily ever after. I should
want that.
But...
I felt a pull toward that man, there’s no denying it. I couldn’t help
myself, so I turned back for a last glance and found him looking back at me.
A part of me loves knowing that he wanted another look as well. Now, I’ll
probably never see him again.
Which is obviously for the best.
The limo drops us off in front of our building and the four of us make
our way toward the elevator. As our floor approaches, Stefan inches closer
to me. I guess he’s starting to loosen up now that we’re on our way to being
alone together. Upon entering the apartment, Olivia politely excuses herself
to her room, where I’m sure she is going to fall into a bout of self-loathing
about her behaviour towards Larry.
“I’m off to bed, lovebirds, enjoy your evening alone. Oh, and Ames?”
She turns before she enters her room. “Please don’t bang his brains out. You
can’t go dumbing down our future engineers.” Laughing, she shuts the door
to her room, leaving the two of us alone.
Stefan’s mouth falls open and he clearly doesn’t know what to say to
that. He isn’t used to Liz, her larger-than-life personality or her lack of
filter. So, I take his hand and lead him toward my room, as I try to reassure
him.
“Don’t worry about her, she’s just joking around. Besides, I’ve had to
listen to her moaning and screaming through our shared wall on more than
one occasion.” I’m not sure if this makes him feel better about the situation
at all, because he frowns at me as the words leave my mouth.
 As we enter my room, I am so aware that this is the first time we’ve
been alone together in an awfully long time. It’s always weird at first, like
our phone relationship and our physical relationship need some time to sync
with each other.
“Alone at last.” Stefan drops his stuff in the corner of my room and walks
over to me. “Come here, let me greet you properly.” He takes my face in his
hands and kisses me. His lips feel a little unfamiliar after months apart, but
I’ve wanted to kiss him since the beginning of the night, and having his
body close to mine feels nice.
“I have missed you,” I confess to him, my head resting against his chest.
“A lot. I hate being apart like this.”
“I know you do.” He sighs deeply. “But we decided that it would be
better if we each did what we have always wanted to do. Neither of us
wanted the other to give up their dream.”
“Well, this is my final year.” I step back a bit, gazing up into his eyes,
wondering if I should continue and ask the dreaded question.
But I’m scared. Once it’s out there, I can never take it back. We would
have to deal with it; we would have to find an answer. Before I back down
and lose my nerve, I close my eyes and ask him.
“What are we going to do next year, Stefan?”
He sighs as he releases me and sits down on my bed. “Next year, as I’m
sure you heard, I’ll be assisting my professor in his research project. It’s a
once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“Yes, I know.” Moving toward my dresser, I start taking off my
jewellery and shoes. It feels amazing to have my feet bare again. I didn’t
even notice how sore they were with all the excitement of the evening.
“What does that mean for us, though?”
It’s obvious how much he’s struggling with this. His work and studies
have always been particularly important to him. Stefan is a firm believer in
getting his ducks in a row. He wants to get his degree and get the perfect job
before he commits himself to marriage. He doesn’t want to start a family
life if he can’t support a wife and children. This is understandable, but it
makes me feel like I’m not important enough for him to build a life around
his love for me.
“To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t want you to give up any
opportunities you might have regarding your studies and possible career, to
move to Massachusetts for me.”
 I know this, but hearing him say this out loud is like a punch to the gut.
Because what I heard was ‘I don’t want you to move to Massachusetts for
me’.
“I understand your reasoning, Stefan.” And I do. I truly do.
But shouldn’t love be devoid of reason?
“So, here’s my proposition.” He gets up and walks toward me. Turning
me, he moves my hair aside and starts unzipping my dress. “Let’s give it
some time. A lot can happen in a year. Who knows? Maybe my research
project falls through or maybe you’ll get an offer for an internship here in
the city.” His fingers run along my spine as he parts my dress. Feeling his
hands on my body makes me want more, so I turn around and kiss him
again.
He deepens our kiss as I open to him, allowing him in after so long
apart. His hands are exploring my naked back as he pulls me closer to him.
My fingers move up and over his shoulders, to the nape of his neck, into his
curly hair.
It feels amazing to have him with me again.
And tomorrow he leaves again.
I break our kiss and step back, attempting to catch my breath and gather
my thoughts. If we go any further right now, we’re not going to be having a
conversation about next year, we’re going to end up naked and in no way
better off than we are at the moment.
“Stefan, I can’t wait around another year to see what happens. I need
some clarity on this. I feel like I’m drifting around, waiting for you to
decide when you’re ready for me, and I can’t do it anymore.”
The hurt is clear on his face. He wasn’t expecting this. But I have to
know.
“Ames, I don’t understand.” He frowns, the confusion clear in his eyes.
“What changed? This was always the plan? We’d do long distance until
we’re sure where we’re going to be, and then we can be together.”
I just blindsided him. And now that I’ve started this, there’s no going
back, only forward. Shit, am I ready for this?
“That was the plan, yes.” Tears spring to my eyes. “But I can’t do that
anymore.” I try to swallow them, but I feel one escaping down my cheek. “I
need more than that.”
He huffs, raking his fingers through his hair. “You’re killing me over
here. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. We had a plan.”
 “Plans change, Stefan. At this moment, I need to know I am your top
priority. I want to actually be in a relationship. Not have someone who I
only get to see two, maybe three, times a year. I need more than that.” Tears
are flowing freely now, there’s no use in trying to contain them.
“But I’m not in a position to give you more than that at the moment.”
He sits back down on the bed. “And I can’t tell you when everything will
settle down.”
I cradle his face in my hands, guiding him to meet my gaze. “Stefan, I
love you.” His eyes soften at my statement. “But I need more. I need all or
nothing.”
I don’t actually know how I got here. This isn’t what I had in mind. Not
at all. Or at least, I don’t think so. Mostly, I wanted to know what to expect
next year, but hearing him say how we have to wait and see...
I just can’t.
He opens his mouth, and I’m expecting a big declaration of love, or
some kind of speech on how we can make this work.
But instead, he says, “If this is what you want, Amelia.”
He removes my hands from his face and gets up. “I’ll get my stuff and
go.”
“Wait, Stefan, I-”
“You what, Amelia?” He sounds dejected. And it breaks my heart
knowing that I made him feel this way.
“I don’t want you to leave this way.” It’s probably way too late for that
right now. But even though I can’t wait around for him, it doesn't mean I
don’t care about him.
With downcast eyes, he shakes his head. “Well, I sure as hell am not
going to stay like this.” Stefan picks up his bags and heads toward the door.
“Good luck with your final year, Amelia.”
And then he’s gone.

∞∞∞

The next morning, I wake up alone.

It’s definitely not the way I thought I would start my morning and yet, I
feel a tiny speck of relief. Fresh tears already fill my eyes, as if I didn’t cry
enough last night. What kind of person is relieved after they break up with
someone, someone they thought they’d spend the rest of their life with.
Just get up, Amelia.
I throw off the covers and get up to wash my face. I won’t go out there
with tears in my eyes. I grab my phone to check if there's any messages
from him, but there are none. I don’t know why I expected anything
different.
When I open my door, Olivia is standing in the doorway with a
steaming cup of coffee.
“Are you okay?” she asks, handing me the cup and putting her arm
around me, walking me to the kitchen counter. “We heard Stefan leave last
night, but we didn’t want to bother you.”
“I told her you’d rather have a glass of wine, but Olivia insisted on
coffee,” Liz adds from across the counter, always attempting to lighten the
mood. “How are you feeling, babe?” Her big brown eyes are filled with real
concern, and it’s great to know that I don’t have to face this alone.
“I’ll be fine.” I continue sipping my coffee. Their faces are full of
expectation as they wait for me to give some sort of explanation about what
happened. “I can’t believe it’s over. I didn’t think it would ever be over.”
Olivia starts fidgeting in her chair. “Amelia, do you think you broke up
with him because of how things worked out with your parents?”
I don’t respond immediately, not wanting to think about it. But Olivia
isn’t done. “I don’t want to add to your heartbreak, I’m just wondering if
you think you might just be scared of committing to someone and maybe
not have it work out.”
“Wow.” Swallowing slowly, I swirl the coffee in my cup, not meeting
her gaze. “You just went straight for it, didn’t you?” I know she’s only
looking out for me, but I didn’t expect the ugly truth from her.
“I don’t know, Olivia. My parents’ situation was...” I pinch the bridge of
my nose, sighing. “Just fucked up.” Looking down, I place my cup on the
counter. “I can’t even begin to psycho-analyse the effects of all that crap on
my life.”
It most certainly does play a role. I’d be stupid to think that what
happened to my dad wouldn’t affect me. “I just wanted to figure out what
we were going to do next year. But when he said we’d have to wait and see,
again, I just broke.”
 “Babe, he can’t expect you to wait forever. That’s just not how it works
in a relationship,” Liz says with a serious expression on her face. Which
earns open-mouthed stares from both Olivia and me. She puts her hands up
in defence. “Okay, so I don’t know much about relationships, but I do know
that.”
“Honestly, I feel a tiny bit of relief.” My eyes dart to Olivia, knowing
that she really likes Stefan and probably wanted us to end up together.
“Ames, if you feel relief, then it wasn’t meant to be,” she says. “If you
meet the person you’re supposed to be with, you’re never going to want to
let go.” She has a thoughtful expression on her face, which makes me
wonder if she is speaking from experience.
“I’ve never been able to understand why you had to live your lives
apart. If you want to be with someone, you make it happen. You don’t wait
around for it,” Liz says, picking up her cell phone.
“Yeah, I know. I really wanted us to go through this together, to build a
home, our careers, our lives, together. But I don’t think he gets it.” I hope
they understand where I’m coming from.
Liz is still busy on her phone. “What are you doing?” I ask her, trying to
see what she’s up to. The last thing I need is for her to be sending Stefan a
hate-text of some sort.
“I’m texting Killian to see if he knows about a club we can go to
tonight. We’re all single girls, we live in New York, and we’re sexy as
fuck.” A smile forms on her face. “So we’re going out.”
“Wait… Killian?” Olivia asks, frowning.
“Yeah, the guy from last night. We exchanged numbers before we left.”
Liz has a very naughty expression on her face, probably imagining
continuing what the two of them started last night.
Olivia seems incredibly nervous. “Who says Amelia wants to even go
out so soon after the break-up?” She is looking at me, hoping I’ll agree with
her.
“You know what?” I say, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“Let’s go. We never do anything like this with you, Liz. Tonight, we’ll join
you.”
“I don’t know...” Olivia looks very uncertain about this plan. Usually,
we stay home together while Liz goes out alone. I have… had a boyfriend
and Olivia just isn’t into the club scene. Well, that’s what I thought, but
after last night, I’m not so sure anymore.
 “Oh, come on!” Liz nearly screams, already excited about the idea of
the three of us going out together. “When shit like this happens, we stick
together. Solidarity!” she says, raising her coffee cup toward us.
That has me laughing, although it comes out as more of a croak thanks
to the emotions clogging my throat “Well, I’m in.” I say, raising my cup to
meet hers. Both of us are looking at Olivia, who still looks like she might
throw up.
She sighs, finally giving in and raising her cup of tea to meet our coffee
cups. “Fine, we can go.”
Liz cheers loudly, almost drowning out Olivia as she adds, “as long as
there are no Tequila shots, I’m in.”
 Chapter 6
Neal

As I look out the window of my penthouse, I can see the trees in

Central Park are getting ready to exchange their greenery for the lively red
and orange colours I’ve come to love. Fall is my favourite season. It has
been ever since I can remember. Killian and I used to go out and play in the
leaves when we were kids, while the men of the Family were busy with
their meetings. We would make mountains out of them and then see who
could jump over them. It always resulted in us being scolded for ruining our
clothes, but we didn’t care. We didn’t have a care in the world back then.
My private elevator pings, pulling my attention away from the view.
The doors open and I can already see Killian’s leather jacket. He never goes
anywhere without it. His beard looks a bit scruffy, like he hasn’t shaved for
two days, and he’s already smoking a cigarette. He throws a smile in my
direction, obviously already in a good mood.
“Top ‘o’ the mornin’ to you, brother.” Killian’s voice resonates through
the penthouse. That ridiculous phrase makes me run my hands over my
face. I haven’t had nearly enough coffee to deal with his chipper attitude
right now.
He holds up his hands in mock arrest, reading my grizzly mood with a
look. “I come in peace. I’m not the one you should be aiming at right now.”
He’s right. Salvatore is at the top of my hit list at the moment, closely
followed by my Uncle, and Seamus of course. And don’t forget that douche
of a boyfriend of the woman who occupied my thoughts all night.
“So many people to kill, Killian, so little time,” I say, with amusement
spreading across my face. Killian might be a pain in the ass most of the
time, but he balances out the seriousness in my life. I wish I could be as
carefree as he is, just once. But I don’t think I have it in me to let go
anymore, I need the control. If I hold the reins, I always know what’s
coming and I can always be prepared.
“Speaking of killing,” he says nonchalantly. “I have an update on our
Irish friends.”
 “Is that why you came in here with that ridiculous greeting this
morning?” I walk over to the kitchen counter.
The living area and the kitchen form one large open space surrounded
by massive windows, giving you a clear view of Central Park and Park
Avenue. I always feel like the King of New York from up here.
“I expected to hear from you last night.” I pour us each a cup of coffee.
“Yeah, I know. But our little friend turned out to be tougher than he
looked.”
I don’t really care what it took for them to get the information I need. I
just want the damn answers.
“So are you going to tell me, or do I need to take you out to dinner
first.” I didn’t think William would last more than an hour with Killian and
Hunter, but if he did, he obviously had some important information on
hand.
“You know how I like a nice piece of steak, Neal.” Killian bats his
eyelashes at me, leaning over the counter toward me. “I could even use
some champagne, and a little action underneath the table.”
“Go fuck yourself, de Luca.” I shove him away as he chuckles at his
own joke. Sliding the cup of coffee towards him, I let some of it spill as it
comes to a stop in front of him.
“Oh, believe me, I did.” He takes the cup. “That broad from last night
left me all hard-up and seriously deprived of satisfaction.” Killian moves
his free hand up and down, gesturing to the kind of activity that kept him up
last night.
“I’m proud of you. I know you to be the kind of man to hunt a woman
down to finish what you started.” A part of me wishes he did. That way I
could use the information he got to find the woman I want.
Fuck, she is screwing with my head. I need to focus.
“Actually, I think I deserve some kind of prize.” He has this expression
on his face, like he can already imagine what his trophy would look like.
“I’m going to let this one come to me. I know she’ll come knocking soon
enough.”
He looks very sure of himself. He just doesn’t know that it means good
news for me, too. Killian starts rummaging in the fridge, looking for
something to eat. “Don’t you have any food in the house? I can’t plan world
destruction on an empty stomach.”
 “Then leave the planning to me, just tell me what you got.” He closes
the fridge when he sees there’s only water in it. I have a housekeeper who
comes in and does all the necessary things, but food in the fridge hasn’t
been necessary for a long time. I never eat here.
“Turns out Seamus is still in charge. His son is the Underboss.” I didn’t
know he had a son. It must’ve happened after my parents died. A strange
feeling stirs in me, thinking about the fact that I didn’t just lose my parents
that night, but a whole family.
“Where can I find him?” I need a place to start, anything.
“Apparently, William always meets up with the Underboss. No one
deals with Seamus directly. If he has any information, he contacts him, and
they set up a time and place. Usually, at one of their clubs where they get to
enjoy the perks.”
“Now we have a way in. I can work with that.” I run a hand through my
hair. “Let’s set up a meeting then.” I take out my phone and text Hunter that
he should meet us at the penthouse as soon as possible. “Please tell me you
left him alive enough so we can actually have him contact them.”
“Sure, he’s got enough fingers left to send a text.” Killian chuckles as he
finishes his coffee and lights a cigarette, offering me one as well.
I take it and light it, inhaling deeply. “Great, now we just need to figure
out how to go about getting to the Underboss without shooting up their
club.”
“My thoughts, exactly.” His phone lights up with a text message.
“Is that Hunter? I asked him to meet us here,” I say, checking my phone
to see if I missed a text.
“No, it’s the woman from last night,” he says with a cocky smile on his
face. “I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay away too long.” Killian won’t let
her go until he fucks her six ways from Sunday.
“We don’t have time for this right now, aren’t your balls empty enough
after last night?”
“That, brother, is exactly the reason why you’re as tense as you are. You
need to get laid.”
Immediately my thoughts go to the stormy eyed woman, and the way
her body felt so close to mine. Sure, I could just call one of the usuals, but I
don’t think they’re going to cut it. She woke something in me that I’m not
certain I’m totally comfortable with. She had a certain pull to her. I can
probably find her in a heartbeat. All it would take is some security footage
and a hacking job done by Travis. I’d have her by the end of the hour.
No, now is not the time.
“Did you hear me?” Killian is waving his hand in front of my eyes to
get my attention. “Where did you go just now?”
“I’m right fucking here, idiot,” I say, irritated that he caught me
distracted.
He quirks his eyebrow, peering at me through narrow eyes. He knows
I’m full of shit right now. “When are you seeing Arica? Why don’t you just
do her?”
“Are you fucking insane? If I fuck her, our whole plan goes up in
smoke. I need to stay away from her, which is going to be extremely hard
since I’m obligated to formally meet her sometime soon.” I get up and start
toward my bar. How can he even suggest I go there, I’m not sticking my
head in that particular hornets nest.
“You know it’s not even nine o’clock, right?” Killian’s sarcasm isn’t
appreciated. As if he never drinks in the morning. I flip him off and pour
myself a Scotch.
Just then, Hunter walks into the penthouse. Both of them have the
access codes to my penthouse, my Uncle as well, any other visitors need to
be approved by me. Right now, I’m regretting giving Killian access. Too
much Killian this early in the morning can get on my nerves.
“I see Killian has already got you drinking.” He comes over and pours
himself a drink as well. “I might as well catch up, just to numb the idiot
remarks.” He downs the first one and pours another. “I presume he’s told
you about last night.”
“He has, yes. We just have to find a way to get in that club without
some kind of shoot-out. We can’t afford to have the Fed's eyes on us.”
Hopefully, they won’t risk the attention, but you can never be too sure.
“Maybe we can send you in. They don’t know you.”
Hunter takes out his phone and starts texting. “Sure thing. I’ll arrange
the meeting today. Then we can start planning our course of action.”
Killian claps his hands together, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at the
both of us. “Now that business is sorted, we can discuss our clubbing plans
for the evening.”
Both Hunter and I stare at him, incredulous at his suggestion.
“What clubbing plans?” Hunter asks.
 “Oh, come on, the last couple of days have been filled with drama,
engagements, blood and torture.” He sighs in a mocking way. “No sex for
any of us.”
“So, this is about your dick again?”
“It’s about all our dicks,” Killian says, gesturing to all of us.
I start laughing. “Do you hear yourself when you say shit like that?”
“I do, yes,” he retorts, holding his chin up. “And I sound awesome.” He
rubs his hands together, smirking at us. “So, get ready, because tonight
we’re going to Zenith. I’ve got a hot date lined up, and she’s bringing
friends.”
That immediately gets my and Hunter’s attention. He’s no doubt
thinking about that blond he was rubbing up against last night. I guess I
can’t judge, because there are already images swirling around in my head of
a certain dark-haired woman with a storm in her eyes, naked in my bed.
Once I’ve made her mine, I will be able to focus again.
A sly smile is spreading on my face. “Well, we can’t disappoint then,
can we?”

∞∞∞

Zenith is one of the other clubs we own in the city. It’s less risqué than
Mavericks but still has an allure of its own. We arrive early because Travis
called me with some security issues. Since this morning, our cameras seem
to be offline for some reason and he is busy trying to figure out the problem
when I get to the control room.
“What’s up with the surveillance, Travis? Are you any closer to figuring
out the problem?” I ask him. “We have to clear this shit up before most of
the people arrive.”
“I’ve almost got it, Boss. Seems like there’s an interruption in our
servers, so I’m trying to restore the connections,” he says without looking
away from the screens. His dark hair is ruffled from running his hands
through it in frustration. He’s the best at his job, so I know he’ll fix it.
Hopefully, before anything serious happens.
“Right. Hunter and Killian are here with me. I’ll arrange an extra
security team to come assist while you sort this out.” I pat him on the back,
hoping to reassure him. “You better get this done quick, Travis.”
“Will do, Boss.” He continues hammering away on the keyboards, too
busy to look up. “I’ll keep you updated.” I send Hunter a text about an extra
team as I leave.
Returning to the dancefloor I see it’s already starting to fill up, it’s a
really popular place at the moment. Not that I’m complaining. A full club
equals good business.
All the lights are placed at specific angles against the walls to keep the
roof of the club pitch black. The ceilings are extremely high and when you
look up, it feels like you might be swallowed by an abyss. There’s only one
bar on the ground floor, a circular bar in the middle of the club, with the
dance floor surrounding it on all sides. Against the left side of the club
there’s a little balcony of sorts, big enough for about fifty people, our VIP
area with its own bar available.
As I make my way across the almost crowded dance floor, I see Killian
and Hunter waiting for me at the stairs leading to the VIP section. When
I’m within earshot, I ask Hunter, “Is everything sorted with the security?”
He moves to the side so the three of us can start heading up. “Yeah,
they’ll be in position within ten minutes.”
I nod at him as we move toward my regular booth. The waitress spots us
and brings over a round of Scotch while we all take our seats. This booth
gives us a nice view of the whole club, so we won’t miss a single thing.
“I told Liz to meet us up here and gave her information to Dorian out
front.” He is sprawled out in the booth, one hand draped over the back
while the other is holding his cigarette. “He’ll bring them up when they
arrive.”
“Is she bringing the blond?” Hunter asks, slouched forward, arms
resting on the table with his drink gripped between his hands.
Killian chuckles. “I didn’t ask her about anyone’s hair colour, Hunt, so I
honestly can’t tell you.”
Hunter leans back and rubs his hands on his pants, obviously nervous.
It’s very unlike him.
“What is it these women think we do for a living?” I ask Killian.
Usually, he picks the most outrageous careers when we go out, since we
never tell them we’re part of one of the biggest Mafia Crime Families in
New York.
 “Oh God, please tell me you didn’t tell them I’m a world leading
gynecologist again?” Hunter asks. “That one girl kept asking me if I would
consider taking on her mother as a client.” He rubs his eyes with his fingers.
“It was a fucking nightmare.”
That made us erupt in laughter, tears streaming from Killian's face, as he
slaps the table. “God, Hunt, why didn’t you just go for it? You could’ve had
them both by the end of the weekend.”
Hunter reaches over and punches him in the shoulder. “You fucknut, I’m
not into MILF’s. I’ve never worked so hard to get out of something in my
life.”
Still chuckling at Hunter’s expense, I ask Killian, “Seriously, what did
you tell her?”
He relaxes back, taking a sip of his drink. “Actually, I didn’t tell her
anything.” The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “We haven’t exactly been
talking about stuff like that. Our conversations were more,” he licks his lips,
his eyes gleaming, “carnal in nature.”
My phone vibrates with a text message from Travis.
Hit a bump in the road, it might still be an hour or so.
Great, it better not be something serious. I don’t want to focus on
business tonight. My mind is in one place, and one place only. Doing a
quick scan of the dance floor below, which filled up to maximum capacity
in a very short time, my eyes go back to the entrance. And it seems just in
time because there she is.
She’s wearing a short blue dress, her dark hair falling down her
shoulders in waves. She is playing with her little purse, looking around,
clearly a little nervous about what she’s seeing. But if I’d have to guess, she
was feeling the excitement in the atmosphere as she scanned the dance
floor.
I’m up here.
Like she hears me, her eyes find the VIP section and land straight on
me.
The corner of her mouth lifts a little before she turns toward her friends.
Dorian leads them through the crowd toward us. Next to me, Hunter is
fidgeting like he’s got ants in his pants, and Killian’s face is growing more
complacent by the second.
“Boss, your guests have arrived,” Dorian says by way of greeting. I nod
to him in acknowledgement and he leaves to return to his post. As he steps
away, we are faced with our dates for the evening.
“Where’s...” Hunter asks and trails off as his head flips toward the
dance floor, searching. It looks like he’s found who he’s looking for because
he darts away from the table, down the steps toward a blonde retreating
toward the exit.
That leaves the four of us, and I’m painfully aware of this beautiful
woman in front of me. My eyes move over her body, from her high heels,
along her perfectly sculpted legs, up to where her dress tightly hugs her
breasts and finally landing on those stormy eyes of hers. She holds my gaze
for a second before looking down.
“So? You own this place?” Liz asks me from Killian’s lap. The two of
them obviously need no introduction or time to get reacquainted.
“Yes, I do,” I answer without breaking eye contact with the woman in
front of me. “Obviously our friends forgot their manners.”
I get up and extend my hand toward her. She pauses before gently
placing her own in mine. Her soft touch sends an electrical current through
my body, causing every nerve ending to come alive. Leaving me almost
breathless when I tell her, “I’m Neal.”
Everything in me wants to take her to my place right now, but I know
that would not be right. I might scare her off, and that’s not something I
want to do. So, I lead her toward the booth, indicating for her to sit first.
Which meant I’d be blocking the entrance, effectively caging her in.
“Please have a seat.”
I wave the waitress over. “Can I get you anything to drink?” It’s hard
not to move closer to her when I can feel a physical pull toward her, so
instead I grip onto the back of her seat, following her with my eyes as she
puts her purse on the table, still sitting on the edge of her seat.
“I’ll have some red wine please, Merlot.”
I give her order to the waitress without moving my gaze from the
woman in front of me.
“I don’t know a lot of women who drink Merlot at a club.” I move my
other hand toward the table’s edge, gripping onto it. I’m careful not to move
too close because she looks like she’s about to bolt like her friend.
“Amelia,” she breathes. “My name is Amelia.” She turns toward me,
granting me the picture of her features in its entirety. Her long lashes flit
over her blue-green eyes as she nervously scans my face, looking for
something, what I do not know. But she obviously finds it, because she
sinks back into her seat a little. Seemingly more at ease, lightly biting her
lower lip, I can’t help but stare at it. Wishing it was me.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Amelia.”
Her glass of wine arrives, and she picks it up, holding it out to me. I
pick up my own drink and clink it against hers. “The pleasure is all mine,
Neal.”
Hearing her say my name like that, like a soft caress, makes me want to
take her right here, right now. How easy it would be to lift her up and put
her on the table in front of me, lifting her dress and devouring her for all to
see. I think the dirty thoughts I’m having are clearly visible on my face,
because her breath catches a little as she looks down and starts tugging at
the hem of her dress. In the opposite direction of where I want it to go.
However, I like seeing her react to my mere gaze. Just imagine how she
would respond to my touch.
Why haven’t I seen you before?
“You’ve never been here before,” I answer my own question.
Her head tilts a little. “No, I haven’t. I don’t really go to clubs.” A small
flush runs up her throat, and it takes everything in me not to run my fingers
along it. “I’ve had a lot to focus on these last couple of years.”
I down my drink, looking away so that she can’t see the expression on
my face. Because I’m thinking about taking her to my bed, knowing she’s
taken. I’ve never cared before, however for some reason it irks me to know
that she belongs to someone else. “Ah, the boyfriend.”
“Yes, that and my studies.” She swirls the wine in her glass, as she
stares into it. “But that’s over now.”
I whip my head back towards her. “The studies?”
“The boyfriend.” She takes a big sip of wine and completely relaxes
back into the seat. Her shoulder brushes against my arm. That little piece of
skin is sending fire down my spine and it makes me crave for more of her.
A wolfish grin spreads on my face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
She looks at me, trying her best not to laugh at my expression. “Oh?
You’re sorry, are you? I can see how devastated you are. It’s written all over
that cocky face of yours.”
She’s got me there.
This woman is having the strangest effect on me. I usually never mix
business with pleasure. If I feel like I need the company of a woman, I use
one of our hotel’s rooms. I never take them out, never spend any time with
them other than in the bedroom. Being who I am, it’s always a risk to be
seen with a woman. I have a lot of enemies and if they think they can use
someone to try to get to me, they’ll jump at the opportunity.
But right now, I can’t help myself. From the moment I first laid eyes on
her, I didn’t have any control over the situation. It’s a bit disconcerting
because looking into her eyes feels a little like coming home.
I look at her for a second longer, hoping the feeling will go away, but it
doesn’t. I inch a little closer to her, my arms still at the back of her seat and
on the table in front of her, literally anchoring myself to not just take her.
She needs to want this too, she needs to show me she wants this too. I
slowly bend my face towards hers.
She doesn’t back away, which is the best thing that could’ve happened
to me all night.
I bring my mouth to her ear, brushing against her skin with my lips.
“Dance with me.”
She doesn’t answer me immediately, and I can sense her debating
whether or not she should follow me over the edge of insanity. Because this
is what this is, pure insanity.
Amelia slowly reaches out toward my hand resting on the table. “Let’s
go.”
 Chapter 7
Amelia

The club, the people dancing, the music, the lights… All of it falls
away as Neal lowers his head toward mine. For a second, I thought he was
going to kiss me, but the warmth of his breath as his mouth brushes against
my ear is somehow worse. I’m hyper aware of the fact he is not touching
me at all, that every inch of his muscular body is within reach, and I want
nothing more than to sink into him. It’s like he is surrounding me, like he is
already a part of me, like I need to get back to where I belong.
“Dance with me,” he whispers against my skin, and his deep and
gravelly voice ignites a fire within me. His hand is resting on the table in
front of me, and all I can think about is how it will feel if he moves it over
and starts touching me.
I slowly reach out to him, not trusting myself to not take more than he’s
offering. His skin is rough to the touch, like he works with his hands a lot.
And it takes every ounce of self-control to not move his hand to my thigh,
so I can feel his hands on my body.
So instead, I place my hand in his grip and answer, “Let’s go.”
He gets out of the booth and leans down again, his breath tickling the
shell of my ear, the manly smell of him surrounding me. “Do you want to
go down there or stay up here?”
I peer over the balcony at the sea of bodies writhing to the rhythm of the
music, and point toward the downstairs dance floor, not trusting my voice.
A roguish grin spreads on his handsome face, and I can feel that same fire
moving from my stomach in a downward direction.
Neal leads me toward the stairs, and I take a quick glance back toward
Liz. She is totally wrapped up in Killian, straddling him while his hands are
underneath her dress. They are too engrossed in each other to care who sees
them.
Well, if you can’t beat them...
As I follow Neal down the stairs, I can’t help but notice the large build
of his body through his grey slacks and white dress shirt. His sleeves are
rolled up and I can see the muscles in his arms clench as he grips my hand,
making sure he doesn’t lose me in the crowd. Up close like this, it looks
like he’s got a big tattoo over his back and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll get
to see it.
He turns around to make sure I’m okay and we come to a stop between
what feels like a thousand people. The dance floor is so full you can’t even
see the floor, so we have no choice but to get closer to each other. Peering
up at him, it’s clear that he’s enjoying the proximity as a grin plays along
his mouth. He takes my hands and places them behind his neck, effectively
pulling me against his hard body. Neal runs his hands down toward my
hips, pressing me against him without any hesitation.
The dress Liz made me wear tonight, left my back bare, with tiny
strings holding everything together at my lower back. Every inch of my
body is aware of his touch as his hands make their way to the bare skin of
my back. The warmth from his hands runs through me, and the mere
thought of him tugging on that string, making my entire dress come apart,
sets my entire body alight.
We move to the rhythm of the music, getting lost in the feel of our
bodies moving together. My fingers brush the nape of his neck, playing
with his dark hair as far as I can reach. Our gaze locked on each other, we
move together, slowly and deliberately.
Neal turns me in his grip, my back is pressing against his chest. The feel
of his hands moving over my stomach, inching upward, brushing the
underside of my breasts, leaves me completely breathless. Having his hands
exploring my body causes fire to pool low in my gut, my thighs clenching,
trying to numb the ache.
It might be this inexplicable magnetic pull towards him that’s causing
me to be this affected by him. Or it might be the fact that in the last three
years, I’ve seen my boyfriend a handful of times, and had sex just as many
times. My body might just be reacting to the attention it hasn’t gotten in so
long.
As I press my ass against his crotch, I notice that I’m not the only one
affected by our dancing. His hard length is pressing against me as we
continue to move together.
He groans into my hair and moves his hands lower, grazing my thighs
and slowly inching up higher, lifting the hem of my dress as he continues
his journey upward. At this point I’m on the verge of surrendering to him,
as I close my eyes and melt back against Neal’s chest, not caring who sees
what, hoping he never stops.
He slowly guides us toward the end of the dance floor as he spins me
around once again. With my back pressed against a wall, I’m caged in by
his body. The heat is radiating off him. The need to feel his body overruns
any logical thought as my hands move down his sculpted chest, over his
hard stomach, down to his crotch. With my gaze never leaving his, I brush
his hard length with the tips of my fingers, teasing him slightly through his
pants. He reaches down, gripping both my hands before pressing them
above my head. He leans down, his warm breath on my neck, as he licks his
way up to my ear causing goosebumps to form all over my body.
“What are you doing to me, Amelia?”
Having him in control like this is causing me to let go of all reason. This
is not something I do. In fact, I have never ever done anything like this. But
he has an effect on me, on my body, that I’ve never experienced before.
And if I had my way, I’d have him take me right here, right now. I bite my
lip before I can let the words slip, telling him to do just that.
With one hand still gripping my hands above my head, he moves the
other toward my face, gently tugging at my bottom lip. “Stop doing that, it’s
making it very hard for me to think straight.”
Hearing him say that he is losing control too, makes me move against
him and he lets out another groan. Releasing my hands, he takes me by the
hips and lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I feel weightless as
he holds me up effortlessly. He presses against my core, I can’t help but let
out a tiny moan.
“Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” he whispers, looking down at the
position of our bodies. His mouth is slightly open, both of us practically
panting. “I want you, Amelia,” he says without hesitation.
His voice is rough, and it sends shivers down my spine. I’m reeling at
the thought of this man taking me here in the club, my mind is in a haze and
I can’t seem to focus on anything other than his hands on my body, his
breath against my skin, and his erection pressing against me.
Shit, I’m in trouble. I don’t even know his last name.
Does it matter?
Taking a deep breath, I try to focus. Try to regain any sense of logic.
“Neal,” my voice comes out breathy with arousal. “I think we should
take a minute.” I could kick myself for saying it. But I can’t follow my
instincts over the edge.
He releases a breath, leans down, and rests his forehead against mine,
closing his eyes. “Anything you need.”
Neal releases me, slowly and a bit reluctantly, letting me slide down his
body until my feet hit the floor. He helps me straighten my dress before
adjusting himself in his pants. He stays quiet, staring into my eyes for a
second, before nodding and taking my hand, leading me back toward our
booth.
When we get upstairs, we’re shocked to find Liz and Killian sitting next
to each other. Killian’s eyes are narrowed as he frowns down at his phone,
while Liz sits with her arms folded, her heel bobbing up and down in
frustration.
“What happened, Killian?” Neal asks, immediately striding over to him,
leaving my side with ease, as if the last few minutes didn’t happen.
“I was just about to come and find you.” Killian looks up. “Travis sent a
text. There’s a problem.”
Neal’s jaw visibly clenches as he nods his head toward the bar. “I’ll
meet you up there, give me a minute.” Killian gets up and heads over to the
bar, but not without giving Liz a kiss, her frustration visibly melting at his
attention.
“I’ve got a situation to handle, Amelia.” He turns to me and gently
touches my cheek, “I won’t be long.” He leans down and lightly places a
kiss in the corner of my mouth before he leaves to meet Killian. The two of
them start a clearly intense conversation.
I wonder what that is about?
Liz comes over to where I’m still standing, staring at Neal. “So Mr.
Hot-As-Fuck-Club-Owner has gotten your panties all wet, huh?” I whip
around to meet her gaze, feeling a blush creeping up my face, because she
is far from wrong.
I can’t lie to her. Well, I can try, but I’m sure she’ll see straight through
my attempt to cover up the fact that I was on the verge of asking a complete
stranger to take me to his bed. Struggling to find my voice, I ask, “Ugly
truth?”
“Give it to me, Babe.”
I let out a breath. “I honestly don’t know what’s happening. He has an
effect on me that I’ve never experienced before in my life.” I have never
lost control of my inhibitions like that before, not even when I was drunk
off my face in my first year.
“Not even with Stefan?” she asks, and I wince a little at the sound of his
name.
“Not in the entire three years we were together,” I answer truthfully.
“Shit,” she says, looking over her shoulder at the bar where Killian and
Neal are still busy. “Let’s take a bathroom break and freshen up. I’m sure
my lipstick is all over my face right now.”
“Your lipstick is all over his face.” Chuckling, we make our way
downstairs, toward the entrance of the VIP restrooms, just beneath the
platform.
“Have you heard anything from Olivia?” I ask. “She said she’d text
when she arrives home safely.”
Liz enters the stall while I check my make-up in the mirror. There isn’t
too much damage, my hair and my dress are a little disheveled. I quickly fix
it, hearing her answer through the door. “Not a word. I think maybe Hunter
caught up with her. We can text her now, just to make sure.”
I was just about to reach for my phone when I realize it’s in my purse. “I
left my phone upstairs. Do you have yours?”
She exits and presses her phone in my hand, heading over to the mirror
to reapply her lipstick.
I text Olivia, hoping she’s okay.
Did you get home alright?
Luckily, she texts back immediately.
I’m with Hunter, we’re at the cocktail lounge across the street. I’ll catch
up with you as you leave.
“Everything okay?” Liz asks, smacking her lips together and
straightening her hair.
“Yeah, she’s with Hunter across the street.”
“I knew she wouldn’t be able to escape that man.” She chuckles. “At
least all three of us are set up for the night. I can see some screaming
orgasms in our future.” She packs away her make-up bag, before taking one
last look in the mirror. “So, before we head back.” She turns around, facing
me. “Tell me what your plan is. Are you going to put good girl Amelia
away for the night and have some fun?”
“I just might.” God knows it might not be up to me if I spend any more
time alone with him. “I just want to spend a few minutes actually talking to
him, you know, before I jump his bones.”
She laughs at me. “You can talk after. You know talking is overrated,
anyway.”
I shove her playfully. “Only to you. Come on, let's go.”
As I open the door, the entrance is blocked by an enormous man. He’s
easily six feet tall, with a chest as wide as a building. His hair is shaved
military style and the predatory expression on his face is worsened by his
evil grin.
“Well, what do we have here?” he sneers down at me, before pulling me
out of the bathroom by my arm, almost ripping it out of the socket. He
knocks the wind from my body as he shoves me against the wall outside of
the ladies’ room. His body completely boxes me in, leaving no room for
escape.
Liz hurries over and tries to get between us, when another man grabs
her. He covers her mouth with his giant hand, and her eyes widen as he digs
a knife into her side. She tries to squirm free, but he squeezes her tighter.
She slacks against him, giving up her attempt to escape as tears run down
her face and her whimpers are barely audible beneath his hand.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, trying to hold my head up and not
show him how scared I am. Even though I can feel my heart beating against
my chest and my muscles tightening. I don’t know whether I should fight or
flee. These men are enormous, fighting will only get us hurt. I have to
believe that there’s a chance he’s got the wrong person here. This doesn’t
feel like a random assault, and we didn’t do anything wrong.
“I see you’ve been having a little fun with The Irishman,” he says,
confirming my suspicions.
Now I know he’s got the wrong person. Neal’s isn’t Irish.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We only came here for some
fun. I don’t know any Irish people.” My voice betrays me, my breath
coming out faster, but I hold my chin up, determined not to look
intimidated.
His face scrunches up in pure anger and frustration as he shoves me
harder against the wall. Pain shoots through my head and I can feel
something sharp press against my ribs.
“Don’t lie to me,” he says through gritted teeth. He leans in close, and I
can feel his breath on my face. “You’re going to send him a little message.”
 I try to remember something, anything, from the self-defense classes we
took when we first started at Columbia. But I know that I don’t have half
the strength needed to fight off this boulder of a man. So, my best bet is to
keep quiet and do what he says.
He presses the knife harder into my side, and I brace myself for the
sting of the blade.
Suddenly, he crashes into me, causing the knife to clatter to the floor.
He slides down my body. I look down and see blood on my dress, but I
can’t feel any pain. It can’t have been from a cut, the knife fell to the floor.
He falls onto his knees in front of me, his face contorted in pain. When I
look up, I see Neal standing there with a gun in his hand. It’s still pointed at
the man on the floor, not a flicker of uncertainty in his stance. A pool of
blood is forming around him, seeping from the bullet wounds in the back of
his knees.
Neal’s face is devoid of emotion; his eyes are cold as he stares at my
attacker. He looks nothing like the Neal that was with me on the dance floor
a few minutes ago. He steps closer and hits the man in the back of the head
with the butt of the gun, causing him to drop on his side to the floor.
On my other side, Killian is standing over the man that was holding Liz,
his gun pointing at him.
“Dorian, I’ve got the other two,” Neal says calmly into his phone. “VIP
Ladies room.” With that, he ends the call and puts his phone back in his
pocket, not meeting my gaze but making sure our attackers stay down.
Who are these people? Who is this man? I almost…
I can hear fast footsteps approaching as Hunter turns the corner and
walks toward us. Olivia isn’t with him, and I wonder where the hell she is.
She was with him; she was supposed to be safe.
“Amelia.” Neal’s voice is soft and low, trying not to scare me any
further. “Take Liz and go with Hunter.”
“Where’s Olivia?” I ignore Neal and direct my question straight to
Hunter.
“She’s safe. Come with me.” He tries to take my hand, to move me
away from the man on the floor, but I pull away. It’s obvious that I’m
surrounded by lying, violent men, and I don’t want to go with any of them. I
don’t know who’s more ignorant/oblivious, me for still standing here,
talking to them, or them for thinking that I’ll happily go with any one of
them after witnessing what I just did.
 “Liz, let’s go.” I take her hand and step over the man in front of me,
who is obviously still breathing, because I swear he just moved. Hunter
makes a move to follow us before I turn around and snarl at him. “You stay
the fuck away from us, all of you.”
He stops in his tracks, holding his hands up. “Let me escort you to a
safe place.”
I scoff at him. “A safe place? What the fuck would you know about a
safe place?” I almost scream, realizing my anger is mainly towards myself
and toward Neal. But he seems to be too preoccupied to be yelled at right
now.
Liz touches my arm and turns to Hunter, sounding brittle. “Thanks
Hunter, but I think we’ll just go home now.”
I’ve never heard her sound like this. She is a strong, confident woman,
the most confident person I’ve ever met. Hearing a voice so small, filled
with naivety, thinking they’ll just let us go, is heartbreaking.
“You can’t go home right now. We can’t risk people following you.
Would you please just follow me, and we will explain everything to you.”
He slowly approaches us, and we take a step back, before he adds, “Please.”
Right now, we don’t have much of a choice. We could turn around and
go home, but I don’t want to risk more dangerous people following us, and
probably getting to Olivia as well. That’s if Olivia made it home in one
piece. As I look over at Liz, I can see the tears still running down her
cheeks. We need to get away from here right now, then we can reassess. I
stare up at Hunter before I nod slowly, agreeing to go with him.
“Right then,” he says, his voice is warm and calming. “Follow me.”
We walk through the hall, leaving Neal and Killian alone with our
attackers. There are two bouncers stationed at the entrance, keeping
everyone out for the time being. The rest of the club is still in full swing.
Everyone is dancing, laughing below us, and having fun, completely
oblivious to the chaos in the back. Hunter leads us toward a side entrance
marked ‘Personnel Only’. As soon as we move through the door, and it
closes behind us, everything is drowned out. We can’t hear anything but the
sound of our heels on the floor. We pass what seems like the offices as we
walk along the hallway.
We reach a door, which reads ‘Neal Sanders’, and Hunter gestures for us
to enter. It’s a wide and open space, with a large hardwood desk centered
before large windows overlooking the club. We can see the people dancing
and drinking out there. There are two big couches to the left and a bar to the
right. The walls are filled with bookcases, and some art pieces fill the empty
spaces on the walls.
“There’s a bathroom through that door. If you want to freshen up, I’m
going to get the two of you a drink for the shock.” He moves toward the bar
and pours the both of us a stiff drink. Neither of us makes a move for the
bathroom, but rather takes a seat on one of the couches, sitting as close
together as humanly possible.
Hunter hands each of us a glass. “Drink up, it’ll help.”
“I don’t see how a drink is going to help us forget what we just saw,” I
say, downing my drink anyway. I will never admit this to him, but it is
actually helping. The alcohol is starting to work on my nervous system, and
I feel slightly more relaxed.
Liz takes a sip of hers and sets her glass down on the coffee table at our
feet. Her face is smeared with mascara, but at least she’s stopped crying.
“So, I guess you’re not club owners.”
“Not exactly.” Hunter strokes his jaw, furrowing his brows. “But it’s not
my place to tell you anything, we’ll have to wait for Neal.”
“Are you sure Olivia is safe?” I ask again. I won’t be able to live with
myself if anything happens to her because we dragged her to a club.
“Yes, she’s fine.” His voice really is soothing somehow, his grey eyes
filled with sympathy for our situation. “I had my driver take her to my place
before all of this. She’ll be safe there for the time being.”
I can’t explain why, but Hunter has a calming effect on me. Whether it’s
the stiff drink I just had, or the fact that I saw how taken he was with Olivia,
I’m certain I can take his word for it.
The door opens, causing Liz to jump in her seat next to me. Neal walks
toward us with deliberate steps. He places his gun on the desk and moves
his gaze toward me. His jaw twitches, like he’s holding something back, but
he doesn’t say anything to any of us.
Liz breaks the silence. “When can I speak to Killian?”
I can’t help but be shocked at her request. I’ve never known Liz to act
this way about any man. Obviously, this situation has shaken her up more
than I thought.
Neal nods at her. “Killian is waiting for you. Hunter will escort you
outside.” Liz looks at me, unsure whether she should leave me alone with
Neal. The debate is clear in her eyes. I nod at her, letting her know it’s okay.
Because I know the danger was out there, with those other men, not in here.
Not with Neal. It’s because of him that we’re still alive right now.
“It’s fine, I’ll be fine. I’ll catch up with you in a few.”
She hesitates before she nods at me and gets up to go with Hunter,
leaving me alone in the office with Neal. He moves toward the second
couch and takes a seat, resting his arms on his knees. The look in his mossy
green eyes is captivating, the look of a contained predator. It’s hard to
ignore the effect this man has on me, even after what’s happened. He shot
someone in front of me, but right now, my mind is thanking him for saving
my life.
Fidgeting in my seat, I cross my legs and reach for my glass. Realizing
it’s empty, I take Liz’s and down that as well, because I feel like I want to
go to him and climb into his lap so that he can hold me. And crazy thoughts
like those should be drowned in alcohol.
“So, what now?” I ask, not being able to stand the silence. “What
happens now?”
“Now, Amelia, you come with me. I will take you to my place, where
you can settle and spend the night. Liz will stay at Killian’s, and Olivia is
safe at Hunter’s. Tomorrow we’ll start sorting everything out, so you can
return to your own apartment.”
“If you think I’m leaving with you, you’re insane.” I glare at Neal,
challenging him to tell me differently.
“I assure you, there’s no safer place for you at the moment.” His intense
gaze doesn’t leave mine for a second. I might not understand what just
happened. But what I do know is that the man in front of me is more
dangerous than the people who attacked us. And I’m okay because of him.
Which makes me want to go with him. But I need something from him
before I agree.
“Tell me who you are first.” Looking him straight in the eye, I make it
apparent that I’m not going anywhere without that little tidbit of
information.
Holding his head high, he releases a breath.
“I’m Neal Sanders.” His eyes are gleaming as he adds, “Underboss of
the Castellano Crime Family.”
Fuck. Me.
 Chapter 8
Neal

“I’m Neal Sanders,” Staring straight into her stormy eyes, I give her
what she wants. “Underboss of the Castellano Crime Family.”
Telling her the truth is going to bring a shit storm my way, I’m certain
of it. My Uncle is not going to like this at all. Usually, we don’t tell anyone
who we are or what we do, it’s against our Code of Honor, the Omerta.
Especially when someone sees something they shouldn’t have seen. You’re
either part of us or you’re dead.
Somehow, the woman who was supposed to be a one-night stand has
pulled my biggest secret out of me. My body reacts to her like it knows
that’s where it belongs. My mind and reason escapes me every time I meet
her gaze and I know I’m in deep shit. Because right now, I don’t see any
other way out of this situation. I either have to tell her the truth or put a
bullet through her head, and there is no fucking way in hell I’m killing
Amelia.
Amelia is sitting on the couch, shocked into silence. Her hands are
opening and closing, like she’s trying to clutch to some kind of truth that
has just slipped away. Who can blame her after what she’s witnessed? I
wonder if it’s a good idea to separate her from her friends tonight, but I’m
too selfish to let her go. I want her with me.
“I need a cigarette,” she says as she gets up and starts pacing the length
of the office.
“I’m sorry. What?” Those were not the words I expected after revealing
myself to her.
There are no questions about my crimes, no shrieking, no running away.
She doesn’t even ask a single question about the men that are currently tied
up in one of our holding areas. The men who overstepped when they
touched her.
No, she wants a cigarette.
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me, thinking she fits right in.
She swings around to face me, pointing her finger at me, suddenly
seeming steady as a rock. “Don’t you dare fuck with me right now, Neal
Sanders, or I swear to God I’ll rip you apart.”
I’m sure she can read the shock on my face. No one has ever spoken to
me that way. Not in my entire life. People respect my position, and they
know I don’t fuck around. If someone tries talking to me that way, they
usually end up missing a body part. But hearing Amelia talk to me like that
just deepens my already insane attraction towards her. This woman
obviously has a fire inside of her, and if fuelled, she’ll burn down the world.
She starts shaking her head, as the truth starts to sink in. “I guess the
chances are slim to none that you’re joking. Given what happened
tonight…” She trails off, her eyes narrowing and a frown forming between
her beautiful eyes. I wonder what’s going through that mind of hers because
I don’t want her to be afraid of me. I’m far from done with her.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” I straighten and walk over to my desk,
opening the drawer and taking out my pack of cigarettes and a lighter,
holding it out to her. She eyes me suspiciously but reaches out to take it,
brushing my hand along the way. Amelia takes one out and lights up.
Seeing her lips around the cigarette butt, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks
in the smoke, is making me think about how she would look sucking on
other things. And I’ll be damned if that isn’t just the hottest fucking image.
“So, what’s Killian then? Is he a part of all this as well?” I’m assuming
she’s asking because she wants to know what type of man is with her friend
right now.
“Yes, Killian de Luca is one of my best men. He runs his own crews
who all work under me, and ultimately under my Uncle, the Don of the
Castellano Family.”
Amelia clears her throat and I expect some sort of hysterical screaming
bout to come my way, like the kind I witnessed earlier with Hunter. But
instead, she just nods along as she studies me. She isn’t looking at me like
she did earlier this evening, with lust filled eyes, ready to surrender. No,
now her gaze seems intense, decisive somehow. Like she’s trying to come
to terms with the information that’s been given to her.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Enter,” I call out without breaking eye contact with the powerful
firecracker in front of me.
“Boss, here are the girl’s belongings.” In my peripheral, Dorian shuffles
into the office.
 “Put them on the desk.” As I wait for Dorian to leave, my eyes never
leave Amelia. I don’t know if I’m waiting to see if she’ll run, or if she’ll try
to beg for help from Dorian, or if she'll make a run for her phone. But
Dorian leaves, without her moving or saying anything, and I release a
breath. At least I know now, she won’t run.
Getting up I get another round of drinks for the both of us, before she
breaks the silence between us. “So, if you’re the Underboss,” she says,
blowing out a cloud of smoke, “who attacked us?”
I hold out her drink as I sit on the edge of my desk. “The Irish Mob.
They hold the territory in Hell’s Kitchen and have been trying to drive me
out of mine for as long as I can remember.” There’s no way I’m going into
all the details right now. I’ve already put her life in jeopardy by telling her
who I am, I won’t worsen the situation by telling her all my dark, dirty
secrets.
“They hacked our systems tonight. They must have seen you with me
and thought that would be a better way to get to me.”
She nods, clearly preoccupied with her thoughts as she draws on her
cigarette.
“So now we can’t go home,” she affirms, more to herself than to me as
she takes the drink from me and downs it.
“Yes, not until we make sure they don’t have any personal information
of yours and that they can’t track you. Otherwise, they will use you again to
get to me.” Although, I will never let that happen. If someone so much as
touches a hair on her head, I will end them.
She nods as she moves toward me and leans over the desk to put out the
cigarette. Leaving her exposed back and her ass on display and I can feel
my dick responding. Even if this is not the time, or the place, her body still
has an effect on mine. Amelia grabs her purse, looks up and catches me
looking at her ass.
The corner of her mouth twitches. “I thought we were leaving?”
“We are.” I follow her to the door, not able to keep my eyes off her.
As we leave the office, we’re just in time to run into Killian and Liz. He
looks between me and the women, trying to gauge the situation. I nod,
letting him know he can speak in front of them.
“The two visitors are secured and they’re down for the night,” he says,
obviously not going into too much detail in front of them. He looks at his
girl and she moves to hug him tightly. She obviously has no issue with what
she’s learned tonight. Either that, or she is scared shitless.
“I’ll take her with me,” Killian says, looking over at Amelia, and I
wonder if he is about to ask her permission, because that would be a first.
She stares him down for a while before he adds, “Is that okay with you,
Amelia?”
“That’s fine, but you bring her to me tomorrow morning, Olivia as
well,” she says, her newfound fire still burning. Obviously, the safety of her
friends is extremely important to her.
I put my hand on the small of her back, touching her for the first time
since she saw me shooting her attacker. Her skin jumps underneath my
palm. She peers up at me, uncertainty flashing in her eyes for a second
before she leans a little more into my touch. I don’t dare to move my hand
as we head down the hall, toward the private garage in the basement of the
building.
Reaching my car, I open the passenger door for her. The hem of her
dress rides up slightly as she takes a seat. Those cream-coloured thighs are
filling my head with images of her wrapping them around me, pulling me
close, asking me to touch her again. I reluctantly pull my gaze away and
close the door. Walking around the car, I take a breath to clear my mind.
The drive over to my building is silent. Amelia doesn’t look at me,
staring out of the window instead, her fists tightly knotted in her lap.
Parking the car in my home garage, I glance over at her, but she doesn’t
meet my gaze.
“We’re here, Amelia,” I say, hoping she will talk to me. But considering
how the night went, I can honestly say neither of us expected us to go home
together under these circumstances. I have screwed up royally on this and
it’s going to take a lot to smooth things over with a lot of people, Amelia
included.
She gets out of the car without so much as a glance in my direction. I
lead her toward my private elevator, punch in the code and wait for the
doors to close. In this confined space I am hyper aware of her body, her
breathing, and all I want to do is pull her close. I’ve fucked up, but I can’t
let her go now. Not only will my enemies be looking for her, but if Romero
finds out, he is going to lose it. And I’m certain he’ll insist on me tying up
what he will see as a loose end.
 Looking at her, I can see a million emotions dancing across her face.
She looks as conflicted as I feel on the inside. I’ve never brought a woman
up to my penthouse. I’ve never wanted to before, but with Amelia, I want
nothing more than to see her safe in my bed.
The elevator stops at my floor, opening to the foyer. I step out in front
of her, realizing she isn’t following. “Come with me, Amelia.” I hold out
my hand toward her.
She looks down at my hand. Ignoring me, she walks right past me.
God, this woman is going to be the death of me.
She reaches the living area, her gaze moving around to take in my
minimalist décor, and without knowing it she goes to stand at the spot I so
often favor, to look out over the city. With the city lights lighting up her
face, it’s clear that her resolve is crumbling. I come up behind her, careful
not to overstep my bounds. For the first time in my life, I am at a loss. I
don’t know anything about her. All I know is that I’ll regret it forever if I
screw this up.
“Amelia.” My fingertips graze her shoulder, carefully moving along her
arm. She doesn’t flinch away from my touch like before, instead small
bumps form along the trail. Her skin feels soft and smooth beneath my
calloused fingers. It was difficult to control myself in the club, and I’m
finding it hard to control myself now, which never happens to me. I’m
always in control.
But not with her.
Despair crosses her face and I hate that I’m the cause of it. She’s been
so strong this entire evening and I admire her for it.
“What’s going to happen to me, Neal?” She doesn’t move her gaze from
the view, like she might find sanctuary out there somewhere. I want her to
find it here, with me.
I spin her around and look down into her eyes. Those remarkable eyes
that are a deep blue tonight, stealing their color from her dress. She is
searching for the answers in my eyes, and I hope she sees the conviction in
them as I say, “I will never let anything happen to you, Amelia.”
I lean down, because God knows I have wanted to kiss this woman the
whole evening. I’ve pulled her close, pressed her body against mine, ran my
hands over her skin, but right now I want nothing more than to know what
her lips taste like. I want to make her mine. Claim her as mine. I want every
inch of her to belong to me. Slowly, still sensing a little hesitation on her
side, I lean in and lightly brush her lips with mine.
“I want to believe you,” she whispers against my lips.
“So, do that.” I press my lips against hers again, asking for her trust,
asking her to open up to me. She pauses for a second before surrendering to
me. Her body relaxes in my grip and it’s like she’s breathing air back into
my body, giving me life. Our tongues swirl in perfect rhythm to each other.
Her hands move up to the nape of my neck, deepening our kiss. The fire
within her is licking at me, and I know it’s going to consume me.
Breaking our kiss, I pick her up and carry her upstairs to my bedroom.
There’s a bed in the middle of the room, a bed I’ve never shared with any
other woman. But I want Amelia in it, I want to see her body tangled in my
sheets. In the middle of the room, I gently release her to the floor, not
knowing how she’s feeling at the moment. I step away from her, waiting for
her to tell me...anything.
We stand there for a while, merely looking at each other, both of us
waiting on the other.
It’s not lost on me that I’m one of the most feared men in New York
City, and I am at the mercy of the woman in front of me. I’m the
Underboss, I give the orders, I kill, maim and torture for the sake of our
organization. I take control of everything, making sure everything goes the
way I need it to go. But here, with her, I give her the freedom to control the
situation.
Finally, she breaks the silence, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
“Will you hold me?”
A loose strand of hair catches my attention, and I gently tuck it behind
her ear. I turn her into my chest, running my hand along her spine. Reaching
the little string that has been on my mind the entire evening, I tug on it
slightly causing her dress to come apart and pool at her feet. Leaving her
standing in nothing but a scrap of lace.
It takes every drop of self-control to not take what I want. My eyes
roam over the dips and curves of her body, imagining tracing those lines
with my fingers, my tongue. But this isn’t about me, it’s about her. About
what she needs.
I undo the buttons of my dress shirt, take it off, and drape it across her
naked shoulders. Reaching around, I button her up. Seeing her all wrapped
up in my shirt is satisfying me more than I thought possible. Leading her
toward the bed, I open the covers so she can climb in. I get in on the other
side and pull her body into mine, holding her against me.
Her body fits perfectly against mine, like she was made for me. Kissing
her neck, I whisper, “Sweet dreams, Amelia.”

∞∞∞

As the sun creeps in through the curtains, I open my eyes to find the bed
empty. Seeing the other side of the bed tousled up is an unusual sight. I’m
still in my slacks from last night, and the belt I never took off is starting to
get uncomfortable. Looking around the room I see no sign of Amelia, but I
know she has to be around here somewhere, there’s no way for her to leave
the place without my knowing.
Getting up, I start looking for her. When I reach the door, I hear a weird
voice coming from downstairs, “...sending the hips up, reaching for the
sky.”
What the fuck?
I look over the landing to where Amelia is bent over in a strange
position, holding her firm little ass in the air. She seems to be wearing a pair
of my boxer shorts and one of my sleeveless workout shirts, which looks
good on her even if they are too big. Her hair is in a high ponytail and a
little trail of smoke coming from where her head is.
“Good morning, Amelia.” She falls on her knees, swearing under her
breath. Getting up, she puts out her cigarette.
With her hands on her hips, she says, “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You should have. I’m sure Killian and Liz will be here any minute,” I
say, struggling to get the picture of her in that bent over position out of my
head.
How I would love to get behind her.
“What on earth were you doing?” I’m genuinely curious about what
exactly I just saw down there. She tugs her shirt down a little and adjusts
the boxers, obviously self-conscience about wearing them.
“I’m doing yoga. I went through your closet looking for something to
wear. I hope that’s okay?”
“I don’t mind that you helped yourself to my clothes, which look very good
on you, by the way. But for the record, I also wouldn’t have minded naked
yoga.” She licks her lips and I hope she is picturing how a morning like that
would go. “I’ll send Dorian over to your place today to gather some of your
things.” I take out my phone and do just that before walking downstairs to
join her in the living area.
She already made herself at home, since the alluring smell of fresh
coffee is wafting from the kitchen. As I walk closer, I hear the oven
humming in the background and the smell of freshly baked bread is floating
from it. I didn’t even know that I had anything to bake bread with. “You’ve
been busy this morning.” A small smile creeps onto my face and I turn
around to find her staring at my back.
“Um...yeah, I’m sorry. My anxiety is acting up like crazy.” She chews
on her thumb nail, and I can see she’s trying to hold something in.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Amelia.” She is clearly incredibly
stressed out and obviously has something she wants to say.
Exasperated, she throws her hands in the air. “What did you expect,
Neal?” She takes a deep breath in, and then she lets loose bottled up
emotions from the last twenty-four hours.
“You are part of the fucking Mafia! I’m not stupid. I’ve seen movies and
documentaries. All that ‘sleeping with the fishes’ crap people always joke
about, and now it’s staring me in the face. Me!” She walks over to the
coffee table while mumbling, “I’ll be sleeping with the fucking fishes.”
Taking out another cigarette, she lights up and continues, obviously far
from finished with her little ranting session.
“This is not ideal,” she continues, shaking her head and inhaling deeply.
“I mean, I just came out of a serious relationship two days ago. And here I
am, holed up in some penthouse because people tried to kill me last night.”
She’s pacing now. I let her try to make sense of all that’s happened, it’s a lot
for anyone to handle.
Then she stops and looks at me. “Then there’s you. Obviously, I thought
I’d be coming back to your place. But I didn’t think my potential one-night
stand would turn out to be…well you. No offense.”
“I’m a little offended.” I hold my hand over my heart, feigning insult.
However, I don’t think she even heard me because she keeps going, pacing
and reasoning with herself.
 “You were supposed to be something temporary. And there’s nothing
temporary about any of this. It doesn’t even make sense, but it is what it is.”
She’s out of breath after letting all of that out. I make a move toward her,
but she’s not finished.
“And then I take over your place. Making coffee and baking bread like I
own the place. I basically ransacked your drawers looking for cigarettes,
and you know why? Because I’m a neurotic mess! That’s why! Luckily, I
found the television as well, otherwise I might have been worse off than I
am!”
I look over to see the television is on some weird yoga YouTube
channel.
Well, that explains the weird voice I heard earlier.
I can’t help the chuckle escaping me, and she whips her face toward me
“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Neal Sanders.”
I hold up my hands, trying my best not to break out in full out laughter.
“I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”
“I can’t actually do yoga,” she huffs. “But I’ve never been this anxious
before, so I was willing to try anything.”
Despite my best attempts my chuckle grows into full on laughter at the
woman in front of me. “Well, I don’t think you’re supposed to be doing it
while you’re smoking.”
She picks up a throw pillow and aims it in my direction, nearly
knocking over the lamp.
“Come here.” Catching the pillow, I throw it back on the couch.
“No,” she says, pouting a little. “You’re mocking me, Mr. Sanders.”
“I’m not mocking you. I swear.” Walking over to her, I take her in my
arms, the smile on her lips causing her face to light up. There’s no resisting
it, as I lean down and kiss her. She doesn’t hesitate to kiss me back this
time. Keeping it slow and deliberate, I can’t help but play her words over in
my head, about none of this being temporary. It’s something that should
make me run the other way, but instead it makes me want to pull her deeper
into my life.
She pulls way too quickly for my liking. She runs kisses all along my
jaw, her hands exploring my body.
“Tell me about your tattoo,” she whispers, running her fingers up and
over my back.
And just like that, I feel myself close down.
 What was I thinking?
I can’t tell her about my life. Knowing my title is one thing but
understanding who I am and where I come from is something else. She will
never be able to understand what I’ve been through; what I’ve done to be
the man I am today. Being the Underboss took a piece of my humanity, a
piece I gladly gave but will never get back. This is who I need to be, it’s
forever in my blood. And I can’t drag her into my life.
The confusion is clear on her face when I step back from her embrace.
“Maybe another time,” I say by way of dismissing the subject. “I’m
going to shower and get ready. The others will be here any minute.”
And with that I leave her, standing alone in the middle of the room.
 Chapter 9
Amelia

“So, you guys were downstairs this whole time?”

Liz and Olivia are sitting with me in the living area of Neal’s apartment,
we made ourselves some coffee and tea. We’re snacking on the rolls I baked
earlier, since dough in any form is always a winner in times of crisis, and as
it turns out, another one of my unhealthy addictions. Neal left with Hunter
and Killian after they arrived. Apparently, they have some business to
attend to, and I’m not totally unconvinced that it doesn’t have something to
do with those two men that attacked us last night. Luckily, Dorian already
stopped by and brought our clothes from our apartment, allowing us to
dress in our own clothes instead of some makeshift outfit out of our hosts’
closets.
The invasion of privacy is not lost on me. It feels strange to know that
Dorian went through our closets and packed our bags. What did he think
while he was busy going through our underwear drawers?
Oh God, did he see my vibrator? Kill me now.
“Yes, Hunter’s condo is on the floor below this one, and I’m guessing
Killian’s is on the one below his?” Olivia turns to Liz, asking her.
“Yup. The condos are amazing. Can’t believe they are so much better
than our apartment, and we don’t really live that far away from here.” She
takes a sip of her coffee. “Who knew the sex god trio were so close to us.”
“Now, now, don’t include us in your sexcapades there,” I say, with a
laugh. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who took your panties off last
night.”
“Well, you know me,” she says, with a shrug. “I get in, get what I want,
and get out.” Her eyes narrow and a frown forms between them. “Although
I’m not so sure how the ‘getting out’ part is going to work now that we’ve
been dragged into this whole ‘gangsters of New York’ business.”
Olivia sips her tea, staring into her cup as she says, “I’m sure everything
will be fine. Hunter said as soon as they deal with the threat, we’ll be able
to go about our own lives again.”
 “You don’t seem too excited by that idea, Olivia.” I reach over to place
my hand on her knee. She tries to laugh it off, without succeeding.
“It’s stupid. I mean, I don’t go looking for men, I don’t even think I
want one, and then I meet someone like Hunter…” she trails off.
“And?” Liz nudges her to continue her thought.
“And what? He is part of the Mafia. Can you tell me how that’s fair?”
Her voice starts to rise a bit. “I’ve never considered a serious relationship
with anyone, and here I am. I’ve never experienced anything like it, no one
has ever made me feel half of what he does. And it’s only been two days.”
She puts her tea down on the table, trying to gain her composure. “It just
doesn’t seem fair.” I know exactly how Olivia feels.
Neal has somehow made me cross lines I never thought I’d ever cross.
I’m not one to sleep around, yet I was ready to go there with him. I’d be
lying if I said that the thought didn’t cross my mind last night, and again
this morning. Even after everything that happened. He calls to me in a way
that I can’t put into words.
Liz looks over at me. “And you? Last night you and Neal seemed all hot
and heavy. Is that all out of the window now that you know who he is?”
I look down, as if the answer to her question is in my cup of coffee.
“Liz, regardless of my feelings for Neal, I just got out of a three-year
relationship, I’m starting my final year of studies, I have my mother’s
wedding that’s looming...I can’t even begin to understand what’s happening
between me and Neal.”
“Geez, why don’t you guys just try to see this for what it is?” Liz asks.
Olivia tucks her feet underneath her on the couch. “And what’s that?”
“One heck of a story about the time we went clubbing after Amelia
broke up with her boyfriend! This is going into our story bank, you know,
the things we laugh about when we’re seventy and sneaking wine at our
retirement centres.”
She’s right.
Neal can never be a part of my life. It doesn’t matter how drawn I am to
him. It’s just not the way it’s supposed to go. You’re supposed to meet the
guy, fall in love and get married. Not meet the guy, almost lose all your
inhibitions on the dance floor of a club and then almost get stabbed by the
Mob. It’s just not normal.
And yet, I had normal, and I didn’t want that either.
 “Isn’t it?” Liz asks us, since none of us said anything about her trying to
make this off as a drunken weekend story.
“So, you plan to never see Killian again?” I ask her.
She answers without hesitation. “Of course. That’s how I roll, baby.
Killian is one of the best nights I’ve ever had, don’t get me wrong there,
that guy seriously knows just how to please a woman. But it’s not a ‘happily
ever after’ situation.”
Olivia huffs. “I wish I could be as cavalier about this as you are.”
It doesn’t matter what our feelings are toward these men, the fact of the
matter is it’s not an easy situation. Whether we’re bailing like Liz, or falling
head over heels like Olivia, it’s not that simple because of who they are.
“Come on, you guys, stop this suckfest. They’ll sort things out with
those guys, we’ll sign some NDAs, or some shit like that, and we’ll be on
our way.” She gets up and walks over to the window, looking out over the
city. “I’m sure everything will go back to normal.”
I wonder who she’s trying to convince.

∞∞∞

It’s late in the afternoon already, and Neal isn’t back yet. The girls have
gone back to the condos to get their things ready. They are ready to leave all
of this behind.
And so am I, aren’t I?
Just then a pinging sound comes from the elevator. I’m expecting to see
Neal strolling in, telling me that everything is dealt with. But instead, it’s a
very handsome Italian man in a tailored black suit. He has grey hair, and a
perfectly trimmed grey beard, and he moves with deadly grace. Without
meaning to, I take a step back. I’m not certain who he is, but it’s clear that
he’s not here to have a cup of coffee and chat about the weather.
“Ah, you must be Amelia.” A smile spreads across his face, one that
doesn’t reach his eyes. They still look deadly as he looks me over. I’m in
my skinny jeans and a tank top, so I’m sure I’m failing this assessment,
seeing as he is better dressed than I am.
“I’m Amelia, yes.” My voice is coming out softer than I intended, so I
clear my throat and try again. “And you are?”
 I stick out my hand to greet him. I want to give him a firm handshake so
he can see I’m not that easily intimidated. Or at least pretend that I’m not.
He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing the top of my hand
while staring at me with his dark eyes. God, this man is intense.
“I’m Romero Castellano,” he says, keeping his eyes on mine. “Neal’s
Uncle.”
Fuck, he is the Don of the Family.
I’m sure he can see the moment I realize who he is. I feel a chill moving
along my spine, pure fear licking at my insides. Last night someone held a
knife against my chest, about ready to carve my heart out, and I wasn’t half
as frightened as I am at this moment. This man in front of me is the head of
their organization; he is in charge of everything. So, what is he doing here?
“I see you know who I am.” He walks over to Neal’s bar and pours
himself a drink. “My men inform me that there was a little incident at
Zenith last night.” He moves over to the couch, making himself
comfortable, seemingly relaxed, but I’m sure he’ll be able to jump up and
attack at a moment’s notice, like a panther.
“Yes, there was. Neal is out dealing with it right now.”
With gleaming eyes, he looks down at his drink and replies softly, “Is he
now?”
“I’m sure he’ll be back any minute.” Hopefully, he believes me. I wish
it were true. I don’t want to be alone with this man any longer than I have
to.
He continues, unfazed by the thought of Neal coming home, “You see
Amelia, you and your friend witnessed something last night. A part of my
business that I don’t want known to the world. We Castellano’s...” His smile
vanishes and all that’s left is a cold stare. “We’re very private people and I
don’t appreciate it when people know about my business.”
“It wasn’t exactly our intention to be attacked, Mr. Castellano, I’m sure
you can understand that.” This man might frighten the living daylights out
of me, but I don’t appreciate him insinuating that I entered myself into his
business on purpose.
“No, of course not.” He takes a sip of his drink, puts it on the table in
front of him, and takes out a pipe. He takes his time to stuff it with tobacco
before he lights it. The tattoos covering his hands are clearly visible, and he
is wearing the most garish ring. Neither of us says anything, and the silence
grows eerie. He blows out a cloud of smoke before continuing, “But I’m
sure you can appreciate the predicament we have now.”
“I’m not sure I follow you exactly, Mr. Castellano?” Is he seriously
sitting there and telling me what I think he is?
“You are not part of our Family. You don’t have anything to offer us,
business wise, so we can’t use you as one of our Associates. Currently, you
are students at Columbia. Not exactly something we can use.” I hate how he
uses the term something, and not someone, like we’re not real people, but
objects for him to use as he sees fit. The fact that he knows we’re students
just shows me that he knows more about me than I’d like.
“Why are you here explaining this to me? Are you going to get rid of
us?” I ask, thinking I might as well just be straight with him.
“My nephew was supposed to deal with the two of you last night.” It
almost sounds like a question. “But for some reason unbeknownst to me, he
decided to spare your lives. So, I came here to see for myself why Neal has
gone against my orders for the first time in his life.” He gets up and stalks
over to me. “What he could possibly have been thinking.”
As he draws nearer, I refuse to step back again. I will not let him
intimidate me any further. He towers over me, and I can see more tattoos
peeking out from underneath his dress shirt. Romero runs a hand up my arm
all the way to my shoulder and it chills me to the bone. It takes everything I
have not to flinch away from his touch.
“Seeing you now, I think I know what Neal was thinking.” He lifts my
chin with his finger, forcing me to meet his dark gaze. “You have only one
thing to offer me, and maybe after that I’ll decide whether you’re worth
keeping around.”
I pull my face out of his grip and glare at him, saying through clenched
teeth, “I’d rather you kill me right now.”
He holds my gaze for a second longer before he steps back, chuckling.
“Such fire. Mi fa sesso.”
I have no idea what he just said, but I’m certain it’s not something I
want to hear. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear before he turns
around and heads to the elevator.
“Until we meet again, Amelia.” He gets in and smiles at me as the door
closes. As soon as I see the elevator moving down, I let go of the breath I
was holding.
Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?
 ∞∞∞
When Neal returns, he finds me outside on the terrace, sitting on one of
the lounge chairs with a bottle of wine and his cigarettes. As a nurse in
training, I know this is not the healthiest coping mechanism, but desperate
times call for desperate measures. It’s nearly dark out, and the city lights are
starting to glow in the dusk. He sits down on the lounge chair next to mine,
taking the cigarette from my mouth as he draws on it.
My breath catches when I see the state he’s in. The skin on his hands is
broken, bloody and full of bruises. Which is nothing compared to the blood
spattered on his shirt and his neck. His dark green eyes are gleaming, and
his muscles are twitching beneath his shirt. He’s all coiled-up energy as he’s
sitting next to me.
“I took care of everything, Amelia.” Neal’s voice is low and raspy. “You
can go back to your life tomorrow.”
Seeing him like this drives home who he really is. This man is not
someone to be trifled with. His face is devoid of any emotion, like the state
of his hands, and his shirt is nothing new to him. I shouldn’t be surprised in
the least, he told me exactly who he was. Here he is, confirming it. Showing
me the beast lurking behind the composed exterior.
“Why tomorrow?” That is probably not the question I should be asking.
Why do your hands look like that? Whose blood is that on your shirt? Is
your Uncle going to kill me?
Any of those would be the logical choice. But from the moment I saw
him, all things logical and reasonable seem to be out of my grasp. And the
mere thought of leaving this place tomorrow is somehow scaring me more
than the bloodstained man in front of me.
“Because I need you with me, for one more night.” He peers up at me,
the predatory look in his eyes not relenting as he takes me in. Having him
look at me like that, showing me who he is does not scare me away. It only
draws me in further, a beckoning call from the Underboss in front of me,
and my body responds immediately. My pulse start racing as fire pools low
in my gut. All I can think about is having those hands all over me, as I
surrender everything to him.
Moving over to the edge of the chair, I empty the bottle of wine into my
glass before taking a sip, trying to put the images of Neal inside of me, out
of my head.
 “Can I open another bottle for you, Amelia?” Neal asks, his rough and
low, only adding fuel to the blaze inside of me. He finishes the cigarette and
flicks it over the edge of the building.
“No thank you, Neal.” I take another sip, hiding my smile, feeling the
wine warm me all over. One bottle is already numbing my inhibitions
slightly, another one would throw them out of the window.
“How did you deal with those men?” I’m not sure if now is the best
time to ask, but I want to know all of Neal. Not just the man who held me
so tenderly last night, but the Underboss in front of me right now.
“I made them give me the information I need. They won’t be bothering
you again,” he says without any emotion in his voice. Even like this, he is
the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. His dark hair and green eyes lure me
in, his broad chest and shoulders, muscles rippling underneath his clothes
with every breath he takes.
He’s like an angel from Hell.
It’s clear that he chose to come to me like this, so I could see who he is.
He wants me to understand that this is what his life entails. And that it is a
life I can’t be a part of. A life I know nothing of. And tomorrow, I’ll have to
leave him behind.
I get up and hold out my hand to him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Neal.”
Last night when I was a wreck, he took care of me. He held me and
comforted me. He gave me something I have never gotten from anyone in
my entire life. A safe place.
Tonight, I will do the same for him.
He places his hand in mine and stands. Pressing his hands to my lips, I
kiss his bruised knuckles one by one while he looks down at me. Kissing
the last one, I draw my gaze up to his. I put my hands on the side of his
face, loving the feel of his rough stubble under my palms as I gently pull his
face down toward me. Kissing him lightly, I tease his lips with my tongue.
At first, he lets me lead, allowing me to explore his kiss at my own pace.
Then he takes control, pressing me against his hard body as he licks and
nips. He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He walks us
back inside, up the stairs, into his en-suite bathroom, my core heating up as
he holds me against his body.
I am painfully aware that this will be the only night I ever get to spend
with him. Because he can’t have me in his life, and I can’t be a part of it.
Even though, deep down it aches at the thought of not being able to belong
to him fully.
But I will take what I can get.
He puts me down, not breaking our kiss, his mouth never leaving mine.
I move my hands up, over the dips in his abs, as I unbutton his shirt.
Running my hands over his bare chest, I shove his shirt over his broad
shoulders.
Neal’s pulling me closer as he explores my body. Reaching for the hem
of my shirt, he pulls it over my head in one swift motion, breaking our kiss,
leaving me gasping. As if he stole my only source of oxygen. Before I can
take it back, he takes a step back allowing his eyes to move over my body.
“Remove the rest, Amelia.” Without hesitation, I unbutton my jeans and
slide them down, leaving me in my underwear in front of him.
“All of it.” His voice comes out guttural, rough with desire and my body
responds to his commands without a second thought. As I remove my
underwear, his eyes drink me in, and I can see the desire burning in them as
he looks at all of me.
I’ve always felt very self-conscious about my body, always covering up
in some way when I had sex with Stefan. I always made sure the lights were
off or that I was underneath the covers. But standing like this in front of
Neal makes me feel beautiful and powerful. He steps closer, his pupils
dilating at the sight of my exposed breasts. The way this man’s eyes roam
over me, as if he’s mapping every inch of my body, makes me feel...
desirable. No one has ever looked at me this way.
I want him to touch me, to put his mouth on me.
His eyes rest on my hip bone, and the words written there, Beautiful
Mistake. I got it a few months ago, knowing I want to live a life where
every choice I make is beautiful, and my own. I don’t want to live with any
regrets.
His darkened gaze meets mine as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his
pants, pulling them down. Before I can admire the perfect man in front of
me, he pulls me against his body, groaning as he feels my nakedness against
him. Neal’s warmth radiates from him, calling to the fire burning in my
core. I can feel his hard length between our bodies, and I want to reach out
and touch him.
Before I get the chance, he lets go, turning his back to me to start the
water in the shower. Watching Neal, I can’t seem to draw my eyes away
from him. The tattoo covering his back is absolutely magnificent. A giant
deep-rooted tree, which seems to only be alive on the one side, covers his
entire back. The other side is full of empty branches, with birds flying into
the sky. It almost seems as if the branches of the tree come to life as his
muscles ripple and tighten beneath it. I can’t help but wonder about the
story behind it.
I am trying my best to make sense of what is happening between us.
There’s definitely an undeniable pull towards him. He’s part of a major
crime family in the city and I know he’s a dangerous and powerful man.
He’s a fearsome sight to behold. But I know that Neal would never hurt me.
I have never felt safer than I did last night, in his arms, when he held me.
He took care of me, and it left a sense of certainty within me.
He steps into the billowing steam. “Are you coming, Amelia?”
I will follow you anywhere, Neal.
Knowing I can never say those words out loud, I step into the scalding
water with him. Neal presses me up against the cold tiles, caging me in with
his hands as the water cascades down his body, letting it wash away the day
he had.
I take the soap, lathering it up in my hands before I run them all over his
body. Taking in every part of him. As my hands reach his erection, I take
him in both my hands, moving up and down his length, washing him and
pleasuring him. Feeling him like this is not nearly enough. Seeing him in all
his naked glory makes me ache for him.
I want this man inside of me.
Letting the water wash away the soap, I get down on my knees in front
of him. His body is leaning in such a way that he’s blocking most of the
water so that I can admire the virile man in front of me. Taking him in my
hand, sliding upward, a drop of pre-cum forms on the tip. Knowing that this
is all for me makes me want to devour him. I catch it with my tongue,
tasting him for the first time.
Opening my mouth, I take as much of him as I can on the first try, not
even reaching halfway before I feel his tip pressing against the back of my
throat. He lets out a hiss through gritted teeth as he grips my hair with one
hand, slowly pulling me off him as he watches himself glide out of my
mouth. I round my lips over his glistening head, savoring the salty sweet
taste that is Neal Sanders, before he presses himself back into my mouth.
 I do this again and again, making sure his tip hits the back of my throat
with every motion. Cupping his balls and gripping his base, I give this man
pleasure in every way I know how. The hard, velvety feel of him as he
moves in and out of my mouth is intoxicating, and I clench my thighs at the
thought of what it will feel like to finally have him inside of me.
I love knowing that I am the one who can give him pleasure. Right here,
on my knees in front of one of the most powerful men in the country, I am
the one who feels powerful knowing that he is, right at this moment, at my
mercy. Feeling his balls draw up slightly, I know he is close, and I work
harder for his sweet release.
With a guttural growl he tries to warn me, “Amelia...”
Hearing his voice so raw with pleasure just spurs me on as I take him
deeper into my throat. I feel him contracting in my mouth as he releases his
hot liquid down my throat. Not having had nearly enough of him, I suck
every last drop from him before I pull back slowly. He is still leaning
against the wall, his eyes closed as he recovers from his orgasm.
He pulls me up and kisses me deeply, not minding the taste of himself.
Smiling against my lips, he whispers, “My turn.”
 Chapter 10
Neal

To have Amelia on my bed, her body naked, exposed, and ready for
me to take, is better than any sense of satisfaction I’ve ever felt. Her creamy
thighs are pressed together in an attempt to hide her arousal, but the hungry
look in her eyes is betraying her. Desire fills them as I tower over her, her
lips slightly parted in anticipation.
She may have finished me off in the shower, with the hottest fucking
blowjob of my life, but I am far from done. I’m just getting started. If I’m
only allowed one night with this fiery angel in front of me, and I plan on
making her mine until the very moment I have to let her go.
My fingers feel their way from her ankle, along her sculpted legs, over
her thighs, teasing and taunting as I go. Resting on her hip, I follow the
lines and curves of the tattoo on her hip. Beautiful Mistake. She’s got the
beautiful part right, but she is most definitely not a mistake.
“Tell me, Amelia.” My gaze meets hers, my fingers still teasing her
skin. Her warm flesh coming alive at my touch is as addictive as any drug.
“Will I be a mistake?”
Her voice is unwavering and filled with need as she answers me, “The
only mistake would be to leave here, without being with you in every way
possible, Neal.” The glow from the city lights through the window cascade
over her body, revealing the change in her breath as she opens her thighs for
me in silent invitation.
Only a fool wouldn’t want every part of her, every chance he got.
“Show me more, Amelia. Show me what you want.”
A small flush creeps up her chest and neck as she opens herself in front
of me. My blood heats at the sight of her, seeing her surrender herself to
me, to take in any way I want. She lifts a finger to her lips, gently sucking
on it. The image of her on her knees before me flashes through my mind
and it takes all my self-control to not drive into her right now. She lowers
her wet finger between her legs, rubbing and spreading herself as her head
falls back.
 Lowering my mouth toward her, I trace a line on the inside of her thigh
with my tongue. Hints of vanilla and rose tease my senses, and I can’t help
but wonder what the rest of her will taste like. I have been with my fair
share of women, it’s not hard finding someone when you’re in the position
I’m in.
But this is different.
I know she is going to be different. I can feel it. My control isn’t what
it’s supposed to be when I’m in her presence. Even now, I have this sense of
certainty that once I have a taste, if I take what she is offering so freely, I
will forever be a changed man.
And yet, I can’t bring myself to get up and walk away from her.
Without further hesitation, I lower my mouth to her, meeting her finger
and sucking on it. Feeling her soft wet folds against my tongue/lips/mouth,
I can’t help the groan of satisfaction escaping me. She shudders at the
vibrations against her, while I nip, lick and savor every inch of her. Pinning
her thighs against the bed, Amelia twists her fingers through my hair and
presses me closer to her.
She’s getting greedy, and I love it.
I nip her clit with my teeth, hearing her moan in both pain and pleasure.
“Neal…” She doesn’t relent in her groping, now shamelessly grinding
against my face, chasing her own release. Seeing her like this, taking what
she wants from me, fills my mind with a thick cloud of lust. I slide two
fingers into her soft, wet center, relishing in the tightness. My dick twitches
in anticipation, imagining the feel of her gripping around me. My fingers
start to work inside her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
“Oh God, Neal.” She lifts her pelvis, meeting my fingers’ thrusts before
she reaches her climax. She contracts around me, her body shuddering as
the waves of pleasure wash over her. Watching her lose control, knowing
that I’m the reason she’s writhing in desire, makes me grin against her.
My gaze meets hers, those blue-green eyes hazed over as she comes
down from her high. Her breasts moving up and down in a fast-paced
rhythm as her breathing settles. She reaches out, her palms cupping my
face, as she pulls me up. My body moves over hers, I’m resting my elbows
on either side of her, keeping my full weight off her. Her nipples brush
against my chest with every breath, before she reaches up and runs her
tongue along my lips, tasting herself before she kisses me deeply. She
explores my mouth with lazy licks and moans, and all the blood rushes to
my groin just thinking of what she must be tasting.
“I want you inside of me, Neal.”
There’s no way in hell I’m denying that request. I have wanted her from
the moment I saw her, and now she will be mine, her body will be mine, in
every way.
Lowering my hips, I move to align myself with her entrance as her
hands move to my back, her fingertips tracing over my tattoo before she
braces herself. Without taking my eyes off her gaze, I slowly start sliding
into her. Her eyes widen and her lips part on a moan, as I push her open,
inch by inch. I can’t stop watching her, her reaction to me as I push into her
as deep as she can take me. My eyes close to the beautiful view in front of
me, savoring the feel of her hot wetness as she squeezes around me.
Fuck, I can come again right now.
My eyes fly open at the thought. Shit, I always use a condom. I never
forget.
For one thing, I don’t want to get pressured into marrying someone,
because if I should get someone pregnant, that’s exactly what will happen. I
can’t let a Castellano heir go unclaimed. Yet, I found myself pressured into
a marriage, regardless.
But with Amelia, I got carried away. I have this insane craving for her,
like I’ll never be able to get enough of her. Looking at her, she seems
confused as to why I stopped. Gesturing toward the bedside table, I say, “I
have condoms in there.”
Her eyes widen at the realization. I love the fact that that little tidbit
escaped her as well.
She swallows, lowering her gaze slightly. “I have that little stick thing
in my arm.”
“Stick thing?” I say, not knowing what the fuck she’s talking about. “I’d
like to think of it as more of a branch, or a mighty tree.” I glance down to
where our bodies meet. “And it’s definitely not in your arm.”
A small giggle escapes her. “Oh, believe me, it’s an almighty tree. But
that’s not what I’m referring to.” She bites her bottom lip, her gaze meeting
mine. “Birth control, I’m referring to my birth control method.”
Swallowing, I find myself a little disappointed, but I chase the thought
away as quick as it came. As much as I love the thought of being able to
finish inside of her, I can’t let this get out of hand. The fact that I’m
thinking like this should make me want to run, in any direction, but instead
I find myself confessing.
“I’ve never been with anyone without using a condom before, Amelia.”
I hope she understands that this means she is different, because fuck knows,
I can’t say the words out loud. It wouldn’t be fair. Nothing can come from
this.
Her lips meet mine in a soft kiss. “So, what are you waiting for, Neal?”
Those blue-green orbs beckon me and crush my mouth to hers, kissing
her deeply and fervently. Her breath catches against my lips at the loss of
me as I pull out of her. Sweeping her up in my arms, I move her up the bed,
a glint of anticipation clear on her face. I lower my head between her thighs
again, not able to resist having another taste, before I push her legs up and
open using my shoulders. I’ve wanted her in this position since the first
time I saw her. The sight of her open in front of me, so I can see myself
pushing into her, making her mine inch by inch.
Taking myself in hand, I glide my tip over her folds, spreading her
wetness around before I plunge into her. Leaning forward, pushing her legs
even wider, I quicken my pace, sliding in and out fully, loving the way she
grips my cock with every move. Amelia braces herself against my arms as I
start to fuck her harder. Her nails bearing into my biceps and I love
knowing that she’ll leave her mark on me.
“Neal...” She doesn’t finish her sentence as I pull out of her and flip her
onto her stomach. I grip her hips and pull them up toward me, her chest still
flat on the bed. Entering her from behind, she moans as I fill her up once
again. The sound of our bodies moving together, bounces of the walls, my
pace hard and fast as I drive into her.
Leaning over her back, my mouth hovering over her shoulder, I whisper,
“Come for me, Amelia.” I bite down into her shoulder, feeling that my own
release is close.
My fingers make their way between her legs, slightly adding pressure,
which seems to push her over the edge. Hearing her muffled screams and
feeling her contracting around me sends me over right after her. The fact
that I’m filling her with my cum satiates me in a way I can’t explain. As I
gently pull out of her, I watch my pearly liquid dripping slowly from her.
Fuck, I love seeing her like this. Mine.
Rolling her onto her back, I lay down next to her. She immediately
sidles up against my side, her body warm against me, as I hold her tight.
Her scent fills me, vanilla and rose, mixed with my own. Mine. I lower my
lips to her, kissing the top of her head as we try to catch our breath.
“That was...” she pants into my side. I peer down at her, but her eyes are
already closed, and her breathing has started to deepen. Her dark hair is
sprawled over my arm, her body is warm against mine, and I can’t help but
feel the crack this woman has made in my heart of stone. Tomorrow, I have
to let her go. She can’t be a part of my life because I know that if I let
myself, I will love her with every fiber of my being. And having a love like
that, in the life that I live, will get us both killed.

∞∞∞

Waking up this morning is definitely different from yesterday morning,

from every other morning. This time Amelia is sprawled out between my
sheets, her dark hair a mess after last night. We didn’t get much sleep, since
every time one of us woke up after a post-orgasmic nap, we woke the other
for more. I know she’ll be leaving today, still feeling me inside of her.
Sensing me staring at her, her eyes flutter open and a smile spreads across
her swollen lips.
“Good morning, Mr. Sanders.”
Her husky voice causes me to stir with desire again. “That look is going
to get you fucked, Amelia.” I lean over and kiss her. “Good morning to you
too.”
“We probably have to get ready soon,” she whispers, her face falling at
the realization that she has to leave today.
“Yes, we do.” The bed dips as I get up and walk over to the bathroom.
“And we have some paperwork to finish up before you go.” We might as
well try to make today quick and painless.
She sits up, allowing the sheet to pool at her hips, exposing her luscious
breasts. The bite mark on her shoulder is clearly visible, a ripple runs
through me at the sight of it, causing the welts she left on my back to stretch
with the movement. Her hair is disheveled, and her lips swollen from all the
making out last night. Seeing her in my bed, with all the signs that she was
good and thoroughly fucked, makes me want to go over there and do it all
over again. Usually, I take what I need from a woman and then I’m done.
But not with Amelia. I will never get enough of her.
God, this woman is driving me crazy. I need a cold shower.
I turn around and head into the bathroom, hearing a shout from the other
side of the door. “What paperwork?”
Turning the cold water on in the shower, I step in and drown out her
voice, trying to gain some sense of composure. But it’s no use, because she
storms into the bathroom, her body as naked as when I left her. “What
paperwork are you talking about?”
“You and Liz have to sign NDAs before you leave.” I say, without
opening my eyes to look at her. Because I swear to god, I’ll fuck her in this
cold shower.
“NDAs? Are there seriously contracts involved? You think we’ll tell
anyone what we know?” There’s obvious hurt in her voice that I’d think
she’d betray me. But that’s not the problem, I know she won’t tell anyone.
These contracts are a condition I agreed upon when I had a meeting with
my uncle yesterday.
“It’s not that, Amelia. NDAs protect you too.” I wash my body and get
out, since the cold shower is of no use when the woman you keep thinking
about is standing naked in front of you.
“From what? Any judge can overrule a private contract.” I tie a towel
around my waist and walk towards her.
“From my uncle. That was his condition. It’s either that or kill you. And
I think you’d agree that giving a signature is not so bad compared to the
alternative.” I walk around her, leaving the bathroom and heading for my
closet to start getting dressed. Maybe adding a layer of clothes will send my
dick the message that the fucking is over and done with.
“Who drew up the contract? I want to read it first before I sign
anything.” She follows me, obviously not caring that she is still naked.
She’s making it very hard to focus. She needs to put on some clothes,
otherwise she might not be able to walk out of here today. Walk normally, at
least.
“He had our lawyers draw it up.”
He was unimpressed by the fact that I disobeyed orders to say the least.
He preferred no witnesses to our business. At least, no witnesses he cannot
control in one way or another. I suggested the NDAs, keeping him from
doing something drastic. These women pose no threat to him or our Family.
As soon as this blows over, and he’ll forget Amelia ever existed.
She headed to the bed, pulled off the sheet, and wrapped it around her
body. “He came to see me yesterday.”
Fuck. This is not good.
Pretending like it’s no big deal, I continue to dress. “What did he talk to
you about?”
I don’t want her to get worried, she’s already a nervous wreck about
everything. If he came to see her, he wants something from her. I have to
nip his plans in the bud.
“He...” she grows quiet and sits down on the bed. My gaze meets hers, a
glimmer of fear in her eyes, and I hate it. She deserves a carefree and happy
life. Fear has no place in those eyes.
“He what, Amelia?” My voice rises and I walk over to her, sitting next
to her on the bed. He better not have fucking threatened her after we already
made an arrangement about handling this. He might be my Uncle, but if he
crosses a line, there’ll be hell to pay.
“Nothing, it’s not really anything. I just don’t like him, I don’t trust
him.” She looks at me. “Or his NDA.”
I take her face in my hands and try to reassure her. “There’s nothing to
worry about. I’ll go over it if you want, and have it sent to you tomorrow,
how’s that?”
Her shoulders relax a bit as she leans against me. Being this close to her,
knowing she is naked underneath that sheet, is making it exceedingly
difficult to resist her. “I’ll feel better if you look at it.” She leans up and
places a soft kiss on my lips. “Thank you, Neal.”
That kiss was the last straw. I put my hands on either side of her face,
kissing her deeply while tugging at the sheet to expose her naked body to
me. I lower my face, taking her nipple into my mouth, laving at it with my
tongue. Her breath grows a bit ragged as she asks, “I thought we had to get
ready?”
Getting up, I take off the clothes I had just put on. “Screw it. I need to
be inside of you, Amelia.” I push her onto her back and settle over her body
as I slide into her, finding her wet and ready for me.
“One last time,” I breathe, not knowing who I’m trying to convince.

∞∞∞
 The penthouse feels empty somehow. She hasn’t been gone all that
long. Fuck, she wasn’t even here that long to begin with, but her absence is
apparent in every way. Hunter and Killian came up after the women went
back to their own apartment. I arranged for a car to take them back since it
would be a risk if I were to be seen with them.
Yesterday we interrogated the two men we caught at Zenith, and some
interesting information came to light. ‘Interrogated’ is probably not the
right word for what went down, but if you want something, you must apply
pressure to the right points. The same goes for the human body. They
overstepped when they decided to go after Amelia, so they got what was
coming to them.
“Did you send the bodies back?” I ask Killian. We’re in my home
office, since this is one place Amelia didn’t spend time in. Which makes it
slightly easier for me to concentrate.
“Yes, we did. Packed up nicely and shipped back to where they came
from.” He’s sitting across from me as he takes his packet of cigarettes out of
his leather jacket and lights up.
“Excellent. How’s our little friend, William?” We have to get our plan
moving along before we lose our window of opportunity. They will surely
start to notice if their informant stays quiet for too long.
Hunter gets up and pours us all a drink. “We used his phone and made
contact. They set a meeting on Saturday night, at Éire.” It’s one of the clubs
Seamus’ Family owns in their territory. We need to get more information,
it’ll be a risk going in blind. So far, we know we have to meet Seamus’ son,
but we need more.
“Hunt, I’m going to need you to get me more.” I take my drink and
down it. “I’m sending you on Saturday. You have to make contact and see if
you can get yourself in somehow. We’ll take them down from the inside,
it’ll be much more effective if we can get to Seamus and his son.”
Something is tugging at me, knowing that the time has come for me to
face my family. To face my parents’ killer. I’ve always had a reason to
avenge their deaths, but my uncle has always assured me that the time
would come, and that it’s not something we could do on our own. But the
looming wedding has just upped the ante. This shit has to go down now.
“Neal, you know these people are your family, right?” Killian asks me, his
brow furrowing. “Seamus Flynn is your mother’s brother. His son is your
cousin.”
I understand that we have rules regarding family, but where were those
rules when he killed my parents?
“I know. That doesn’t change the fact he killed her for marrying my
father,” I snap at him. I close my eyes and try to get my emotions in check.
I’ve held on to this anger my entire life, it’s what’s driven me to this point.
“I still don’t understand. A deal was made between the Castellano’s and
the Flynn’s,” Killian continues, blowing out a cloud of smoke. I hold out
my hand to him, asking for a cigarette for myself.
“Yes, the deal was made between my two grandfathers, it was
something the Commission wanted. But apparently his son, Seamus, didn’t
like the fact that a Castellano would be running his family alongside his
sister, so he killed his father and his sister to take over.” I light my cigarette
and inhale, feeling the smoke fill my lungs.
My mother and father knew that I was in danger from my Uncle
Seamus, that’s why they registered me under my maternal grandmother’s
maiden name. They went into hiding a few years after I was born, because
Seamus threatened my life. He didn’t want to contend with my father’s heir
as well. But he found us, and he killed them.
“So, you’re planning on killing your uncle,” Hunter says, showing no
emotion. He knows that there is no place for emotions when you’re plotting
a hit. You get in, get it done and get out.
I nod. “When I’m done with all of this, I will be the Don of the
Castellano Family, I will have taken over their territory and the deal with
the Bastones can be cancelled.” I’m certain my uncle will see that I don’t
need a wife by my side to get shit done.
“I’ll get a few of my guys to scout out Éire during the week, so we can
get a lay of the land before Saturday.” He puts out his cigarette, his face
serious, taking on the task in front of us.
“Thank you, brother.” I turn toward Hunter. “And in the meantime, I need
you to arrange one of your best soldiers to keep an eye out for Amelia.”
“Why? I thought everything is clear and handled with them?” he asks,
clearly confused as to why we’re inserting ourselves in her business if we
broke off everything with the women.
“I’m not completely sure that Romero is done with them,” I tell him.
 Hunter starts shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “What about Olivia?”
“I have no idea what his plans are for Liz and Olivia. Amelia mentioned
that he came to see her yesterday, and I don’t fucking like it.” I get up and
get the bottle of Scotch from the bar. “I’m going to go through the NDA’s
before they sign anything.” Turning to them I continue, “he’s up to
something.”
“I thought you discussed this with him?” Killian asks, concern reaching
his eyes.
“I did. He seemed fine with the contracts and the fact that I’d handle
this my way.” Taking a seat across from them again, I put the bottle down
between the three of us. “But the fact that he came to see her...” Running a
hand over my face, I shudder at the thought. “I want to know what he
wants.”
“So, you want someone who can guard her?” Hunter asks, refilling his
glass.
“I want you to send someone who can insert themselves into her life.” I
know it’s a bit too much, but I’m not willing to take any chances with
Amelia’s safety. “Someone watching from afar is not enough. I want her
protected, so he has to try to be as close to her as possible.”
Hunter’s eyebrows rise. “Are you sure?”
“I didn’t say he should fuck her. If he touches her, he’ll be losing a
hand.” Anger rises in me at the thought of someone else touching what’s
mine. I know I can’t have her, can’t marry her, but that doesn’t mean I want
anyone else touching her, either.
“I’ll send Dwayne,” Hunter says, clearly knowing the best man for the
job. “He won’t overstep.”
“I’ll contact our people at Columbia to get him enrolled in Amelia’s
classes,” I say, nodding in agreement. “We can post two others who are
always nearby. They can keep an eye out for Liz and Olivia as well. But I
think more than three will be noticed.” Killian’s gaze falls, the leather chair
squeaking as he shifts around in it at the mention of Liz’s name.
“Killian, even though you’re done with Liz, she’s still important to
Amelia, so she falls under our protection as well,” I say, turning to Killian.
“I didn’t say anything! And by the way, who says I’m done with her?”
he asks, looking between me and Hunter, seemingly offended by the
accusation.
 “Oh please, it never takes you longer than a shower to get over a
woman,” Hunter retorts with a chuckle.
“Well...” He shrugs. “That may be true.” He lights another cigarette,
inhaling deeply. “But Liz is different.”
“Oh yeah? Because she didn’t take any of your shit?” I ask, laughing at
him, not really believing that he thinks she is different.
“No, it’s not that.” He looks down, almost ashamed, as a shy smile
spreads across his face.
“Then what?” Hunter asks, both of us now genuinely curious about
what’s going on in Killian’s mind. He’s never acted this way about a
woman before.
“She actually kicked me to the curb.” He places his hand over his heart.
“That has never happened before.”
“Well, fuck me sideways,” Hunter says. “Our boy is finally growing
up.”
Killian flicks his cigarette at Hunter. “You’re one to talk, dickwad. It’s
not like you don’t go balls deep with every woman you meet.”
Hunter brushes the cigarette butt from his jacket, and it lands on the
floor, burning a hole in my carpet. “Well, not every woman I meet.”
Killian’s eyes widen, he starts laughing at Hunter.
“You’re both idiots.” Struggling to not react at these two in front of me,
I add pointing to my burnt carpet, “And that’s coming out of your fucking
salary.”
 Chapter 11
Amelia

It’s Monday morning and I’m reeling.

This weekend has been crazy, to say the least. We came back to our
apartment this morning, and it’s strange to go back to our normal lives after
everything that’s happened. But I guess that was the deal. We agreed to stay
away from Neal and his men until one of them contacts us regarding the
NDAs. After that, all ties will be severed.
Today is the first day of class, so I’m sure it’ll be slow paced. It might
be exactly what I need to get a sense of normalcy. My hands run over my
shoulder, thinking about the bite marks Neal left there. My skin remembers
where he kissed me, how he traced my curves, the way he moved inside of
me. My thighs clench at the mere thought of him, wanting him again.
It’s not going to be easy to forget that man.
How am I supposed to forget him when my body can still feel him?
Especially since it’s like he claimed my entire being, and now I’m left
without him.
“Ames! Up, up and away, babe! Let’s go!” Liz calls from the kitchen. I
head out to find her standing there with two travel mugs filled with, what is
hopefully strong coffee. Her brown eyes are wide with excitement and she
looks ready to take on the world.
“I see you’re back to your old self,” I comment, remembering the crying
Liz from the club who sought comfort in the arms of a man. I take my cup
from her and take a much needed sip. Thankfully, she added an extra shot of
coffee, probably anticipating my need for a caffeine boost.
“Of course, I’m not that easy.”
I lift my eyebrows in response, smiling at her. “Sure.” As if she didn’t
give it to Killian as soon as she saw him.
“Oh please, I might be easy when it comes to sex. But this little thing...”
She taps the space over her heart. “She’s not for sale.”
“One of these days, Liz, you’re going to be eating your words,” I say,
hoping that she will someday put that out of her mind and open herself to
love. She is an amazing woman, and she deserves someone who will make
her happy.
“Maybe.” She takes a sip of her coffee, a pensive expression forming on
her face. “When I’m like seventy years old and my vibrator is all used up,
I’ll consider it.”
Laughing at her dismissal, I change the subject, knowing that she hates
talking about adding a real man to her life. “Where’s Olivia?”
“She left already. She said she wanted to get there early and prepare.”
“Prepare for what?” I frown, trying to figure out if I forgot something.
We’re not in the same department, I’m in Health and she’s in Psychology,
but still. It’s the first day of class. What does she want to prepare for?
“Fuck knows, but I left her to it. She hasn’t been herself since this
whole ordeal.” Liz grabs her keys and her bag. “Are you ready to rumble?”
“Yeah.” I double check my bag to see that I’ve got everything. “Maybe
we should do something to take her mind off what happened.”
“That might be a good idea.” Liz heads for the door. “Maybe we should
go out to a club.”
Her suggestion makes me stop dead in my tracks. “You better be
fucking kidding me.”
She erupts in laughter. “It’s way too easy to fuck with you.”
Before I can tear her a new one, the sound of ominous organs howls
from my bag. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping it’ll go away.
“You should just answer it and get that shit out of the way,” Liz
comments, glaring at me. “I’ll wait for you downstairs while you finish up.”
As she leaves me alone to my fate, I take out my phone and stare at the
screen flashing my mother’s name. I continue staring at it for a few
seconds, hoping she’ll give up before I have to pick up. But no such luck.
I take a deep breath and answer. “Hello, Mother.”
“Hi Amelia, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but I guess you had a
busy weekend.” I can hear her getting ready for work in the background.
She won’t be working for much longer, since Tom insisted that she spend
her time working the social calendar of the rich and famous. “Are you ready
for class to start?”
“Yes, it’s been busy. Is something wrong?” I ask, hoping she’ll just get
to the point.
“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong. I wanted to see if everything’s still set for the
fitting this weekend.” Her hopeful tone of voice fills me with anger. I get
that she’s hoping I’ll come, but can’t she understand that I don’t want to be
a part of her fucking day.
“Yes, mother. Even though the dress fits fine, I’ll come to the fitting.” I
keep my answer short, hoping we can just end this conversation.
“The wedding is in two weeks. Are you all set? Is Stefan flying in?”
Oh God, Stefan.
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No mother, Stefan won’t be
able to make it.” I don’t have the energy to go into details about the break-
up with my mother.
“Why not? Should I buy him a ticket?” she asks, trying her best to make
everything as easy as possible so that she can be sure I’ll show up. Because
not having your own daughter at your wedding wouldn’t be fitting. How
will she explain to everyone that her daughter is anything but happy and
joyous about her big day.
“Listen, I’ve got to go. Liz is waiting for me downstairs, and I don’t
want to be late on my first day.”
“Oh, I understand.” The disappointment in her voice is obvious at the
fact that I’m cutting our conversation short. “You have a good first day,
Amelia.” Before everything that happened, we used to talk over the phone
every day, and never less than half an hour. These days I don’t even want to
answer the phone when she calls.
“Thanks, see you this weekend.” I end the call, sagging against the door.
The guilt for treating my mother this way is gnawing at me. But fuck
knows, I can’t deal with it. I don’t have it in me to forgive and forget. I’m
just not a good enough person for that, I guess.
How am I going to get through all this wedding shit in one piece?
I need a smoke.

∞∞∞

I’m outside of Philosophy Hall, my absolute favorite place on campus.

Philosophy is not my major, but it’s a prerequisite for nursing students to
have two liberal arts courses. It’s supposed to help with our communication
skills and our ability to think globally. My mother doesn’t see the purpose
of it, since she reckons it’s going to distract me. Like I’m not capable of
handling more than one area of focus. If she only knew half shit I have to
deal with right now, I’m sure she’d be pushing me into Philosophy Hall
herself. As I walk towards my favorite spot underneath one of the trees, I
find that someone is already occupying my spot.
Great, just what I need today.
“Excuse me?” I draw nearer to the guy sitting there. He looks up at me
from his textbook. The same one I have tucked under my arm. He has an
amazing smile and the kindest eyes. The leaves on the ground are clinging
to his skinny jeans and boots, and the sweater he’s wearing matches his
dark brown eyes. “I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re kind of in my spot.”
Any other day, I would have just left. But today I need some semblance
of sanity. Sitting beneath this tree, looking at the statue of The Thinker,
helps me sort out the shit show that is my mind. The fact that he looks so
friendly makes me feel like an even bigger asshole.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He looks around, seemingly looking for something. “Is
there a little ‘reserved’ sign here somewhere that I missed?”
“No.” Peering down, I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “It’s just
that this spot kind of brings me a sense of...” I trail off, not knowing why
I’m explaining myself to a complete stranger. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll just
find another spot.” I scan the immediate area for another spot, but my heart
isn’t in it. I’m contemplating leaving when he says, “You don’t look so
good, are you okay?”
“Nothing a bottle of tequila and a pack of cigarettes can’t fix,” I
mumble under my breath, but the amused expression on his face tells me
that he heard me just fine.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any tequila with me at the moment, but I can
help you out with a smoke.” He takes out a packet of cigarettes and holds it
out to me. Setting my bag down, I sit against the tree, taking one from him I
lean in as he lights it for me. The calming effect is immediate as I draw in
and close my eyes.
“You’re a real lifesaver. I owe you my first-born child for this.” Smoke
spills from my lips with every word.
He lets out a deep chuckle. “Fuck, it must be bad if you’re offering up
your offspring.”
I can feel myself blushing a bit. “You have no idea.”
“Well, you can keep your children,” he says, not at all unkind. His smile
is one of the friendliest and most inviting I’ve ever come across. “I’ll settle
for a name instead, how’s that?”
Smiling back at him, I answer, “Amelia. My name is Amelia.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Amelia.” He lights his own cigarette. “I’m
Dwayne. And you don’t even have to pay for that one.” He runs a hand
through his ruffled blond hair and the movement pulls my focus to the giant
textbook in his lap again.
“I see you have Sidorsky for Philosophy.” I’m aware that I’m imposing
on a stranger’s time and space… not to mention his cigarettes. The least I
can do is try to make small talk.
His brows draw together, and I point to the textbook in his lap. “Oh,
yes. I guess I have.”
I take out my textbook and wave it at him. “Me too. Now there’ll be at
least one friendly face in the lecture hall.”
“My face might not always be friendly, this is just something I put on
when I speak to beautiful girls.” A deep chuckle escapes him. “You should
see my face when I’m trying to concentrate.” He leans in a bit, his eyes
filled with amusement. “I’m warning you, it’s not pretty.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re actually going through the work
beforehand, I consider that a good start.”
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth before he returns to his
cigarette. He really does appear friendly. Maybe it’s a good thing that I met
him. I’m always screwed when it comes to class projects or partnering up
for assignments, because I don’t know anyone. It’s probably my fault for
mostly keeping to myself. And to be honest, I don’t really make an effort to
make new friends, because I’m content with the friends I already have. But
Dwayne genuinely seems nice, and he looks like someone I could get along
with.
Dwayne leans in and whispers, “You’re staring at me.”
Embarrassed at being caught, I try to explain. “I’m so sorry. I just can’t
believe my luck in actually meeting someone who’s in my class. This never
happens.”
“Well, I’m glad you consider this a good thing. That way we can partner
up for assignments.” He takes out his phone, checking on a message he had
received. “And it’s great to have a smoking buddy now. Just think of all the
smoke breaks we can take while doing our work.”
“Oh, you know just what to say to a girl, don’t you?” I place my hand
over my heart mockingly.
 “I’m just getting warmed up, you’ll never want another partner again
after we knock the first project out of the park.”
My phone buzzes in my bag, and those damn organs start blaring up
again. The people walking by glance at me with mixed expressions of
horror and humor.
“What the fuck is that?” Dwayne asks, looking at my bag. “You know
your bag is making a shitload of noise, right?”
“Yup,” I say, taking out another cigarette instead and holding the pack
out to him. “Just ignore it, it’ll go away soon enough.”
He takes one, saying nothing about the fact that I’m offering him one of
his own cigarettes, and lights it. “Are you ignoring an ex-boyfriend?”
“The woman who gave birth to me,” I tell him, frowning. “Why do you
think it’s an ex-boyfriend?”
“It just seems like the type of ringtone someone assigns to an asshole,”
he says matter-of-factly.
I like him already.
“Well, you’ve got the asshole part right.” Blowing out a cloud of smoke,
I add, “Dwayne, how would you feel about accompanying me to a wedding
in two weeks?”
“You’re inviting me to a wedding?” he asks incredulously. “You don’t
even know me.”
“That’s true, all I know is that you described my mother using a perfect
word.” I know it’s a crazy idea, but I think we will have fun together. “And
if you end up being some kind of psycho, I’ll have the perfect excuse to
leave early.”
“Will there be alcohol?”
“Oh yes.” I nod at him. “There will be plenty of alcohol.”
“That,” he points his cigarette at me, “sounds like something I can get
into.” He chuckles and puts out his cigarette. “Who knew I’d score a
wedding date outside of Philosophy Hall?”
“It must be your lucky day, Dwayne.” I pack my stuff and start to get
up. “You want to get some coffee?”
“You read my mind, Amelia.” He puts away his textbook and I extend
my hand to help him get up. Brushing the leaves from our pants, we get
ready to leave and I glance up at Dwayne, knowing that I just made some
sort of friend. He’s not Stefan, and he’s definitely not Neal.
Which makes him exactly what I need right now.
 ∞∞∞

The rest of the week flies by as I settle into my new classes. Dwayne is
in both my liberal arts classes and it’s been fun having him around. He has
the ability to lighten my mood. I have a new schedule at the hospital, and
it’s taken up most of my free time after classes, but I really can’t complain.
It’s exhilarating getting to work in a real hospital and I find myself wishing
that this year was over already, so I can start working for real. The rush the
ER offers has a way of clearing my mind like nothing else, and it’s the part
of the day I look forward to the most.
I haven’t heard anything from Neal or seen the contracts we’re
supposed to sign, but I doubt that he has forgotten. I don’t think it bothers
Liz in the slightest, since she is already up to her old antics again. She had
the first new guy at the apartment already, so she has clearly moved on from
Killian. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. She told us Killian wasn’t going
to stick.
Olivia, on the other hand, hasn’t been the same since the weekend. She
is quieter and more reserved than before, and I’m starting to worry about
her. We haven’t really had the time to do our little girls’ night yet.
Tomorrow after class, I have a dress fitting with my mother. Afterwards
we’re making time to get together, with a shitload of alcohol, because I’m
pretty sure I’m going to need it after spending an afternoon with my mother.
I’m lying in bed, just about to drift off, when my vibrating phone pulls
my attention. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hope it’s not my mother wanting to
confirm tomorrow again. I pick it up seeing that it is a call from a number I
don’t know. Holding my breath... I pick up.
“Amelia.” Hearing Neal’s deep and rough voice on the other end fills
me with a sense of relief. A small smile spreads over my face.
“Hi, Neal.” I’m not sure why I’m whispering, but it feels like I should.
“How has your week been?”
“Alright, mostly been settling in with the new classes... and yours?” I
cringe at the thought that I just asked him that question. How do you ask the
Underboss of a major crime Family how his week has been? It’s not like
he’s going to tell me anything real.
 “Busy.” He stays quiet on the other end for a while, and I wonder why
he called if he can’t say what he wants to say.
He’s silent for a few seconds before saying, “The reason I’m calling,
Amelia, is about the NDA.”
“Oh, okay? I haven’t received anything yet,” I say, confused. I haven’t
forgotten about it, I guess I hoped that somehow it would go away. A
foolish notion, I know, but something I hoped for nonetheless. “Is
something wrong?”
“I read through it. My uncle added a clause that I’m not sure about.” He
doesn’t elaborate any further.
“What is it, Neal?”
He sighs. “He stated that he’ll be able to request any services from you
without you being able to refuse.”
Shit, I don’t like the sound of that.
“What do you think about it?” I ask him. He knows his uncle better than
anyone and I trust his judgement on this. He would tell me his honest
opinion about handling the matter.
“I’ve always trusted my uncle in everything, Amelia.” He pauses, and I
can hear him lighting a cigarette. “But something about this feels off.”
I let out a breath, glad that he sees it the same way I do. “So, what do
you want me to do?”
“Give me a few days. I’ll talk to him about it, try to see if I can figure
out his plan. But I want you to prepare yourself.”
“Prepare myself for what?” Frowning, I pull my knees up to my chest,
my heart beating so hard it vibrates through my body.
“The fact that he put that in the contract means that he wants something
from you.”
“And he gets what he wants?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but
having to ask it, anyway.
“Always. One way or another.”
“That’s great. That’s just fucking great, Neal.” I get up and walk to the
window, looking out over the city, trying to calm myself by watching the
lights but coming up empty. My whole body is restless now.
“Listen, Amelia. I want you to go on with your normal life as if nothing
happened. Just keep your eyes open, and if you see anything that unsettles
you, you let me know immediately.”
 As I look down at the phone, I realize he didn’t use a private number.
Now I’ll be able to contact him on this number if necessary.
“Okay, I guess I can do that.” My forehead rests against the window. A
sigh escapes me before asking the one question dancing around in my mind.
“Will I see you again, Neal?”
He’s quiet on the other end, and I know the answer before he says it out
loud. “I wish we could, but I’m afraid not.”
I hate this feeling of vulnerability, but I can’t not tell him how I feel
right now. I want him to know. “I wish it were different.”
I can hear him letting out a strained breath on the other end of the
phone. “You have no idea how much I want to touch you, Amelia. I’ve been
thinking about it all week.”
“Me too.” I smile at the fact that he’s been thinking about me too.
“How’s your shoulder?” he asks, referring to the marks he left on me.
“It’s starting to fade away, and I don’t like it.”
“You like being marked by me?” I can hear his need for me in his voice.
“I do, Neal. It makes me feel like I belong to you.” I squeeze my eyes
shut and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can’t believe I’m saying these
things to him. I know I’m setting myself up for disappointment. He stays
quiet on the other side of the phone, hesitating. I know I’ve gone too far. He
doesn’t owe me anything, and here I am saying I feel like I belong to him.
I open my mouth to say goodbye, to put us both out of our misery, when
he says, “I wish you could belong to me, Amelia.”
Then the line goes dead.
 Chapter 12
Neal

I hang up the phone.

I told Amelia that I wish she belonged to me.
I’m such a fucking idiot.
Travis acquired the phone, so I can contact Amelia without it showing
up on my uncle’s radar. The fact that he snuck that part into the NDA about
using her whenever he wants, means that he has plans for her, regardless.
Adding my feelings to the mix might make things worse for her. I’m not
sure what those are right now, but I know that it’s more than mere
attraction. If it were only that, she’d be fucked out of my system by now.
I’m fairly certain that he suspects there’s something more to her, and that’s
an idea I have to quell. Fuck knows, he’ll find a way to use her to get this
deal with the Bastone Family even quicker. I know it.
I just need a little more time. Killian scoped Éira and the surroundings
this week. But I still don’t like the idea of Hunter going in alone. If only we
could send William in as well, to take the focus off Hunter, to be a
distraction. But I don’t want the outcome of my plan to depend on a person
I don’t trust for shit. Hopefully, Hunter can get close enough so we can get
a tail on their Underboss, if nothing else. I’m sure he’ll lead us to Seamus.
That would put my plan into motion, and just in time, it seems.
I got a message from Salvatore ordering me to dinner at my uncle’s
house tomorrow night. Arica wants to meet me in person to ‘make her
decision’. As if either of us has a choice in this, it’s all just a formality. If
my uncle could have it his way, we’d be married by the end of the month.
To top it all off, I must make a public proposal to Arica Bastone. Luckily,
there’s no wedding date set yet. I just have to stall this for as long as
possible.
And still, all I can think about is having Amelia in my bed, in my arms,
and the way it feels to be inside of her. My hand clenches around the phone
I’m still holding, wanting to text her. But I can’t, I’ve already said too
much. Pulling the desk drawer open, I toss the phone in, so it doesn’t
distract me.
 There’s a knock at my door, before Hunter’s serious face appears
around the door. “Boss, you’ve got time for a quick update?”
“Sure.” The expression on his face tells me he needs a drink. Thinking I
could use one to clear my head too, I make my way to the bar to pour us
each a glass. “Can I pour you one?”
“Thanks.” He takes a seat at my desk, tension rolling off him in waves.
“What’s going on, Hunt?” I pass him his drink and take a seat at my
desk. Hunter is usually not this tightly wound. He has a carefree nature
about him. Not like Killian, usually more controlled. But the man in front of
me is tense like a tightly drawn bowstring.
“Dwayne made contact. He’s been spending time with Amelia.” He
downs his drink and lights a cigarette. “He says she’s invited him to her
mother’s wedding next week.”
The monster inside me rears its head in obvious jealousy. “Is that so?”
Feeling the irritation stir in me, begging to be let out somehow, I get up
again and walk toward the window overlooking the club. It’s full and the
people are dancing, seemingly not a care in the world. I’m envious of them,
too. I want to be the one Amelia invites, but I can’t, because I have a
Family to run. I’m not the type of man you take to meet your family.
Another reason it’s better to marry within La Cosa Nostra, no surprises.
Your mother-in-law won’t be too shocked if you have blood on your collar
at the dinner table.
Taking a sip of my drink, I point out the obvious. “At least we’ll have
someone on the inside.”
“I agree.” He smirks. “I would still prefer that one of us accompany
them.” I know that’s how I feel about the situation, but why is Hunter being
so adamant about it?
I turn around at the sound of annoyance in his voice. “Say what you
want to say, Hunter.”
He gets up and drags his hands through his hair. “I want to be able to be
with Olivia. I want to go with her to the wedding. But she’s taking some
other guy she baked muffins for or something.”
“You know the rules.” I smile at my Capo, my friend. I have never seen
him this turned out over a woman before. “If you want her, you have to
make her a part of the Family. There are only two ways into our life. You’re
either born into it, or you marry into it.”
“I know that.” His gaze drops to the floor. “She’s too good for this life.”
 I walk over and pat him on the back. “Hunt, try looking at it this way.
We’re businessmen. We run legitimate businesses. Sure, some of them are
not on the books, but for the most part they’re legitimate. We look after our
Family, we are loyal, strong and dependable men. You have a lot to offer
her.” Hunter is in a position to offer something to Olivia, to at least try with
her, if she’s able to live the type of life we live. He shouldn’t take that for
granted.
“And what about the brothels I run, she’ll be heading straight for the
hills when she finds out.” He gets up and starts pacing, smoking like
Killian. This woman has got him, hook, line and sinker.
Struggling to cover up my amusement, I say, “Yeah, that part’s all you.
Good luck explaining that to any woman.” I refill our drinks before saying,
“Besides, you know that if she wants in, she’s going to have to apply the
right way.”
“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that.” His eyes widen and a small smile
forms on his face at the thought. “I’d love to see that though.”
“I bet you do.” I hand him his drink, which he eagerly takes from me.
“It might be an incredibly old tradition, but it’s still tradition.” The men
have their own initiation rites, which are a lot more violent in nature. The
women must perform a dance, or rather a seduction, in one of our clubs.
Supposedly it’s to show that she is willing to come to him, naked and baring
all, seducing him to take her in. To claim her as his own.
He slowly sips his drink, smiling at the thought of Olivia dancing for
him when it hits him. “Shit, she’s never going to do that.”
Just thinking about Amelia dancing for me has me readjusting my pants
a little. My eyes are drawn to the drawer holding the phone, wondering if
she sent a message. Shaking my head, I try to clear my head of the image of
Amelia performing a seduction for me, and any thoughts of her making
contact. I was clear about where we stand, and I have to put her out of my
head.
Because Amelia will never dance for me. Arica will have to.
“Rules are rules, Hunt.”
Unfortunately for me.

∞∞∞
 I had to drive all the way out to the Hamptons for tonight’s dinner. My
uncle has a place in the city, but for big business deals like this one, he
always uses the Hampton house. It’s one of the houses I grew up in. We
used to come up here for a few weeks during summer vacation.
Driving up to the entrance, it’s clear that I’m the first one to arrive. The
burner phone is clutched in my hand, drawing my attention to its screen. No
messages from Amelia since we last spoke. I shove it in my pocket with
clear annoyance at the fact that she’s pulling at my focus. Taking a deep
breath, I get out of the car and head towards the house.
Let the games begin.
I ring the doorbell and Marisol’s short, stout figure opens the door. She
has been working for my Family for as long as I can remember and seeing
her makes me feel a little less worried about tonight.
I smile at her friendly, familiar face. “Ah Marisol, it’s good to see you.”
She steps aside, gesturing for me to enter. “It’s good to see you too, Mr.
Sanders.” She holds out her arm for my jacket, before continuing, “They are
in the living area, waiting for you.”
Nodding at her, I hand her my jacket and make my way through to the
living area.
It is a beautiful house, filled with modern furniture. Aunt Katherine isn’t
one for old traditional furnishings, to my uncle’s dismay. She lets him keep
his family antiques in his office, while she fills the house with the newest
art and decorations she can find.
As I enter the living area, my aunt gets up to greet me. “Neal, it’s so
good to see you, son.” I kiss her on both cheeks as she holds me at arms’
length, looking up at me. “I can’t believe we’re here to discuss your
engagement. It seems like just yesterday you were running around on the
beach with Killian.”
She is immaculate, as always. Her blonde hair falling down her shoulder
in waves, dressed in the newest couture. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her
without high heels. “You look beautiful Zia. Romero is a lucky man to have
been matched with you.”
She smiles at that. “You flatter me. Come have a seat, I’ll get you a
drink before our guests arrive.”
I walk over to where my uncle is sitting in his chair. His legs crossed,
cigar in one hand and his drink in the other. He opens his arms as a sign of
welcome as he smiles at me. “Piccolo, I can’t tell you how happy I am that
we’re finally at this point. Come, sit down, have a cigar to celebrate the
occasion.” He holds out his cigar case toward me, letting me pick one.
I light the cigar as my aunt hands me my drink. “I’m going to check on
Marisol and the dinner and let you two talk business.” She heads toward the
kitchen, leaving me and my uncle alone.
“So, when do our guests arrive?” Hopefully, we have a little more time
before they get here.
“They’ll be here shortly.”
“Good. I want to talk to you about the contracts the lawyers sent over.”
“Have they not been signed yet?” He sits forward, making a tsk-ing
sound, like he’s scolding a child. “Piccolo, I told you I needed those
contracts signed before you let them go. You’re growing soft, son. That girl
has once again seduced you into disobeying direct orders. Did I make a
mistake by leaving you to handle this?”
I’ve handled his business for the past year, without his help or input.
Scoffing at his comment, I sit back, feigning indifference. “Not at all, Il
Capo.” I answer, addressing him as my boss, letting him think that I am his
to order around.
For a little while longer, at least.
“And there’s the fact that you have a little guest in your basement at
Mavericks. Why have I not been informed about this?” He blows out a
cloud of smoke, his dark eyes boring into mine. He does not like being kept
out of the loop, he is the Don after all. I’ve never gone against him, and
now I’ve fucked up twice. I have to play this his way. The last thing I want
is for him to lose faith in my ability to lead the Family.
“Well, you’ve obviously already been informed, since you’re the one
bringing it up.” I take a sip of my drink, not able to help the contempt in my
voice. “I guess Salvatore is more than your Consigliere these days. He truly
has the makings of a rat.” If he goes running to my uncle every chance he
gets, it’ll only seal his fate when I take over. I can’t work with someone
who isn’t loyal to me.
“Salvatore respects me enough to keep me informed.” He glares at me
with a challenge in his eyes. “I call that loyalty.”
“I call that running your mouth. Could Salvatore actually provide you
with more than the fact that I have someone detained?” My uncle’s eyes are
gleaming with anger, the only tell that he’s absolutely furious about not
knowing what’s going on. “I take that as a no.”
 “So, are you going to tell me who you’ve been torturing and why?” His
voice is smooth and dangerous, like a snake slowly curling up, readying to
strike.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I down my drink before I continue, “I’ve always
been your enforcer, Uncle, always done what’s best for the Family. Fuck,
here I am again, dressed up and ready to meet my fiancée. For my Family.
I’m not the one who’s loyalty should be questioned, and you know it.”
His stare burns through me, before he sits back in his chair with a sigh
and continues smoking his cigar. “You’re right, Piccolo. Now tell me,
what’s going on?”
“We found an Irish informant lurking around at Mavericks and he can
lead us to their Underboss. We have a meeting set up for tomorrow night at
one of their clubs.” This can’t be bad news to him, he’s always wanted this.
For all he knows I’m getting everything set up for when we have the
necessary soldiers and weapons for the take-over. He doesn’t need to know
that I’m planning to make this happen without the help of the Bastone’s.
“I thought I told you that we’ll annihilate them after your wedding. With
the men and the weapons provided by the Bastones.” His face is hard as
stone, but there’s an edge of annoyance in his voice, which would have
gone unnoticed by anyone who hasn’t known him as long as I have.
“I couldn’t let this opportunity go by. The more information we gather,
the more prepared we’ll be when the time comes.”
His mouth twitches a little before he asks, “What’s your plan? Are you
sending in one of your men to talk to him? To rough him up?”
“Hunter will be going in, yes. We won’t be making contact without the
necessary reinforcements or without having the advantage of being in our
own territory. This is a way to get a lead on Seamus’ whereabouts.”
My uncle stares at me, with his hand to his temple, the smoke from the
cigar between his fingers trailing up toward the ceiling. He’s quiet for a few
moments before his lips curl into a devious smile.
“You’ll send Amelia.”
That was definitely the last thing I expected. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he says, leaning forward again, clearly excited about
his new plan. “You’ll make sure she signs that fucking contract, and then
she’ll be the one to charm their Underboss. I’m not risking any of our men
for this, especially after I told you to wait.”
 So, this is about punishing me for going ahead with a plan he didn’t
approve. I’m trying not to show my shock or frustration as I nod along. He
continues, “She can use her wiles to get you the information you need, and
if it backfires?” The corners of his mouth lifts in a grin, “Well, two birds,
one stone.”
“I’d prefer it if Hunter were going, Uncle. He’s trained for this. He will
not let this important opportunity go by without getting the necessary
information. Why risk it?”
He opens his arms, feigning an innocent smile on his face. “Why not?
We have nothing but time when it comes to the Irish, we might as well have
a little fun with it.” He wants to put me in my place, show me he’s still my
Don, until the moment he decides otherwise.
Fucking fine by me.
“Done,” I say, getting up and refreshing my drink. “I’ll get her to sign
the contract, she’ll be our newest Associate.”
All Associates work under me. Now I’ll be in control of what happens
to Amelia and her friend. And he has no reason to believe that I am treating
them any different than I would another in their position. A small voice in
the back of my head is telling me that this is dangerous, having her this
close to me. The contract was also supposed to keep her away from me, so
that I can go on to do what I need to do for my Family.
He takes a minute to think it over before he smiles at me, leaning
forward to clink his glass against mine. “To our new Associates then.”
Amelia is going to hate me for this, but I warned her to prepare herself.
Romero made up his mind about using her. So, our best chance of getting
through this is to go along with his plan, managing it as best we can.
I hope I just did the right thing.
Just then, Marisol enters the living area. “Excuse me, Mr. Castellano.
Your guests have arrived.” She moves to the side so that Guido Bastone can
make his entrance.
He is dressed in a black tailored suit, his golden signet ring shining on
his finger, as he opens his arms toward us. “Ah, Romero, mio vecchio
amico.” He walks in and kisses my uncle in greeting. They still use the old
way of greeting a fellow Cosa Nostra Don. They have known each other
since they were both Made and worked their way up in their respective
Families.
 “Welcome to my home, Guido. It’s good to meet under such happy
circumstances.” He gestures toward the living area. “Come, come, make
yourself at home. Casa mia é casa tua.”
I walk over to Guido, giving him a firm handshake. “Mr. Bastone.
Welcome.” He looks me over, no doubt trying to intimidate me with his
position. A small smile forms on his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s
good to see you, Neal.”
“Where is your beautiful daughter, Guido?” My uncle asks as he hands
him a drink.
“She should be along shortly, just freshening up.” He moves into the
room and takes a seat. You can feel the power in the room. Having two
Dons in the same space is like a dance, each wanting to lead without it
showing, each trying to advance without stepping on toes.
“I do not see your lovely Carlotta with you, is she off travelling the
world again?” The first advance has been made. It’s known that Guido’s
wife is not a very strong person, she struggles to stomach the life of her
mafioso husband. She is out of the country, or at home during important
functions, always an excuse to exclude herself from the dealings of Cosa
Nostra. A wife should be by her Don’s side, at all times.
Guido chuckles. “No Romero, your Katherine whisked her away as
soon as we stepped through the door.” He takes a sip of his drink. “They’re
probably off discussing the wedding already.”
That’s just fucking great.
Feeling for the burner phone in my pocket, I excuse myself and head
out into the hallway and up the stairs. Amelia should be warned about my
Uncle’s plan. He hasn’t given me much time to prepare her for anything,
this has to go down tomorrow night. It’s not the kind of news you tell
someone over the phone, but if I see her, I know the conversation might go
entirely different. I don’t look up as I take the stairs two at a time, causing
me to bump into someone coming down.
My eyes follow the long, tanned legs up and over a tight black dress,
straight into the face of Arica Bastone. I haven’t seen her since I was a
teenager, and she was a ten-year-old girl running around in her father’s
warehouses. She must be around twenty years old now, and she has grown
into a beautiful young woman. Her jet-black hair is straight and moved over
one shoulder, exposing the other. Arica’s eyes are dark and filled with pure
confidence. She puts her finger underneath my chin and lifts my head,
guiding my gaze toward her own.
“You must be the man I’m supposed to marry,” she says by way of
greeting, smiling flirtatiously while playfully assessing me. She lifts one
eyebrow, while tugging lightly at my collar.
I straighten up, taking the final step to stand on the landing, making me
tower over her. “Arica Bastone.” I didn’t expect to run into her. Thinking
about it now, I should’ve known I would. But my mind was with Amelia.
My hand is still itching to check if she hasn’t contacted me yet.
“I understand you’re the one who wanted this dinner, so you could
formally meet me?” I ask, knowing that she knows who I am. We run in the
same circles, we know of each other, but we haven’t exactly had
conversations with one another. Just the usual pleasantries here and there.
“Yes, Neal. You and I have some catching up to do before I decide
whether or not I’m going to agree to your proposal.” She actually looks
serious about that statement.
Scoffing at her, I respond, “Do you really think you have a choice in the
matter?”
“Are you going to throw me over your shoulder, like some Neanderthal,
if I refuse?” She asks with a glimmer in her eyes. Something about the idea
is obviously appealing to her.
“No, but I’m sure your father will drag you down the aisle himself.” I
move to pass her, but she puts her hand on my chest, attempting to block
my way.
“This wasn’t your idea?” She looks confused and somewhat
disappointed. “You didn’t request this marriage to be arranged?”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but no. I don’t want this marriage, or any
other for that matter.” She thought I requested it. Obviously, her father
doesn’t share his business deals with her. Or the fact that he’s trading her
like a horse to further his own agenda. She takes my hand and drags me into
the nearest available room, one of the many guest rooms in this big house.
“So, what is this about then?” she asks, as she closes the door behind
her. “I thought that since we sort of know each other and you need a wife,
you picked me.”
Wow, seriously? Being the Bastone Princess has clearly gone to her
head.
 Chuckling, I turn away from her. “No Arica. I didn’t pick you. You are a
means to an end.”
She doesn’t answer me, so I turn around to see if she heard me, only to
find her staring at me in shock. This is obviously news to her, and I’ve
popped her little bubble.
She takes a second to compose herself, straightening out creases in her
dress that aren’t there. “Well then, if this is the way it’s going to be...” She
turns to open the door. “Then so be it. See you down there, Mr. Sanders.”
Without another glance, she leaves me alone in the room.
That went well.
Wanting to phone Amelia, I take the phone out of my pocket. But I
know this conversation isn’t going to take two minutes. This a major life
change for her, there will probably be some harsh words, and possibly
another rant. No, she deserves more than a rushed phone call from the
hallway. I’m going to have to get through this fucking dinner first. Irritated
at the whole situation, I shove the phone into my pocket and head back
downstairs.
The living area is empty when I step in, everyone having already moved
to the dining room. I take a deep breath and put my game face on as I move
toward the dining room. Everyone is already seated, and there’s an open
seat next to Arica.
“Neal, we just sat down, please have a seat.” Aunt Katherine gestures to
the open seat next to Arica. I nod and move to take my seat.
As I sit down, Arica says, “I just ran into Neal on the stairs on my way
down.” She looks at me with a devious grin on her face. “And it was such a
pleasure to get reacquainted after all these years.”
“You two make a beautiful couple. The wedding is going to be
absolutely breathtaking,” Carlotta Bastone chimes in. “And remember, I
want grandbabies as soon as possible.”
I choke on my drink at that last part.
For fuck’s sake, we’re not even married and they’ve got her popping out
kids already.
Uncle Romero chuckles at my little incident. “Ah, I see Piccolo is not
quite there yet. I’m sure as soon as the wedding is over and done with, they
will start producing heirs.”
“And not a moment sooner,” Guido Bastone adds. “I’m sure you’ll
respect her virtue until it belongs to you.”
 And there’s the little carrot the fathers like to dangle in front of potential
suitors.
“Of course, sir. I have nothing but respect for your daughter.” Here’s my
chance to extend this engagement. If I can play at his daughter’s reputation,
making it seem like she deserves to be courted before marriage, I can buy a
little more time.
Before I can say anything, Arica reaches over and runs her fingers
through my hair. “I think a beautiful white December wedding would be
amazing, don’t you agree Neal?”
I glance at her, trying to figure out what she’s playing at, trying not to
let the frustration show on my face. She just announced to everyone here
we’ll be married in three months, putting a finite timeline on my plans. As
beautiful as she is, I’d strangle her right here. She’s fucking playing with
fire.
With a forced smile, I lean down and kiss her on the cheek, a clear blush
on her face at the act. “It’ll be lovely, Ric. A Christmas wedding.”
“Ah, just look at you two, already falling in love,” Aunt Katherine
exclaims. “Marisol! Bring a round of champagne for the table. We have a
toast to make.”
Marisol pours a glass for all of us and we raise our glasses as Guido
announces, “To the Bastone’s and the Castellano’s.”
Followed by Uncle Romero. “To the joining of our great Families.”
We all take a sip, and I lift my glass one last time, while looking at
Arica. “To my new bride-to-be, may we have a long and happy life
together.”
Well, this didn’t go as fucking planned.
 Chapter 13
Amelia

I survived the afternoon. Just barely.

Yes, I wasn’t held at knifepoint by the Irish Mob, but having a dress
fitting with my mother was seemingly worse. As I’m sitting on the couch in
the living room, staring out the window, I wish I was at Neal’s place. My
phone is on my lap and I check again to see if there are any messages. I
haven’t contacted him, even though I must’ve started typing a message
about a thousand times. But I don’t know what to say. Nothing can come of
this, only heartache. As if I haven’t had enough of that with Stefan.
The front door opens and closes, I peer over the back of the couch to see
which one of my friends is home. I wasn’t surprised to see who it is, it’s
Friday night after all, so only one of them would be home with me. With a
wave of blonde hair, looking amazing in her couture sheath as always,
Olivia hangs up her coat and bag before walking over to the kitchen. She
gets the water boiling and takes out her tea-for-one cup. Immersed in her
own thoughts, she doesn’t even notice that I’m here.
Clearing my throat, I make my presence known. “Hi, you want to join
me?” I wave my glass of wine at her, hoping she’ll take the bait. “It’s
getting a bit lonely on this couch, all by myself.”
She looks up, shocked at finding out she’s not alone. “I didn’t even see
you, Ames.” She puts on her smile, pouring the hot water and walking over
with her steaming little pot of tea. I pat the seat next to me, and she sits
down without looking at me.
She stirs her tea in silence, dipping the tea bag, watching the hot water
draw the flavor from it before swirling and mixing with it. The corner of her
mouth twitches slightly, but she never gazes up. This is not the Olivia I
know, she is not as loud and outspoken as Liz, but she’s never this quiet and
withdrawn.
“You want to talk about it, honey?” Seeing her like this for the past
week has me worried. We tried to persuade her into a girl’s night out
tonight, but she wouldn’t budge. So, Liz opted to go out instead, leaving me
to a night home alone. Well, not as alone as I thought I would be.
 She looks down and shakes her head a little. “How was the dress fitting
with your mother?” she asks instead.
“You know how things are with me and my mother.” I take a sip of
wine, a big one. “My dress fits fine, but she wanted me there to be a part of
her wedding dress fitting.” Olivia places her hand on my knee, and I
continue, “You know I want to be happy for her. She is my mother. After
all, I’m not a complete monster.”
“Of course, you’re not a monster, Ames. This is a very difficult
situation.” Olivia tries to comfort me, but deep down I feel like one. Like
there’s some dark, ugly part inside of me that feeds these feelings of anger
and frustration.
I stare down at the glass in my hands as I say, “She wants me to go to
therapy.”
The all familiar anger rises up again. It never goes away anymore, it’s
like a constant fire burning inside of me. Some days it’s just embers, resting
and smoldering. Other days it’s a raging inferno, but never nothing.
“She says I have something in me that I need to fix.” Hearing your
mother say something inside of you is broken, like she didn’t play any part
in the breaking of it in the first place, hurts in a way that I can’t explain.
Olivia sighs, trying to find the right thing to say. She’s a lot different
from Liz in that way, who just utters the first thing that pops up into her
mind. Sometimes that’s necessary, but right now, I realize it’s a good thing
Olivia walked through that door instead.
“Amelia.” She starts off carefully, not wanting to overstep or anger me
in any way. “I am always advocating for your mother, because I want you to
have at least one of your parents in your life.” Her gaze meets mine, trying
to assess if she should go further. “If you think you could benefit from it,
then you should go to therapy.”
I want to interrupt her, aware of the outburst looming just beneath the
surface, but she puts her hand up. “Let me finish. It might have been your
mother’s idea, but I wouldn’t want you to do it for her. You don’t even have
to tell her you’re going, if you don’t want to. But just think about it.”
I hate that she’s right. I hate it even more that my mother came up with
the idea and not me. But if it will help me to figure out what’s brewing
inside of me, and how to control it, maybe it’s worth a try.
“You’re right.” I get up, leaving her alone on the couch as I walk to the
kitchen. “I have a lot of issues to work through. Everything with my dad,
this fucked up wedding that’s in a week, my failed relationship… not to
mention the fact that I feel like I can strangle someone to death.” I open the
cupboard and take out another glass while keeping my eyes on her as I say
the next part. “And all this Mafia business...”
Her face falls at the mention of the Mafia. Bingo.
I walk back over to the couch, put the glass in front of her, and pour her
some wine. “Care to share?”
She takes the glass, leaning back into the couch, putting her feet up on
the coffee table in front of her. Her tea-for-one is forgotten as she closes her
eyes with a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.”
Oh God, the feeling is mutual.
“Is this about Hunter?” She hasn’t shared anything about her and
Hunter. Since that first night in Mavericks, we have no idea what has been
going on between the two of them.
“Yes.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Amelia, we’ve known each other
for a long time, and you know how I feel about committed relationships and
waiting for sex until I’m married.”
I nod, knowing that Olivia is not oblivious to sex or any type of sexual
encounter. She has Liz for a roommate and over the years she has always
been a part of our conversations about men. But she has always wanted to
wait for the man that she is going to marry. In a way, I envy her for making
that decision.
“But the moment I met Hunter...” she trails off, shaking her head and
lowering her voice. “I can’t even say it.”
My first instinct is to smile at Olivia’s innocence, but I know my friend
is having a hard time with this, so I kick my insensitivity aside. “Take a big
gulp of wine and say it.”
She takes a big gulp, squeezing her eyes closed, she says, “I have never
met a man who has made me forget all that I am and filled me with wants I
don’t even recognize.”
“Olivia, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” I look at her, willing her to open
her eyes and meet my gaze, but she doesn’t budge. Taking a breath, I come
clean. If not to make her feel better, then for me to actually say it out loud
and talk to someone about it. “I slept with Neal.”
Her eyes fly open at my revelation. “You slept with Neal?”
“I slept with Neal.”
Okay, I think we’ve established I slept with Neal.
 She just looks at me without saying anything before the corner of her
mouth lifts in a small smile. “And?”
“And...” I can’t help the smile on my face. “It was unlike any
experience I’ve ever had before.”
She smiles at me. “I’m happy for you, Amelia. I know Stefan didn’t
give you everything you needed or wanted, even if he was a great guy. I’m
happy that you found what you’re looking for in Neal.”
My heart sinks at her words. I wish it were that simple.
“That’s the thing, he was clear that there can never be anything between
us.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I try to make sense of it. “But
something just fits with Neal. I hardly know him, but...” Sighing, I take
another sip of wine and try again. “I’m not sure how to explain it. I can feel
it with Neal. I just know that we fit together, that we will have a great life
together.”
Olivia pulls her legs up underneath her on the couch. “It’s the strangest
feeling, isn’t it? It’s like that with Hunter. I just know that he is important,
that I have to try with him.” Shaking her head again, as if arguing with
herself, she adds, “But I’m scared.” She looks up at me. “He’s a Capo
Regime in the Mafia, Amelia.”
I drink the last of my wine in one big gulp. “Don’t I fucking know it.” I
peer at her, the war she’s waging with herself so clearly on her face.
“Olivia, it’s a question we have to answer for ourselves. Is what we feel
worth taking a risk for? Or would we be able to go on with our lives,
without ever knowing how this might’ve turned out.”
I know I would never be able to live with myself if I let Neal go.
Olivia gets up and walks over to the kitchen, taking her glass to the
sink.
“You’re right, Amelia.” She nods to herself as she heads to her
bedroom, not before taking her phone out of her purse. “I’m calling it a
night. Thank you for the talk. I really needed it.” She flashes me a small
smile, but it still doesn’t reach her eyes. I really hope she’ll be okay, that
we’ll both be.

∞∞∞
 That night in bed, I think about my conversation with Olivia. I know I’ll
regret it forever if I don’t act on this connection I have with Neal. The fact
that we live in two separate worlds will be a big obstacle, but it doesn’t
have to be. I pick up my phone and start typing a text to send him when the
phone starts vibrating in my hand.
“I didn’t think I’d hear from you again?” I say by way of greeting,
happy that he made contact first.
“Amelia.” His voice is low and rough, and my body remembers hearing
it against my ear, against my skin as he whispered dirty thoughts over my
body. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I’m just getting ready for bed.” A warmth spreads through me, at
the fact that he called me. Can I be any more pathetic. “I’m glad you called,
Neal.”
He’s silent on the other side for a while, before saying, “I’ve been
thinking about you.” His voice comes at a whisper, almost afraid to admit
the truth.
“I’ve been thinking about you too.” I’m smiling at the enormous
understatement of how much he’s been occupying my mind this week.
“Amelia, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
My smile drops, thinking about all the possibilities. Neal phoning with
bad news is significantly different to Stefan phoning with bad news.
“Why? What happened? Is this about the contract?”
“Yes.” He sighs. “I spoke to my uncle and I’m afraid there’s no getting
out of it.”
I can’t believe it. I don’t know what I expected, but I believed that Neal
would get me out of it somehow. I didn’t think he’d let this happen, allow
me to sign my life away to his uncle.
“Amelia, are you still there?” His voice is filled with concern, and all it
does is fuel my anger.
“I’m here.” I take a deep breath, trying to make sense of what he just
said, and what it means for me and my future. Just because I want a
relationship with Neal, doesn’t mean I want to work for his uncle. “You’re
going to have to explain it to me, Neal, right now my mind is coming up
with all kinds of scenarios, and not one of them is good.”
“You’re going to have to sign it. My uncle wants you as an Associate.”
He stays quiet for a few seconds before adding, “and he’s got a job for
you… tomorrow night.”
 What the fuck?
The last time he saw me he said I have no use for me as an Associate.
That I have nothing to offer, except my body. So, what kind of job would I
have to do tomorrow night?
“You’re being serious?” I get up and walk towards the window, looking
out over the city. The city I couldn’t wait to be a part of, studying at one of
the best institutions in the world, being a nurse at one of the best hospitals
in the country. But instead, I’ll be signing a piece of paper to tie me to the
city’s underworld, to Romero Castellano.
“I didn’t want to do this over the phone, but it’s still not safe for me to
show up at your place.”
“So just fucking tell me. I’m not made of glass.” There has to be a way
out of this, and if I have to jump through a few hoops to get my freedom,
then that’s what I’ll do. “Tell me what I have to do to get this shit over and
done with.”
“First, I need you to know that your safety is the most important thing to
me. I won’t let anything happen to you.” The conviction is his voice is
clear, and I believe that he means it. I know Neal won’t let any harm come
to me. But how far will he go to protect me against Romero, his own
Family.
“I know that. But your Family is your first priority, and Romero is part
of that Family.”
“And when you sign that contract, you’ll be a part of my Family too,
my loyalty will be to you too. And your loyalty will be to me.”
I didn’t think of it that way. I just can’t believe that I’ll be part of the
fucking Mafia. Being slightly involved is one thing, but signing a contract
with them is quite another. There’s no way I’m signing anything without
there being something in it for me. I’m not taking this lying down.
“If I have to sign that thing, I have a few requests.” He doesn’t reply
immediately, and it’s obvious that he didn’t expect me to come up with a
few conditions of my own.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll do anything you want me to do,” I say, and I mean it. I will do
whatever it takes. “But Liz will not have to sign anything. I’ll take her part
in this as well. My friends won’t be involved in any Castellano business.”
If there’s a way I can keep Liz and Olivia from implicating themselves
in criminal business, then I sure as hell am going to try. Romero obviously
wants something from me, and if he wants it bad enough, he’ll go for my
suggestion.
“Done. I’m sure there won’t be any problems.” The torment in his voice
is obvious. “Amelia, I only wanted to keep you safe. And in doing so, it
seems I’ve put you in even more danger. My… reaction to you is what’s
making him go after you.”
“Yeah, I figured.” He made that pretty clear that day he came to see me
in Neal’s penthouse. Romero doesn’t like the fact that his nephew picked
me instead of obeying his orders, and this is his payback. “I’ll do it, Neal.”
“I never wanted you to have any part in this.” Anger fills his words, and
I can hear something breaking on the other end of the phone. “This isn’t
your fight.”
It became my fight the moment I locked eyes with you.
“Well, that’s about to change now, isn’t it?” I can’t help the resignation
in my voice. Neal is the Underboss, and his uncle is the Don. It would be
ignorant of me to think that being involved with Neal would mean that I
would never get involved in Family business.
“Tomorrow, we’ll have a meeting.” He’s using his Underboss voice
again, clearly switching gears, business first, everything else second. “I’ll
send you the details.”
“Great.” Leaning my head against the cold window, I wait for his
response. I don’t know if there’s anything left to say. This is definitely not
the conversation I thought we’d be having.
After a few moments of silence, Neal starts to say something. “I…”
He trails off and doesn’t finish his sentence. I’m not going to make any
of this easy for him, so I wait for him to say something, anything.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Amelia.” And with that he ends the call.
Closing my eyes, I hit the glass with my fist before sliding down and
crying. Letting everything out. I don’t know how I got here. I should be
angry at Neal for dragging me into this impossible situation. But mostly I’m
angry at myself for finding out who Neal is, and wanting him in spite of
everything.
Oh God, what is wrong with me?

∞∞∞
 The next morning my head feels heavy, almost like I drank five bottles
of wine. Sleep evaded me last night, since I kept rolling around,
contemplating the job Romero has waiting for me. I can’t fathom what it
could possibly be that he thinks I can do better than any of the men that
work under him. So, my only conclusion is that he expects, or rather hopes,
for me to fail. Erasing me from the equation entirely.
Well, I won’t give him the fucking satisfaction.
I kept going over and over the conversation I had with Neal in my mind,
but there’s no way I misunderstood anything. I’ll be an official Associate of
the Castellano Family. And I’ll be seeing Neal today.
Shit, I need a drink, even though it’s only 7AM. I haven’t heard
anything about the meeting I’m supposed to attend, and I wonder if it’ll be
earlier rather than later. Screw it, cigarette and drink first.
I walk out of my room in search of temporary stress relief. There’s a
clammer in the kitchen, followed by a giggle. I frown, wondering who it
might be. Usually, Liz and Olivia sleep in on weekends. As I round the
corner, Liz is in her underwear shoving a naked man to the floor in a
desperate attempt for me not to see him.
Rolling my eyes at Liz, I say, “What are you trying to hide? You’ve got
sex written all over your face, might as well let your gentleman suitor get
up and enjoy a cup of coffee.” I can’t help the small amount of jealousy
causing me to be snarky. Here I was having a crappy night, and she got to
load up on orgasms.
As the guy rises from behind the counter, bits of Killian de Luca appear,
and my face drops. “What the actual fuck?” I cover my mouth, not
believing I said that out loud. No man has ever made it into Liz’s bed twice.
A chuckle escapes me and she puts her finger up, warning me not to
start with her.
But it’s unavoidable. “Well, well, looks like Killian has a dick with
actual magical powers.”
“Ha ha.” Liz shoves Killian’s bare chest before he can respond to my
comment. “Get your clothes.” Killian walks out from behind the counter,
the self-satisfaction practically dripping from his face as he cups his
manhood in both hands. Running to her room, he gives me a lovely view of
his firm, white ass.
“Killian’s ass on an empty stomach.” I lift one eyebrow. “Not sure if I
was ready for that.”
 “Oh, come on, that ass is delicious.” Liz says, pouring three cups of
coffee, not caring that she is standing in the kitchen in her underwear. She
has an amazing body and has always felt extremely comfortable putting it
on display.
“Obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone back for seconds.” I get
my little dig in, wondering what she is going to say about it. Last time we
asked her about Killian, she made it abundantly clear that she is not going
to see him again.
“Yeah, I ran into him last night.” She walks over, handing me my
coffee, ignoring my jab. “Totally coincidental.” She walks back to the
counter and I’m faced with yet another ass, this one covered in black lace.
“So many asses, so early in the morning.”
She laughs at my comment as she comes back, cigarettes in hand. “And
I can guarantee you’ll see another one before the day is over.”
“You don’t know just how right you are,” I say, figuring that I’ll see
Romero at today’s meeting. I take the cigarettes from her. “You know me
too well.”
Killian comes back, not dressed in his usual black pants and leather
jacket, but rather in Liz’s pink fluffy robe. Laughing at him, I say, “Now
there’s a sight. A man of the Mafia all dressed up in pink.”
Walking over to the counter to get his coffee he retorts, “Hey, I’ll have
you know I’m very secure in my masculinity, that’s why I can wear this
without having it affect my boner.”
Liz looks at him with a serious face. “I told you to get dressed, meaning
you should get your clothes so you can be on your way.”
“No way I’m leaving now, I was offered coffee if I remember
correctly,” Killian answers, letting her comment about him leaving roll off
him. He takes a sip and looks at both of us with a smile on his face. “So,
what are we doing? Are we having a smoke?”
“More than one, actually,” I say as I head toward the door.
“Amelia, when you’re done, we have an errand to run.” I turn around as
Killian sits down on the couch, in a very unfortunate position. I hold my
hand up in an attempt to unsee that image. “Good God, Killian, cover that
thing up.”
Peeking through my fingers, I ask, “What errand?”
“Neal told me to collect you, bright and early.” He doesn’t elaborate,
and I guess it’s because Liz is around. I’m not sure about the rules regarding
my friends and how much they’re allowed to know about this contract and
the job I have to do.
“So last night wasn’t a coincidence?” Liz smacks him behind the head
with the couch pillow.
A smug smile forming on his face, he says, “Nothing is ever a
coincidence with me, doll.”
“Fine, just let me breathe for a second.” Before my life changes
completely.
“Sure, go have a smoke. I’ll see you in a few,” he says, looking at Liz.
“I’m sure I can keep busy.”
I guess the meeting will be earlier rather than later.
 Chapter 14
Neal

I’ve only been ‘engaged’ for one night and already Arica has me
pulling my hair out.
What the fuck is marriage to this woman going to be like?
She has been phoning and texting me non-stop, and I refuse to answer.
My voicemail is full of messages about fucking flower arrangements and
tux measurements. She actually wants me to join her in looking at venues.
She keeps asking when we can meet to go over some wedding details. At
this point, it’s better for her safety to stay away from me. I’m still dismayed
at the little stunt she pulled at dinner. I was supposed to be in control of
when and where a formal proposal was going to happen. She fucked it all
up.
She is probably trying her best to piss me off since I won’t return any of
her calls, because she’s already sending wedding crap to my office. I swear
she’s been hoarding the stuff since she heard we’re to be married, because
there’s no way she could get all of this done in under fourteen hours. I’ve
already thrown out the flowers and the idiot who came in trying to measure
me. This morning they also delivered fifteen small cakes and a shitload of
paper, I’m assuming is supposed to be invitations. My office was supposed
to be the place I could come and think in peace. Now it looks like a fucking
wedding expo.
There’s a knock at my door and I jump up, expecting Killian and
Amelia. Instead, my uncle steps in, with our Consigliere behind him. On
witnessing the display of wedding cake samples and invitations on my
desks, they both let out rumbled laughs.
“Ah, Piccolo, I see Ms. Bastone already has a grip on your balls.” He
continues toward me, giving me a pat on the back, smiling at me. “Don’t
worry, in three short months this wedding will be behind you and you can
move on to bigger things.”
Salvatore walks toward the table, sticking his finger in the wedding
cake and tasting it. I don’t even want the cake, but I don’t want him sticking
his fucking fingers in it. “In my opinion, you should go with the vanilla, it’s
her favorite. You should keep your fiancé happy.”
Is he being fucking serious?
“I’m not marrying the fucking queen, Salvatore. Who cares if she’s
happy?”
Definitely not me.
“Her father cares. He is the one who is in charge of the Iron Pipeline,
and we’re going to need him to take care of the Irish.” He picks up a piece
of cake and takes a bite. “So, keep his Princess happy, so we can have our
weapons.”
“Why don’t you marry her then, Salvatore? Since you’re so keen on
keeping the Bastone’s happy.” I’m fucking seething, my patience is
growing thin and I’m getting tired of this whole ordeal. “You can even suck
Guido’s dick on the side.”
“That’s enough.” My uncle steps between us. “You don’t outrank
Salvatore until you take my place. He will be treated with respect.” A smile
spreads on Salvatore’s face at my uncle’s words and I’d like nothing more
than to wipe that smug grin right off it. I hope he knows that when I’m the
Don, he’s the first one to go.
“We’re here to discuss a few things, including our way into the firearms
business with Guido Bastone.” He walks around my desk and sits down in
my chair. “You know we’ve been trying to get into that business, and we’re
going to be smart about it. I am not going to risk a war with another Family
in New York.” He stares at me before adding, “We can work together and
take out a common enemy.”
Every Family in New York has a piece of the pie. Ours is the biggest
since we’re in charge of drug trafficking. The Bastone Family is in charge
of arms trafficking. Not only the Iron Pipeline, which is the trafficking into
the City, but they also deal on an international level. It was a decision the
Commission made thirty years ago when all the Dons were incarcerated.
This way the Families stay out of each other’s business, which won’t draw
any unwanted attention to the Mafia’s operations. Since 9/11 the
Government has mostly been focusing on terrorist action, but if we draw
any attention to ourselves, that might change.
“What is Bastone getting out of the deal?” I’ve been wondering about
this for a while. I get the daughter, we get the weapons, but what does he
get?
 Romero and Salvatore share a look before Salvatore sits down,
gesturing for me to do the same. I ignore him, waiting for an answer. He
sighs before saying, “We agreed to give him a piece of the drugs.”
“What? Why would you agree to something like that?” The drug
business is worth a lot more than the illegal arms trafficking, so why would
we share it with him, in exchange for less?
Salvatore takes out a cigarette, lights it, and glares at me through his
cloud of smoke. “Think about it, boy.”
Letting Salvatore’s little jab go, it takes me two seconds to understand
the plan. I glance at my uncle, and it’s written all over his face.
I get up and walk over to the bar. As I’m pouring myself a drink, I
compose myself before taking part in a conversation that might mean war
between the Families. A war that has been kept at bay for more than thirty
years.
“You mean to take it from him.” I turn around and take a seat across
from my uncle. The corner of his mouth lifts as he smiles, his eyes
gleaming at the prospect of expanding his business.
“I’ve known Guido a long time, I do not want to go to war with him.”
He takes out his pipe, lighting it and filling the air with the familiar
fragrance of rum and maple. “But it’s in the Family’s best interest that you
marry that girl and get yourself into their Family business. By the end
you’ll be running both the Bastone’s and the Castellano’s.” He opens his
arms, gesturing as he says, “King and Queen of one of the largest Families
of New York.”
“And what about Guido?” I thought they were friends. He welcomed
him into his home, they were Made together, and now he means to take
what he owns. I guess my uncle’s loyalty doesn’t extend to Cosa Nostra, but
stays within the confines of the Castellano Family.
“Guido is letting his daughter marry you. He wants a piece of our
business in exchange for a piece of his own. I’d be stupid not to anticipate
that he is thinking the same way I am. We just have to beat him to it.”
So, they are both going for the same thing.
“What about his son?” Guido has a younger son, Roberto, who’s not
much younger than Arica. “Surely the business will pass to him before it
would pass to me and Arica, or any children we might have.”
“You’re right, he will give it to his son. But I’m sure he means to run
our Family through his daughter, and later through his grandchildren.”
Romero sits back in his chair, gesturing with his pipe. “Sons are not
immortal, Piccolo. They can get hurt on the job.” My gut churns at his last
words, he’ll kill his friend’s son to put me at the Head of their Family.
“And if Guido doesn’t go down easy?” I ask him, I have to think that he
won’t give his Family up without a fight, nobody would.
“Then we’ll take it by force,” he says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the
world. I don’t think he knows it doesn’t work that way. Those soldiers are
loyal to their Don. Why would they turn on him and work for me if I take
the Family by force? I can’t believe my uncle’s view on loyalty is so
distorted.
“So, you want me to marry his daughter, and then use his own weapons
to take over his Family.” I look from him to Salvatore, trying to see if they
realize that their plan is fucking crazy.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little takeover, boy?” Salvatore glares
at me, his lip curling into a smile.
His condescension only fuels my hatred for the man. But I can’t risk
lashing out at him again, his time will come. Ignoring Salvatore, I turn to
my uncle. “And I have to stay married to her, after we screwed over her
father and her brother?”
Romero gets up, pipe in hand, and walks over to the window
overlooking the club. With his back to me, I can see his reflection in the
window when he says, “Piccolo, you’re in an extremely fortunate position. I
consider you my son, and I want to leave you with a legacy that will be
remembered by all. By doing this you would be the Don of the largest
Family in the United States, the Irish will be wiped out and you’ll be ruling
the city.” He turns toward me. “And you’ll even be in a position to take
over the other three Families if you should wish it.”
He walks toward me, placing his hand on my shoulder, his signet ring in
my peripheral vision. “I know that your father would have wanted this
future for you. I will not leave you alone in this. I’ll be here every step of
the way.” He smiles at me before adding, “A guiding hand, if you will.”
And there it is.
“Of course, you will, Uncle.” I was wondering why he would set this all
up for me if he isn’t somehow benefitting from it as well. I guess he is not
really stepping down as Don of the Family. He’ll be the Don and I’ll be his
front man. He needs me to marry Arica for his plan to move forward. And
he is hoping to still play puppet master from behind the scenes.
 But I’m nobody’s fucking puppet.
Talking against his plans now will get me nowhere. The only way I can
stop him from fucking up La Cosa Nostra and everything we stand for is to
go along with him. I get up and walk over to the table with the wedding
cake and take a bite out of one of the samples. “I think I like the red velvet
better.”
My uncle and Salvatore both smile at me, assuming I’m on board.
Romero claps his hands together as he smiles at the both of us. “Then we
need to talk about this proposal. You have to make it public, Piccolo. The
underworld needs to see their new King and Queen.”
Salvatore takes out a small box from his jacket pocket. He opens it and
holds it out to me. On the blue velvet cushion sits a ridiculously big
diamond engagement ring.
“This is the ring you’ll propose with. There’s an event in two weeks,
representatives from all five Families will be in attendance.” He places the
ring in my hands. “You’ll propose then.”
“You have a week to get your shit together, Piccolo.” They pick up their
coats and head for the door. “Enjoy this time, because in three months... we
begin.” And with that, he shuts the door.

∞∞∞

I texted Killian to meet us in one of the board rooms for our meeting
with Amelia. I don’t want her around all the wedding shit, not before I’ve
had the chance to explain it to her. Not that I know that I should even give
her an explanation. She knows that we can’t be together, but fuck me. It
feels like I’m betraying her somehow.
Getting my jacket from my chair and the contract from the drawer, I
move toward the door to find Hunter already on the other side, ready to
knock.
“We’re not having the meeting here?” I can understand the frown
between his eyes, since we always meet in my office.
“No.” I walk past him, down the hallway toward the boardroom. He's
still standing in front of my door, shocked at the change. “You’re falling
behind, catch up.”
 Hunter rushes to my side, looking over his shoulder to my closed office
door. “What’s with the change of venue? Did you leave a body in there?”
“I fucking wish.” I run a hand through my hair. “It looks like a wedding
planner threw up in there.” Feeling slightly embarrassed at my predicament,
I add, “I don’t want Amelia to see it.”
He whistles through his teeth. “So, you’re not telling her you’re
engaged then?”
“I will.” I guess that’s decided then. “But not like this. She doesn’t need
another ambush. She’s been through enough because of me. Besides, I don’t
want to send her to the club tonight with anything but the job on her mind.”
“Understandable.” he says as we enter the boardroom, switching on all
the lights, revealing the large table and chairs in the center. I take a seat at
the head of the table and take out a cigarette. I’ve been smoking a lot lately,
a lot more than usual. Instead of lighting it, I roll it between my fingers.
“Hunter, we need to discuss something before she gets here.”
He takes a seat at the table, resting his elbows on the table as he leans
toward me, razor focused.
“You realize the fact that Romero wants her to go means that he’s
hoping something will happen to her. He’s not even being coy about it. We
never send our women to do our dirty work.” The women in the Family
have other responsibilities, the men in the Family deal with the business and
the violence. We don’t let them get their hands dirty, we protect them from
that side of the business.
He looks down at his hands. “Yeah, I kind of figured he’s got an ulterior
motive by sending her into this. This isn’t the time to be fucking around,
and now he wants me to take someone who doesn’t know anything about
our world or how it works.”
“This will make your job more difficult,” I say, looking him in the eye
and making sure he understands me perfectly. “Because I don’t intend on
anything happening to her. If it means we lose our lead, then so be it.” I’m
shocked at my own words as they leave my mouth. I have been on a
vengeful path ever since I can remember, but I’m not going to risk Amelia’s
life on my need for revenge. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly, Boss.”
There’s a quick rap on the door before Killian and Amelia step in. The
tight jeans she’s wearing puts her legs on perfect display, making it very
hard not to remember how they felt wrapped around me. Her gaze meets
mine as I keep rolling the cigarette between my fingers, my eyes not
leaving hers, as I’m itching to put it in my mouth. To put something in my
mouth. A small blush creeps up her neck as her gaze drops to the floor, and
I can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking about our night together, too. How
it feels to have me buried inside of her.
“Ahem...” Killian clears his throat. “Are we going to start or are you
two-”
“Don’t even finish that fucking sentence.” I growl in his direction.
His eyebrows rise as he says, “Okay.” Drawing it out, my patience with
it, as he closes the door behind them and gestures for Amelia to take a seat.
She ignores the seat he suggests, which is next to me, and instead takes up
the chair at the other end of the table. A flicker of irritation runs through me
at her dismissal, but it’s probably better this way. Having her this close, and
not being able to do anything about it, is driving me insane.
“So…” Hunter says, next to me. “We have a job to do tonight.” He
looks over to Amelia. “And I hear you’re the newest additions to the team.”
“First things first.” Not really trusting myself to get too close to her
without touching her, I slide the contract across the table until it comes to a
stop in front of Amelia. “You have to sign the contract.”
I feel like absolute shit that I was not able to get her out of this. But if
there’s one thing that I’ve learned, it’s that it’s better to go along with
Romero’s plans and wait for the opportune moment to get out. If you fight
him from the very beginning, he’ll squeeze the life from you that much
quicker.
Killian walks toward her and hands her a pen with a ridiculous smile on
his face. She takes it from him and signs the papers without any hesitation. I
don’t know whether or not to be elated that she’s bound to me from now on,
or to be frustrated that she’s signed her life over to one involving torment
and death without a second thought.
“Done.” She slaps the pen down on the table, sliding the contract back
toward me. “So, tell me, what’s the job? What am I doing?” Her blue-green
eyes bore into mine, trying to show determination, but from over here it
looks a lot like stubbornness.
“Let me make something clear right now.” I keep rolling the cigarette
between my fingers. Some of the tobacco has fallen out and is scattered on
the table in front of me. “You’re not doing anything. This is Hunter’s job.”
 Her lips narrow as her eyebrows draw together. “Why the fuck am I
here then, Neal? I thought Romero wanted me to do this?”
“I’m not putting you in danger, Amelia.” The agitation is burning
through me. I’m pissed that we’re in this situation in the first place. Having
her here, thinking about her having to go anywhere near my biggest enemy,
it’s not going to fucking fly. “You have no business going into enemy
territory to gather information. Hunter will do it. You’ll go along and stay
out of sight.”
“Like hell I am.” She lashes back.
Killian chuckles and I whip my head toward him. He’s leaning back in
his chair, puffing on a cigarette, looking like he’s enjoying a tennis match.
“You go girl.”
“Killian, if you’re not going to be helpful, you can fuck off.”
He puts up his hands in mock surrender. “If it’s my help you want, Boss,
by all means.” He rubs a hand over his jaw, attempting and failing to hide
his amusement.
“Amelia is a beautiful woman,” he says, my blood starting to boil at the
fact that he dares mention her beauty. “And as such she has certain ways to
charm information from gentlemen that our dear Hunter does not.”
I crumple up the near empty cigarette in my fist at the suggestion he’s
making. Today is the day I kill Killian. “I suggest you leave now, de Luca.”
Amelia scoffing at the end of the table pulls my attention. “I told you
I’ll do whatever you need done. You need me to seduce someone? Done.”
She looks over at Hunter. “So what time are we leaving?”
My fist comes down on the table, causing her to jump in her seat.
“There’s no fucking way I’m allowing this.”
“You just made me sign a contract, Neal.” She rises from her chair and
rests her hands on the table in front of her. This just accentuates her
cleavage more. I close my eyes and look away, because I swear to God if
she keeps pushing me, I’ll take her on this table. To hell with the contracts,
the deals and the traditions. “I’m an Associate of the Family now, so you
have to treat me as such.”
My teeth grind as I force myself to look her in the eyes. “If you want to
be treated like a fucking Associate, Amelia, then you will treat me as your
Capo. And as your Capo, I’m telling you to stand the fuck down.”
Hunter gets up next to me. “This is getting us nowhere.” He tosses a
pack of cigarettes at me. “Smoke one, you need to calm down.”
 Glaring at him, I open the pack, take one and light it. Usually the
calming effect helps immediately, but I’m too riled up to feel any difference
right now. Twirling the pack between my fingers as I inhale, I look at
Amelia as I blow out the smoke. “Are you going to follow orders, or am I
going to have to go with you to make sure you behave?”
She holds my gaze, not daring to look away, her stubborn, head strong
personality shining through. “I always behave, Neal.”
Those words cause my mind to flood with images of exactly the
opposite. Of her open and ready for me, spread on my bed, her skin flushed
as she ran a finger between her thighs, her moans and cries of pleasure
filling my room as I took her over and over again.
“Right.” Hunter claps his hands together. Trying to get us back to why
we’re here in the first place. It’s not that easy though. If I could switch off
all the thoughts and images about Amelia’s naked body, I would have.
I think.
“The target is Flynn. He’s the Underboss of the Irish Mob.” He looks at
Amelia. “You might remember them from Zenith.” She shifts around in her
seat, and I hate the fact that I’m the reason she’s being placed in harm’s way
again.
“Our only goal is to get a lead.” I run my free hand through my hair. “I
just need more names, an address, anything that can lead us to Seamus.”
My goal changed a bit, but Amelia does not need to know that.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“The club’s name is Éira,” Killian responds with a coy smile. “If you
liked Mavericks, you ought to be fine.” A small blush creeps up her throat,
and jealousy starts to stir again.
How am I going to get through the night knowing Amelia is in a short
dress, in a strip club, seducing Flynn for information. Because there’s no
way she’s staying out of sight. All while I sit back at the office, hoping
nothing will happen to her?
There’s no fucking way.
 Chapter 15
Amelia

Staring at my closet, I’m coming to the conclusion that I might just be

a prude. I don’t own any dresses or outfits that will make a man spill his
life’s secrets in the hope of getting me in bed. So much for committing
myself to seduce someone.
There’s only one person who can help me with this.
Tip-toeing across the apartment, with my towel wrapped around my
body, my hair still dripping wet, I knock on Liz’s bedroom door.
“You’re only allowed in if you have wine!” Her voice booms through
the door. So I head back to the kitchen and grab a bottle and two glasses.
She opens the door, and frowns as she takes in the sight in front of her.
“Who’s washing those?”
Rolling my eyes, I take the glasses back to the kitchen and come back
with another bottle of wine instead. Her face lights up. “Now that’s more
like it.” She moves to the side and makes a sweeping gesture with her arms
to let me into her room. “You may enter.”
She takes one of the bottles and hops onto her bed, sitting cross-legged and
flashing her bright red underwear at me. I guess I should be thankful that
she’s wearing any.
“What can I do for you in all your naked glory?”
“I need your help.” I take a sip of wine from my own bottle before I
continue, “I’m doing a favor for Neal tonight… with Hunter, for Neal.”
He told me I can share some of the details with Liz, but I should keep in
mind that the less she knows, the safer it is for her. So, I’m keeping it to the
bare minimum, not mentioning anything about the Irish Mob.
Her eyes narrow as she stares at me, confusion written all over her face.
“Uh, yeah. I’m going to need more than that, babe.” She takes another swig
of wine. “What favor?”
“I have to meet a guy at a strip club.”
That sounds vague enough, right?
“They want me to keep him busy, while they talk to some people. So, I
need you to dress me. I don’t think my jeans and sweaters are going to cut it
for this particular favor.” I figure switching the topic to my fashion sense
should divert her from the Neal topic.
“You’re telling me you need to slut up.” She nods as she gets up and
moves over to her closet. Her entire room is in disarray and it’s a wonder
she can find anything in here. Her bed isn’t made, and her closet doors are
all open as their contents threaten to spill out. Liz has never been one to
color code and organize, like Olivia, but basic folding is seemingly also too
much for her.
She rifles through her closet, mumbling at the choices. “I’ve got some
options for you…” As she pulls out the choices, she tosses them over her
shoulder toward the bed. Judging by the lack of material, I know that my
comfort level is going to be below zero, so I take another sip of my liquid
courage, hoping to calm my nerves.
Inside that meeting with Neal, I acted tough, not wanting them to think
I’m not up for the challenge. But truth be told, my nerves are shot. I’ve
never done anything like this, but I did not want Neal to think I’m useless.
I’m an Associate now, and I can’t get out of this contract if I don’t prove
useful in some way. And a small part of me wants to show him that I can
live in his world, even if it’s just a small piece of it.
Liz walks over to the bed and goes through the dresses she chose.
“Black is always sexy, but I’m wondering if maybe you should go with
this…” She picks up a shiny piece of fabric. It’s shimmering with colors of
cream and light pink. But I can’t see any indication that this is something
other than a square of fabric. It doesn’t even have straps. Taking it from her,
I hold it up and stare at the sweetheart neckline with a slight plunge.
“Um… I don’t think I have underwear that goes with this.”
She lets out a chuckle. “Oh honey, if you think you’re doing this with
underwear, you’re in for a hell of surprise.”
I can’t help the shocked expression on my face. “So, I’ll be wearing
this...” I hold up the tiny dress, “and there’ll be nothing underneath.” She
nods along as I come to terms with my outfit choice for the night.
“Think of it this way.” She takes another swig of her wine before
continuing, “No man will be able to keep his eyes off you for even a second
with you wearing that.”
“Right, I guess that’s the goal of the evening.” Distract Flynn so that
Hunter can ask around, and if I play my cards right, I can get some
information from him, too. I’ll be able to prove to Neal that I’m more than a
weekend lay and a possible liability.
She steps forward and removes my towel. Her eyes move over my body,
like she’s analyzing a blank canvas. “At least everything is trimmed and
ready to go.” I snatch the towel from her grip and attempt to hide from her
inspecting eyes.
Oh God, kill me now.
“Now, slut up, so I can see how it looks.”
As I pull the dress on, she fires with a question I tried to evade. “What’s
going on with you and Neal?” As the dress slips over my head, she’s
standing in front of me with one hand on her hip and the other holding her
bottle of wine. “I know there’s something there, so spill.”
I’ve already had this conversation with Olivia, but I haven’t exactly
shared everything with Liz. The possibility of her ugly truth is looming over
me like a dark cloud. But I guess I have to hear it, otherwise how the hell
am I going to deal with this mess of emotions swirling around inside of me.
“I slept with him,” I say, figuring I can get the big thing out of the way
first and work from there. However, she doesn’t seem surprised in the least
by my proclamation.
She shrugs. “I figured. You should’ve seen the two of you at Zenith.
The chemistry was hot as fuck, I swear you almost burned down the
building.” She gestures toward her dresser with the bottle of wine. “Sit
down, I’ll give you a smokey eye that will make those eyes of yours pop.”
She smacks her lips on the ‘p’ sound before she takes another big gulp of
wine.
Taking a seat, I’m very aware of the fact that the already short dress just
became a few inches shorter. I cross my legs as an experiment.
Yup, that’s my ass hanging out.
Liz bends over and gives my ass a little slap. “That right there is your
secret weapon, babe. Keep your legs straight until it’s time to pull out the
big guns.”
My eyes widen at her bluntness. I know she was born without a filter,
but tonight she’s going the extra mile for some reason.
“Are you okay?” I notice that the bottle of wine that she set down on the
dresser is empty already. “Are you staying in tonight?”
“Nope, I have plans.” Not meeting my eyes, she grabs at random make-
up brushes and eye shadows, searching for the right color. “Don’t change
the subject, I want to know what’s going on with you and the Underboss.”
I haven’t even been part of Neal’s Family for more than a day, and
already everything feels complicated beyond comparison. I don’t want to
drag my friends into anything dangerous. That night at Zenith is not
something I want to ever happen again.
Although it seems that it might be out of my control. Liz has already
broken her vow to never sleep with the same man twice. So obviously
something is happening between her and Killian, whether she wants to
admit it or not. Not to mention Olivia, who has fallen down the rabbit hole
of being enamored by a dangerous man.
At least I’m not the only one.
“There’s nothing to tell.” I’m thankful that my eyes are closed, so she
can’t see the lie in them. “We had our time together, and it was made clear
that there can’t be anything more after it.” Thinking about having Neal
between my legs, me on my knees in front of him, and all the shivers of
pleasure he repeatedly sent through my body, is making me squeeze my
thighs. A flame is licking at my skin at the thought of his naked, powerful
body, causing me to heat up all over.
Shit, I can’t think about Neal when I’m not wearing any underwear.
“For what it’s worth,” she says, pulling my attention back to her as she
applies my eyeliner. “I don’t think it’s over between the two of you. This
might just be the beginning.”
I can’t help but scoff at her. “Sure, thing. Let’s force the Underboss of
the Castellano Crime Family into wanting to be with me.”
I don’t think Neal has been forced to do anything in his entire life. He’s
the enforcer, the one in control. I doubt that anyone can tell him what he has
to do. Which means his decision to not pursue me is his own entirely.
She steps back, admiring her artwork. “Right, now the hair.”
She grabs a few different brushes and starts pulling and tugging at my
hair. I swear I’ve never made this much effort with my appearance before,
so it feels kind of strange to go through all this for a strip club. Glancing up
at her, it’s hard not to admire her. Liz has always been blessed with
effortless beauty. She could just put on a pair of heels and some lipstick and
still bring someone home tonight. Though, tonight there’s something else in
her eyes, something I can’t quite place.
She smiles at me when she’s done and sets down all of her tools. “Well,
if he sees you tonight, he wouldn’t need any forcing.” She spins me around,
and I’m shocked at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes look fiercely green
against the black and grey make-up and my dark hair flows in rough, loose
curls around my bare shoulders. My shimmering dress lifts and presses my
breasts in all the right places.
She winks at me in the mirror. “He’ll come willingly.”

∞∞∞

Sitting next to Hunter in the car, I’m aware of the dress riding up.
Luckily, he keeps his eyes on the road, not so much as glancing in my
direction. It’s a bit of a drive to get to the club, and after sitting in awkward
silence for a while, I decide to break the ice and get something off my chest.
“So… you and Olivia.” At the mention of her name, he visibly tenses
next to me. I’ve already touched a nerve and I haven’t even asked him
anything. His jaw is tight, a muscle twitching in his neck.
“What about it?” His voice is low and rough, so unlike the Hunter I’ve
come to know the few times we’ve been in each other’s company. And for
the first time since I’ve met him, the Made Man emerges. It makes me
wonder if Olivia has seen him like this. Thinking about her meeting the
monster beneath the man sends a shiver down my spine. Just because I
flirted with death doesn’t mean I want her to.
“She is one of the most innocent people I know.”
His face softens slightly at the mention of her innocence. I don’t know
what he knows. Their relationship and exchanges are a mystery to us, but
it’s not hard to see that Olivia is made up of purity and goodness. “If you
hurt her, you’ll no longer be Hunter...” I turn to him as he faces me, his dark
eyes narrowing. “But hunted.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. His knuckles turn white as he grips the
steering wheel, and silence fills the car once more. After a little while, we
stop in front of the club. People are lining up in the streets to get in and
there’s a bouncer at the door controlling the crowd. My heart is pounding in
my chest as I take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself.
I can’t fuck this up.
Before I get out, he locks the doors on me. “What are you doing?” I ask,
turning toward him with a frown on my face.
 “You’ve said your piece on Olivia.” He reaches into his jacket and takes
out a small earpiece and hands it to me. “Now you listen.”
“This is important to the Boss. He might be willing to let the lead go,
for your safety, but I am not going to let him fall into the chaos the Don has
planned for him.” He takes out a gun and the weight of the situation hits me
in the chest. “I am his Capo Regime, his Second in Command, so I will do
what is needed.”
My mouth is suddenly dry. I don’t know why I thought this was just a
club night, a quick job, in and out. Swallowing heavy at my naivety I glance
up at him. “I’ll do what is needed too, Hunter. All I ask is that you don’t
underestimate me or my capabilities.”
“Fair enough.” He checks his gun and hides it away beneath his jacket
again. “But I am the Capo here and you are the Associate. So, listen when I
talk, do what I say, and we might make it out of here without any
complications.” He opens the door and gets out of the car, and I follow his
lead.
We get into the club without a hitch after Hunter says something to the
bouncer, who gives me a once over, and his eyes rest on my bare legs a
second longer than necessary. Liz’s dress choice is already starting to pay
off.
As we head in, we’re hit by deafening music and flashing lights. There’s
a slight tinge of smoke in the air, and it’s making me wish I had my own
cigarette right now. To calm my nerves and to keep my hands from tugging
on my dress. The club is not nearly as upper class as Mavericks and there’s
a sense of debauchery in the air. I lean to the side to ask Hunter where we’re
going first, but he’s no longer there. My eyes flit across the club,
desperately trying to find him.
‘Stop looking so nervous.’ Hunter’s voice buzzes in my ear and I
remember about the earpiece he had given me in the car. ‘Flynn is at the
bar.’ I don’t even know if he will hear me if I talk, but I’m sure he’s
keeping an eye on me nonetheless.
It’s not hard to spot Flynn as my eyes roam over the bar. Something
about him reminds me of Neal. It’s hard not to notice him, as he seems to
draw attention to himself with every move he makes. He clearly owns the
room as he exudes a certain confidence I’ve come to attribute to the men of
the Mafia. I guess it’s not hard to be confident when you know that you can
have anything at the click of your gun.
 Flynn is big and muscled. He looks more brutish than the suit-wearing
mafia men I’ve come across the last couple of weeks. Though I have a
feeling the monsters lurking beneath the exterior tend to be the same. I’ve
seen Neal with his suit covered in blood and I have no doubt these men’s
hands are just as stained. Flynn’s hair is short and light, and he’s got tattoos
peeking from his shirt. He’s laughing at something his friend says in his ear
when he spots me.
Here goes nothing.
I head over to the bar, not looking at him, but instead keeping my eyes
on the attractive bartender. Taking a seat at the bar, I can sense his intense
gaze on my body. The bartender hasn’t gotten to me yet, and my stomach is
whirling from anxiety. A drink would help settle the nerves inside of me,
and might just add some courage, so I raise my hand to call the bartender. A
tattoo covered hand closes around mine in the air, gently pulling it down as
he lifts his own.
“Let me.” A rough voice brushes my ear as he takes the liberty of
getting me a drink. I have no idea what he ordered, but he just lifted two
fingers and the bartender sprang into action. As the bartender sets down two
shot glasses of clear liquid in front of us, Flynn takes out his lighter and
lights them, causing beautiful blue flames to dance around on top of the
alcohol.
He hands a glass to me and I turn to see him lifting his to my mouth.
I’m caught by the handsomely rugged man in front of me. “Care to do the
honors?”
Not breaking eye contact, I blow out the flame on his drink, and he
takes the shot. He leans in and blows on mine, then watches me drink it.
The vodka is like a searing flame down my throat and nestles in a warm
pool in my stomach.
“Do you usually blow on strangers?” His eyes are gleaming at the
double meaning of his question.
“You’re lucky you’re so handsome.” Pretending to blush, I peer down
and the gun at his side catches my eye. Not an hour has passed and already
I’ve seen two weapons. I’m willing to bet good money that there is more
hidden somewhere beneath his clothes. “I don’t let just anyone get away
with questions like that.”
“Playing hard to get, are we?” He flashes a smile and a little dimple
forms in the corner of his cheek. I’m certain it’s the one he reserves for all
his one-night stand candidates and that he usually entraps them with his
little dimple.
“Not playing.” I get up, pretending to leave when he catches my wrist.
His skin is as searing as the vodka as his grip tightens around me.
“Tell me your name.” He pulls me back toward him as he looks down,
his eyes roaming my body.
“Do you think you’ve earned it, somehow?”
“Definitely.” His confident smile doesn’t falter.
Pretending to give it some thought, I say, “I’ll make you a deal.” I take
my seat again, and I’m aware of my dress inching up. His eyes catch my
exposed thighs and with a dark glint in his eyes, he sits down and gestures
for me to continue.
“Question for a question. Only five. If you can convince me, you’re a
decent enough guy…” I reach over his lap and lightly tap on his gun. His
smile, however, doesn’t waver at the contact. Leaning further over him to
whisper in his ear, I make sure my body brushes against his. “I’ll blow
whatever you want me to blow.”
“You’re on.” He lifts his fingers again and the bartender lines a few
shots on the counter. “And if someone is suspected of bullshit, they have to
take a shot.” He is emanating excitement, and it’s clear that I better get my
shit together. Because if I have to drink all of those shots, I’m not sure how
useful I’m going to be.
“Let’s start with an easy one.” I make sure my knees brush against his
legs and his gaze is pulled down once more, his confident smile turning into
a predatory one.
“If you’re so decent, why walk around with a gun? Are you planning on
killing the ladies with more than just your charm?” His gaze darkens
slightly at the question, but he answers nonetheless.
“It’s for protection of course,” he says, like it’s the most obvious
answer. “The world is a dangerous place.” His gaze glides down my body
again. “Especially for beautiful women like yourself.”
Narrowing my gaze at him, I pick up a shot and hand it to him. “I call
bullshit.”
He lets out a rough rumble of laughter. “And why’s that?”
“You don’t look like someone who’s afraid of danger.”
“Touché.” He nods and takes the shot, setting the glass back on the
counter. “My turn. Tell me. What has to happen for you to go home with me
tonight?”
I’m taken aback by the bluntness of his question. I expected him to ask
for my name or something. And it’s not an easy question to answer, since
there is nothing on this earth that will make me go home with him. Tonight,
or any other night.
Letting out a soft breath, I cross my legs, hoping the sight of my bare
skin would distract him long enough to just maybe drop something. “Oh, a
few things, I guess.”
His eyes are glued to my bare ass as he leans forward a bit more.
Leaning in, I trace a line along his chest toward his stomach. His voice
comes out low and rough, as he responds, “Like what?”
“Would you take me home? Let me see who you really are?” I hope he
doesn’t suspect anything but watching his face I can see that he’s
considering it.
‘Careful.’ Hunter’s voice in my ear catches me off guard, and my eyes
widen in shock for a moment. But luckily, Flynn’s too distracted to notice.
“I don’t think you’d survive my family, doll.” His fingers lightly brush
my knees, as if he’s testing my reaction.
I lean into his touch a little before asking, “And why’s that?”
He places his hand on my knee, moving it slightly upward as he lifts his
gaze to me. His dark eyes softened a bit, but it soon passes, replaced by
steel determination.
“Losing family members leaves a mark. It leaves vengeance where there
should be love. You’d be stepping into a ring of wolves.” The corner of his
mouth lifts a little and his little dimple appears again. “And we’ve been
hungry for a while now.”
My pulse is racing, and I can’t help but feel a little out of my depth. But
there’s no way I’m backing down now as his hand moves a little bit higher
up my thigh.
‘That’s enough Amelia.’
Neal’s voice is gravelly and insistent in my ear. I peer down to not give
anything away. I haven’t even gotten started yet, there’s a lot more I can get
from Flynn if I just go with this. And helping Neal is the most important
thing, just like Hunter said.
“Bullshit.” I challenge him with my eyes and hand him another shot.
“You don’t seem nearly hungry enough to me.”
‘Amelia.’ Neal’s voice comes out in a warning tone.
 Ignoring him, I take Flynn’s hand and move it upwards further. “You
shouldn’t underestimate me and what I can handle.” My words meant for
both Neal and Flynn. He leans in further, his breath against my skin, and I
think he’s about to kiss me when he places his mouth next to my ear. My
heart is pounding out of my chest at the thought that he might realize I’m
wearing an earpiece.
His lips brush the shell of my ear as he says, “Come home with me and
find out.”
My breath catches as I consider my answer. I could go and get the
information they so desperately need. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll be
enough for Romero to consider letting me go. But before I can even think of
responding, a shot goes off and people start screaming. Flynn is up and his
weapon drawn in less than a second. My breath catches as I hear Neal’s
angry voice in my ear.
‘Leave. Now.’
Flynn is busy giving orders to the men around him, and I make my way
into the chaotic crowd before he turns back and realizes that I’m gone.
Weaving through all the panicked people, I keep throwing glances back
over my shoulder, making sure Flynn or any of his friends aren’t following
me outside. I have no idea where Hunter is, and I figure I should meet him
back at the car. Turning around to do just that, I collide with a rock hard
body.
The large, calloused hands that grip my arms are so familiar. The smell
of smoke and Scotch fills my senses, causing the flurries of anxiety in my
stomach to settle for the first time tonight.
 Chapter 16
Neal

She pushed too far.

The anger is coursing through my veins, like white hot flames licking
and pressing, begging for an out. I shouldn’t have allowed her to go with
Hunter. She didn’t know I was listening in on her conversation, but by the
sound of it, she was practically climbing into his lap. Dry humping him in
public. My fucking enemy. The one that’s going to get a bullet through his
head if he ever so much as looks her way again.
She’s hurrying through the crowd, constantly looking over her shoulder,
as everyone pours out of the club. Whether she’s looking for Hunter or
Flynn, I do not know. Neither one is preferable right now. She’s so
distracted by the fact that someone might be following her, she doesn’t
notice me moving toward her.
She’s really not good at this.
She walks straight into my chest, and I grab her by the arms to steady
her. Having her body this close to mine is bringing up images of her on top
of me, spread out in front of me, the taste of her skin permanently burned
into my soul. Gripping her arms, like I did the first night we met, I pull her
toward me.
“You should really watch where you’re going.”
Her body relaxes into mine, but I don’t give her a chance to get too
comfortable as I pull her towards my car that’s parked around the corner. I
shoot Hunter a text, telling him I’ve got Amelia before I open the door for
her to get in.
Moving through traffic, at a speed that’s far more than the limit, I keep
my hands gripped on the steering wheel. I’m still seething about what
happened. Not just the fact that she went out there, acting the way she did.
But that she would put herself in a dangerous situation for me and my
Family. And what have we done for her? I want to kill Romero for making
me do this, I want to kill Flynn for touching what’s mine, and right now, I
want to take her to my place and show her that she belongs to me.
But she doesn’t belong to me.
 That little fact is eating away at me. I’ve never wanted to get to know a
woman before. Frankly, I don’t have much interest in anything other than
what they offer in the bedroom. I’m focused on my job, my Family, my way
of life. That was until Amelia came along. Now I’m constantly consumed
by thoughts of her. I want to know everything about her. I want to own
every part of her.
“If you’re not careful, you’re going to rip that thing right off.”
I look at her, confused at what she’s referring to. She eyes the steering
wheel, and my white knuckles gripping it.
“We got away, you can relax now.”
I give her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Yeah, you blew your top and took me out of
the game before I could get anything that’s worth something. So, I don’t see
the need for all this.” She gestures to my general area.
“First of all, all this,” I mimic the same gesture she just used, “is
because you disobeyed direct orders. I don’t recall telling you to fuck Flynn
for information.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off. “Second of all, if you
think this is over, you’re sorely mistaken. This is only the beginning. And
the only thing you’ve managed to do tonight is put yourself on Flynn’s
radar.” I rub my hand over my face in pure frustration. “Now, not only do I
have to keep you safe from my uncle, but from my cousin as well.”
“Your cousin?” Her eyebrows are drawn together as she looks at me, not
believing what I just said. Now she knows how fucked up this situation is.
“I told you to stay out of sight, Amelia.” I slam my fist on the steering
wheel. “Why the fuck did you not follow orders?”
She hesitates for a moment before answering. “I wanted to help you. It
seemed important. I didn’t want to fail on my first job and give Romero
another reason to come after me.” Her voice is soft but determined. She will
not concede, she will not admit that she disobeyed my orders.
She’s holding something back. I can see it in her face, and it’s ticking
me off. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not the one who’s lying here, Neal.” She turns in her seat, facing
me and pointing her finger at me. “You’re the one who didn’t share all the
information. If you’d just been open and honest with me, I wouldn’t have
gone so far.”
 There’s a lot of things I’m not open and honest about, but that’s because
it’s not her place to know. Not yet anyway. “It’s not your place to know
more than you’re told, Amelia.”
“Excuse me.” Her eyes grow wide as she stares at me.
“You fucking heard me.” I don’t have to explain myself to her. I’m the
Boss and she’s the Associate. I’m also the man that wants everything she
has to offer and can’t have it.
She sits back in her seat and stares out the window. Her foot is tapping
on the floor of the car and I can see every muscle in her long, toned leg as
she moves it in irritation. Then she crosses her legs and I’m faced with the
sight of a creamy thigh and the underside of her ass.
“Where the fuck is your underwear, Amelia?” I growl at her, trying to
ignore the blood rushing straight to my groin.
She looks down at her exposed thigh, like she doesn’t know that she’s
not wearing anything underneath her already skimpy dress. “Oh my, Flynn
must’ve taken it off without me even realizing.”
The irrational anger is burning through me again, and it’s obvious she’s
just trying to bait me. Unfortunately, it’s working. “Amelia, I swear to God,
you should not be pushing me right now.”
“Or what?” She smirks, daring me.
I force my eyes back to the road as I pull into the private garage at my
penthouse. I get out of the car without saying a word to her. She just stares
at me, watching me closely as I round the car to open her door.
“What are you doing?” she asks, as I pull her out of the car and throw
her over my shoulder. The tiny piece of fabric she deems a dress shifts up
again and the entire underside of her ass is exposed. I continue toward the
elevator, giving her ass a hard slap as she pounds her fists into my back.
“Let me go, asshole.”
“This is on you, Amelia.” She tries to squirm free of my grip, but there’s
no way I’m letting her go now. “Now stay still, or I’ll drop you on the
floor.”
She goes still for a second. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” I don’t think I’ll actually drop her, but right now I’m a ball of
anger, frustration and irritation all wrapped up in lust and unbearable desire
for the woman slung over my shoulder. So, anything is possible.
She stills as the elevator pings and opens in the foyer. I set her down in
the living room and head straight for the bar. This whole evening is
screwing with my head, I need a drink, I need to calm down. Mostly I just
need her, and I’m pissed that I can’t have her.
“Why are we here, Neal? I thought I’m not allowed at your place
anymore?” Her hands are on her hips, her frustration clear as day and
matching my own.
I don’t answer her. Mostly because I don’t have an answer that’s fair.
All I know is that after tonight, having her in close proximity to Flynn,
knowing he touched her… I want her here.
She belongs to me.
I flinch at the thought and down my drink before pouring another.
Turning around I find her staring at me, not having moved from the spot I
set her down.
She crosses her arms. “Answer me.”
Setting my glass down on the bar, I walk towards her. She stands firm as
she holds my gaze, determined to make me answer her. I glance down at
her, her beautiful eyes appear green tonight, mimicking the color in mine.
Her pupils dilate, the black almost drowning the green completely as she
drinks me in.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, the only sign that she wants
to back away, that she’s working hard at standing her ground. My thumb
comes up to her mouth, pulling it free, sliding it over her plump lips.
“Because you drive me insane.”
I close the gap between us, kissing her before she can respond, before I
can think twice about it. She freezes for a second, her mouth rigid against
mine, before she melts into me. Her lips relax as I lave her tongue with my
own. Her arms unfold as she throws them around my neck, pressing her
hands into the hair at the nape, sending shivers down my spine.
My hands move down her throat, over her breasts, pulling her little
dress down to release them. My thumbs run over her hardened nipples
before I bend down and take one in my mouth, pulling a moan from her
lips. Her fingers are still in my hair, pressing me closer to her body.
“These are mine, Amelia,” I say as I move from one breast to the other.
Feeling her chest move underneath my mouth, knowing her breath is
increasing because of me, makes me want more. She doesn’t respond, so I
bite down a little, causing her to gasp. “Say it.”
“They’re yours, Neal.”
 Hearing those words from her lips, brings a smile to my face. Smiling
against her skin, I kiss a line up her throat. She leans her head to the side,
giving me more access, her heartbeat increasing at my touch. I skim her
stomach as I move my hands around her hips, cupping her bare ass in both
hands. Pressing her against me so she can feel how hard she makes me.
“And this ass? Who does it belong to?”
She chuckles softly. “Oh, I don’t know?”
I slap her ass again, eliciting another gasp from her lips. “Try again.”
“It’s yours.”
Slipping my hand between her legs, I’m met with warmth and wetness.
She feels so soft to the touch. Small moans escape her lips as I gently run
my fingers between her folds. “And who’s this for, Amelia? Who makes
you wet?”
She lifts her leg, wrapping it around my hip, trying to give me better
access. I’m rock hard as she’s pressed against me, and I want nothing more
than to bury myself deep inside her. To fuck her all night, erasing every
other man’s touch she’s ever felt.
Her voice comes out low and breathy. “It’s all you. This is all because
of you, Neal.”
A warm feeling settles in my stomach at hearing her say those words.
Followed by a feeling of dread.
I’m not being fair to her. I can’t have her. I’m set to marry Arica, and if
I back out of that contract there will be consequences which involve the
whole Family. It isn’t just about me. I’m sure she could be my mistress
without anyone batting an eye, but I will never do that to her. Or to Arica.
No one should have to endure something like that.
I should be working on a plan to set Amelia free, to give her her life
back, because if all the jobs regarding the Irish go the way it went tonight,
I’m not going to get anywhere near Seamus. All because I won’t risk her
life, to break the contract. I’d rather know she’s alive and well somewhere.
It takes every ounce of strength to pull back from her. The confusion in her
eyes is clear.
“Why are you stopping?” she asks, breathless.
“Amelia.” I drop my gaze, not knowing how to look at her after what I
just did. I take a step back, lowering her leg back to the floor.
“Neal, you can’t do this to me.” Her voice is soft and small, and it’s
making me hate myself.
 “We can’t be together, Amelia.” I turn my back on her and walk back to
the bar to retrieve my drink, feeling like more of a criminal than I have in
my entire life.
“Bullshit.” Her voice is louder now, and I turn around to see her pulling
her dress back up and straightening it out before walking straight to my
pack of cigarettes on the table.
“I haven’t known you for very long, Neal.” She lights her cigarette,
while shaking her head. Her voice is quivering, whether from tears or anger,
I don’t know. Maybe both. “And I’m already sick of all this bullshit. With
Stefan it took three years to get to this point.”
She stares at me with daggers in her eyes. “It took you three weeks.
Congratulations.”
“I told you we couldn’t be more.” I know it’s a weak defense, all things
considering, but what else can I say? I can’t tell her that I’m drawn to her,
that she’s the first woman I’ve wanted to get to know, the first I’ve wanted
in my life, because it will all be for nothing.
“Then what the fuck was this all about?” Her eyes narrow at me and I
can see I’ve pissed her off. Which is fair, I guess. “Am I your girlfriend?
Your Associate? Your fuckbuddy? Whichever, just let me in on it, too. I’m
done with people screwing me around because they don’t know what they
want. I’m not going back to that.”
Her words are like knife wounds to my chest. Except they cut deeper.
The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but I have no choice. We both
participated in this, knowing it couldn’t be more. And now the time to end
this is here, and it fucking sucks. There’s nothing more to it.
“Amelia. I told you-”
“Yeah, I guess I’m the idiot who didn’t listen.” She’s puffing on her
cigarette, not looking at me. “Then tell me why you freaked out tonight?
Why did you drag me out of there, telling me I’m yours, if this is nothing
but business to you?” Adding a little more steel to her voice, she asks the
last question. “Why couldn’t I be with Flynn, for the sake of your Family?”
I’m angry at the fact that she thinks this little of me. I might be the
Underboss, but I don’t deal in flesh. “You’re not a whore, and I won’t have
you sleeping with people to get information from them. I have other ways
to get people to talk, without you having to lose your values over it.”
Besides, there’s no fucking way I’ll ever let her sleep with another man.
I don’t care how hypocritical I might be.
 “And the fact that he’s your cousin?”
I leave the question hanging between us. I don’t have it in me to share
my family’s history with her. It’ll feel like I’m baring a part of my soul, and
there’ll be no turning back if Amelia gets to know me. As if it doesn’t haunt
me to this day, that I’m missing half of my family. I’m a Cosa Nostra man.
Born and bred. Loyalty toward family is a part of me. I’m part of the
Castellano Family, and yet, it feels like there’s something missing. It’s
always felt this way. If it isn’t bad enough that my mother was murdered by
her own brother, I have to continue the family bloodshed by adding a cousin
to my hit list. I may be a cold-hearted killer when I need to be, but family
feels different. So, I don’t answer her.
“He reminds me of you,” she whispers. “You have the same eyes.”
I’ve never met Flynn. Never even seen him and the feeling of what could
have been is gnawing at me. It’s been gnawing at me for years. That’s part
of the reason why I’ll gladly pull the trigger on Seamus. He took more than
my parents that day, he took the promise of something bigger. And for that
he will pay.
Looking up at Amelia, I see that she’s finished her cigarette and has
calmed down a bit. The raging fire I saw a moment ago is reduced to
smoldering embers. I’m not blind to the fact that it won’t take much for
them to roar to life again.
“You’ve completed your job tonight. If there’s something else, I will let
you know. For now, you can return to your life.” Dismissing her like this
feels easy right now. I don’t have the energy to deal with any issues that
can’t be fixed with a gun.
“So that’s it? I’m done?”
“Yes. Romero wanted you to fail tonight, and you didn’t. I’ll expect
there to be some kind of follow up, but I’ll try my best to keep his focus on
me instead.” I run a hand through my hair. “Hopefully he’ll forget about
you and move on.”
Not likely, who can forget someone like her?
“And what about Flynn? You told me I have him to worry about now
too.”
That’s right. By the sound of what went down between the two of them
tonight, Flynn might decide he wants more. I have no idea how he might
react, but I’m not ruling that part out. I can’t seem to leave her alone or get
her out of my head. No doubt Flynn saw something in her too, he’s a fool if
he didn’t.
“I’ll have Travis fuck with their footage for the night. Hopefully that’ll
dissuade him from trying to reach out to you.” It’s my best bet. I’ve already
got men trailing her, and a third one more closely than she’d like. The next
step would be to get her out of that apartment and into a place I know she’ll
be safe, but I’m pretty sure she won’t go for that idea.
She doesn’t respond. Looking up, I can see her arms are folded over her
chest again, like she’s fighting off the cold. Taking my jacket off, I walk
toward her and put it around her. Her eyes find mine, and they’re filled with
hopelessness.
“Don’t do me any favors.” She shrugs the jacket off and hands it back to
me. “You don’t want me, remember?”
“I am a Made Man, Amelia. I’m going to be the Don of the Family.” I
gently take her face, tilting her gaze toward me, the storm in her eyes raging
on. “I killed my first man when I was fifteen. My crimes are too many to
even list.” Searching her eyes to see if this sinks in, I continue. “I have
Italian blood running through my veins, and with that comes a
responsibility to marry an Italian woman. A Cosa Nostra woman. That is
our way.” I let her go and take a step back. “Besides, knowing what you
know, can you honestly say that you even want to be with someone like
me?”
I can see that she’s thinking about everything, calculating, trying to
understand. She’s not from this life. She doesn’t understand the inner
workings, the reasoning, or the traditions of La Cosa Nostra. It’s not
something you learn, it’s who you are.
And I know deep down, she understands that she can never be with a
man who’s bad to the bone.
She shakes her head slowly. “No, Neal, you’re trying to scare me away.”
There’s a flash of hurt in her eyes, followed by a steel determination.
“If you don’t want to be with me, then say it. But don’t use your way of
life as an excuse, or the fact that I’m not Italian, or from an Italian family.”
She takes a step toward me, closing the gap I created.
“I see you.” She runs her hands over my chest. “I see all of you. And
still, I’d choose you.”
She looks up at me, challenging me. “It’s you who has to decide if you
even want to be with someone like me.”
 Chapter 17
Amelia

When Neal suggested that I come with him to his place, I thought it
was to clear everything up between the two of us. Which I suppose he did,
just not in the way I thought he would. After he told me that he couldn’t
choose me, he told me to take one of his guestrooms and that he’ll have
Killian drive me home the next morning. He left and I haven’t seen him or
heard from him in a week.
I should just come to terms with it. He made it clear as day that we’re
done.
The view as I look out over the New York Harbor is absolutely
breathtaking. The sun is setting, turning the sky orange and the water
darker. The lights in the distance are starting to shimmer, glimmering
behind Lady Liberty. They really picked a beautiful place to have the
wedding. However, in my opinion, the occasion doesn’t do the view justice.
The air is growing cold, causing a shiver to run down my spine. This
bridesmaid’s dress is beautiful, but not exactly practical for a wedding in
September. My mother was very generous about buying the one I wanted.
She was so scared I wouldn’t come that she allowed me to pick it. So it’s
not like a normal bridesmaid’s dress. The kind you want to hide in the back
of your closet so that no-one ever sees it. This is a beautiful ivory dress,
covered in green lace, with short sleeves. I hate that I’m in this beautiful
place, wearing this beautiful dress, and I’m not happy in the slightest.
I barely made it through the fucking ceremony. The sight of my mother
happy with that idiot, while they’re promising to stay together ‘til death
parts them. It’s all a big sham. No one stays until death. They give up as
soon as things start getting difficult. As soon as the marriage actually
requires work and sacrifice, they believe they deserve better, and they bail.
It’s a fucking joke.
“Ah, there you are.” Dwayne comes up from behind me, handing me a
glass of champagne. “It really is beautiful out here.”
“Yes, it is.” I take a sip and turn to him. He looks very handsome in his
light grey suit and white shirt, and I’m glad I invited him to accompany me.
“Thanks again for coming with me today, I really appreciate it.” He has
been filling my ears with witty comments all day, and it has made this day
somewhat bearable.
He smiles and tips his glass toward me. “What are friends for?” He
turns his back on the view, leaning against the railing looking at the
wedding party that’s going on in full flare inside. The candlelight reflecting
on his face shows the skeptical expression, and I’m grateful I’m not the
only one feeling this way.
“They sure went all out for a second wedding, if you ask me.” He
comments on the extravagant decor, the shocking number of white roses
and lilies filling the interior, and of course, my mother’s Vera Wang gown.
That’s another reason I want to pull my hair out.
Who does this for a second wedding? It’s absurd.
“Yeah, it’s important for Thomas Mullins to show the people of New
York City that money is no object.” I roll my eyes at the superficiality of it.
“He can spare no expense. He also likes being serious, so to piss him off, I
like to call him Tom.”
“Like the cat?” he asks, chuckling. He looks back over at the party, his
face suddenly serious. “Incoming,” he whispers.
I turn around as the bride and groom make their way over to us. I drink
the rest of my champagne and force a smile on my face. As my mother
approaches, she says, “Ah, Amelia, there you are. Why aren’t you inside
enjoying the party?”
I seriously wonder sometimes if she lives in her own little world. Is she
completely oblivious to the people around her or is she in a permanent state
of denial when it comes to me?
“I’m just enjoying the view, mother.” I tug my date closer. “Have you
met Dwayne? He’s in my Liberal Arts classes.”
My mother’s eyes widen. Not only did I just introduce her to someone
who isn’t Stefan, but he’s taking Liberal Arts, which she thinks is a total
waste of time. She has that in common with her new husband. She gives
Dwayne a tight-lipped smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Dwayne says, nodding his head in greeting,
not shaking Tom’s hand.
My mother’s new husband scoffs, and I can only assume it’s because he
thinks we are somehow beneath him.
 “What do you plan to do with that?” Tom asks us. “Liberal Arts won’t
get you anywhere in life.” That’s all he ever talks about. Making it in the
world, contributing to society, being a successful person all boils down to
one thing for Tom. Money. I can’t believe my mother married him. He is so
different from my dad.
The anger inside of me starts to flare up again. Just looking at his face
makes me want to break his nose. “Not everything in life is about money,
Tom.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Anyone and anything can be bought. You
just have to know the right price.” He puts on a fake smile before he adds,
“And it’s Thomas.” He makes me sick, and I think my disgust for him is
clear on my face, so my mother tries to diffuse the situation.
“Now honey, I’m sure Amelia has a plan all worked out, besides her
main focus is nursing. She is so very much like Stefan that way, planning
their future is important.” She pats him lovingly on the arm. “You don’t
have to be concerned about her.”
I roll my eyes. He is definitely not concerned about my well-being or
my future. It’s more to do with his ego and the fact that he doesn’t want to
be associated with people whose first priority isn’t money. And the fact that
my mother thinks she knows what I want for my future just shows how
deeply delusional she is.
She’s talking about Stefan like he’s the one standing beside me. And she
thinks I need therapy.
Dwayne can sense that I’m about to lose it, so he takes me by the arm
and pulls me away from the newlyweds. “Well, I’m glad I’m studying
Liberal Arts. Otherwise, I might not have had the opportunity to meet the
most beautiful woman in the room, now would I, Tom?”
With that he leads me away, into the crowd of wedding guests, leaving
Tom with his face growing red. Dwayne grabs two more glasses of
champagne from one of the servers. He hands me one as we come to a stop
next to the ridiculously tall wedding cake. I down the drink before thanking
him.
“You just saved me back there.” I look around trying to see where my
mother and her douche is, adding through gritted teeth, “Even though I still
feel like fucking something up.”
“I don’t think that’s just you. That guy had that effect on me too,”
Dwayne says, sticking his finger in the cake. I feel like a complete child,
but it gives me a sense of satisfaction seeing the hole in the side of the cake.
Giggling at Dwayne, I stick mine in, too. A few of the guests glare at us, so
we duck behind the table and take a seat against it. As we’re sitting behind
the table with the cake just above us, we slowly eat a big hole out of the
back of it.
“So, does this make you feel better?” He reaches up and takes a big
chunk of cake before stuffing his face with it.
“Yeah, it helps a little. I could use some more champagne though.” I
peek around the table, trying to see if I can spot a server. “And a cigarette.”
He laughs, patting his jacket. “Cigarettes I have, baby. I just think
everyone will notice a cloud of smoke coming from behind the cake.”
“That’s true.” I’m pretty sure they’ll throw us out if they catch us
smoking behind the cake. “So where can we drink and smoke in peace?”
He points to a side door leading outside. “That way.”
He takes my hand, pulls me up, and we run toward the door. As we get
outside, we’re on the side of the warehouse, away from the water. We spot
Killian and Liz against the side of the building, practically taking each
other’s clothes off. I didn’t even know she was bringing him along as her
plus one. All it does is remind me of the fact that I can’t have Neal, the man
I actually want. While she can have sex with Killian until she’s had enough,
then toss him aside like the rest.
“Those two should seriously just stay in a room and bang until they’re
ready to be normal in public.” I sigh deeply.
Dwayne takes out a cigarette for each of us, lights both, before handing
one to me. Noticing the surprised expression on my face, he shrugs. “A
little party trick.”
I take the cigarette and inhale. Closing my eyes, cutting out the rest of
the world, I feel better already.
“Shouldn’t you be inside, enjoying the party?”
Oh God, no.
Hearing his voice sends a roaring fire through my veins. Because, I
know that when I open my eyes, he will still be standing there, the
embodiment of handsome confidence. Clad in a designer suit, the man who
exudes controlled strength in everything he does. Every cell in my body
seems to gravitate toward the man who crushed me with his words a mere
week ago. If I had any sense at all, I would run in the opposite direction
every time Neal Sanders was in the vicinity.
 As I open my eyes, my suspicions are confirmed. He looks dapper with
his broad shoulders in his dark suit, making his emerald eyes stand out even
more. His jaw tightens as he takes me in, the way he swallows, and his eyes
play over my body. Like he knows it belongs to him.
A jolt of anger goes through me at the fact that he’s here. I’m pissed,
because he ignored me for a week after the encounter we had. After he
made me say every part of me belongs to him, just to throw it back in my
face. He left me standing alone, had nothing to say to me. I shouldn’t want
him, I shouldn’t want to go to him. Luckily, my brain overrides my body.
This time.
I don’t know what he’s doing here, but I know that I’m sure as hell am
not going to give him the satisfaction of asking. Tearing my gaze from him,
I glance up toward Dwayne and move a little closer to him. “You think we
can go have that dance now?”
Dwayne’s body stiffens next to mine as he ever so slightly steps back
from me. He glances sideways toward Neal, as if he’s asking him
permission. I look between the two of them, the situation suddenly as clear
as day.
He knows Neal, he fucking works for him.
I start to laugh at the incredulity of the situation. Dropping my cigarette,
I step on it with such fervor that no one will be able to remove the butt from
the pavement. I can’t believe it. I feel like a complete idiot.
“You know what? Go fuck yourself.”
Dwayne’s face fills with a pained expression before I turn around and
walk away. I push the door open and go back inside, looking for the first
server with a tray filled with any kind of drink.
I barely got my hands on a glass of Scotch, before a cloud of Vera Wang
with a suit attached to it descends upon me. Feeling trapped with Neal at
my back, and my mother and her asshat at my front, I down my Scotch with
the hope that it will knock me out. So that I don’t have to deal with any of
these people. Alas, no such luck.
“Amelia,” she scolds, her face filled with disappointment at my
drinking.
“Amelia,” Dwayne calls from the side door as he tries to come after me,
but Neal stops him and follows me inside instead.
Great. This seems to be just my day.
 I grab another drink from the server who tries to skirt past me, and
down that as well. I have no idea what it is, but the sweetness of it does not
go well with the Scotch I just had. I feel a steadying hand on my lower
back. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
I try to wriggle free from his touch, but Neal insists on pulling me closer.
“And who is this handsome man, Amelia?” I should get an award for
controlling my face at this point. My mother is clearly blind to her double
standards. As she looked down at Dwayne, but now blatantly endorses
Neal. Regardless of her preference for Stefan a few minutes ago.
“Neal Sanders.” Neal takes my mother’s hand and drops a kiss on top of
it before I have the chance to come up with some sarcastic retort. My
mother nearly faints at Neal’s handsome face and manners, which is, of
course, no surprise to me. What is a surprise, however, is Tom’s behavior.
He seems to have shrunk in on himself just a little bit. And where I
would’ve heard a disrespectful comment from him by now, he seems to be
very quiet.
“Congratulations on your big day. It really is a beautiful wedding,” Neal
continues, like there’s not a problem in the world.
“Thank you, Mr. Sanders.” Tom nods at Neal, before he continues
carefully, “I didn’t expect to see you here, considering the rest of the guest
list.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on making an appearance.” He looks down at
me as he pulls me a little closer. “But some things are more important than
appearance, don’t you think Mullins?”
Neal’s eyes are filled with an intimidating glint, making Tom stutter
when trying to get his words together for a response. “Of course, yes, I
understand completely.”
He gestures toward the room. “Please make yourself comfortable. Can I
get you a drink, perhaps?”
Before I can help myself, a sarcastic scoff has already left my lips. “I’ll
take another glass of champagne.”
My response earns me a glare from my mother and a small chuckle
from Neal. The deep rumble in his voice vibrates through me, and is
sending all the wrong feelings to all the right places.
“I’ll make sure she gets home alright.” Neal nods at the newlyweds.
“Once again, congratulations.” He leads me away from them, back toward
the door leading outside. I’m glad to be out of there, away from my mother
and her new husband. As we reach the parking lot, the fresh night air hits
me. Fresh air and alcohol don’t always go so well together, and it has me
scanning the area for something, anything. What precisely I’m looking for I
don’t know. I just need a way out, a way to leave. To get away from this
churning feeling in my stomach. To get away from Neal, too.
“Amelia.” Neal comes up behind me. “You can’t go running off. It’s
dangerous for you out there.”
As I turn around to face him, I let him see the anger burning inside of
me. An entire day with my mother, her double standards, Tom’s
condescension, and then to top it all off, Neal. Not to mention Dwayne’s
betrayal, that he worked for Neal all along. So, it’s no wonder that my voice
is anything but soft when I respond.
“Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do. You have no right.”
“I’m just trying to protect you, Amelia.” He is all business in his black
slacks and white dress shirt. Not a drop of affection, not like when he
slipped up inside, holding me and pulling me close to his body. Right now,
he’s the Underboss, and I’m the Associate who’s stepping out of line.
“You don’t have to do shit, Neal.” I remind him, as he constantly
reminds me, that there can never be anything between the two of us. “It’s
not your job to protect me.” I see his mask slipping at those words as he
struggles to maintain his business-like composure.
“No, it’s not my job.” His jaw tightens, and he swallows hard before he
runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck. I know it’s not my job. I should
actually be focusing on my job, but I’m here instead.”
“Why are you even here?” If it’s such a hardship for him, why did he
come?
“I can’t fucking leave you alone, Amelia!” He raises his voice, his
composure gone, just like mine.
“Stop saying shit like that to me!” I yell. “If you can’t act on it, you
shouldn’t say it!” I start pacing the parking lot, a rant building up inside of
me. It feels like I can smash a car window right now and still not feel any
relief.
“God, you make me so fucking angry! First with your contract and now
getting someone to pretend to be my friend, so what? You can spy on me?”
I’m gesturing like a crazy person as he stands across from me, taking it all
in. “And showing up at my mother’s wedding? Which, by the way, has been
fan-fucking-tastic.”
 I walk towards him and shove him in the chest, even though he doesn’t
move an inch, despite my efforts. “You. Have. No. Right.”
I need to leave. I need to breathe.
“Let me take you home, Amelia,” he says, lowering his voice and looking
at me with his piercing green eyes.
“Why? Do you take all of your Associates home?” He doesn’t respond
to my question, instead he only looks at me with his emerald eyes, a slight
flash of frustration in them. “You are part of the problem, Neal.”
The fact that I can’t be with him is eating at me.
I want to be with him.
“Just come with me,” he says, taking my hand and half dragging me
toward his car.
“No, leave me alone.” I hit him with my clutch, but give up quicker than
I’d like to admit because no matter how hard I try, he’s stronger than I am,
and ten times more sober. “Where are you taking me?”
I can’t be with him again. Neal Sanders is dragging me over the
precipice toward the point of no return.
 Chapter 18
Neal

The private estate is completely surrounded by lush trees and greenery.

It’s close to the Catskills, so everything is surrounded by growth in different
shades of rust and burnt orange, thanks to Fall. It’s not too far from the city,
so we have a few hours left before the night is completely over. The drive
upstate is silent, reminding me so much of the first time I took Amelia
home. She was sitting next to me, seething with anger, the same as now.
Upon arriving, she visibly relaxes a bit as she takes in her surroundings.
I get out of the car and walk over to the passenger side to open the door
for her. I offer her my hand, but she ignores me and gets out on her own.
She doesn’t look at me, but her eyes widen as she takes in the house on the
property. It’s too big for me alone, that’s why I almost never come up here,
but I couldn’t resist buying this house when I saw it. I’ve never intended on
having a family of my own. There’s no place for family in the life I lead.
So, when I saw this house, it felt like the only piece of a perfect family life I
could own.
We walk along the flagstone walkway up toward the house. Unlocking
the front door, I hold it open for her to walk through ahead of me.
Everything inside is outfitted with modern furnishings, thanks to the
decorator that came with the signing of the contract. I replaced the south-
facing wall with a bank of windows, allowing an excellent view of the
woods outside. Now, the glow of the moon lights the wooden floor and the
luxurious rug in front of the fireplace.
“I’ll take you on a tour later.”
She’s quiet next to me as she takes in the large fireplace in the living
area.
“Let’s go out back.”
I put my hand on her lower back, leading her through the double glass
doors, grateful that she doesn’t pull away from me again. Across the patio,
through the garden, is another building. Amelia can’t stop looking around,
taking in everything in awe. A warm feeling spreads through me at the fact
that she is awestruck by the place. I want her to like it as much as I do.
Because she’s the only woman I’ve ever let myself imagine some sort of
life with.
“How often do you come here?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“Not nearly as much as I would like.” I would’ve loved to come up here
more, but I’m needed in the city. The Underboss doesn’t get too many days
off.
We approach the door to the outer building, and I open it using a key
code. I lead the way, switching on the lights, as Amelia steps in behind me.
She stops just inside the door, and I hear a little gasp behind me.
“What is this place?” she asks, softly.
“This is a training facility I had built.” I turn around to see her reaction.
Wide eyes, lips slightly parted, her face filled with fascination. “You’ve got
everything you could possibly need to train in here.”
In this room there is a boxing ring, punching bags hanging from the
ceiling, and every piece of gym equipment necessary for strength training.
A frown forms on her face, not getting why I would bring her here. So, I
take her hand and lead her to the left, through another door. “This is why I
brought you here.”
I turn on the lights and they slowly flicker over three shooting lanes.
The walk-in safe on the other side of the room houses all the weapons.
Entering the key code, it opens and I step in, picking a gun I think would fit
her perfectly. Checking to see if it’s loaded and safe, I nod my head toward
the lane in the middle. “Line up.”
Without hesitation, she steps up toward the loading table, putting on the
safety glasses hanging just above it. Coming up next to her, it’s hard not to
notice how beautiful she looks in the lace dress. The fact that she stepped
up here without a second thought makes me want her even more.
“Have you ever held a gun before?”
She looks up at me, stubbornness set in her eyes, obviously hating the
fact that she hasn’t. “Show me.”
I step closer as I explain. “This is a revolver, it’s got six rounds.” I flip
open the cylinder, spinning it to show her the rounds already lined up. I
click it back and hand her the gun. “Don’t put your finger on the trigger
yet.”
She takes the gun and turns toward the lane, taking a stance that isn’t
too bad for someone handling a gun for the first time. Observing her stance,
her lace dress tight against her beautiful body, legs slightly parted as she
holds her weapon, is sending a wave of heat through my body.
I step up behind her, flipping the switch so the targets appear up front. I
use my foot to shove her feet shoulder width apart and lift her arms from
behind. Having her head pressed against my chest, her dark hair smelling
like vanilla underneath my nose, is not helping me concentrate in any way. I
use my hands to guide her, lifting the weapon to help her aim at her target,
enveloping her from behind.
God, I love how she feels pressed up against me.
Leaning down, I whisper in her ear. “Take your aim, Amelia.”
She holds the revolver, bringing it up perfectly toward the target. I
release her hands so she’s holding and aiming on her own. “Now, take a
deep breath in and hold it.” I can feel her ribs expanding, and she holds her
breath. “When I tell you, exhale and slowly pull the trigger toward you. It
should feel like you’re greeting an old friend.”
She is perfectly still, focused on nothing but the target. With my mouth
next to her ear, I whisper. “Now.”
She pulls the trigger, and the shot rings in our ears. I’m impressed to see
that she didn’t cower away from the noise or the power of the revolver.
“How did that feel?” I ask her.
She turns her head up toward me and we’re nose to nose. I can see her
dilated pupils, her eyes fluttering like she can’t believe she just did that. Her
body relaxes into mine for a moment, her eyes lowering, focusing on my
mouth as she bites her bottom lip. “I want to do it again.”
I nod, not wanting to step back just yet. “Whatever you want, Amelia.”
I stare at her for a second longer before stepping back as she turns,
facing forward. She empties the entire cylinder on the target in front of her.
When she’s done, she gently lowers the gun and turns toward me. “That felt
amazing.”
She has a small smile on her face and is exuding a confidence I haven’t
seen before.
She walks toward me and hands me the gun. “What’s next?”
Loving the excitement in her, I take the weapon from her and chuckle.
“What about some food?”
“Seems fair, since you literally dragged me from my dinner tonight.”
She follows me out the door. As we walk through the other room on our
way back outside, her admiration of the training room is clear.
 “See something you like?”
She lets out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m just wondering if your
other Associates get to train with you?”
“Well, we usually don’t need to train them.” Shrugging, I continue, “We
don’t have a habit of contracting nursing students as Associates.”
“Will you train me, though?”
“Is that something you’d want?” I didn’t think Amelia was interested in
the more brutal part of the business. “I’d never put you in a situation where
you’d have to fight your way out, you know.”
“Even so. I want to be able to hold my own out there.” She’s got
determination in her eyes as she glances at the boxing ring. This woman is
so much more than just beautiful. She wants it all, and I’ll happily be the
one to give it to her.
“Then I’ll definitely train you.” I answer and gesture for her to follow
me back out. Agreeing to train her effectively means I’ll spend more time
with her, the first time I willingly want to spend more time with a woman
and it’s someone I shouldn’t be seeing.
As we head outside, the cold air hits us. She shivers next to me and
moves slightly closer to me. “Let’s get you inside.” I put my arm around
her, and we walk back, admiring the stars that are clearly visible far away
from the city’s lights.
“It really is beautiful out here.” Her voice is soft, little puffs of air
leaving her lips as she speaks.
“I find it peaceful.” I pull her a bit closer, realizing that having her close
to me has more of a calming effect on me than the quiet outdoors. We walk
back to the house in silence, the unspoken issue hanging heavy between us.
As we reach the living area, I lead her toward the couch, hand her a blanket
and get the fireplace going. The housekeeper usually ensures that the
fireplaces are stacked and ready to ignite. It takes a few seconds before the
flames start to crackle behind the grate, filling the silence as the wood snaps
under the flames.
As I turn back, I see her snuggling up under the blanket. Everything
about that image looks inviting. I tuck my hands in my pockets to keep
myself from reaching out to her. “So, about that dinner?”
“Before we get to that...” She tugs the blanket up underneath her chin,
completely covering her body, warding off the cold. She doesn’t look at me
as she speaks, and it’s obvious that she’s battling to decide whether or not to
continue. Her gaze meets mine, filled with resolve as she says, “Tell me,
why you came and got me, Neal?”
Because I’m a weaker man when it comes to you.
I wonder if the reason is clearly written across my face. It’s not a
reasonable excuse. It doesn’t even make sense after our conversation at the
penthouse, but it is what it is. It’s not something I can change. Fuck knows,
I’ve been trying to turn it off, trying to will it away, but Amelia has crawled
beneath my skin and there’s no denying the hold she has on me.
“I need you to say it.” Her voice is soft, but it’s clear that if I don’t say
it, this will be it for us.
I’m toying with the idea of just keeping my mouth shut, and grabbing us
some food from the kitchen, like I told her I would. It would be the smartest
option, the option that’s best for the Family. But I know that will cause her
to shut the door on me, and I know for a fact that I’m not ready for that. I
need that door to remain open, because I still have hope that I can somehow
get out of this engagement contract with the Bastone’s. Only now, the
reason is no longer that I don’t want to marry Arica, but that I want my
freedom to be with the woman I want.
“I can’t let anyone else have you, Amelia.” I lift my gaze and watch her
face softening slightly at my words. “You belong to me.”
She nods and remains silent, chewing on my words. She slowly lifts one
end of the blanket, inviting me to get under it with her. I take off my shoes
and sit down next to her. She moves closer to me, snuggling against my
chest as my arms reach around her, pulling her against me.
“Tell me about the situation with the Irish,” she whispers. At least she
isn’t lashing out at me. But she’s making it clear that I have to give her
something, pieces of me. This is something new for me. Nobody knows my
business, only what they need to know. I’ve never let anyone into my
personal life and sharing parts of myself is not something that comes
naturally to me. But with her, I’m willing to give it a try.
“Their leader is Seamus Flynn.” I run my fingers through her hair, glad
that I can’t see her reaction at my screwed-up life. “He’s my uncle, on my
mother’s side.”
“So that’s where Flynn fits in.” She affirms.
“Yes, I didn’t even know he existed until this week. I was under the
impression that Seamus was still doing most of the heavy lifting.” Running
a hand across my jaw, discomfort moves through me at sharing the
information. I don’t want this conversation to get to a point where I’d have
to tell her about my contract with the Bastone’s. If I can, I’d just get out of
it without her ever having to get hurt over it. There’s nothing between me
and Arica, never has been and never will be, but she might see it differently.
“You mean to say, you’re at war with your own family?” She sits up and
looks at me with narrowed eyes. “What about your mother?”
Taking a deep breath, I answer, “She was killed when I was little.”
Her hand clasps over her mouth as she gasps at the information I
dropped like it was nothing. As I watch her, tears spring to her eyes. “I’m so
sorry, Neal.” Amelia leans against me. “I know what it’s like to lose a
parent, and I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.”
She’s quiet for a little while, before asking the question that I knew was
coming. “How did she die?”
“Seamus killed her for marrying my father.” Saying it out loud brings
back the memories of that night. Memories I keep buried. I’ve spent my
whole life living with the knowledge that I’m part of a family who murders
their own. And I’ve made peace with the fact that I’ll be joining them
shortly. “And I will kill him for it.”
I lift her chin so that she can look at me. “I have to keep you safe,
Amelia. At any cost.” She nods slowly, my fingers following the
movement. “I can’t lose you too.”
She leans up and brushes my lips. Sighing, I close my eyes, relieved
that she knows this about me now and she isn’t running away. Little by little
she’s learning about the monster I am, and still she stays, ready for more. I
lean down and claim her mouth. There’s no denying how right this feels,
having her in my arms, kissing her like we’re the only two people in the
world.
I trail my fingers down her neck, along her collar bone, down over her
breast. She’s still wearing the dress, and I want her out of it. I want to feel
her warm body pressed against mine. I’m not sure she’ll allow me to take it
off after the way I treated her a week ago, but everything in me is urging me
to rip it off her. To claim her and never let go.
“Neal.” She whispers against my mouth, pulling away slightly. “Don’t
do this if you’re going to push me away again.” She swallows, her eyes
searching mine. “I won’t be able-”
“I want you, Amelia.” My gaze meets hers, slight fear and hesitation
dancing in her eyes. I’m the one who made her feel this way, and I’m sorry
for that. The fact, however, is that this is not an easy situation. “Everything
about this is complicated, but that part is true. If everything could be as
simple as that, you’d be mine already.”
A war is waging inside of her, and it mirrors my own. We both know
that being together will only cause us pain, will only make this more
difficult than it already is. But how do you fight something that feels right
and natural in every way. How do you fight gravity?
Amelia stands up, her mind made up, as she pulls me up with her. Her
decision clear in her eyes, she turns her back toward me, moving her dark
hair over her shoulder, exposing the zipper of her dress to me. Lowering my
head, I place soft kisses over her bare shoulder as I find her zipper and
slowly undress her, allowing it to fall to the ground. She is left standing in
nothing but a scrap of lace, parading in underwear. Her body is soft and
beautiful in the light the fire is casting over us.
I unbutton my shirt, letting it fall to the floor, next to her dress. She
reaches for my belt before I can, undoing my pants and pushing them down.
Amelia runs her hands over my chest, down over my stomach, stopping just
above my cock.
She looks up at me. “Put your hands on me, Neal.” Her voice is low and
breathy.
I pick her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, her core hot against
my stomach. Laying her down on the rug in front of the fireplace, I kiss her
deeply as my hunger for her grows. Trailing a path with my tongue down
her neck, along her chest and over her naked breasts, I take her nipple into
my mouth, feeling it harden as I gently suck on it.
Moving over to the other nipple, I gently bite down, causing a small
gasp to escape her. Her warm flesh is inviting, and I suck on it, marking her
body as she opens her legs a little wider in response. She grabs my hair,
running her fingers through it as I feel her heartbeat increasing against my
mouth. I run my fingers between her hot folds, spreading her wetness
around.
“Tell me what you want, Amelia.” I gaze up at her, bringing my fingers
to my mouth, sucking on it and relishing the sweet taste of her. The way I
crave to be inside of her is mind numbing, and I want to hear her say it.
She pulls my face up toward her own, kissing me, tasting herself on my
lips as she whispers, “I need you inside of me.”
 My eyes close at hearing those words, knowing she wants me as much
as I want her. As I settle over her, she opens for me. With one swift move, I
push deep into her. She gasps at the sudden invasion, and I can feel her
clenching around me, trying to adjust to the sudden fullness. Lowering my
head, I rest my forehead against hers, savoring the feel of her, so tight and
wet around me.
And I want more.
I start moving in and out of her, grinding my hips against her every time
I push into her. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but every time
I’m inside of her, I want to come. Like a fucking teenager who can’t hold
out for longer than two seconds. Slowing down, I pull back. She uses that
moment to press me onto my back and climb on top of me.
Her hands rest on my chest, her feet planted firmly on the rug, as she
slowly lowers down onto me. She takes me inch by inch until she’s all the
way down. Staring at the place where we come together, a feeling of
possession moves through me, knowing I’m so deep inside of her that I
can’t make out where her body begins and mine ends. She starts lifting and
lowering at a faster pace, making it difficult for me to hold out. Seeing her
on top of me, riding my cock, taking pleasure from me, makes me want to
come deep inside of her.
I reach between her legs, circling her clit with my thumb. Her head falls
back, as small moans escape her lips with every movement. She slows
down, looking at me. “I’m so close already, Neal.”
“So come for me, Amelia.” I take her hips and thrust upwards, burying
myself in her. Her eyes close as she relishes the feel of me filling her
completely. I rise up slightly, pushing her backward. Her breath catches as I
make contact with the sweet spot inside of her. I take a nipple into my
mouth, grazing it with my teeth as I pull out of her. Feeling the sudden loss
of her warmth, I plunge deep into her as she squeezes tightly around my
cock, and I can’t hold out any longer. I send my release deep inside of her,
as my cock pulsates against her tight walls, she slips over the edge with me.
I pull her back onto my chest, our hearts beating together, leaving no
trace that they were once two. Running my hands over her back, over the
curve of her bottom, I pull her closer to me. It’s like I can never get enough
of her. And it hits me.
I’m falling in love with this woman.
 I wonder how the hell I got here, what it would mean if I publicly
claimed her as mine. I’m still inside of her as I hold her tight in my arms.
With these feelings still at war inside me, we drift off in front of the fire.

∞∞∞

I wake up the next morning, with the feeling of Amelia’s fingers tracing
my tattoo over my back. She asked me about it the first time I took her
home, but I couldn’t share it with her. And I still can’t.
Not yet.
I try to put it aside, for now at least, as I move toward her. I roll her on
her back as I settle on top of her. Feeling her naked body underneath me is
awakening my hunger for her again. I kiss her and she opens so easily for
me, letting me in. I move down, trailing her body with kisses as I reach her
hip and the words written there.
“Tell me about yours, Amelia.” She doesn’t answer me right away, so I
kiss her hips and her stomach, giving her time. I look up at her, and her eyes
are filled with stubbornness. But there’s a certain strength and confidence
attached to it, the fire within her. These are the reasons I’m falling in love
with her, and these are the reasons why she can’t be in my life. It’s too
dangerous.
“I’m scared I’ll end up being like my mother,” she whispers. “I don’t
ever want to give up because life with someone is too difficult, or the
challenges get to be too hard.”
She pulls my face up as she looks into my eyes. “When I make a choice,
I want to own it, even if it’s the wrong one. It’ll be beautiful, because it’s
part of who I am.”
I can’t believe she thinks herself to be anything but strong. “There’s
nothing weak about you, Amelia.”
“What if there is?” she asks unsure, her voice soft and wavering. “I
come from weakness, Neal. Both my parents took the easy way out. My
mother left and my dad-” Tears well in her eyes and she tries to swallow
them away, “My dad committed suicide.”
She closes her eyes, ashamed of the confession of weakness. How can
she not see that it just shows me how strong she is? I lower my face to hers
and kiss the tears running down her cheeks.
“Look at me, Amelia.”
She opens her eyes, those beautiful eyes that had me from the first time
I saw her. “You will never choose the easy way out.”
She shakes her head, trying to contradict me. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do,” I assure her. “The fact that you recognize possible
vulnerabilities shows strength and courage.” I lean down and kiss her as I
keep my eyes open. “That’s showing more strength than I ever have.”
“Neal, I...”
I kiss her again, cutting off what she was going to say. The words I want
to hear from her lips are not the ones she can say to me. So, we’re better off
just enjoying whatever time we have together.
When we break apart, a smile spreads on her lips. “I vaguely remember
being promised food last night. And yet here I am, unfed and unsatisfied.”
“Unsatisfied?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at her comment. “I remember
a lot of satisfaction last night. In fact...” I start rummaging under the blanket
we dragged to the floor with us. “I’m sure I can still find the evidence
around here somewhere.”
She starts laughing and swatting my hands away, trying to cover up.
“Don’t you dare!”
I playfully grab her wrists and pin them above her head. “Yield.”
Her blue-green eyes meet mine, flames dancing in them. “Never.”
And I know she means it. This woman will never give up.
 Chapter 19
Amelia

This house is absolutely breathtaking. The whole place is surrounded

by bay windows looking out over nothing but forest. It’s so secluded and
quiet up here, not at all like the city. I could actually see myself coming
here with Neal, hiding away from the world. Recharging before we face
everything that’s waiting for us back in New York.
I peer over my shoulder to where Neal is standing. He’s in his boxers,
cutting up tomatoes, trying to be helpful. I offered to make us breakfast, but
he insisted on doing something since he promised me food and still hasn’t
delivered.
“How’re you holding up over there, Sanders?” I can’t help the smile in
my voice, seeing the big bad Underboss in the kitchen doing something as
simple as chopping tomatoes.
He looks up and twirls the knife with effortless elegance between his
fingers, reminding me of the trained killer he is, before setting it down
again, chopping like a pro.
“Oh, you shouldn’t doubt my knife skills, Amelia.” He winks. “It’s my
specialty.”
“Is that so?” I turn around to face him fully.
I have nothing to wear except my bridesmaid dress, and I’d be happy to
never see that thing ever again. So, I settled for wearing his dress shirt with
nothing underneath. “Why don’t you show me?”
“That’s the plan. Last night you handled a gun.” He walks forward,
spinning the knife and holds it out toward me, hilt first. “Today a blade.”
I glance down at it. I wasn’t really serious about learning to fight. But
now that I’m looking at the blade, I want nothing more than to learn how to
wield it. I take it from him and hold it up over my head, like a typical
slasher movie villain.
“Like this?” I ask teasingly.
Lifting my arm is causing the shirt to ride up, revealing my thigh and
the underside of my ass, pulling Neal’s gaze down. His eyes darken at the
sight of my naked body peeking at him. He places his hands on my bare
hips and steps closer, pressing against me so I’m able to feel his body’s
reaction to mine. As I lower the knife, he grabs my hand and presses the
blade against his naked chest.
“Like this.” Without breaking eye contact with me, he guides me
further. “Enter just below the ribs and sternum. Press up at an angle, and
you’ll hit the heart.”
He looks at me for a second longer, his breath warm against my skin,
his body hard against my own, before he takes the knife from me. He backs
up and goes back to his tomatoes. Chopping like he didn’t just show me
how to kill someone. Like he didn’t just rile me up.
“Do you think...” I swallow, not really knowing how to ask him. “Could
you perhaps teach me, you know, with my training?”
He rinses his hands in the sink, next to his chopping board. “You want
to learn how to fight with a knife?”
“Yes, I want to be able to defend myself.” I return to whisking the egg
whites, taking out some of my frustration on the whisk, suddenly feeling
weak compared to the people he spends his time with.
“Then you don’t have to pay people to pretend to be my friends.” I’m
still a little angry about the fact that he paid Dwayne to… I don’t even
know what he paid him to do. Be my friend? That just seems sad and
pathetic. Without looking at him, I continue beating the egg whites. “Were
you ever going to tell me about Dwayne?”
He moves over, putting the tomatoes next to the other chopped up
ingredients. He takes out a pan and puts it on the heat. I’m aware of his
body next to mine, so much bigger and stronger. I feel small and weak, and
I hate that he feels the need to surround me with people to protect me.
“Amelia, you know I would do anything and everything to keep you
safe.”
I reach over and chuck a knob of butter in the pan, watching as it melts
on the heat, as he affirms my point. “Even lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie to you, Amelia.” He sighs. “We weren’t exactly talking, so I
made a decision regarding your safety.” He picks up the chopped
ingredients and leans past me to put them in the pan. “A decision as your
Capo.”
Excuse me?
I grab the bowl from him. “A decision as my what now?”
 “Your Capo.” He reaches for the bowl, but I hold it back, waiting for
him to dare elaborate on that load of shit. “When you signed that
agreement, I became your Capo. I have the right to protect what’s mine. In
any way I see fit.”
Some of the mushrooms fly over the edge of the pan as I chuck the
ingredients in with force. “Let me ask you something, Capo.” I get my
spatula out and start tossing the contents of the pan around like they did
something to me. “Do you still think it was a good idea to show me how to
stab someone in the heart, right before you started this fucked up
conversation?”
He starts to chuckle, and it’s like adding petrol to the flame.
“I’m serious, Neal. I don’t appreciate being trailed like some criminal. If
you want to put a security detail on me, then talk to me about it.” I all but
shove the spatula in his face. “I’m not some asset that you need to protect.”
He runs his hand over his face. “It’s not like that with you, Amelia, and
you know it.”
I want to know it, but I still don’t know what the hell we’re doing here. I
reach for the egg whites so I can fold them in. He takes the bowl from me.
“You’re just going to fuck up the eggs with that temper of yours.”
“I’m not going to fuck up anything.” I take the bowl back. “You’re the
one who fucked up here. So just be a man and admit it.”
He stays quiet for a while. “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “I
fucked up.”
“And?” I pour the egg mixture into the pan, loving the sizzling sound it
makes, and it sounds like a small victory to me.
“And don’t push it,” he says, standing behind me, shifting my hair back
over my shoulder to kiss my neck. I turn my head to look at him, lifting my
eyebrows, waiting.
“And,” he says, “I will discuss it with you in the future.”
I tilt my chin and kiss him. He deepens the kiss as I turn in his arms,
pressed against his chest. Suddenly, I’m aware that I’m still mostly naked. I
smile against his mouth. “We seriously have to eat that frittata, it smells too
good to let it go to waste.”
He lets out a groan. “Fine, you’ll eat breakfast first, but then...” He
opens the top two buttons of the shirt I’m wearing, his excitement clear as it
presses against my stomach. “Then it’s my turn for breakfast.”
 ∞∞∞

Breakfast was absolutely delicious, and I’m sated in more ways than
one. Neal brought me back to the training room for our first lesson. As I
step into the room again today, I’m filled with excitement. It feels great
knowing that he is sharing something about his life with me. He grew up
training every day, he was built to fight, and I can’t help but feel that he
shouldn’t have to be saddled up with someone who can’t even defend
herself.
I borrowed a pair of his boxer briefs and a shirt, and even if they are
way too big, it’s better than attempting this while wearing only a dress shirt.
We’re on one of the training mats, it’s large and black with white lines on it.
Neal goes to the panel on the wall that houses different kinds of blades. He
picks one and walks back to me.
“This is a Daga.” He holds out the knife and I reach for it. “Not yet,
Amelia.”
I pull back my hand, waiting for him to continue. “This is a short-edged
weapon, so you’ll be working in short range with it.”
“Short range,” I repeat. “As in close to me.”
“Yes, this is a weapon you can keep on you at all times, so if you’re
ever threatened, you can defend yourself.” Neal’s green eyes are
unwavering and serious. Seeing him in training mode doesn’t make it easy
for me to focus. This is a different side of Neal, one that I haven’t seen
before. And I have to admit, I like this side of him.
“It’s mainly used to lacerate, cut or puncture. So, the moves you’ll learn
will be to do just that to your opponent.” He steps closer. “Hold out your
hand.”
I hold out my right hand as he places the blade in it, folding my fingers
so that I am gripping it in the correct way.
“You have to learn how to hold it so that it’s an asset to you.” He looks
up at me. “And not a liability.”
“As in...”
“As in you don’t get killed with your own weapon.” The corner of his
mouth lifts slightly, finding the idea amusing.
 “Now.” He turns away, walking toward the wall and getting another
blade. “There are different maneuvers you’re going to learn.” He points
toward the lines on the mat with his knife. “That’s what these are for, you
track your steps with it. Your footwork is just as important.”
Fuck, who knew it was this complicated.
“So, it’s not as simple as ‘stick them with the pointy end’?” I ask,
hoping I’ll remember everything he’s teaching me if I ever were to find
myself in a situation where I’d have to cut my way out. My self-defense
classes didn’t help me so much in the situation at the club, but maybe if I
had some sort of weapon, things could have been different.
“Amelia.” He chuckles. “That’s probably the gist of it, yes. But there’s a
little more to it.”
He moves forward and adjusts the blade in my hand. “How does the
grip feel?”
“Comfortable. Strong.” It feels great.
“Wonderful.” He moves towards one of the lines. “Now, these are for
cutting or slashing. You lead with your thumb.” He starts a series of basic
steps that resemble some sort of dance sequence, slashing with the blade in
nine different steps, ending the last one with a cut I know would kill your
opponent. He moves with deadly grace, and I find myself fearing him a
little. Neal might look amazing in a suit while he’s running his businesses,
but he is clearly a warrior.
I walk up to one of the lines and try my best to follow him. At first, I
feel really silly, but as I get the footwork down, I start to add strength to my
movements, and an odd sense of empowerment fills me.
Neal stops with his demonstration. As he moves around me, assessing
my steps and cuts.
“That looks good, Amelia.” Without looking at him, I respond, “Are
you referring to my ass or to my knife skills?”
“Both,” he says. “In equal measure.” I look up to see a small smile
quirking his lips.
“So, when are we sparring?” I attempt one of the slashing steps I just
learned, knowing he’d be able to take any advance on him.
He blocks me with ease, grabbing my wrist and twisting my body
around so that my back is against his chest. He runs his fingers along my
throat, his voice low and dangerous. “You won’t be able to handle it.”
 I press my ass into his crotch, grinding a little. He releases a groan as I
start to feel his cock respond to my movements. “Oh, I don’t know, I might
have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
As I divert his attention, I shove him back and twist, attempting another
slash move. He blocks me again, this time twisting my arms and pressing
me down on the mat. He straddles me while holding me down, and I can
feel his cock is rock hard against my ass.
“Playing dirty, are we?” He leans forward and licks along my ear. “You
shouldn’t start something you won’t be able to finish.”
Smiling against the mat, I buck my hips against him, causing him to
slightly loosen his grip. It’s enough for me to turn and slash toward him
again, which sends him back as I position the blade just below his sternum,
like he taught me. “You were saying?”
With a grin on his face, he quickly disarms me, pressing my arms above
my head and leaning down.
“Seeing you like this...” His eyes darken as he looks me over. “Makes
me want to keep you here.”
“For some more training?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“Training yes, I like seeing you pointing a knife at me.” He kisses me
once, softly, before whispering, “And to make you mine in every way
possible.” Knowing that it’s not something that he should say out loud.
“Neal.” I tilt my chin, asking for more. Hearing him say these things
gives me a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll give the two of us a
chance. He kisses me again, releasing my hands so he can pull my shirt off
over my head.
“How will I ever get enough of you?” He kisses his way down my body,
taking me once more before we have to leave this place.
This man will be the end of me.

∞∞∞

It’s late afternoon, and we have to head back to the city. I have class
again tomorrow, and Neal has...
Oh God, whatever the fuck it is Neal has to do.
 I don’t think I can ask him what’s on his agenda for the week. I’m not
entirely certain the answer won’t contain the words drugs, weapons and
prostitutes. Part of me wants to know every little detail of his business since
I am technically now an Associate of the Family. Another part is scared that
I won’t be able to handle it if I know everything he does, everything that
will be expected of me.
I peer at him, he’s been different ever since we got in the car. I guess
he’s got his Underboss mask on again, composing himself for who he has to
be when he’s back in the city.
“Neal.” I put my hand on his thigh. “When I signed the contract, it
means that I work for you now, right? I mean… can you ask something of
me, and I’d have to comply?” I don’t want to sound frightened, but for
some reason it comes out that way. I don’t want Neal to ever see me as
someone who’s weak and afraid.
“Yes, technically I can.” He looks over at me, picks up my hand, and
kisses my fingers. “But I’d never do that.” I can’t help but feel a little
disappointed, realizing I’d do anything for Neal, if he asked me.
Shit, when did that happen?
“And your uncle?”
“My uncle can also ask you, but I doubt that he would. It’ll always go
through me.” He looks back at the road. “Everything always goes through
me.”
“How come?” It’s not the first time he’s mentioned that he’s the one
who handles everything, even though his uncle is technically the Don of the
Family.
“He’s been getting ready to pass the reins on to me,” he says, not
looking at me, but his features turn to steel. “I am taking over the Family in
the next three months.”
I didn’t expect that. The man sitting next to me is going to be the Don of
the Castellano Crime Family. He looks so young, and yet it’s clear that he is
made for this. I don’t even have to ask him if he’s ready for this. It’s evident
on his face. He’s been ready for this for a long time now.
“Why only in three months’ time?” I ask.
He stays quiet, his face hardening a little at the question. “There are
certain...” He turns his head to look away. “Requirements, before I can fully
take over.”
 I’m unsure if I should ask what those requirements are. Surely, he
would tell me if I could know about it. The inner workings of a criminal
family are probably none of my business.
“Is it something you can easily do?” I ask instead.
He looks over at me, his eyes softening for a second before he looks
back at the road. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
I lean my head against his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be able to, Neal.
You’re not one to back away from a challenge, and besides...” I peer up at
him. “You’ll do what needs to be done for your Family.”
He kisses my head and whispers. “You’re amazing, Amelia.”
I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of being this close to him. Feeling
his body move as he breathes, the warmth radiating from him, and I find
myself wanting to never be away from him again.
I think I’m falling in love with this man.
I shake my head a little at the thought. It can’t be.
I can’t have these feelings for him. Not when everything else is so
unsure. I know he wants me, but I can’t help but feel that his Family is
always going to come first. Maybe that’s what’s been holding him back, the
fact that he has to take over for his uncle. Maybe if all that is over and done
with, he’ll consider giving us a chance.
That’s a lot of maybe’s, Amelia. Just stop.
As we drive through the city, almost at my apartment, Neal leans down
and asks, “Would you like to come back to my place for a little while?”
A sense of relief fills me at hearing that question. A part of me was
scared that once we crossed city lines, things would go back to the way they
were. I sit up and stare into his green eyes. “I’d love to.”
Relief washes over his face and I take his hand as we drive past my
building toward his. As we turn into the downstairs parking area, I can see
Neal’s demeanor changing. His focus is locked on a red car that’s parked
close to his private elevator.
“Maybe I should just take you home.” He starts to turn the car around to
drive out again, when I see a beautiful woman with long black hair
climbing out of the red car. She’s dressed to the nine, and suddenly I feel
very self-conscious in the oversized gym clothes I borrowed from Neal.
I put a hand on the steering wheel, stopping him from turning it. “Who
is she, Neal?”
 She sees us and a smile spreads across her face before she walks over to
the car. Neal looks at me, regret filling his eyes. “I’m so sorry about this,
Amelia.”
The woman reaches the hood of the car, waiting for us to get out. So, I
open my door and get out, not sure what to make of the situation.
She puts out her hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Arica,” she says, sounding
so friendly. “Neal’s fiancé, and you are?”
Shocked, I’m fucking shocked.
 Chapter 20
Neal

It was never supposed to happen like this.

I’m still on my side of the car as Arica walks over to Amelia, holding
out her hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Arica.” She’s being smarmy with her
overly large smile. “Neal’s fiancé, and you are?”
Fuck, I’m fucked.
Amelia takes her hand, not backing down in the slightest. “I’m Amelia.”
She turns to me, the tenderness in her eyes melting away. “I’m one of Mr.
Sanders’ Associates.”
Arica looks her up and down, sizing her up. “Since when do Associates
wear what looks to be the Boss’s gym clothes.” She drops her hand and
looks at me. “And on a Sunday evening, no less.” Her snide remark is not
lost on me, and I swallow down my frustration. I have to put an end to this.
“She’s busy with training.” I have to get her out of here. “What are you
doing here? We didn’t have an appointment.”
Hopefully, the change of topic will take Arica’s focus away from
Amelia. I can’t have her tattling to her father about this. It could influence
our deal with the Bastone’s. There’s a right way to go about this without
causing a war between our Families.
“I know, but if you’d answer your phone, honey...” She looks at me, her
eyes filled with amusement at my discomfort. “You’d know that I have
some things to discuss with you about the wedding.” Her gaze flicks back
to Amelia, before adding, “You know three months isn’t a lot of time to get
things done.”
A flicker of shock is evident on Amelia’s face, followed by a hard-set
understanding.
She knows this is the requirement I told her about in the car.
Struggling to control my anger, I ignore Arica and take my phone out to
call Killian. He needs to come and get Amelia so I can deal with this
woman. I don’t want her subjected to Arica any longer. She doesn’t deserve
any of this.
He answers on the first ring. “Boss.”
 “I need you in the parking garage, now.” Ending the call abruptly, I turn
to Amelia. “You’re going with Killian.”
Amelia’s eyes are filled with fire as she looks at me and nods tersely.
It’s obvious that she’s trying her very best not to lash out, and I’m thankful
that she’s the type of woman who can read the situation and know that now
is not the best time to let her emotions get the best of her. I’ll make this up
to her in some way. I don’t even know if I should. I don’t want to make this
whole situation any worse than it already is. It was never my intention to
hurt her.
The elevator arrives, and Killian steps out. On seeing the situation I’m
in, his mouth curves into a smile, which he tries to hide by rubbing his jaw,
his eyes clearly laughing at me.
Fucker. Like he’s so fucking perfect.
“What can I do for you, Boss?” Killian asks, putting his hands in the
pockets of his leather jacket, smiling at both Amelia and Arica as he rocks
on his heels.
“Take Amelia wherever she needs to go. She’s done for today.”
Her mouth is set in a hard line as she glowers at me. She walks over to
Killian and takes his hand, smiling up at him like he could do no wrong in
her eyes. “Yes, let’s get out of here.”
Without looking back at me, she walks with him to his car and gets in.
My hands are twitching at my side with the urge to punch someone. I want
her to come up with me, and I want Arica out of my sight. As they drive
away and I’m only faced with their red tail lights, I whip my head toward
her.
“What the fuck are you doing at my house, Arica?” I bite out.
“Well, there he is now.” She slowly walks toward me. “Does your
girlfriend know about your little temper or is that purely for my benefit?”
“What do you want?” I’ve never killed a woman before, but so help me
God, if she pushes me any further, she’ll end up at the bottom of the
Hudson.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all week, but you refuse to answer any of
my texts or calls.” Her demeanor softens slightly. She puts her hand on my
chest, and I fight the urge to step back. “So, you left me no choice but to
show up here.”
Closing my eyes, I try to calm the rage pounding through me like the
beat of a war drum. “I’ll ask once more, what do you want?”
 “I guess you’re not going to invite me upstairs so we can have this
conversation like civilized human beings.” I open my eyes and see her dark
eyes staring up at me. They’re glimmering with excitement.
She’s enjoying every second of this.
“Like I said, we’re getting married in three months, and I wanted to
come and see the penthouse for myself.” She runs her finger down my
chest, over my stomach. “To see what’s in there I can use.” I catch her hand
before she reaches her goal, gripping it tightly.
“I suggest you get in your car and go home, Arica.”
She pulls her hand free of my grip with a scoff. “Okay, fine.” She steps
back before continuing, “But seriously, I want to take a look at the place to
see which of my things I can bring over.”
“You’ll not be bringing anything over here.” My voice is cold and
harsh. She will not fucking live here. I don’t want her anywhere near the
place Amelia has been. In my eyes, it will always belong to her.
“Are you serious? Where do you expect me to stay, Neal?” Her temper
is rising. “We’ll be husband and wife. I’m not living separate from you.”
“I’ll buy you your own house or apartment, you can choose which.” I
turn my back on her, walking toward the elevator. “When we have to make
an appearance in public, we’ll do so, but other than that, I don’t see why we
have to subject ourselves to living together.”
The anger is clear on her face now. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we’ll ever be husband and
wife.” I get in the elevator and use my key code to access the penthouse.
“So, plan your wedding, choose your house, and stay out of my way.”
And with that I leave her, standing alone and pissed in the parking
garage as the elevator doors close in front of me.

∞∞∞

I haven’t been in my apartment for more than an hour before I hear the
pinging sound of the elevator. I’m hoping it’s Killian to tell me how things
went with Amelia. I need to know how she’s doing. As soon as I got
upstairs, I took out my phone, wanting to call her and explain, but I have no
idea what to say. The one thing I want to tell her is the one thing I can’t. So,
calling to try to explain would be useless.
Unfortunately, it’s Salvatore coming through the elevator doors, his
black trench coat billowing behind him as he walks in like he owns the
place. “Neal, Neal, Neal...” he tuts with disapproval.
He knows. She fucking ran to daddy.
I turn toward the window, looking out over the park and the city,
coming alive with lights as the sun sets. “How can I help you tonight,
Salvatore?” My annoyance flares up again after this afternoon’s shit show.
He better tread lightly. Fuck knows, I’m itching to fuck someone up to
within an inch of their life.
“Guido Bastone phoned your uncle, and he was very, very upset.”
Salvatore comes up toward me but keeps his distance. “Apparently Arica
came home crying about the fact that you flaunted your girlfriend in front of
her.”
“I did nothing of the sort,” I say, still facing the window. “She came
around uninvited. And since we’re not formally engaged yet, I don’t see the
problem.”
“The problem, Neal, is that we have a deal with the Bastone’s and it
seems like you’re doing everything in your power to fuck it up for us.”
I swing around, rage pulsing through my veins. “The fuck I am. I have
done everything you’ve asked of me.” Staring at his smug face, I continue,
“There was never anything in the arrangement that said we are to enter into
a loving marriage.”
He walks over to the bar, pouring each of us a drink and handing me
one. “I know that, but that’s not to say that you can’t try with the girl.” He
takes a sip and gestures for me to do the same. He can probably see that I’m
on the point of breaking. “She’s a good catch Neal, this is in no way
detrimental to you or this Family, why can’t you see that?”
I down the drink and walk past him, reaching for my cigarettes. My
mind immediately goes to Amelia and her doing yoga here while smoking. I
throw the pack of cigarettes at the window, watching it bounce off and land
on the floor.
“I know why you made the deal with Guido, and I will uphold my end
of it.” I run my hands through my hair. “But there’s no fucking way I’m
playing devoted husband to a brat who runs to daddy when something
doesn’t go her way.”
 “Careful,” he says. “That girl has done nothing to you, she is willing to
stand up for her Family and marry you. You should be grateful.”
“Grateful?” Anger sears through me again. What the hell should I be
grateful for? The fact that I’m being tied to someone for the rest of my life?
And for what? Some weapons and a few soldiers? I am more than willing to
step up as Don of the Family, and somehow that means that I’m to be
subjected to an unhappy marriage to someone I didn’t choose.
“Yes.” Salvatore walks up toward me, getting into my personal space.
“And you better get in line. You’re going to cost us this deal. Your uncle
has already tried to repair the damage you’ve caused this afternoon.” He
rises to his full height, trying to intimidate me. “Guido wanted to call
everything off after he saw his daughter this afternoon, so your uncle
promised him that you will never see that girl again.” His voice is dripping
with disdain as he talks about Amelia. He takes another step, getting in my
face. “Are we clear?”
How dare this fucker try to intimidate me?
“Salvatore, if I were you, I’d get out of my face right this second.” My
voice is hard and cold. He’s got nothing to protect him, except the love of
my uncle, and right now it’s not enough to keep me from wanting to slit his
throat. “You forget your place, old man.”
He steps back, taken aback by my disregard of his position as
Consigliere. “You will listen to me, boy, these are orders from your uncle.
From your Il Capo!” He tries playing the Capo card, but it means nothing to
me. My anger is probably blinding my judgement, but I don’t fucking care.
I grab his hand and twist his arm, pressing his face against the window.
He squirms in my grip, but he can’t get free. I twist harder, earning a groan
of pain from him. I lean down, my voice deadly. “If you ever insinuate
again that I do not have my Family’s best interests in mind, I will cut out
your heart while you watch.” He tries to worm free, but I press him up
against the window, harder. “I will be Il Capo, and when that happens, you
will have to make damn sure you stay out of my way.”
“You can’t do anything to me, I’m your Consigliere.” His voice comes
out muffled as he’s pressed against the glass. He’s got no leg to stand on,
and he knows it. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to start a war.”
“And if you’re not careful, you’re going to die at my hand.” I release
him, brushing his trench coat, straightening him up. “So be careful,
Salvatore.” Smiling at him, I add, “I don’t take kindly to threats.”
 I motion towards the elevator. “Feel free to run back to Romero and
report.”
He backs up toward the elevator, keeping his eyes on me. “You’ve been
warned, Neal.”
I take my gun out of its holster and point it straight at his head. His eyes
widen and he puts up his hands. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“Get the fuck out of my house while you still can.” I cock the hammer
back as he retreats so fast back into the elevator he almost trips over his
trench coat. He shakily punches in the key code and waits for the doors to
close. Leaving without another word. He’s probably already on the phone
with my uncle and I couldn’t fucking care less.
I have to get this shit with the Irish sorted before they make me marry
that woman.
Tomorrow night, I’ll do just that.

∞∞∞

The job with Hunter and Amelia didn’t leave us totally empty-handed.
Even if I pulled her out of there before Flynn spilled some secrets, Hunter
was able to scout around and put a tail on him. We’ve been tracking his
movements, hoping he’ll lead us to Seamus. But apparently, they don’t see
each other as often as I’d hoped.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll get my answers from Flynn, and if not, I’ll blow
his fucking brains out. Killing the Underboss of the Irish Mob is a step in
the right direction. Even if my uncle is going to lose his shit over it. It’s
time I do things my way and I’m tired of waiting around to get shit done. I
dial Hunter’s number as I get into the elevator, checking that my knives are
concealed and my guns loaded.
“Where is Flynn?” I bark down the phone.
Hunter stays silent on the other end before answering, “I’d have to
check.”
“So fucking do it. I’m getting in my car now. Text me the address.” I
hang up the phone. It’s not even in my pocket yet, before it’s ringing again.
Hunter’s name is flashing on the screen.
“That was quick.”
 “Why do you want to know where he is?”
“Are you forgetting that I’m the Boss, Hunter?” My grip tightens on the
phone. “You don’t fucking question me.”
“That’s not what I’m doing, Boss.” He sighs. “You shouldn’t do
something stupid. Just give me a minute to get Killian and we’ll come with
you.”
“I don’t have time to wait around for you. I’m ending this tonight.” I get
in my car and slam the door. “Get me the fucking address, now.”
As I race out of the parking garage, Hunter texts me the address. Flynn
is at Éira again. It’s still early, so there won’t be other people there. He
probably uses it as a place of business during the day. The fact that there
won’t be witnesses to my visit is music to my ears. Not that I wouldn’t
shoot him in the middle of a restaurant, but it would be nice to not have to
deal with the police afterwards.
I park the car around the corner and make my way toward the front
door. No one will expect a potential threat to walk through the front door in
broad daylight. The club is empty except for a few topless girls practicing
dance routines on two different stages. In one of the private booths, Flynn is
lounged on one of the couches with a dancer grinding on his dick. His men
are too preoccupied with the naked women to notice me, making my way
over to their boss.
Plopping myself down on the seat across from him, I take a cigarette out
and light it. The smoke I blow out towards him and his hooker makes him
peer across her shoulder. Shock crosses his face before he shoves the
woman from his lap, going for his gun that’s lying on the table. Before he
can even bend over, the barrel of my gun is pressed against his forehead.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
He leans back on the couch, eyeing his gun, probably trying to calculate
if he’d be able to grab it before I shoot him.
“Sorry to interrupt your little rub-out party, Flynnie, but I have some
urgent business to discuss with you.” I lower my gun, but keep it pointed in
his direction.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the long-lost heir to the Irish Throne. Are you here
to claim your title, little prince?” He has an enthusiastic glint in his green
eyes. So much like mine.
This is the first time I’m face to face with my Irish family. All the
feelings about missed opportunities and a life that could have been different
is being drowned out by the anger and rage that has been building inside of
me my entire life. I no longer care who I have to kill to avenge my parents
and take my rightful place. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll take Flynn up on
his idea and take my Irish Throne too.
“Not in the way you think.” A chuckle escapes me, as I add, “When I
do, you won’t see me coming.”
“Promises, promises.” He reaches for his drink and I catch him looking
at his men. There are only five others in the room. An easy kill if I had to
get out of here. I’ve had to fight my way out of worse situations, and then I
didn’t have the anger raging in me that I have now.
Finishing this is my ticket to freedom, so nothing will stand in my way.
“Are you going to offer me something to drink? You’re being rude to
your guest.”
Flynn slaps the dancer’s ass next to him. “Go get it.”
She gets up, keeping a nervous eye on the gun I’m pointing at Flynn,
not sure whether or not she’ll make it out of here alive. Flynn’s men are
slowly moving toward us, placing themselves in strategic positions. I even
catch two of them moving toward the door to block my exit. The woman
returns and holds a glass of Scotch out to me, her hand shaking so much,
she almost spills it all over my lap. Pointing at the table with my cigarette,
she puts it down and gets out of there as quickly as she can.
“Rumor has it that you’ve got yourself a little Italian fiancée all lined
up. Don’t tell me she’s boring you already, that you have to come all the
way out here for a lap dance.” His mouth twists with satisfaction at the fact
that he knows what’s going in my life, and I didn’t even know he existed.
My blood pulses through my veins, as my heart beats in tune with my
rage. I feel like a fool for trusting my uncle to be honest with me about my
family. Turns out he only shared what he deemed necessary, as long as I
kept my head down and followed his orders.
No fucking more.
Trying not to show him how it irks me that he’s got one up on me, I
draw on my cigarette and give him a little smile. “I wouldn’t want to take
anything else away from you, Flynn. It might be all you have left at the end
of the day.”
From the corner of my eye, I see one of his men slowly removing his
gun from the waist of his pants. Before he even gets it out completely, one
of my knives is protruding from between his eyes. A trickle of blood
running down his face as he slumps to the floor with a loud thud.
Flynn puts up his hand, indicating to the others to stand down. “Haven’t
you Castellano’s slaughtered enough of our people?”
A cruel laugh escapes me. “I could ask you the same thing. It seems you
don’t even care if you kill some of your own in the process.”
A frown spreads on his face, clear confusion in his eyes. “Why would I
kill my own?”
“You tell me?” I can’t believe he’s sitting there and pretending that he
doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Unless Seamus never told him. He
was, after all, born after the whole ordeal with my parents.
“I don’t know what you think you know, Sanders. We’re all monsters
underneath, sure, but when it comes to family, we have each other’s backs.”
He leans forward, arms on his knees, eyeing my reaction to his words. I
didn’t miss the emphasis he placed on family.
“So, it’s just me that doesn’t apply to? Me and my mother?”
A loud crash sounds from the front door, both of us jump up and see
Hunter and Killian standing there. Guns pointing at Flynn and his men.
“Don’t tell me you started the party without us?” Killian’s voice booms
through the room, his face spread in a manic smile. Hunter is straight faced,
not taking his eyes off Flynn for a second.
I turn to Flynn, seeing defeat on his face. He knows they won’t get out
of here alive with the three of us. “Tell me what you want, Sanders, and be
on your way.”
I let out a chuckle. “You think that’s how this is going to work?”
He must think me insane if he thinks I’m letting him go. He’s my ticket
to getting out of this contract, my ticket to getting the life I want with
Amelia. My ticket to vengeance.
I nod my head.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Four shots, four men.
Flynn’s men fall in under two seconds, and he’s the only one left
standing. I get up and straighten my jacket. “Are you coming, or are you
going to make me ruin my suit?”
“Fuck you, cousin.” His voice is dripping with venom as he refers to me
as his cousin. I guess I’m not surprised. He wouldn’t be family, if he came
willingly. A part of me fills with pride, knowing I’d do exactly the same in
his position.
 Pointing my gun at his leg, I shoot him twice before knocking him
unconscious.
Now, Seamus will have to come to me.
 Chapter 21
Amelia

After Killian drops me off at my apartment, I head straight to my

room. I don’t want to see Olivia and Liz or explain to them what happened.
Not yet, anyway.
After a while Liz calls through the door. “We’re leaving, babe. Call me
if you need anything.” With the front door clicking shut as they go, they
leave me alone in the chaos that is my mind.
On our way over, Killian tried to talk to me about what happened with
Neal, but I didn’t want to discuss it with him. I don’t want to discuss it with
anybody. I want to slap that bitch in the face as hard as I can, right after I
kick Neal in the balls.
Why didn’t I just do that? Fuck, I always come up with this stuff when
it’s too late.
I walk into my bathroom, and start pulling off Neal’s clothes,
scrunching them up and throwing them on the floor. I make sure to step on
them and grind my heel on them for good measure.
Fucking asshole.
How dare he treat me like this? Yes, we didn’t make anything official,
and he kept telling me we couldn’t be together. But time and time again he
came after me, when he knew he was engaged.
He is fucking engaged!
I step under the scalding hot water, wanting to scrub off every place he’s
ever touched me. Tears start running down my face, mixing with the water
as it washes down my body. I never want to wash away his touch, but I’m
so angry and hurt, I can’t even think straight.
Why am I even crying?
Scrubbing until my skin feels raw, until I can focus on the burn and not
on the ache in my heart, I pretend like I can wash it all away. But none of it
helps, Neal has become a permanent part of me. Somehow, in such a short
time, he has managed to capture my whole heart.
I get out and wrap a towel around my body, wishing that it was his arms
around me instead. Neal’s clothes are still lying crumpled up on the floor,
and this time I step over them and head toward my bed. As I slide down
against it, all my anger dissipates, replaced by disappointment. I pull my
knees up against my chest and rest my head on them, my tears flowing
freely.
How could he lie to me like this?
We never talked about what was happening between us, we didn’t really
have a chance after the weekend. But I know he feels the same. I know he
feels the connection we have. To find out like this, with her telling me… it
was humiliating.
I take a few breaths to steady myself and decide there’s nothing a
cigarette and a bottle, or four, of wine couldn’t fix. Or at least lull for a
while.
I will not fall apart because of Neal fucking Sanders.
Just as I look up, I see him standing in my doorway, his head tilted as he
watches me. His features a mix of fascination and amusement as he assesses
me.
Romero Castellano.
He’s dressed up in his tailored suit, the same as the last time I saw him,
his hair and beard perfect. He’s got a wicked smile on his face as he eyes
me, like he’s just won the lottery. I get up, clutching the towel to my body,
hyper aware that I’m naked and alone and this man is blocking my way out
of this room.
“Mr. Castellano, what are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“Ah, the lovely Amelia,” he says, ignoring my questions, his eyes
roaming my body and I can see a spark of lust in them. “How appropriate
that I should find you without your clothes. It seems that my assumptions
about you are correct after all.”
He steps forward and I attempt to step back, but my legs bump against
the bed.
Shit, no place to go.
“What are you talking about?” I must keep him talking, because there’s
no way he missed my attempted retreat. He has a certain look in his eyes.
Like a predator who has just smelled blood.
“It seems that you’ve been distracting my nephew with your wiles, and
lo-and-behold, here you are, proving me right.” He takes another step
forward. “If you want to use your body to enrapture men, just say the word.
We’ve got more than enough brothels to stick you in.”
 “Go fuck yourself,” I bite out. “I’m not a whore.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a grin. “That temper will get you in
trouble, but I’m sure after a few rounds with some of the men, you’ll find
yourself to be more complacent.”
I try to move around the bed, to get to the bedside table. Looking
around, I try to find something, anything, to defend myself with if need be.
He might just be trying to intimidate me, but I don’t trust him not to harm
me. If I can at least get to my phone, I’d be able to call for help.
“Just know that I could also offer you a position. I have an opening for a
new mistress, and you’ll fit in just nicely.” He looks me up and down, his
eyes making me feel like the towel is not covering me up at all. “Yes, I’d
like to see you spread open in front of me. To see what my nephew is so
taken with.” He tilts his head again. “What all the fuss is about.”
I back up a little, bumping against the bedside table, my phone falling to
the floor. Trying to put as much steel in my voice as possible, I say, “Don’t
you dare touch me.”
But my reaction only seems to spur him on.
He moves forward again, effectively blocking me against the bedside
table. I stay straightened up, not backing down in the slightest. I will not be
weak in the face of the devil himself. Romero runs a finger along my collar
bone and skims the top of the towel. My skin crawls at his touch, a chill
running through me as I shiver.
A small smile forms on his lips. “Oh, but you belong to me now,
remember? I will touch you, Amelia, and you’ll beg for more.”
“I am not available to you or your brothels, Romero. You can shove
your little proposition right up your Italian ass.” I know it was a mistake the
moment I said it, I shouldn’t provoke him any further. He grabs my arm and
spins me around, pinning me to the bedside table with enough force so I
feel the edge of it pressing into my skin.
His erection is hard against me as he leans forward and whispers in my
ear. “You will stay away from Neal.”
I try to squirm free, but he tightens his grip, pressing into me harder.
“He is engaged to be married, and it’s important to our Family that he sees
this deal through.”
He runs his free hand up my thigh, inching the towel higher. “If you
step out of line, Amelia, you will have to deal with me.” He cups my ass
with his hand as he runs his tongue along my neck. “And I will not be
gentle with you.”
He steps back and releases me before he walks towards the door. I
straighten up and turn to see him leaving my room. I move to the door and
make sure he leaves the apartment. As he reaches the front door, he turns
and adjusts himself in his pants. “It’s been a pleasure, Amelia.”
When he leaves, I run to the door and lock it. Sagging against it, I pray
this day will just end.

∞∞∞

I haven’t heard anything from Neal.

It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I met his fiancée, and I haven’t
gotten so much as a text from him. Even if this marriage is a requirement
for Neal to be able to take over, I still deserve an explanation as to why he
lied to me. I do not appreciate being used while someone else has a right to
him. Romero hinted at this being some sort of agreement, but I definitely
wasn’t going to ask him to elaborate. I just wanted him out of my apartment
without getting physically assaulted in some way. To think things could’ve
been so much worse yesterday. I really am lucky that Romero decided to
leave me with a threat rather than…
I don’t even want to think about it.
Next time, I’ll be ready for him. As things stand now, I can only assume
that Neal won’t be able to help me with training anymore. I’ll just have to
find someone else to show me. Maybe Killian could help me, now that he’s
at the apartment so often. Or even Hunter. I’m an Associate after all, I’m
sure that comes with the right to make use of the Capos?
My mind swirling with ways I could possibly rope someone into
training me to fight, I didn’t see Dwayne approach me on my way to the last
class of the day. Thankfully, his voice pulls my thoughts away from Romero
Castellano and Neal’s pending nuptials.
“Amelia?” His hands are full, two cups of coffee in one and a brown
paper bag in the other.
“You can’t be serious? Is he still paying you to keep an eye on me?” I
look around, not sure what I expect to see. Perhaps other guards hiding
behind trees with funny little earpieces, reporting my every move back to
Neal. I can’t think of a time when my life didn’t include seemingly all the
members of the Castellano Crime Family.
“No, I came to apologize.” He hands me the coffee, and gestures toward
a bench not far off from where we’re standing. “Please, can we talk?”
Sighing, I nod while taking the coffees from him as we walk to the
bench together.
“So, did you get a bonus for scoring an invitation to my mother’s
wedding?” I take a sip of coffee, which is actually pretty damn good. I
might be pissed at Dwayne, but I’ll never turn down a great cup of coffee.
He shakes his head while looking down into his cup. “It’s not like that.”
“Then please tell me what it’s like. Because I have been lied to and
humiliated and quite frankly, I’m fucking sick of it.” The permanent pit of
anger inside of me is stirring again and I know Dwayne isn’t the one to
blame for any of this, but right now he’s the one who’s here.
“I was just following orders at first. I’m good at my job.” He looks up.
“And I’ve never fucked up before. That’s why I got this gig.” Realizing
what he just said, he turns toward me, holding up a hand. “Not that you’re a
‘gig’ or anything, it’s just -”
“It’s fine, Dwayne,” I cut him off. “I’m the gig. You did your job. I get
it.” I stare ahead, taking another sip of coffee, expecting him to get up and
leave. What more is there to say?
“That’s just it. You’re not just a job to me, Amelia.” He is nervously
twirling his coffee cup between his hands. “It might’ve started out that way,
but I’ve gotten to know you, and I really enjoy your company.”
I peek at him, not knowing where he is going with this, and not
knowing if I should wait it out or bolt. Before I can decide, he continues,
“You’re smart, witty, absolutely fucking beautiful.” He chuckles as he looks
at me. “And hanging out with you hasn’t felt like a job for a second.”
Studying him, I try to figure out what exactly he just said, if he means
what I think he means. “Dwayne...”
“That’s why I brought this.” He bends over to pick up the brown paper
bag he set down at his feet and hands it to me. “I thought you would like it,
as an apology, if you’re game that is.”
I open the bag and peek inside. I couldn’t help the smile that forms as I
take out two bottles of tequila. At least it’s not chocolates, flowers and some
kind of love declaration. “What’s the plan here, Tarantino?”
 His eyes crinkle as he flashes a wicked smile. “I thought we could go
back to your place, and play a round of Truth or Dare? And obviously
drink.”
“Is this your way of trying to even the playing field, because I won’t be
gentle.”
He laughs. “Oh, I don’t expect you to be.”
It sounds like exactly what I need. Drinking tequila and getting to know
Dwayne for real. It’s refreshing in a way, no more lying from at least one of
the members of the Family. So, I must know…
“What about your orders to guard me? Is your job completed?”
“I haven’t gotten any official orders as to what happens from here on
out, so I’m going to continue what I do.” He takes my hand and looks at
me. “But know this. Even if it wasn’t my job to protect you, I’d still want to
hang out with you.”
Seeing his eyes, I know he means what he says, and it means the world
to me. Even though I hate the fact that he’s still protecting me and keeping
an eye on me for Neal, I feel like Dwayne is being sincere. I’ve really loved
spending time with him, and I do consider him a friend.
“Right then,” I say, packing everything back into the bag. “Let’s skip
the last class and start drinking.”
With the afternoon sun gleaming in his light hair, he gestures for me to
walk ahead.
“Lead the way.”

∞∞∞

As we arrive at the apartment Dwayne heads to the living room,

grabbing the cushions from the couches and flinging them on the ground.
“I’m getting this started, while you get the glasses.” He takes out both
bottles of tequila, holding them up toward me. “Which one first?”
I take out two shot glasses and head toward him. “Does it really matter?
They’ll both be empty before the day is over.”
He chuckles. “Patron it is.”
As he opens the bottle, he keeps his back to me. “What are you going to
do now? You know, with everything with Neal?”
 “Shouldn’t you ask me ‘Truth or Dare’ first?” I plop down on the
cushions on the floor, getting comfy, determined to let go after all the shit
that’s happened.
He rolls his eyes as he sits down next to me and pours each of us a shot.
“Truth or Dare?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. It is what it is.” I sigh, the feeling
of dread in my stomach not dissipating in the least. “Give me the damn
shot, anyway.”
He hands it to me and I down it, not able to control my face pulling at
the sharp taste sliding down my throat. “Fuck, I needed that.”
“Would you leave?” Dwayne asks, his eyes wide as he takes in my
reaction.
“You’re cheating,” I say, handing him a shot. “If you insist on asking
more questions out of turn, you have to drink.”
He takes it from me and downs it, before refilling our glasses.
“Seriously though, would you consider it?”
A small chuckle escapes me. “I think that ship sailed the day I signed
the contract. Now, I’m forever tied to Neal… and his fiancée.” I take
another shot. “Until Romero sets me free, which I doubt will happen.”
He looks at me, his brows furrowed. “Why do you say that? Did
something happen?”
I hand him another shot for asking questions out of turn, and he downs
it. The tequila is already affecting me. Not looking at him, I answer, “He
was here yesterday.”
“Fuck, what did he want?” I guess he suspects that having the Don pay
you a private visit is definitely not a good thing. I stare at him with my
brows raised, since he’s clearly throwing the game out the window. I hand
him the bottle of tequila and he takes a few sips before he looks at me
again.
“What did he want?” he asks more firmly this time.
“Well, it seems that he wants,” I look up at him, “me.” I take the bottle
from him and take a few sips. “Or at least he wants to use me in some way.
He said he’d put me in a brothel, or I could be his mistress if I want.”
“Amelia.” Dwayne puts his arm around me and pulls me closer. “Look
at me.” He turns my head toward him, searching my eyes. “Did he hurt
you?”
 I shake my head. “No, it didn’t get that far. But I know if there’s a next
time, I will definitely not be as lucky.”
He pulls me in close, hugging me, and I find myself grateful for his
company and support.
“Enough about that asshole of a man.” I pull back and pick up the bottle
of tequila, handing it to him. “Pour us some more so we can play for real.”
He takes it from me, an unsure smile on his face. “You still want to?
Don’t you want some privacy or something.”
“For fuck sakes, Dwayne. Don’t worry about me.” I roll my eyes at him.
“I don’t break that easily.”
He nods and pours us each another one. “Gotcha. I’ve got a truth for
you.”
“I didn’t even ask you yet?”
“Well, you’re getting it all the same.” He takes a shot as punishment for
breaking the rules again. “I’m always here for you. Regardless of any work
orders. If something happens, or you need someone, please know that I’m
here.”
I don’t think he’ll ever understand how much this means to me at this
moment. “I really appreciate it.” I give him a kiss on the cheek and put a
smile back on my face. “Although I don’t think you know how this game
works.”
He laughs and hands me the other shot. “Okay, fine. Let’s play for real.”
By the time we’ve made our way through more than half the bottle, we
were laughing so hard, I swear I almost wet my pants. This is exactly the
release I need. The door clicks shut, causing us to look up, hardly able to
see who it is through blurry eyes from all the laughter and alcohol.
“This looks like a party.” Liz comes closer, looking like she’s been out
to some club again. “Can we join you? But if this is going to turn into some
weird foursome, tell me now, so we can leave.”
I try to see if there’s someone behind her. “We?”
Before she could answer, Killian appears. He’s wearing his favorite
leather jacket, with a cigarette in his mouth. At the sight of him, Dwayne
jumps up and brushes down his clothes, stepping away from me in the
process.
“What’s up, Tarantino?” Killian asks Dwayne. “Are you moving in on
the Boss’s girl?”
 “No,” Dwayne answers. “Sir, I’m just doing what I was assigned to do.
Nothing more.” Before he can try to explain any further, I cut him off.
“What the fuck, Killian? I’m not the Boss’s anything.” I glare at him.
“And put out that cigarette. We smoke upstairs.”
“Neal will kill him if he so much as looks at you.” Killian looks at
Dwayne and gestures toward him with his still lit cigarette. “And he knows
it.”
“He’s got a fiancée to worry about, I don’t think what I do is any
concern of his.” I point at him. “Put out the cigarette now, Killian, or it’s
going up your ass.”
“Geez, what’s up your ass?” he says, walking towards the kitchen to put
out the cigarette in the sink. “I thought having a sex-filled weekend away
would ease the tension a bit.” He walks back over to me. “Besides, Neal’s
got more than just a fiancée to worry about.”
I frown at him. “What are you talking about?”
He smiles like he’s privy to some big secret. “Oh, let’s just say he
caught himself a little fish. Well, it’s a big fish. A big Irish fish.”
I know I had a lot to drink tonight, but did he just say something about
fish? “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“We picked up Flynn this morning.”
I get up, feeling fuzzy around the edges and struggling to get my footing
right. Dwayne reaches out and helps me stand up straight. As he realizes
he’s touching me, he quickly removes his hands from me as he glances at
Killian.
“Picked up? You make it sound like you took him out for ice-cream.” I
chuckle at my own joke. “Did you kill him?”
“No, we’re keeping him at…” Killian trails off and looks between Liz
and Dwayne. “Maybe we should do this in private.”
I follow his gaze and realize he doesn’t want them to know what they
did to Flynn. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, Amelia. And as the Capo here -”
“Oh, stop with the Capo bullshit. If someone tries to pull rank on me
again, I might explode.” I walk toward him, albeit a bit drunkenly, poking
my finger in his chest. “I’ll tell them anyway, so you might as well spill.”
He sighs heavily. “Fine.” He pokes me right back. “But you’re
explaining this to Neal.”
 I scoff at Killian. “As if I owe Neal any kind of explanation. He’s the
one who owes me one.”
“Wait.” Liz heads toward the bottle of Tequila and pours herself a drink
before making herself comfortable on the couch. Dwayne is blocking her
view of me and Killian, so she uses her foot to slightly move him out of the
way. “Okay, continue.”
Dwayne looks at her incredulously, before getting his own drink.
As Killian rolls his eyes, he starts explaining. “We’re keeping him at
one of the estates. But I think that maybe we could actually use your help.”
“Why?”
“Aren’t you a nurse or something?”
“Yes?” I frown at him. “But I think you might be confused as to what
my training entails. They didn’t teach us how to imprison Mafia criminals.”
He gives a fake laugh. “You’re not funny,” he says in a sing-song voice.
“So, what do you want me to do then, Killian? Spit it out.” I’m growing
impatient. First, he ruins my evening with Dwayne. Which was supposed to
be my time to unwind and relax, to get away from all this Mafia shit
following me around. And now he’s pulling me right back in.
“Neal shot him, and we can’t have our only lead bleed out before he
gives us what we need, now can we?” He walks toward the door and grabs
his keys. “Come.”
“What? I’m not a surgeon. And my blood volume is half tequila right
now.” He walks over and grabs me by the arm, pulling me toward the door.
“You only need to patch him up and I’ll get you some coffee on the
way.” He points at Dwayne. “Tarantino, you’re coming too.”
I pull my arm from his grip. “Wait, will Neal be there?”
“No, he can’t know that I brought you there.”
“Perfect,” I smile up at him. “Let’s go.”
 Chapter 22
Neal

I’ve been summoned to my uncle’s house.

I hope he hasn’t figured out that I took Flynn captive and that he’s
currently chained up at my residence upstate. I took precautions so that this
can’t get back to him in some way. The only people that know about Flynn
are me, Hunter and Killian, and I’d like to keep it that way until we have
what we need. I can’t risk Romero finding out and ruining my plans
because he’s gotten it into his head that we should wait until after the
wedding. His insistence on prolonging this is making me antsy.
Why does he want to wait, when our vengeance is within our reach?
We normally work as a team, my decisions and instincts usually not that
far off from my uncle’s. But since the engagement, everything has felt
different. Like he’s trying more than usual to push me in a certain direction,
and I’m no longer sure that he’s above using me to get what he wants.
Upon entering his office, he’s not behind his desk as usual, instead he’s
at the bar, pouring drinks already. Without looking at me, he says in a
clipped voice, “Sit down.”
I undo the buttons on my jacket and sit down in the chair I always
prefer. The office smells of rum and maple tobacco as always, but the air is
tinged with something different. Taking out a cigarette, I light it, leaning on
the arm of the chair as I wait for him to start.
He turns around, his face hard as he hands me a drink, I take it from him
and thank him by nodding.
And then I wait.
Usually, my uncle is all about business, his enjoyment thereof always
clearly written on his face. That is not the case today. His mouth is
twitching as he tries to keep his composure before he addresses me.
“Neal.” His voice is soft and deadly as he rounds his desk to sit in his
chair. “You’ve fucked up.”
He pinches the bridges of his nose as he closes his eyes. He downs his
drink and slams his glass on the table. He swings his arm, hitting the glass
off the table, shattering it against the wall.
 “I thought I told you to stay away from that girl. Now, I’ve got Guido
Bastone breathing down my neck, all because of you and your dick.”
I take a sip of my drink, watching the smoke trail from the tip of my
cigarette as it rises into the air. I’m not going to let his little show of
frustration affect me. If anything, I’m enjoying the fact that he gets to feel
the same level of irritation I felt a couple of weeks ago, when he upended
my entire life.
“If I’m not mistaken, Uncle, you’re the one who started mixing my
personal life with business when you insisted I marry the Bastone girl.” I
draw deeply from my cigarette. “Did you honestly think my dick wasn’t
part of the deal where marriage was involved.”
He huffs at my insolence. “So why aren’t you shoving it into your
fiancée? Instead of running around with some whore who is only causing
our Family problems.” He’s trying to bait me, I know it. He wants me to
show that I care for Amelia, he’s trying to make his point. I won’t give him
the fucking satisfaction of owning up to anything.
“You told me marrying Arica doesn’t mean I couldn’t find someone else
to warm my bed, so what the fuck is the difference?”
“The difference is, the Bastone Family is an asset to ours. We need
them.” He continues through gritted teeth, “So there’s a certain way to
handle these delicate matters, without risking our deal with them.”
He opens his drawer with so much force I can hear the contents rattling,
before he takes out his pipe. “You can’t go around parading that slut in front
of the woman you’re supposed to marry. It’s bad form.” He finishes stuffing
his pipe before lighting it, filling the room with the familiar smell.
Tonight, however, it seems to be choking me.
I can’t help but scoff at his weak excuse, like he’s ever worried about
‘bad form’ when it comes to mistresses. He’s been bringing them into this
house, in front of my aunt for years, and she’s never allowed to so much as
glance in their direction.
Because it’s not her place. Because he is the Don.
It doesn’t apply to me now, because it interferes with his business deals.
He doesn’t want me to shuffle the little chess board he’s been setting up. It’s
fucking infuriating. He wants me to be the Don, on his time and on his
terms.
“So, what do you suggest, Uncle?” I ask tersely.
 I’m so fucking irritated, I’m itching to just get up and leave. He’s never
bossed me around like he’s done the last couple of weeks, and I don’t like it
when people tell me what to do. But I have to stick it out a little longer. I
can’t do anything other than work with Romero until I get what I want.
There is one way around everything, and that is if I kill him. But Family has
always been important to me, I don’t want to lose or alienate the only
people I have left.
“What’s done is done,” he says, getting up and pouring himself another
drink. “Just don’t go doing anything stupid behind my back, Piccolo.” He
turns and looks at me, an amusing glint in his eyes. “If you keep going at
the Irish, we might need the Bastone’s sooner than we thought.”
I start shaking my head. “No, I’m not marrying her sooner than I have
to.” I get up, lighting another cigarette. “You can’t make me move up this
fucking wedding. I refuse.” I’ve never refused orders from him. Never. I’ve
killed, I’ve maimed, I’ve tortured at his command. But I won’t yield on this.
I’m at the end of my rope. I can’t deal with this wedding looming over me
like a fucking never ending storm.
“You started this thing, Neal, there’s a chance that the Irish will retaliate
sooner rather than later, and then what will we do? We need Guido.”
“No,” I say curtly.
“If not that, then you need to show Arica and her father, you mean
business.” He walks to the edge of his desk and leans against it. “That little
stunt you pulled the other day, letting Arica meet Amelia.” He looks me in
the eye. “That hurt us. You have to fix it. We need them.”
He pushes off the edge. “And since you’re going to have to convince
your soon-to-be father-in-law that you need his soldiers and weapons
sooner than we thought, before any wedding has taken place,” he huffs,
“you better get to fucking work.”
My uncle only knows about the night at the club with Flynn and already
he’s using it to move up this shit show of a wedding. What would happen if
he found out that I have Flynn as a prisoner? My mind immediately goes to
Amelia. He’d definitely find a way to take it out on her, I have no doubt
about it. Feeling this way about her has only added danger to her life. If this
continues, I’ll be her ruin. Her death.
I can’t. I’m going to have to give her up.
“This week is your engagement party. You’re going to propose and
you’re going to make it fucking believable.” His face breaks into a wicked
grin. “And don’t forget Arica’s little performance for you tonight. She has
to present herself to you at Mavericks.”
Fuck, I forgot about the whole thing.
“Neal, you’re going to enjoy what she offers you. And you’re going to
put on a big show about not being able to control yourself with her.” His
excitement about the whole ordeal is clear on his face. “Her father better
believe that you only have eyes for his little virgin daughter. Do I make
myself clear?”
The truth of the matter hits me like a ton of bricks, and I’m flooded with
defeat. I down my drink and put out my cigarette before I turn around to
leave. I have nothing more to say.
His stern voice makes me stop at the door. “I said, do I make myself
clear?”
I peer at him over my shoulder. My uncle looks at me with daggers in
his eyes, daring me to fuck this up again. “You’ll get your fucking show,
Romero, don’t worry about it.” I turn toward the door and leave.
I walk out of his office and rush to the front door. I want to get out of
this place as soon as possible. This is all a load of bullshit. My hand
tightens around the door handle when I hear someone calling me. I turn
around with what I’m sure is a murderous expression on my face and see
Aunt Katherine coming my way.
“Neal, I wasn’t aware that you were here.” She looks genuinely happy
to see me. I drop my gaze and try to shove down my frustration, I don’t
need to be taking it out on the woman who has stepped into the role as my
mother, without so much as a word about it.
As she reaches me, she places an arm around me, pulling me back into
the house. She reaches up and places a kiss on my cheek. “Please don’t go
yet, I have something for you.”
“I’m sorry, Zia, but I have some business to attend to.” I’m sure she can
see right through me and my pathetic excuses.
She puts on a smile while she keeps leading me back into the house.
“It’ll only take a minute of your time.”
As we reach the sunroom, I’m blinded by the brightness. Floor to
ceiling windows fill the room, and the result is a surplus of light and
sunshine. It’s filled with modern furniture and a few choice potted plants for
a touch of life. It’s the brightest room in this place and was given to my aunt
for her own particular use. No one bothers her when she's here. Her own
little sanctuary from Romero Castellano.
“Please have a seat, I’ll just ask Marisol to get us some refreshments.”
She gets up and walks toward the door, talking to Marisol in the
hallway. Marisol never leaves her side, and I sometimes wonder if she’s my
aunt’s only real friend. The one on the inside who really understands what
it’s like for the wife of a Don. She rejoins me and takes a seat opposite me,
and her face starts to show a bit of concern.
“I know you’ve been put under a lot of pressure, Neal.”
I nod, not saying anything else. What would it help anyway? She
doesn’t have my uncle’s ear and at this point in the game, nothing short of a
miracle is going to make him change his plans.
“An arranged marriage is never easy. I know Romero will tell you that
it’s not difficult at all, but I’ve always known you to care more about the
sanctity of a union than your uncle.”
Marisol appears with tea and coffee and places it on the table between
us. “Thank you, Marisol.” She gives me a warm smile and hands me my
cup. I take it from her and take a sip as she leaves the room.
“Yes, that’s true Zia.” I glance up at her. “But I guess I wasn’t meant to
find someone on my own. A business arrangement seems to benefit
everyone more, so why not do it that way?”
She sighs, her blue eyes turning soft when she looks at me. “Because
my dear, matters of the heart have nothing to do with business. Love isn’t a
transaction between two people, to see who can benefit more out of the
deal. It’s total surrender, giving everything you have and expecting nothing
in return.” She furrows her brow. “Now does that sound like a business
transaction to you.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I wish it were that simple, I’d give anything to not
have to do this. “But unfortunately, the decisions and the deals have been
made, and I have no way to back out of it.”
“I have to admit,” she sighs and looks down into her cup of tea. “The
chances of this not happening are next to none. I’ve spoken to Romero
about it, and he’s pretty adamant about you marrying Arica.”
I appreciate the fact she tried to reason with him.. Even though it’s been
a tradition within Mafia Families for decades, it feels good to know that she
would want something more for me.
 “I have to propose to her on Friday.” I set my cup down, feeling the
weight of what I have to do. I have done some pretty fucked up things in
my life, without hesitation. But having to tie myself to someone, for
business reasons, doesn’t sit right with me. I suppose I don’t have a choice
so I might as well try to get everything I can out of it.
“I know, I’m hosting the party at the Hamptons house.” Her face is
filled with contentment and resolve. “I have waited for the day you’ll be
married for a long time, Neal. And it makes me happy to know that you’ll
have someone to spend your life with.” She reaches over to the end table
next to the couch and retrieves a small navy box from it. I don’t know why I
didn’t notice it when we sat down.
“This isn’t your ideal situation, but it’s the one you’re in. All that I ask
is that you try with Arica, she’ll be by your side in everything you do.
Being the wife of a Don is no easy feat, and it takes a special kind of
woman to be up to the task.”
I nod along, not thinking about Arica, but about Amelia, and how she’d
be perfect by my side.
My aunt opens the little box and shows me its contents. “It was your
mother’s”.
I reach out and, with all the care in the world, remove the ring from the
box. It’s an engagement ring. It’s simple and elegant, it’s absolutely
beautiful. “How did you..?” My throat constricts before I could even finish
the sentence.
“It was found with her belongings when your uncle found them all those
years ago. I asked to keep this ring, knowing that maybe one day you’ll
want to give it to your wife.” She looks at me with sadness in her eyes.
“Your parents were so happy together, they genuinely loved one another.
That is not something that always happens in arranged marriages, but they
found it.” She reaches over and closes my hand around the ring. “And that’s
my hope for you too, Neal.”
“Thank you, Zia.” I peer down at my hand and the treasure I hold
within. “How can I ever…”
She holds up her hands. “Please, you were always meant to have it.” I
open my hand, looking at the beautiful ring inside, and I can’t help but think
how beautiful it would look on Amelia’s hand.

∞∞∞
 “So, I can see on your face that you’re totally cool with losing a night’s
worth of income on this shit.”
Killian is sitting next to me in my usual booth on the third floor at
Mavericks. This is usually the section reserved for the higher paying
clientele. Those who reach deep into their pockets for more time with their
favorite girl on the floor. Hunter is on my other side, with a bottle of Scotch
in his hand, pouring us drinks. It saves us having to call on a waitress to
refill, and this way we can get through this ordeal a lot quicker. Or at least a
lot less sober.
I give Killian a look that says now is not the time to be making jokes,
before I turn toward Hunter. “Is the security sorted?”
The club has been closed down to the public for the night. Extra
security has also been arranged, since a lot of high-ranking Family
members will be attending the event. We haven’t had an event like this in a
while, since most men in the Family are already married. The others are
hardly eligible, and those who are, are having too much fun sleeping
around. Like Killian and Hunter. Although, I suspect that’s beginning to
change.
The last one was one of my uncle’s Capos, three years ago, and then we
held it on the second floor. Tonight, we moved to a more secure location
since we’ve got two Families’ Dons in the same place. It would be easy
pickings if enemies decided to attack tonight. So, we’re on high alert.
“Yes, we’ve got extra men on the second floor with the rest of the
Family members.” Hunter assures me as he refills my glass a third time.
“No doubt they’re enjoying everything Maverick’s has to offer.” Killian
says with a wicked grin on his face. The high-ranking Capos and some of
their best soldiers are filling the second floor, enjoying the women and the
alcohol I’m supposedly sponsoring tonight. I have half a mind to send my
uncle the bill, since this was all his idea.
“So now that Liz has got your nuts rolling around in her purse, you’re
suddenly allergic to other women?” Hunter asks him. The corner of my
mouth lifts slightly, but I’m not in the mood for their joking around tonight.
My mind is preoccupied with Flynn, and how I can use him to get out of
this contract. Killian reaches behind me and slaps him behind the head,
making him choke on his drink.
“Why so grim brother?” He slaps me on the shoulder. “In a few
moments you’ll be enjoying a beautiful woman presenting herself to you on
a silver platter.”
I toss back another drink. Perhaps if I drink enough, I’ll be able to give
them a better show of my ‘appreciation’ for Arica.
“I see some others are also enjoying what’s on offer tonight.” Hunter
nods his head in the direction of the booth against the wall. The room is
dimly lit since the stage in the middle of the room is supposed to be the
only focus point of the evening. But not even the lighting can hide the fact
that my uncle and Guido are both enjoying the company of a naked woman.
Arica’s brother is in the next booth over, with two women on either side of
him. I guess Guido and his son are not too worried about what Arica is
about to do. Their focus is solely on the women at their disposal.
I stare at my uncle, and his eyes are unrelenting, as the woman between
his legs is giving his cock special attention. I guess he wants the same type
of display from me.
I’ll give him his fucking show. It might make Guido think twice about
giving me his daughter.
Killian leans over and whispers in my ear. “Just relax, brother. Get
through this, then it’s onto bigger things.” His phone lights up and he gets
up to take a call.
I don’t look at him as I answer, “Right you are.”
I want to get this over with, so I can go to the estate and have a talk with
Flynn. I haven’t seen him since we left him there and I think spending a day
hanging by chains, bleeding from gunshot wounds, will make him more
eager to talk.
The lights go out just as a spotlight focuses on the stage. A set of high
heels appear, walking slowly on the beat of the music. As she reaches the
pole, the lights move upward, along her long legs, covered in stockings,
until it reaches the suspenders and lace panties. She turns around giving all
of us a view of her tanned ass as she drops to the floor, coming up slowly
while moving her hips. The light moves further up, over her hair, dark as
night. She turns around and Arica faces the room, her eyes searching until
she finds me. She gives me a wicked grin as she makes her way over to my
table.
 Killian retakes his seat and shuffles uncomfortably next to me. He clears
his throat as if he wants to say something to me.
“What the fuck is going on, Killian?” I ask him, my focus not entirely
on Arica.
Before he can answer me, Arica comes up to our table, crawling over it
towards me. This is not the traditional way, and she knows it. It’s supposed
to be a seductive dance, the woman trying to lure her man in, making him
come to her. I guess that just shows that she doesn’t really care for the
practice. She’s here to make a fucking point.
Hunter leans in and discreetly whispers in my ear. “We have an
emergency.”
Nodding slightly, I don’t take my eyes off Arica. She takes my chin and
lifts my face toward hers as she lowers her mouth to mine. I’m aware of
Romero and Guido watching closely, waiting for me to fuck up in some
way. So I open my mouth to hers, kissing her back.
Her lips are strange against mine, her tongue invading my mouth feels
foreign. She tastes like mint and cranberries and I find myself craving the
vanilla taste of Amelia’s skin. As she breaks the kiss, she looks at me with a
gleam in her eyes. “You like that, mm?”
Staring at her, I force a coy smile on my face. I pull her toward me,
gripping her ass and placing her on my lap, her legs spread around me. A
gasp escapes from her lips, as I press her back over the table, making a
show of rubbing her breasts through the lace. This makes her grind against
my cock and I dare a glimpse at the Dons table, seeing them nodding with
approval.
I get up and throw her over my shoulder, slapping her ass as part of the
show. A round of cheers sound through the room, as I make my way across
the room. I pull her suspenders and they snap back against her thighs,
causing her to release a loud moan.
“Sorry gents,” I say gripping my cock, that isn’t even semi-hard after
that little show. “I have some business to attend to.” Another roar of cheers
erupts from the crowd along with a few obscenities from some of the men.
They wanted a fucking show.
As we walk through the door, into one of the backrooms, I set her down
and step back. She tries to come at me, but I grip her wrists and look down
at her. Her hair is all tousled, her nipples erect from the attention they
received, and she has a look of pure excitement on her face. She tilts her
head up toward me, opening her mouth slightly.
“That was all for show, Ric.” I release her and take out my phone. “This
is never going to happen.”
Her face shifts from excitement to disbelief, to pure unadulterated hate
in a matter of seconds.
She steps closer and slaps me across the face, my head whipping to the
side from the impact. “You’re a fucking bastard.”
I did not expect that, but I guess I’ll give her that one.
“That might be true, but not in this case, Arica.” My phone vibrates in
my pocket, and I read the text from Hunter, ignoring the sting on my face.
“A bastard would have fucked you, anyway.”
She folds her arms over her chest, not convinced that she got the better
end of the deal.
“You’ll be sorry you treated me like this.” She practically hisses at me.
But I don’t have time for this, there’s an emergency.
I turn around walking back toward the door. Hunter cleared out the
room so I could leave without being noticed, making it seem like we
wanted some privacy. I dial his number, and he answers immediately.
“What’s the problem?” I ask, hoping it’s not the Irish coming to look for
Flynn. But he doesn’t answer my question immediately. “Hunt?” The
answer he gives me sends a rage through my veins.
“We might’ve done something.” He pauses. “Amelia got answers from
Flynn, and there’s something you should know.”
 Chapter 23
Amelia

“Why did we have to stop by the penthouse to switch cars?”

I’m sitting in the passenger seat of a pitch-black SUV, a conspicuous car
if I ever saw one. Dwayne is in the backseat, making sure his gaze lands
everywhere except on me, while Killian is behind the wheel. As the city
lights whiz by, they are making my head spin. I lay back against the
headrest, closing my eyes to the night life of the city. Hoping this dizzy and
confused feeling will pass soon.
“Because I’m not having you throw up in my Aston Martin.” He
reaches between us and switches the air conditioner on, letting it blast my
face with ice cold wind. “If you want to puke, stick your head out the
window.”
I keep my eyes closed as I slap my hand in his direction. “I’m not a
dog.” The cold air is sending shivers across my body, not at all helping the
sick feeling the tequila has left in my stomach. “I thought you said
something about coffee.” I peek at him with one eye, “And turn off the
fucking AC. It’s freezing.”
He pulls over at the nearest Starbucks, sending Dwayne in to buy us
coffee, leaving the two of us alone in the car. “What’s the deal with Flynn?
I’m guessing you don’t want Dwayne in on everything?”
“No, I don’t.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “But I can’t
leave you alone out there, and Dwayne will look out for you. Besides, there
shouldn’t be any trouble. No one knows he’s there and we almost never use
the property.”
“What do you want me to do, exactly?” I’m aware that Neal shot Flynn,
but I’m in no way equipped to remove bullets. Especially not without the
necessary instruments, anesthesia, and medications. I work with a lot of
trauma situations, but I’m always assisting the surgeon. And it’s in one of
the best medical centers in the country. Not some dungeon in the woods.
Besides, who knows what kind of damage was done.
“Like I said, just keep him from dying.” Killian turns to me, and it’s
strange to see the serious expression on his face. Even his dark eyes, which
are usually playful, are unsmiling. “This might be the only chance Neal has
to get to Seamus before the wedding. He can’t lose this lead.”
“This might be the tequila talking, but tell me again why? I’m aware the
wedding is some sort of arrangement, but why does he want to back out of
it, if he made it in the first place?” I know the answer I’d like to hear, but
I’m not putting money on the fact that I might be the reason. Neal is a
businessman, sure, but he is a Cosa Nostra man, first and foremost. His
Family comes first.
“He didn’t make the deal. Romero did.”
My heart sinks a little. It’s not what I wanted to hear, but at least I know
he didn’t enter into this engagement of his own accord.
“And Seamus? Why is killing him ending the marriage contract?”
Killian looks out the window. “Romero made a deal for weapons and
soldiers for the war. Neal’s trying to end it without having to get married.”
He turns toward me. “Besides, Neal never wants to get married.”
The car door opens and Dwayne slides into the backseat, effectively
ending our conversation. I’m certain the hollow sensation I have in the pit
of my stomach has got nothing to do with the tequila, and everything to do
with what I just found out. There's an ache in my chest, and not even the
smell of fresh coffee can make the sinking feeling in my stomach go away.
Dwayne hands me my cup and holds out another to Killian. I take a sip and
can feel the caffeine working its way through my system, burning away the
alcohol, leaving nothing but dismay.
Let’s just get through this job.
We’re on our way again, and I recognize the road as we drive upstate to
Neal’s property. I can’t help but remember our drive from there, when I was
so sure that Neal and I were headed toward a relationship. That he’d give us
a chance. To hear Killian say that Neal never wants to get married just adds
to all the confusion that comes with Neal Sanders. He obviously feels
strongly about it, otherwise he wouldn’t risk going into a war alone, without
the help of his Family or anybody else. I guess the only thing I can be
certain of is how I feel when we’re together. Not that it has any place in the
world he lives in.
And yet, here I am, on my way to helping him again. But this is
different. I’m his Associate. If they call on me for a job, I have to comply.
I’m pretty sure that’s in the contract. Otherwise, it would be a pretty shitty
contract. It’s difficult not to think that Neal wants to stop the wedding
because of us, but ultimately, I know that it’s not the case.
Before long, we drive up to the house bathed in darkness. “Did you
leave him out here alone?”
“What else were we supposed to do?” Killian gets out of the car, and we
follow him. “We don’t want word of this to get back to Romero, so we’re
doing this the hard way.”
I don’t think that this is particularly smart, but I guess when you’re
desperate you do what you have to do.
“So, your plan was to get me and Dwayne to babysit?”
“No, you’re the nurse,” he says as he lights a cigarette, the smoldering
ash briefly illuminating the dark exterior of the house and the amusing look
on his face. “And Tarantino is the babysitter.”
“You’re an idiot,” I scoff, pressing past him toward the front door,
finding it locked.
“We did take some precautions.” Killian unlocks the door and gestures
for us to go inside. I switch on the lights as I go. When I reach the living
area, images of the night we shared on the carpet in front of the fireplace fill
my mind. The way Neal slid my dress from my body, his eyes hungrily
taking in every inch of me before he laid me down and claimed me in every
way possible.
A hard truth settles in as I remember that night. Neal might not feel the
same way, but every part of me belongs to him. And that’s why I’m here
tonight. Not because of some contract, but because it’s what Neal needs.
“So where are you keeping him? Have you got some secret torture
dungeon in the basement?” I go to the kitchen, getting another pot of coffee
going to help me sober up some more. Besides, being in the living room is
not helping me focus.
Not that the kitchen is any better.
“He’s out back.” Killian walks toward the glass doors leading outside.
“Grab what you need from the house, we’ve only got a basic first aid kit out
there.”
I pause in the doorway, causing Dwayne to bump into me. He takes a
few steps back, trying to put some distance between us as quickly as
possible. He’s really acting strange in front of Killian. I peer back at him,
only for him to drop his gaze, trying his best not to meet my eyes.
 “So, you want me to patch up bullet wounds with what? A band aid and
some aspirin?”
“You really are on fire tonight, aren’t you?” He grabs my arm and pulls
me toward the training building Neal showed me the last time we were
here. “Assess his wounds and then we’ll send Tarantino out to a pharmacy
tomorrow morning or something to get what you need. We can’t use the
Family’s doctor, he’ll report to Romero, so this is what we’ve got. Deal
with it.”
“Fine.” I grind out.
The training building is locked with key codes, so I suppose it’s not too
bad a place to keep someone locked up. And at least all the weapons are
locked up as well, so there’s no way Flynn can get to them. I hope?
“You locked up all the knives and the guns, right?” I ask, frowning at
Killian.
“God help me.” He runs a hand over his face before he punches in the
key code. “Just get in there.”
I’m shoved into darkness before Killian switches on the lights and I’m
faced with Flynn. The sight before me sobers me up faster than any cup of
coffee.
He’s suspended over the training mats by chains hanging from the
ceiling, keeping him up just enough so his toes touch the floor. The blood
dripping from his wounds pool at his feet, the dark crimson substance
staining the mat I trained on not that long ago. The shirt he is wearing is
ripped with cuts all over his body, and his face is swollen and bloody. My
first instinct is to rush toward him, to start helping him, but he lifts his head
to send me a cruel smile which stops me in my tracks. I thought he’d be
unconscious by now, but I guess he’s stronger than I thought. He gives me a
once over, like he did when he saw me in the club. His green eyes still
sharp, despite the beating his body had to endure.
“Well, you’re either a psycho stalker.” He looks over at Killian and
Dwayne. “Or you work for the enemy.” His breath sounds haggard, and he
winces slightly as he tries to pull himself up. “I honestly don’t know which
one is worse. Although usually the stalkers give quite a show between the
sheets, so I think I prefer that one.”
I turn toward Killian. “Get him some water and get him down from
there.”
 “He’s not getting down, Amelia.” His voice is stern and unyielding, not
something I’m used to. “Do what you have to do with him hanging there.”
He raises his voice so that Flynn can hear him too. “Although, he seems to
be just fine, so I don’t think your help is necessary after all.”
“You drove me all the way up here, so I’m helping him.” I turn to search
for Dwayne, who’s standing by the door, like a soldier on guard. “Get me
the first aid kit, please Dwayne.”
He looks at Killian, who gives a slight nod, before he moves toward the
cupboard to retrieve the kit. It irks me that Dwayne must ask permission,
that I have to ask permission, before doing anything. It’s fucking infuriating
that they think I have to answer to them, just because they say so. Lucky for
him he didn’t fling his Capo title around, because I might just punch him in
the face.
I walk toward Flynn and it’s not lost on me that my shoes are stained by
the time I reach him. He really has lost a lot of blood, and I can’t imagine
how he’s still awake. These men must be made of something else.
Possessing a strength they find somewhere, no one knows about. Like
they’re born and bred for a life of violence.
I get down on my knees, drenching my jeans as I try to assess his
wounds. It’s hard with his pants being soaked in blood and him hanging in
this position. He’s been shot in both legs, which are the worst of his
wounds. Dwayne hands me the kit, opening it, I take out a pair of scissors
to cut his pants open so I can see what’s going on.
“Usually when I have a woman on her knees in front of me, it turns out
a bit differently.” He flinches as I touch the wounds slightly to see what I’m
working with. “But I guess I still have enough blood left. Seeing your head
bobbing down there is making me hard.”
Flynn’s body swings from the impact as Dwayne punches him in the
face.
“That’s enough,” I say loudly and Dwayne takes a step back. “Go get
me some warm water and towels, belts if there are any and more bandages
and alcohol to clean his wounds.” I glance up at Flynn and see a shudder
run through his body. “And the strongest pain meds you can find.”
“He just needs to live, Amelia, not walk out of here.” Killian’s voice
comes from behind me. He lowers his voice slightly as he continues, “And
don’t do anything we couldn’t do. I don’t want Neal to know you were
here.”
 “Then why am I here if you could just do it yourself, bright spark?” I
peer over my shoulder at Killian and he flashes me his signature smile.
“Because we can’t do it. We do the killing, you do the fixing.” He pats
me on the shoulder as he gets back up and stands a little behind me. It’s
clear they don’t trust Flynn to not hurt me, which is a little hard to believe
considering the condition he’s in.
Dwayne returns with the supplies I requested. I give Flynn the pain
medication, doubling up just in case, before I take off his pants, because it’s
just easier to work like that. But not without him making a few dirty
suggestions from above. I wash his legs to clear the area before cleaning out
his wounds. Luckily, one of the bullets went straight through and hasn’t
caused that much damage. But I’m pretty sure the other one is lodged in his
femur.
“He needs to go to the hospital, Killian.” I can’t fix a lodged bullet like
this. “He will lose his leg if we don’t help him, or he could die.” I tie the
belts around his legs to act as a tourniquet.
“He’s a dead man anyway, he just needs to stay alive long enough for
Neal to question him.” His phone rings and he answers, before stepping
away to have a private conversation.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Flynn’s voice is soft, and I peer up to
see his green eyes looking down at me.
So much like Neal’s.
“I’m a nurse, I’ll do what I can.” I don’t know what to tell him. This is
not the ideal situation. And certainly not what I signed up for. I pledged to
help people, not to keep them alive so that others could torture them longer.
“Why don’t you just tell them what they want to know, so they can let you
go.”
He tries to laugh, but it comes out as more of a cough. “You really think
I’m getting out of here? I might as well piss them off and not tell them
anything.”
“You could make a deal -”
He cuts me off. “I don’t make deals with Castellano’s.”
Before I can say anything, Killian returns with a scowl on his face. “We
have to go. I have some business in the city, we’ll come back tomorrow
morning with all the supplies you need.”
“We can’t leave him here like this, Killian.”
 Killian walks toward Flynn and pats him on the shoulder. “You’re good
here, right Flynnie?” Flynn doesn’t answer him but looks at him with so
much hatred in his eyes, I’m sure Killian would burn on the spot if Flynn
could have his way. “See, no objections. Let’s go.”
“No, I’m staying here.” I continue working on Flynn’s wounds, ignoring
Killian. He can do whatever he wants. I’m staying here. It wouldn’t feel
right to leave him here without at least trying to ease some of his pain.
“Why did I bring you here?” Killian runs his hands through his hair.
“I’m going to kick Hunter in the nuts for suggesting it.”
“Well, either leave me here, or throw me over your shoulder, because
I’m not leaving willingly.” I stand up and clutch my stomach with a
dramatic flare. “Just know that the tequila might come back up with me
hanging upside down like that.”
“I’ll stay with her, Boss.” Dwayne speaks up for the first time tonight. I
know he’s trying to be respectful of Killian’s position in the Family, but it’s
still strange for me to witness.
“I bet you will.” Killian’s retort leaves Dwayne cringing slightly, but he
must’ve seen that it’s the best option. “Fine, you can stay here. But you’ll
stay in the house.” He ushers me up and toward the door. “You’ve done
enough tonight, you can do more tomorrow.” We’re all out the door and
back into the cold night air before I could protest any further.
I guess I’ll have to wait for tomorrow to get more information.

∞∞∞

The next morning, I wake up well into the morning, with a hangover
that feels like a building has been dropped on my head. My limbs feel
heavy and there might’ve been a sandstorm in my mouth.
Ugh, I’m never drinking tequila again.
I take a shower, trying to wash off the alcohol that seems to be seeping
from my pores. It’s a good thing I didn’t continue working on Flynn last
night, who knows how I might’ve screwed up considering how much I had
to drink. After getting dressed, I head downstairs in search of some food.
Killian and Dwayne are sitting at the table, deep in discussion, when I come
in.
 “Well, well, looks like tequila’s made you its bitch.” Killian’s face is lit
with its usual amusement.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I grab Dwayne’s coffee and take a sip. He
doesn’t say anything and gets up to pour himself another cup.
“When we opened the door, it smelled like a distillery in there, so we
just left you to sleep it off,” Dwayne says from his spot in front of the
coffee pot.
Killian’s phone rings and he answers it, leaving the kitchen to take it in
private.
“How are you feeling?” Dwayne walks toward me and takes a seat
across from me. “I’m sorry if I’m the reason you drank too much.”
I shrug at him. “It’s not your fault, I’m a big girl.” I take another sip of
coffee. “Besides, I really needed to blow off some steam.” He nods before
Killian returns to the kitchen.
“I have to get back to the city, we have a…” He trails off, like he’s
considering how to phrase the next part. “Thing. We have a thing tonight. I
won’t be back until late.”
“It’s no problem. Just give us the key codes and we’ll take care of your
prisoner.”
He looks reluctant to leave me here, but he’s got no other choice. “I
gave them to Tarantino already. He’ll get you what you need.” He looks a
bit uncomfortable, like he’s not sure he’s doing the right thing. “Don’t fuck
up, Amelia. Neal needs this.”
“I won’t fuck up, Killian. I know what I’m doing.”
He nods at me before he leaves, but not before giving Dwayne a death
stare. “If anything happens to her, it’ll be you hanging up there, you got
that?”
Dwayne nods. “Yes, Boss.”
With a last glance at the both of us, Killian leaves. The front door shuts
behind him and I grab my coffee and head toward the double doors.
“Let’s go, Dwayne. I’ve wasted enough time.”
Flynn is still where we left him, and I don’t know why I expected
anything else. He seems better than last night, which gives me hope that I
didn’t totally screw up. I walk up to him and start cleaning the cuts on his
body and his face, bandaging the bigger ones and leaving the others.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice is still coarse, but the color in
his face has returned slightly. I give him another round of pain medication,
since I’m sure the ones from last night have worn off.
“I’m glad to see you survived the night.” I open the bandage around his
leg where the bullet is still wedged in his femur. I struggle to keep a straight
face when I see that it’s not much better than last night. In fact, it might be a
little worse this morning.
“Dwayne,” I call over my shoulder. “If we’re not allowed to take him to
the hospital, can you at least get me some antibiotics? It’s not going to help
if he dies of infection.” Dwayne looks hesitant, so I add, “Nothing’s going
to happen. He’s chained up and hasn’t moved the whole time he’s been
hanging here. And besides, the pain meds will knock him out in a few
minutes.” I don’t think the strongest dose of morphine could knock Flynn
out, but he keeps his eyes closed, helping me to convince Dwayne.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He looks between me and Flynn. “The
pharmacy isn’t too far away, I’ll only be a few minutes.” I think he’s trying
to convince himself and warn me at the same time that there’s no time to do
something stupid.
I get up and give him a hug, whispering in his ear, “Thank you, I’ll be
fine.”
He nods and rushes out the door, trying his best to hurry up. As the door
shuts, Flynn stirs behind me.
“You really know how to use a man, sweetheart.” The corner of his
mouth lifts in a small smile. “Are you sure you’re a nurse?”
I reach up to check his chains and see that they’re secured around his
wrists, and there’s no way I can get those untied. But there’s a hook a little
higher. If I can just lift him somehow, I can at least get him down from
there. His body must be aching from hanging in this position for so long.
“Can you lift yourself?” I ask, instead of answering his question.
He looks up, following my gaze to the hook, understanding my
intentions. “And what’s your plan when your bodyguard gets back? I can’t
move quick enough, my legs are busted, as you well know.”
“I’m not helping you escape, Flynn. I’m trying to keep you from
dying.” I study the look on his face. “You’re Neal’s family and I took an
oath. Besides, it’s basic human decency.”
He huffs. “Not a lot of room for human decency in the Mob,
sweetheart.”
I ignore him and look around for something we can use as a stool, to get
him up high enough so we can unhook the chain. He sees that I’m not
deterred by his comment in the slightest and decides to help me.
“Use that crate over there, can you drag it?”
I tug on the crate and immediately think it’s full of weights or
something, because it’s heavy as fuck. But I pull with all my might,
dragging it slowly but surely until it’s underneath Flynn and he can place
his feet on top of it, giving him enough room to try to stand. He needs my
support, since one of his legs is too damaged to support any kind of weight.
I get up next to him and try to keep him up. His face is contorted in pain
and determination as he tries to rally all his strength for one last attempt at
getting down. As soon as the chain is unhooked, he collapses into me and
we both fall to the floor. We’re both covered in sticky blood and a loud
groan escapes Flynn as I hoist myself off of him.
“Thank you.”
I can see some relief on his face, but he’s still got too many wounds for
my liking. I take my sweater off and put it under his head as a pillow while
I try to assess his gunshot wounds after the fall. Luckily, this position is
much better to prevent more blood loss, so at least I’m happy with that.
“Don’t mention it.” I’m out of breath after that whole ordeal, but I keep
going. I have to come up with something to tell Dwayne when he returns.
Because I know he’s not going to like this. Not to mention Killian.
Or Neal.
I don’t fucking care. If they didn’t want me to show compassion, they
shouldn’t have included me in their Family.
“You’re going to get into trouble.” Flynn looks at me and a flash of
concern crosses his face. “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger to save
criminals.”
“You’re Neal’s family,” I whisper. I hope that deep down Neal wouldn’t
want his cousin to suffer or die, despite what happened with Seamus.
“Besides, you didn’t do anything, it was your father.”
“What did my father do?” Flynn’s face contorts in confusion before he
winces as I bandage his leg back up again. I’m not sure if it’s my place to
say anything, and I know for a fact that Neal wouldn’t want me talking to
Flynn about his private matters. But I’m here, and Flynn’s talking, so I’m
not going to let the opportunity slip through my fingers.
“He killed his sister, Neal’s mother,” I answer his question anyway.
His eyes widen. “That’s why Sanders wants me? To get to my father.
For something that didn’t happen?”
 I frown at him. “What do you mean something that didn’t happen?”
“My father didn’t kill his sister. He loved her with everything he had.”
He winces as I bandage his other leg. “Still does, he visits her grave every
year on her birthday.” The bleeding has slowed down significantly, and with
the meds, it should help him. For a while.
“So why would Neal spend his life in search of revenge if your father
didn’t kill his parents?” Neal wouldn’t forsake his family and risk losing
them over something that wasn’t true.
“Maybe he’s been lied to all his life, ever thought of that?” Flynn says,
and it hits me like a ton of bricks.
Dwayne bursts through the door, huffing like he ran a marathon. His
face is filled with disappointment and anger as he stomps toward me. “What
the fuck, Amelia? Are you trying to get us killed?”
“There’s no time for dramatics, Dwayne.” If I’m right about this,
Romero has been lying to Neal all his life, filling his head with poison,
turning him against his mother’s family.
“Phone Killian. Neal needs to get down here now.”
 Chapter 24
Neal

“Explain.”
The lights and cars whiz by me as I’m driving way over the speed limit
to reach my estate as quickly as possible. I am fucking seething, my blood
turned to red hot lava coursing through my veins at the thought of Amelia
being anywhere near Flynn. Having her with him at the club was difficult
for me to handle, and that was while Hunter was with her and I was waiting
outside.
“What the fuck is she doing there?” It’s hard not to raise my voice at
Hunter and Killian right now, but if I don’t remain calm, I might just kill
them both before we get there. Killian is next to me in the passenger seat
and I can see him turning to Hunter, gesturing for him to talk first.
“So, help me God, if one of you doesn't start talking this minute.” I’m
gripping the steering wheel so hard, I’m afraid I might break it clean off.
Hunter clears his throat. “Amelia is a nurse. We thought it’d be best if
she could attend to Flynn’s wounds so that he would still be able to answer
any questions you might have.”
“You went behind my back.” My voice is low, but there’s no way they’d
mistake it for calmness. They know me better than that by now.
“Not really.” Killian turns to me. “We are on your side. We don’t want
you to lose the only lead we have with the wedding being so close.”
It sure doesn’t feel like it.
They are very much aware of how I feel about loyalty, about lies. I don’t
appreciate being taken for a fool, and it feels like that’s all that’s been
happening the last couple of weeks. With Romero trying to force my hand
and control me from behind the scenes. Salvatore telling me how to act and
what to do with Arica. Arica shoving her fucking tongue down my throat
and drowning my office in all kinds of wedding crap. And Amelia…
She’s the only reason I’ve felt like myself for the first time in my entire
life.
And now they dare to place her in danger. Without me knowing
anything about it. I expected better from my Capos. Even they are trying to
do things without me, in the name of doing it for me. It just doesn’t work
like that. You’re either with me, or you can fuck off.
The tension in the car is palpable, and they know that the slightest thing
will set me off right now, so the rest of the drive upstate is quiet. Not that it
took me very long to reach my destination. I broke all kinds of laws in the
last half hour. Although, it’s not like I don’t break the law every single day,
so what’s a few speeding fines.
I get out of the car and march toward the front door, like a man on a
mission. The cold night air is no match for the anger and heat rolling off my
body. I’m ready to kill Flynn and take Amelia far away from here.
Killian is running up behind me, trying to catch up. “Boss, you have to
be calm in there.”
Spinning around, I punch him in the jaw so hard he falls to the ground.
He clutches his jaw but doesn’t attempt to get up. I grab him by the collar of
his leather jacket, hoisting him up so that his face is close to mine.
“Say that again.” My breath comes out in fleeting clouds in the cold
night air. “I. Dare. You.”
Hunter’s hand rests carefully on my shoulder. “Boss, you can’t kill
Flynn without hearing what he has to say.”
I shove Killian back to the ground and turn towards Hunter. He has
enough common sense to be cautious as he slowly backs away from me.
“Whose idea was it to bring Amelia here?” My money is on Killian, but
I hope for his sake it wasn’t him, because a bruise is already forming on his
face from where I hit him.
“It was mine.” Hunter doesn’t drop his gaze, but rather holds mine,
standing by the decision he made. “I asked Killian to drive her up here.”
I walk toward him, but he stands his ground, taking his punishment as I
punch him in the face. His nose crunches and blood is streaming from it,
some of it is covering my fist. I straighten my jacket and stare at him
holding his face.
“That’s for not intervening sooner at the club. Don’t think I don’t know
that you encouraged her to go that far.”
Amelia comes through the front door just as I turn around. She draws back
slightly at the scene in front of her before an angry expression crosses her
lovely face.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Her anger grows as she takes in
the scene in front of her, Killian now standing up and holding his jaw like it
might fall off and Hunter’s shirt covered in blood from his nose.
Clouds of air dance around me as I’m huffing in anger, my fist bloody
and trembling with the need to cause more damage.
“What do you mean?” Killian says with a smile that’s slightly awkward
and skew. “Everything’s fine.”
My anger subsides a little at seeing her. I scan over her once, twice, but
I can’t see anything wrong with her. Not a scratch. Hunter and Killian can
thank God that nothing happened to her, because I would’ve killed them if
she’d been harmed. But she seems to be fine, just an angry scowl on her
face that is now clearly directed at me.
“Did you do this?” She comes down the steps, but instead of walking
toward me, she heads for Hunter. She tilts his head and moves his hands
from face to assess the damage.
“What about me?” Killian asks, still rubbing his jaw and now groaning
to add to the effect. “He hit me pretty hard too, you know.”
“I bet you had it coming.” She leads Hunter toward the house since he
can’t see anything with his face tilting upwards. “Besides, I was on the
verge of punching you myself. Now, I don’t have to go through the
trouble.”
I follow them into the house, ignoring Killian behind me. He’s not off
the hook for going behind my back, and neither is Hunter. I am their Boss,
and I’ll be their Don. In a world where you never know who is going to stab
you in the back, you at least need someone to rely on. My circle of trust is
diminishing fast, and I can’t believe that my brothers caused a drop of doubt
in their loyalty to me.
I’ve been here a lot over the last couple of days, with bringing Flynn
here, and spending the weekend with Amelia. Seeing her walking through
the house like she owns it fills me with a sense of pride. She really is the
perfect specimen, perfect for our world without having been born into it.
She fits in this life and she fits with me.
Dwayne is running around, getting things for her. The fire is crackling
in the fireplace, I can smell dinner in the kitchen, and Hunter is lying on the
couch with a bag of frozen peas on his face. A string of objections comes
from him as he tries to get up, but Amelia won’t let him.
“This sure looks cosy.” My pride quickly turns to irritation at the fact
that she’s made herself at home with a few of my men and my enemy. Not
with me. She’ll never be able to do this with me.
 I guess I shouldn’t be surprised after what happened.
I walk across the room toward the double doors, heading toward Flynn
and hopefully some answers. He shared something with Amelia. And I’ll be
damned if I leave here without the location of my parents’ killer.
Amelia clears her throat behind me. “You’re heading the wrong way.”
My hand tenses on the door handle, my knuckles turning white. She
couldn’t possibly mean…
“He’s in the den,” she confirms the worst.
What the fuck is wrong with this woman?
I turn toward her slowly, bristling with anger. I take my gun out and
move to walk to the den, where my so-called ‘prisoner’ is being kept at his
leisure, apparently. Right now, I don’t care what he has to say to me, I’ll
figure it out on my own. Everyone in this goddamn room has stepped over
the line, and it’s time they remember who the fuck I am.
He dies now.
Amelia moves to block me. “Put that away, Neal. He’s got some
important information.”
I can’t bring myself to look down at her. All I can focus on is the door
of the den on the other side of the room and the person behind it, taking his
last breaths. “You need to get out of my way, now.”
But instead of moving, she stands her ground. Her face turns to stone as
she stands a little taller. Her voice resonates across the room with a firm,
“No.”
There’s no doubt that I’ve hurt her, that day in the parking garage, when
she met Arica. I know I should’ve been honest with her the moment I
started to realize my own feelings for her. But she needs to understand that I
am the Underboss. This is business. Not some romantic spat. This is about
my parents’ killer. Not about her bruised ego.
“You’re crossing a line.” My voice comes out at a deadly whisper. She
wants to take a step back, she knows she’s not supposed to stand in my way
right now. She hesitates for a few seconds before stepping aside, allowing
me to head to the den.
“He needs to go to the hospital, Neal,” she calls after me, but I ignore
her as I enter the room. The bedside light is on, with Flynn laying in the
warm glow, made comfortable like he’s someone’s sick fucking
grandmother waiting on being spoon-fed warm soup.
 I slam the door, which causes him to jerk awake. “I see you’ve made
yourself quite at home. Are you enjoying your stay?”
Flynn tries to sit upright and has to use his arms to pull his body up. He
looks a lot better than when I left him, and I have no doubt that he’d be able
to walk out of here in a few days. She has done more than the basic things
needed to keep him alive.
She’s been nursing him back to health.
A stab of betrayal moves through me at what Amelia has done behind
my back. She knows what his father did. She knows what it means for me
to have him as my prisoner, and still, she chooses his well-being over my
fucking sanity.
It feels like my world has been turned upside down. I don’t know who
to trust anymore. The only thing that’s a constant in my life is the fact that
my parents were murdered. And the key to vengeance lies with the man
who is laying in front of me. Of that I’m sure.
“You’ve got a lovely little nurse on staff, cousin. I’m debating whether
or not to stay a little longer. Maybe I’d get some extra special treatment.”
I walk toward the foot of the bed, not missing the neat bandages around
his legs and the pillows used to elevate them. “It seems like you’ve already
gotten the special treatment. This sure as hell isn’t my idea of keeping
someone prisoner.”
For fuck sakes. Where in your entire life have you seen a Mafia
Underboss treat his prisoners this way.
Flynn’s gaze doesn’t leave my gun and I’m sure he knows that no
amount of special treatment will save him from me. Amelia might be a
sucker for an injured man, but it makes no difference to me. As an
Underboss himself, he knows how it works. That he’ll never be safe in the
home of an enemy. No matter how comfortable you are.
It’s just our way.
He shifts around uncomfortably. “What do you want from me,
Sanders?” His gaze finds mine, and he holds it. “Ask your questions and
kill me. This isn’t the type of foreplay I’m into.”
“I’m glad to see we’re on the same page.” I pull a chair from the desk
and take a seat, elbows resting on my knees with my gun in my hand. Flynn
is in no state to attack me from the position he’s in, but it doesn’t mean I
won’t shoot him in the head if he tries something.
 “Where’s Seamus?” I stare at his expression at the mention of his father.
I’m sure he knows that I’m after him. It wouldn’t be a secret what happened
to his aunt, to my mother. Even though he probably wasn’t even born yet,
I’m sure it has been passed around like some sort of victory over the years.
“Why do you want my father?” His jaw is set in determination. “You’ve
got me.”
I won’t get Seamus’ location from him. I know it. Flynn, like me, came
to his position not only by blood, but by strength and loyalty. Even with
him laying in bed like this, wounded and vulnerable, he’s still a predator, a
monster like me.
“I guess it would have to do.” I rub my jaw, knowing that I’m lying. It
will never do. “Your life for the life of my mother and father.” A small
chuckle escapes me. “Seems rather poetic, doesn’t it? I lost my parents,
thanks to yours. Now your parents will lose you, thanks to me.”
I point the gun at my cousin’s head. He won’t give me what I want,
even now, when death is staring him in the eyes.
He releases a strained laugh. “You know, Amelia said something similar
to me.” He smiles. “After she unchained me.”
“Don’t you dare speak about her,” I say through clenched teeth. It’s
enough knowing she’s been alone with him up here, in my house, caring for
him, bandaging his wounds and doing her best to make sure he’s okay. I
don’t need him to rub it in my face.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” He laughs and shifts on the bed, his legs
moving more than I thought they would with the wounds he has. “Look, kill
me if you have to. I’ve got no illusions about walking out of here alive. But
make sure you kill me for the truth, instead of the lies you’ve been fed your
whole life.”
I have no reason to believe him right now. He’s in a position where he
would say anything to get out of here. He would have me believe the sky is
purple if it meant that he would live to see another day. Why should I
believe him, a cousin I’ve never met, over the man who raised me? The one
who opened his home to me, taught me everything I know and made me
who I am today.
“You’re lying.” A cracked sound escapes my throat, one I don’t
recognize as my own voice.
“You think my father killed your parents.” He’s making a statement, but
why does it sound so weak coming from him? Is it because he truly doesn’t
believe it? I don’t miss the flash of enjoyment on his face at being the one
to make me doubt everything I know to be true. He looks like he’s enjoying
being the one to break my world apart. Like I deserve it somehow.
I guess I do. I’ve done horrible things in my life.
“He did. He went into their safe house and killed them while I was
hidden away.” Hearing my voice lack the confidence it always held when
speaking that truth is making me uneasy. Just thinking about it has got me
on my feet, my gun now pressed against his head. I need to get this out of
the way. I need to finish this off. I’m done with this part of my life.
“He wouldn’t have been there.” Flynn’s face turns serious, as he presses
his head further into the barrel of my gun. “He was at the hospital with my
mother. It was the night I was born.”
I’m shaking my head at every word coming from his mouth. It can’t
possibly be true. But I can’t seem to find my voice to contradict him. I
simply cannot form the words, like they’re all slipping from my grasp.
“Romero has lied to you. I don’t know who did it.” A low chuckle
escapes him. “Fuck it might even be him. But it was definitely not my
father.”
His eyes are filled with a sureness, a certainty in the things he’s saying.
A certainty that’s lacking in my voice as I try to grasp at any other possible
reason it might not be true. “He could’ve sent his men.”
“True. But why would he? He was set to leave for Ireland, with me and
my mam. He was supposed to take over the Family business from there.
Leave Aunt Aeofe and your father here, to run things from this side. That
was the deal.”
I press the gun harder, my finger quaking on the trigger.
Why can’t I just pull it? It will shut him up.
“What did he have to gain by killing them?” he continues, his voice drilling
holes in everything I know.
I can’t listen to any more of this. Lowering the gun, I turn around and
walk toward the door.
“You know I’m speaking the truth,” he shouts after me, chuckling as I
leave. “Deep down, you know.”
Everything feels like it’s spinning. And it won’t stop. I don’t see the
table I knock over as I stumble across the living room toward the exit, any
exit.
 “Neal?” Amelia’s voice comes from the couch, next to Hunter. He tries
to stand up, but she won’t let him.
“Are you okay, brother?” He moves her aside to get to me, but I leave
all of them as I head to the door.
I need to get out of here. I can’t be around these people. Everyone is
filling my head with lies, and it feels like I’m suffocating. I rip the front
door open, stumbling on the steps. The cold air hits me in the chest.
Knocking the heat, anger and frustration out of me and leaving me with
nothing. Only emptiness.
My whole life has been a lie. My entire existence, based on what?
I can sense her before I see her. Slowly approaching me, like she’s
scared I might run away. I gaze up, trying to focus on the clear night sky
above me as I try to breathe. I don’t know if I can face her. I might just
come apart completely and I can’t afford to cling to her, to count on her to
get me through this.
I have to get myself through this. I’ve always been alone in this. It’s just
been confirmed tonight.
“What do you want, Amelia?” Keeping my eyes on the stars, I feel her
standing next to me, slowly reaching up to place her hand on my shoulder
as a way to console me.
“Are you okay?” Her voice comes out at a whisper. Soft and soothing,
making me wish I was laying with my head on her lap, her hands running
through my hair as she assures me that everything will be fine in the end.
I step away from her touch and head to my car. “I’m fine.”
I don’t need anyone consoling me.
“Tell those idiots to meet me in the city as soon as possible.” I get in the
car without so much as a glance in her direction. I can’t deal with the pity I
know is displayed on her beautiful face.
“What about Flynn?” She holds the door open, preventing me from
leaving. “He needs to go to a hospital.”
“Kill him.” Ripping the door from her grip, I slam it shut, leaving her
standing alone as I drive off into the night.
 Chapter 25
Amelia

I didn’t handle that right.

Watching Neal drive off into the night feels like a gut punch. We did all
of this behind his back, and it hit him hard. On top of that, Flynn obviously
told him that Seamus wasn’t there that night, that he couldn’t have been
there. The look on Neal’s face when he came out of that room… It looked
like his world was crashing down around him, like he didn’t know which
way was up and which way was down.
The solid man I’ve come to know, the Underboss of the Castellano
Crime Family, looked defeated.
I have no doubt in my mind that he’ll be able to pull himself together,
and get this handled, but I want him to know that he doesn’t have to go at it
alone. I want him to know that in the end, I want him to get exactly what he
wants. I need to help him fix this, but he pulled away from me. He doesn’t
want my comfort or my help.
The thought sends a chill through me and I brush my arms to get some
warmth. The chilly night breeze reminds me that I’m still standing outside,
alone.
With nothing but a kill order from Neal. From my Capo.
Shit.
He gave that order to me. No one else was around to hear him. At least
that buys me some time to figure out the right way to navigate this. I have
to believe that Neal doesn’t truly want Flynn dead, otherwise he would’ve
killed him himself tonight. He certainly had the weapon and the
opportunity. And I’m certain Flynn provoked him enough. There’s a reason
Neal walked away.
Neal has lost enough. I won’t allow him to lose any more family.
I make my way inside, shutting the door from the cold outside, the
warmth from the fireplace beckoning me. Neal hasn’t been here with me
since our weekend together, but I couldn’t help making myself at home in
this place. Every part of it is inviting. I just wish I could share this home
with him.
 Upon entering the living area, I see all three Made Men are pacing. I
guess I can’t blame them after seeing their Boss stumbling out of here,
we’re all a little on edge about what just happened. Hunter’s busted nose
and Killian’s purple jaw are another sign that Neal didn’t handle this
betrayal very well.
“Neal wants you to meet him in the city.”
Their heads whip around to the sound of my voice. Dwayne’s face is
weirdly filled with relief as his eyes rove over me, seeing that I’m all in one
piece.
Hunter steps forward, his fists balling at his sides, like he’s ready for a
fight. “What else did he say?”
“That’s it.” I don’t drop my gaze, but keep staring at Hunter, hoping he
can’t see through my bullshit as easily as Liz or Olivia can. “He said you
should go as soon as possible.”
“He must have said something about Flynn?” He takes another step in
my direction and points at the den. “What the fuck happened in there?”
“I guess he shared with Neal what he shared with me.” I slowly let out a
sigh. I’m not sure if I should tell them, if it’s even my place to tell them.
But I know Neal trusts them, even if he punched the shit out of them. They
are his brothers, they live together, they’re his right-hand men. His two best
Capo Regimes. He told no one else about bringing Flynn here. He made
them a part of his team to get out of this contract Romero set up, to get
revenge on the Irish.
“Spit it out, doll.” Killian lights the cigarette between his lips and
winces as he draws in deeply. “We don’t have all night.”
Dwayne looks a bit uncomfortable as he looks between the two Capos.
He was trusted to watch over me, yes, but beyond that he wasn’t part of the
plan. “I’ll just go check on the prisoner.” He walks toward the den and goes
inside, leaving the three of us alone in the living area.
Hunter and Killian stare at me expectantly, waiting on me to share the
information, any information. “Flynn told me that Seamus isn’t responsible
for the death of Neal’s parents.”
Killian’s eyes narrow as he draws on his cigarette. He runs his hands
through hair and plops down on the couch. “Well, fuck me.”
“He’s obviously lying.” Hunter’s voice is stern and unwavering. He’s
not ready to take Flynn’s word at face value. Which I’m sure was Neal’s
reaction the second he heard it.
 “Why would he lie?”
I don’t know Flynn very well, but I’m a pretty good judge of character.
And that man in there wasn’t lying. There are some truths you can’t hide
from your eyes. Flynn is a man who would do anything to save his father,
even tell an age-old truth that never saw the light of day before.
“Why wouldn’t he lie?” Hunter counters. “He’s sustained serious
injuries, and he knows that he won’t get out of here alive.”
“Exactly. Why come up with elaborate lies if you’re going to die,
anyway? He has nothing to gain from lying, Hunter.”
Hunter looks to Killian to see if he’d possibly back him up on this. He’s
still sitting on the couch with his head thrown back, a trail of smoke coming
from his mouth.
“What do you think, de Luca?”
He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly sits up and rubs his
hands together, careful not to crush the cigarette between his fingers. He
lets out a deep sigh. “I think we do what Neal says.”
He gets up from the couch and moves toward the foyer to get a set of
keys. Neal took the car they came here with, so they’d have to use one of
his vehicles in the garage.
“We’ve gone against his orders by dragging Amelia into this. Then went
behind his back by not telling him about it until the worst possible moment.
Now it’s time to show him he’s still got people he can rely on.”
Hunter nods, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “Looks like Neal
knocked some sense into you after all.”
Killian chuckles. “That was a fucker of a punch, brother. I was sure he
was going to kill me.”
I move toward the two of them as they head out the door. “What about
us? How long are we supposed to stay here?” I was supposed to patch
Flynn up and then go home. I’ve still got classes back in the city, and I have
a job. “And what about Flynn? I’ve managed to stop the bleeding and with
fluids his blood has had a chance to restore, but he needs to go to the
hospital for antibiotics and to remove -”
Hunter stops in his tracks and turns back toward me, cutting me off.
“That’s not happening, Amelia, so put that idea out of your head right now.
Unless you want a bullet between your eyes.” He stands up to his full
height, filling out the whole room with his moody presence. Even with his
busted nose, he looks like a formidable opponent. “If you want to show
Neal where your loyalty lies, you leave that fucking man alone. We’ll get
our orders from him when we’re back in the city and take it from there.”
Shit, if they get to Neal before I do, they’ll know about the kill order
and that I didn’t tell them about it. I can only hope Neal has changed his
mind or has come to his senses and realized he has more use for Flynn alive
than dead.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I fumble for it desperately, hoping
it’s Neal phoning to tell me just that.
I answer without looking at the screen, “Neal.”
“Ah, so desperate, my dear Amelia.” Romero chuckles. “I can’t wait to
hear that desperation for me in your voice.”
A cold chill runs down my spine. Hearing his voice so close to my ear
makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“What can I do for you, Romero?”
At the mention of his name, Hunter and Killian stop in their tracks and
turn back, pinning me with their eyes. They obviously know that this isn’t a
friendly phone call.
“Imagine my surprise when I get to your apartment and you’re nowhere
to be found. Instead, there are two lovely young ladies here who have
welcomed me into your home.” His words cause an iciness to form in my
gut.
“Leave them out of this. They have nothing to do with Castellano
business.” Hunter steps forward, understanding my meaning that Olivia
could be in danger. “I’m the one you do business with, that was our
agreement.”
“Yes, well, since you seem to be unavailable, I’ve been thinking that
perhaps I should reconsider the terms of your contract.” The meaning
behind his words makes my blood run cold. “Three for the price of one is a
much better deal, don’t you think?”
“No. I’ll do what you want, just leave them out of this.” I shouldn’t
show him that I’m afraid of him and his threats. But try as I might, talking
to this man makes me want to look over my shoulder since it feels like he’s
right behind me. Breathing down my neck. “It’s in our contract. Me instead
of them.”
“That’s right, yes.” I can hear him smiling on the other side of the
phone, and I hate that I played exactly into his hand just now. “So, if you
want to keep it that way, you have to obey my orders.”
 My voice comes out smaller than I’d like. “What do you want me to
do?”
Please be something I can do.
“It’s nothing sinister, my dear Amelia.” Everything with this man is
sinister, and he knows it. “I merely request your presence at an event on
Friday evening. As my escort, of course, it should go without saying.”
“Excuse me?” Of all the things he could ask of me. There has to be
some kind of catch. He is a married man. Is he trying to humiliate me, or
maybe her? What is he playing at?
“I’ll have your dress sent over and a driver will pick you up,” he says
nonchalantly, like it’s the most common thing in the world to accompany a
Don to an event. As his mistress or as his slave, I’m not sure yet. In all
honesty, I don’t think that it would make any difference. I get his meaning.
He says ‘jump’, I ask ‘how high’, otherwise the lives of the people I love
are in jeopardy.
“And Liz and Olivia stay out of all this?” I need to confirm this with
him. He’s a cruel man, a monster and a killer. I’m sure hurting two women
is just another Sunday afternoon to him.
“Of course, I’m leaving right now.” I can hear him walking on the other
side of the phone. “But disappoint me again, Amelia…”
“I won’t.” I’ll do anything to keep them safe from that monster. Not
only them, but Neal too. Neal might have grown up with him, but I have no
doubt that Neal is expendable to him too. Having dealt with Romero these
last couple of weeks is another reason I believe Flynn. Romero seems like
the type who would kill his own brother to further himself in the Family
Business. And if he could kill his own brother, what’s stopping him from
killing his nephew?
“There’s a good girl.” I can just picture his smile and those piercing
eyes glinting at his success. “See you soon, Amelia.”
I stare down at my phone, ending the call. Wishing that I could erase
what just happened by pushing that red button, but unfortunately, it doesn’t
work that way. I made a deal with the devil, and I have to uphold my end of
the bargain. I wipe at a tear threatening to roll down my cheek, before the
two men see that their Don has unnerved me, has me feeling defeated.
“What has he done to Olivia?” Hunter’s voice cuts through my descent
into self-pity, reminding me that it’s not all for nothing. “Is she hurt?” His
face is filled with concern. I have absolutely no idea what’s going on
between those two, but I have no doubt that Hunter will do anything to
protect her and keep her safe.
“She’s fine.” I sigh. “I think they’re both fine for now,” I add, looking at
Killian, whose shoulders relax a little bit. I’m clutching my phone, urging it
to ring again, hoping that Neal would call. I need him to tell me that we’ll
handle this. Together.
“What did he want from you?” Killian comes closer and holds out his
packet of cigarettes toward me. I guess he’s been around me and my anxiety
long enough to know when I need to have a smoke. And nothing causes
more anxiety than a phone call from Romero Castellano.
“I need some wine with this.” I light the cigarette and inhale, feeling the
calming effect move through my body. “Fuck wine, I need something
stronger.” I blow out a cloud of smoke, looking toward the door of the den,
wondering what Dwayne and Flynn are doing in there. Maybe Dwayne has
decided to stay in there, since he can still hear us talking out here.
“Romero has requested that I accompany him to some event on Friday
evening.”
Killian looks at Hunter, and it’s clear that the two of them know exactly
what this event is.
“Where am I going?” I ask them, hoping it’s nothing bad. “What type of
event is this?”
I hope it’s not some kind of human trafficking auction, drug convention
or prostitute training sessions. Those are the worst things I can think of
right now. Or maybe he wants to sell me to someone. Have me parade in
front of potential clients all evening, just to give me to one of them at the
end of the night. I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut,
willing the crazy images swirling around my head to go away. I should just
stop speculating because my mind is getting ridiculously carried away.
“It’s Neal’s engagement party on Friday.” Killian’s voice is low, and he
clearly means to show sympathy in some way. “He’s proposing to Arica in
front of everyone, the Families and even members of the Commission.”
Great. Just fucking great.
At least it’s not me being sold to the highest bidder. Silver lining,
Amelia. Silver lining.
I walk toward the bar to get myself a strong drink. I’m aware of their
gaze carefully following me. Like they’re waiting for a freak out from me.
I’m sort of waiting for one myself, but I think somewhere along the line
I’ve come to terms with the life I’ve been thrown into. A life filled with
violence and manipulation, all in the name of loyalty and Family.
Although, I think Romero has forsaken any true sense of loyalty or
Family. He’s a man who only has his own interests in mind. He forgets that
if he keeps piling bodies to step on, to climb to the top, there will be no one
left next to him. He’ll be all alone.
But, if Romero insists on playing with me, I’ll play right back. I won’t
be beaten by someone like him. And I certainly won’t allow him to move
Neal around like some piece on a chessboard. He will pay for what he’s
done to Neal and his family. I’ll help Neal in any way I can to bring down
the monster that is Romero Castellano.
I pour myself a glass of Scotch and down it, relishing in the burn down
my throat. Blazing a trail for the conviction coursing through my veins.
“This is far from over, boys.”
I turn to face them. “The key to Neal’s vengeance is in that room over
there, and we’re going to do everything we can to help him bring down the
murderer of his parents.” I don’t mention to them that Romero is my prime
suspect. I’ll do anything to make sure that truth comes to light.
“And if that someone is Seamus?” Hunter asks, still not convinced of
Seamus’ innocence.
“Then so fucking be it,” I bite out. “But we have more information on
the table now, it’s not as simple as Neal has always believed it to be.”
There’s more to the story now and knowing Neal, he’ll want to get to the
bottom of this as quickly as possible.
“So, what do you propose, doll?” Killian tugs uncomfortably on his
leather jacket. “I don’t want to go fucking things up with my Boss, my
brother.”
“We’ll start with Flynn.” Maybe he’s got something more to tell me,
something that might help us. He already trusts me more after I did
everything in my power to help him. People can say what they want, but
you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. “He’s got more
information, and I’ll spend the rest of the week getting it from him.”
“And Romero?” Hunter looks at me pointedly. “That man is not
someone you want to play with, Amelia.”
“I know.” He’s going to be a little tougher. One wrong move and I
might lose the people I love most in the world. “I’ll handle him. He might
be the Don, but he’s a man first.”
 And a man is nothing when facing the wiles of a woman.
“You two should get back to the city as soon as possible.” I glance over
my shoulder toward the door of the den, remembering the kill order. Neal is
going to feel more betrayed if they tell him that Flynn is still alive. But I
have to believe that he knows me better than that, that he knows that I’d do
anything for him. And I’m hoping the reason he said those two words to me
is because he doesn’t want Flynn dead.
“I’m not lying to him if he asks me anything, Amelia,” Killian states,
making sure I know his loyalty lies with Neal first, no matter how well we
get along with each other.
“And you shouldn’t. He needs to know he can trust his brothers.” I
don’t want him to lose any more people in his life. He should know that
he’s surrounded by people who would follow him anywhere. Because I’m
certain that when the time comes, the Castellano Family will stand behind
Neal, behind their new Don.
“I just want to check on Dwayne and Flynn before we leave.” Hunter
walks past me toward the den. Killian and I follow. It’s time to give Flynn
more medication. I’d have to make do with what we have until Neal’s
calmed down a bit more to deal with this more rationally. I just hope they
can behave themselves in there. Between the three of them, they have
enough wounds and bruises.
As he opens the door, it seems a bit too quiet. Hunter pushes the door
open and lets out a stream of angry curses. Reaching the doorway, it’s clear
the bed is empty. Only rumpled sheets and pillows are left strewn about.
Dwayne is slouched in the chair by the bed. A trickle of blood is running
down his head as the cold night air blows over us from the open window
behind him.
I’m frozen in place, not knowing where to go from here. Killian walks
over to Dwayne, touching the back of his head. As he lifts his hand, it’s
filled with crimson blood. “He was attacked from behind.”
I look between Hunter and Killian, the knowledge hitting me like a
thousand bricks.
“He had help.”
 The End

Turn page for sneak peek of Family that Binds: Cosa Nostra Series #2
 Neal
The elevator door closes smoothly behind me as I march toward my
bar in the living area. The housekeeper keeps the bar fully stocked and the
bottles rattle as I reach and grab the first one I lay my hands on. I don’t even
have the patience to pour myself a glass. I take a big gulp directly from the
bottle, the amber liquid burning down my throat.
And then another.
And another.
Until I feel the numbing effect moving through my body.
Resting one hand against the window, I look out over the lights of New
York City, so bright they light up the inside of the dark penthouse. I have
always felt like a King towering over his domain from up here, but not
tonight. Tonight, I’ll happily burn it all down.
I take another swig from the bottle when I hear the ping from the
elevators.
Not now.
I don’t have the patience to deal with anyone who might have my
keycode. I left Hunter and Killian at the estate, although it’s been a few
hours. So, it’s between my uncle and Salvatore. And God knows, if it’s
Salvatore, I’ll fucking kill him on the spot. My patience with that man is
wearing thin.
I spin around, fully prepared to murder the person who dares invade my
privacy, when my eyes land on her. Her dark hair flowing over her
shoulders, her stormy eyes, usually filled with fire, looks at me with
uncertainty.
“Why are you here?” I keep my tone clipped. Not wholly trusting
myself in her presence. She has the ability to make me forget who I really
am, and that’s something I can’t afford to do right now. “Did you kill him?”
She lifts her chin and answers with determination. “No.”
I stalk towards her, wrapping my free hand around her throat, pressing
her against the wall. “Why the fuck not?”
Having her so close to me, my body pressed against hers, caging her in,
is causing all thoughts of murder to leave my mind. All I can think about is
how good her skin feels, how she smells of vanilla and roses. Her pulse is
fluttering beneath my fingers and I can’t help but relish in the fact that her
heart beats faster at my touch. I lean in closer, whispering in her ear, “Why
did you choose to disobey me, Amelia?”
Her breath hitches at my closeness. “You know I’m not a killer, Neal.”
I know that.
I shouldn’t have asked her to kill Flynn. But a part of me wonders how
far she’ll go to prove her loyalty to me. I want her to do everything I say, I
want her to follow me, just as much as I want her to break free from this life
and run like hell in the opposite direction. I fear that if she does not, I will
never let her go.
I loosen my grip slightly, not wanting to drop my hand, afraid to stop
feeling her heartbeat react to my presence. “I know that. You’d never kill
anybody.”
She doesn’t say anything to that. I pull my head back, searching her
eyes for a reaction to my comment. Because as I said it, I wondered if it
were true myself. She stiffens slightly beneath my grip as a flash of
ambiguity crosses her blue-green eyes, which causes me to grin slightly.
“Or would you?”
I can see the war in her eyes, not knowing if she would. Which is an
answer in and of itself.
“Flynn’s gone,” she says to evade answering the question. “He
escaped.”
My hand slips from her throat, my body suddenly feeling cold as I step
away. Bringing the bottle to my mouth, I take a few gulps before wiping my
mouth with the back of my hand. “Where’s the other two idiots?”
“They’re downstairs. I wanted to be the one to tell you. Since I had an
order to kill him, and I didn’t.” She steps closer to me, standing tall. “So, if
you want to blame anyone, blame me.”
A tortured laugh escapes me. “Oh, I do blame you, Amelia.”
I run my hand through my hair, not believing the mess I’m in. “I blame
you for distracting me. I blame you for coming into my life at the wrong
fucking moment. I blame you for making me even consider throwing away
my duty, my vows to my Family.”
“Neal.” Her voice cracks as she takes a small step to close the distance I
created between us.
 “No!” My voice resonates through the penthouse as I throw the bottle
across the room. It hits the shelves behind the bar, causing the rest to
collapse and shatter into a million pieces.
Still, she moves closer, resting her hand on my chest, which is rising
and falling desperately, gasping for breath. “You should leave, Amelia.”
Her hand moves up over my face, forcing me to look at her. “I will
never leave.”
“You should.” I look into her eyes, willing her to understand. “I don’t
want you to see the monster inside of me.”
Her eyes search my face, not sure what to say. “I’ve seen you covered in
blood before, Neal. And I understand that you killed someone when you
were fifteen, when you were Made.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her statement. The innocence in her voice,
knowing the bare minimum of my crimes, of my life. “That’s nothing.”
Grabbing her shoulders, my fingers digging into her flesh, I try to make
her understand. “That’s fucking child’s play compared to what I’ve done,
who I have to become, to win this.”
Slight confusion crosses her face. “To win what, Neal?”
“To win the city.” Gripping her tighter, I look down at her innocent face.
“I will be the Don, Amelia. And after I take over the Family, I will take
over the Commission.”
“You were always going to be the Don, Neal, why do you have to
become a monster to run the Family?”
Chuckling, I push her away. “That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before everything!” I spread my arms, willing her to see all that’s
happened, every part of me. “Before I found out I was being used as a pawn
in someone else’s master plan.” I laugh at the thought. Romero should
never have underestimated me. “But not anymore. I will not stop until I’m
the Capi di tutti Capi. The boss of all bosses. I will rule this City.”
When she doesn’t say anything, I know she’s starting to understand, to
finally see who I truly am.
“And I will kill anyone who dares stand in my way.”
 Amelia

I thought the worst part of the evening would be me telling Neal that
Flynn escaped. That he would be disappointed in me, question my loyalty
and send me away.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Neal is convinced that he has to give up his humanity to win this war
with his uncle. A part of me understands that. I hate every part of it, but I
understand it. This is their world, their way. But the man I’ve come to care
for so deeply, is standing in front of me with his arms spread out, all but
declaring himself a demon. If he could just see that the darkness inside of
him will never drown out the light.
“Neal.” I move toward him, closing the gap he insists on creating
between us. “You need to understand that you’re not alone in this.”
A rough chuckle escapes his throat. “Who do I have left? My two most
trusted Capos, my brothers, make decisions behind my back, you can’t seem
to follow the simple orders I give you,” he laughs out loud, “and my uncle!”
He laughs at the cruel joke. “He’s been playing me from the very fucking
beginning. I’d be a fool not to consider him the killer of my parents. And
what does that say about my upbringing? My entire life has been a lie.”
No matter how much I want to, there’s nothing I can say to take away
the pain that monster has caused him, that is something that will have to
heal with time.
“Tell me, Amelia, please tell me, who do I have left?” Before I can
answer him, he answers himself. “I’ll tell you. No one.”
Fuck this.
From the very beginning, I have realized that I couldn’t stay away from
Neal. That I would follow this man into hell itself. And it’s clear that I
might have to do just that in order to save him from himself, from his
monster of an uncle. I’ll do everything in my power to remind him of the
fact that he’s not alone in this.
I walk over to him, throw my arms around his neck, and pull him down
towards me, kissing him with all my might. Breathing my determination
into him, taking away his pain and torture in return.
No one will ever be able to convince me otherwise. I know that Neal
was made for me, and that I have found the place where I belong. My body
fits perfectly in his arms as he folds his arms around me, pulling me into his
chest.
“I will never leave you, Neal.” I whisper in his ear as he kisses my
throat, feeling the pulse of my heart against his lips.
He walks me back against the wall, my back hitting it with enough force
for me to gasp slightly, causing our kiss to break. “You shouldn’t be
devoted to me. You should leave while you can.”
He pulls back slightly, and I look up into his eyes, seeing proof of the
emotions that contradicts everything he says, the emotions he doesn’t want
to voice. “Never.”
His gaze drops. “I still have to marry Arica.”
It doesn’t matter that I know he doesn’t care for her, or that he’s only
doing it out of a sense of duty, it still hurts to know that the man I love can
never be mine. That he still plans on marrying someone else, even if I know
he would choose me if he could. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes, my
heart breaking for him, for us.
“It’s a binding contract. One that will cost me my Family if broken from
my end. I am a man of my word. I always have been, and I always will be.”
“I understand.” What more is there to say?
Pick me? Choose me?
I know that Neal is a La Cosa Nostra man, and that means that he will
always choose his Family before love. That he will always choose his
Family, before me.
“And I will not do you the dishonour of asking you to stay by my side
while I am married. I have too much respect for you, Amelia.” He pushes a
strand of my hair behind my ear, searing my skin as he goes. “I have to let
you go.”
“I am stronger than you think, Neal.” It’s a lie. Especially when it
comes to him. I don’t know how I’ll be able to live, knowing that he is
bound to her forever. “So, when I’ve had enough, should be up to me.”
 “I don’t want this life for you.” He tries again but I won’t let him.
This life chose me as much as I chose it.
“Too bad. I am still your Associate. I still have something to offer you.”
I will my eyes to show any sign of strength, any last drop of determination.
“And I will do everything in my power to help you avenge the death of your
parents.”
Because, God knows, I will never let this man travel to hell and back
alone.
He bends his head, murmuring, “I don’t deserve you.”
“No, you don’t.” My hand moves over his jaw, his stubble grazing my
palm as I lift his face. “You deserve more.”
 Coming Next…
Family that Binds : Up for pre-order
Book #2 in Cosa Nostra Series
Release Date: 25 September 2021
Neal’s world is turned upside down when he finds out that the man he’s
hunted for most of his life, is not the one he seeks. With an unbreakable
contract and a task that Commission set for him, he takes his title as Don of
the Family. Will he forsake the woman he loves to claim his title? Or will
he and Amelia find a way to be together?

Official blurb and cover reveal to follow!

Pre-order link: https://books2read.com/u/bWrqoD

Love that Binds

Book #3 in Cosa Nostra Series
December 2021
Official blurb, release date and cover to be revealed!

Hunting You
Coming 2022
Cosa Nostra Series #4 Hunter and Olivia’s story

Surviving You
Coming 2022
Cosa Nostra Series #5: Killian and Liz’s story
 Acknowledgements
There are a lot of influences that made Loyalty that Binds, and the
whole Cosa Nostra Series, possible.
First, I have to thank my critique partner, my bookwife, and my UK
soulmate, Elle. This book would not have existed without you. I met you at
the right moment in life, with your encouragement and support through
each chapter I felt more and more like the author you believe me to be. One
of these days, I’ll be at your doorstep so that we can celebrate!
Then, a special thank you to my critique partner, Christina, for helping
me when I got panicked and overwhelmed with all the ins and outs that
comes with being an indie author. You’ve shown me the way on more than
one occasion and helped when things just didn’t make sense. Thank you for
setting your own edits aside to help with mine! I am forever in your debt!
Thank you to my husband, for watching the kids when I had to finish a
chapter, and for allowing me to spend every available minute immersed in
my Cosa Nostra World. And for nodding along when I get excited about
every small part of the new world I’m discovering. I love you.
To Kirsty, from Pretty Little Design Co, thank you so much for making
my vision come to life with the beautiful covers you’ve designed for the
series! Seeing it for the first time, made all this feel surreal!
To my beta readers, ARC readers & to you reading this right now.
Thank you for taking a chance on my story. I’m grateful for your love of
words and I’m honoured to share mine with you.
 About the Author
A.J. Wyatt is a romance author from South Africa with a love for
literary bad boys. She loves writing about men with a dark side, and
heroines who love them for it. When she’s not writing, she is the mother of
two little monsters who keep her on her toes! She lives on a farm, far away
from society, which allows her to dream up all kinds of stories and bring
them to life.

Connect with A.J. Wyatt

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https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21518731.A_J_Wyatt