Marrying the Mob Prince

Tony

2 oz bourbon

3/4 oz lemon juice

3/4 oz simple syrup

Garnish: Angostura bitters

Don’t waste it.

Christian’s words haunted me as I sat beside Evie in the waiting room, removed from his inconsolable family and Vinn, whose low, calm voice carried to our corner.

“Christian has the best doctors looking after him,” he assured a slender woman. “He’ll get the red blanket treatment. Mrs. Bianchi, this is Alessio Salvatore. He’s on the board of this hospital. He’s here to make sure your son gets everything he needs.”

My old college buddy stepped forward, shaking Mrs. Bianchi’s hand. After a few minutes, Vinn bowed out of the conversation. His scalding gaze scanned the rows of chairs and struck me. Glowering, he headed to my side. His forbidding glare seemed to have zero effect on Evie’s biker friend, who shot upright, blocking Vinn’s path.

“How is he?” demanded Jennesy.

Vinn ignored her. “We need to talk.”

I nodded and stood, walking with him a short distance away.

“He’s alive. In a coma.” Vinn rubbed his stubbled jaw. “Anthony, I don’t want that biker bitch hanging around. She has to go.”

I glanced at Jennesy, who glared at us. “There’s no harm in letting her sit here. Christian could use the support.”

“Don’t tell me what he needs, you selfish piece of shit. It’s your fault he won’t survive.” Vinn slammed his palm into my chest. “I hope your dinner was worth it. Fucking junkie. This is a new low for you.”

I’d never be anything else to this asshole.

“I’m tired of repeating myself, so I’ll make myself clear. I am sober. I made the reservation under a fake name. Our guards were at the table beside us. They weren’t paying attention. The shooter walked right up to us!”

He shoved me again, dislodging the last of my patience.

I sank my fist under his ribs.

Vinn dropped, gasping. He was like Ozymandias, staring at me like he could hardly believe I had it in me.

“I’m not an easy target anymore. Hit me, and I hit back.”

He shot me a look full of bile as he staggered upright. “Good. Gives me the perfect excuse to finally get rid of you.”

“You don’t scare me, Vincent. Everybody thinks you’re a hardened criminal but you’re just a sad, jealous little boy who hates me because I have the one thing you can’t buy-a direct line to the throne.”

Alessio grabbed Vinn as he launched at me. “Anthony, that’s enough!”

“Not nearly enough for this judgmental prick!”

“Anthony, for fuck’s sake. Stop. He’s the boss.”

Eviscerating Vinn was effortless. He’d had a hard-on for me ever since I could remember, because I had the good life and he had nothing. I had the girls, the money, the expensive cars, everything the dipshit wanted.

Apparently, it didn’t matter that I shared the wealth. It must’ve killed him that I still had veto power over his business, which was ironic because I didn’t want to be a don.

“If Christian dies that blood is on your hands.” Vinn’s chest billowed under Alessio’s outstretched arm. “Get that girl out of here. Or I will.”

Fine.

I hated him, but his wintry disapproval sliced me to the bone. Without another word, he left and rejoined his captains. I ignored the hollow in my stomach and approached the girls.

Jennesy had smudged her makeup with the same filthy tissue, and the sight of it somehow dissolved my anger. I took out the packet of tissues I’d bought in the pharmacy for Evie and offered it to her.

“Thanks,” she whimpered, burying her sob in Kleenex. “Is Christian-?”

“He’s in a coma. Might not make it through the night.” I grasped her forearm and she stood, blinking rapidly. “I’m sending you home with my associate, Rafael.”

“But I want to stay here.”

“The Family doesn’t want you here, hon. I’m sorry. It’s not up to me.”

The anguish twisting her expression told me she understood. She nodded. “You’ll keep me updated?” she asked Evie. “And tell him I was here. That they made me leave.”

“I will.”

They hugged.

Then I dragged her to Rafael, Christian’s best friend. The stocky young man blinked when I shoved her into his arms.

“Get her out of here. Make sure she’s all right, and take her wherever she wants.”

His mouth thinned as he coaxed a weeping Jennesy into leaving.

Christian was hanging onto life.

I couldn’t take it in.

I walled off the agony.

His sacrifice wouldn’t be for nothing.

I’d forgotten my purpose during the last six months, but it reemerged in clear outlines. I had one goal-to disrupt human trafficking. I’d accomplished jack shit because I’d been distracted by a glimmer of what-could-have-been.

The bodies around me kept piling up, and if I didn’t do something, Evie would be next.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

I strode to my wife’s side and forbade my will to tremble. I stroked her hair. Her beautiful face tipped toward me, tears streaking her cheeks.

Don’t waste it.

My throat tightened. “Let’s walk.”

I motioned to the private security recommended by Cainan, two former Marines with torsos bigger than redwoods. They followed as we left the sanitized stench of hospital rooms and strolled outside.

“I did this to him,” she whispered, crumbling. “It’s my fault. You didn’t even want to go. I dragged us there, and now he’s in a coma.”

“Evie, honey…you’re not the one who pulled the trigger. If anything it’s my fault. I knew it wasn’t safe but I took you anyway. I want you to have everything, and it’s fucking with my judgment.”

“I suggested it. I’m-I’m a monster.”

“I never want to hear you call yourself a monster again. I’m the bastard. On our first date, I shoved you to the floor and fucked your mouth. I saved you from traffickers only to fuck you while you wore a collar they gave you. You don’t know that I use a large amount of energy trying not to murder every biker I come across. You don’t know how many people I’ve blackmailed and ruined to get what I want. I have to stop myself from doing terrible things to men who so much as look at you. Evie, you have no idea.”

“You didn’t do this.”

“Yes, I did. They’re after me and they won’t give up until I’m dead. That’s why we have to… we can’t be together anymore.”

Hurt lay naked in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m sending you away,” I croaked, my chest caving in. “You’ll be free of this, just like you always wanted. I’m setting you up at a place where you’ll be taken care of and safe.”

“I’m not leaving!”

“Evie, how do you think I’d feel if it were you in that hospital bed?”

“I don’t care,” she burst, her moods shifting so quickly I couldn’t keep track. “I’m not going anywhere unless you’re coming, too.”

“I want to run away with you. I wish-God, Evie-I am not a man who wishes for things, but when I’m around you…I wish I could have a normal life. I’d leave all this to have that with you, but they’ll find me wherever I go.” I had to see this through, no matter how badly it hurt. “You’ll start over without me.”

My heart shrank as despair glazed her voice. “You made me fall in love with you. Now you’re throwing me out?”

“Evie, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I hate this. Letting you go will kill me but I’m being hunted by everyone in this city. And I have issues…stemming from my captivity that I’ve never resolved. I can’t have you around me when I lose control.”

She still looked at me like I hung the moon in the sky. She stroked my head, thumb grazing my eyebrow, and I took a deep breath. She felt so good, and the joy sparked a vain hope.

No.

I doused it with ice and backed away from her intoxicating influence.

“Evie, it’s done.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Well, I’m not giving you a choice.”

Tears glistened on her pale cheeks as she began to cry. I couldn’t handle the sound of her lungs, desperate to catch air. A vivid memory of Christian gasping tightened my throat.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You won’t understand unless you’ve lived through it. And I don’t want you to.” I cupped her tear-streaked face and kissed her cheek. “I love you. I love you so much you would be scared to hear my thoughts.”

I nodded at the men hanging in the peripherals.

“Go with them,” I ordered her, my voice hitching. “You’ll be all right.”

“Tony, this is stupid! My life is in Boston. I’m not-stop it!” She slapped their attempts to lead her to the car. “Tony!”

“You’ll return when it’s safe.”

But I wouldn’t be around.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” she bellowed as they peeled her off the wall. “Let me go!”

“Sorry, Evie.”

“Tony, you can’t! Please don’t do this!”

The guards restrained my wife, the sight stabbing my chest. I closed my eyes when she screamed, unable to watch as they dragged her into the waiting van.

When I opened my eyes, a haze of tears obscured her from view. I blinked them away and sank on the curb, hollow and weakened. I’d ripped her out of my life, but my heart would never stop loving her.

I’d wanted justice.

All I got was heartbreak.

They say that the best revenge is to have enough self-worth not to seek it. I tried, but the MC tested the monster in me. I’d done too much damage. There was no way out. I dug my own hole too deep and I wouldn’t drag the woman I loved down with me.

Goodbye, Evie.

* * *

Jett was killing time at The Cuff.

Time to put the fucker where he belonged-behind bars. Snitching on my enemies wasn’t my style, but my love for Evie wouldn’t let me kill him. I couldn’t hurt her, even if she wasn’t in my life anymore.

My stomach hardened with a nauseating ache that’d gripped me ever since the hospital. It was like withdrawing from heroin. The fix was right there. The need to go to her burned in my veins like fire, and no matter how often I told myself I’d get through this-I wouldn’t. I couldn’t enjoy life without her. Hell, she was the reason I looked forward to waking up.

I cased the black building in Chinatown. In my youth, I’d visited every strip club in Boston but steered clear of this spot because of the faded paint on the door marking it as a one-percenter hangout.

I’d listened to countless horror stories from the girls at Sanctum. Strippers invited who had made the mistake of accepting that invitation to this bar by outlaws worked without pay, were drugged, gang-raped, and often beaten. Those who stuck around were fed a steady diet of drugs and coerced into prostitution, just like the club girls.

My phone buzzed.

I answered it, holding my breath. “Hey.”

“Is it done?”

Cainan’s voice, not Evie’s husky whisper.

My insides clenched with disappointment. “They’re on their way. Judge Gilstrap issued the warrant five minutes ago.”

“This will be a huge blow to their morale.”

I didn’t care. “They’ll have a new president in an hour.”

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m there. Watching.”

“Tony,” he warned. “Don’t.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“I know you. Self-destruction is your favorite defense mechanism.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Freud.”

I hung up and got out of the car. I stood on the street. An edgy, twitchy feeling crept over my limbs. I let it overtake me as I strode to the bouncer.

I showed him my license. His dull eyes barely flicked at it before he stepped aside. Faint shock rippled down my spine as I stepped into the club. Flashing lights illuminated feminine silhouettes, twirling on stage. Bikers drooled over the strippers, ignoring me as I climbed to the office. Nobody guarded the door.

I shoved it open.

A girl bobbed between a man’s widespread legs, giving head. Jett leaned back on a sofa, his skin flushed. His fingers were knotted in her hair and her face was a mess of tears and mascara.

I unholstered my Glock and pointed it at him.

Jett’s eyes slid into focus, as though wondering if I were really there and not a mirage. Then he shoved her aside and yanked his jeans over his cock.

“Costa. You’re alive.”

“Disappointed?” I ripped off my coat and handed it to the girl crawling toward the door. “Call yourself a cab and get out of here.”

She wrapped herself in my jacket and took off.

Jett stared. “How the hell did you get in?”

“Bouncer didn’t even recognize me. You must be scraping at the bottom of the barrel for prospects.”

“That’s your fuckin’ fault,” he said hoarsely. “Where’s my daughter?”

“Gone.”

“Gone where?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I growled, my arm trembling from not squeezing the trigger. “She’s out of my life forever.”

“She’s dead?”

I remained silent, seething. I wanted him to know that he would never see Evie again, but clearly, Jett didn’t give a flying fuck. A flicker of remorse wrinkled his brow as he hiked up his pants.

He didn’t care.

I grappled with the urge to fire between his legs, but he’d bleed out before I got anything useful out of him. I promised myself I wouldn’t kill him, so I compromised. I pistol-whipped his jaw.

His bearded face twisted with agony, and he fell out of the chair. As he flailed on the floor and cried, I stared through the blinds in the parking lot. Six Harleys rolled up. Six leather- and denim- clad figures jumped off their bikes, running toward the entrance.

I was numb to the danger, emotionally depleted. I had nothing left. I was tired. So fucking tired. I just wanted it to end.

“Guess they figured out that you’re going to jail. I wonder how long it’ll take for someone to shank you in the chow line? Oh well, not my problem.”

Jett gaped at me, his neck flushing. “You snitched on me?”

I was well aware of the code of honor against talking to the police, but I’d stopped caring about that bullshit years ago.

I shrugged. “What can I say? Dad raised me to be an upstanding citizen.”

His lip curled. “You won’t outlive the weekend!”

“Well, you gave it your best effort, and I’m still here.”

“Evie will never forgive you!”

Would she?

I wasn’t sure. I had a hard time thinking at the moment.

“Cops will be here any minute, but first I have to clarify a few things.” I backed away from the window and faced him. “Where is Evie’s mother?”

Jett paled. “What?”

“I know you trafficked her.”

I’d suspected it since Evie told me that story about her mother. Then I found out a week ago. One of Knox’s genius innovations had been an algorithm used by law enforcement to match women’s faces to images and videos online. I hadn’t told Evie what I’d found. Evie didn’t need the guilt of her mother’s disappearance on top of everything else.

I knelt beside him, searching for regret in those fathomless black eyes that reminded me so much of my wife. My stomach turned. “Who did you sell her to? Please, God, tell me it wasn’t K.”

“I never sold her. I gave her to him.”

Rage rippled through me, and I swung my arm.

My gun caught Jett’s nose, shattering it. He spasmed, clutching his face as it streamed with blood. He rocked on the floor and moaned.

“Why?” I bellowed, my voice breaking. “Is nothing sacred to you? How the fuck do you do that to your child?”

“I love my daughter,” he groaned. “Vicky-she wanted to take off with my kid!”

“You made her a slave.”

“I had to get rid of her. He promised me he wouldn’t kill her, and that I’d never see her again.” He raised his palm as I aimed the gun at him. “Don’t. Please.”

He’d condemned her to slavery because she dared to dream of a better life. These fucking people. How long before Evie would’ve pissed him off and he’d done the same to her?

“Did you arrange to have Evie trafficked?”

“Are you crazy? She’s my daughter!”

“Since when has that meant anything to you?”

Kill him.

I really wanted to, but it wouldn’t do Evie any justice. Or her poor mother. Thinking of them shattered my rage. I holstered my gun as red and blue lights flashed into the office.

Numb, I left, descending into the club still pulsing with rock music. Cops swarmed the interior, tearing the place apart. Detective Cobane, a man in his late forties with a wide jaw, nodded at me. I stood by my car as cops rounded up everyone in a leather cut.

Evie would’ve been grateful for the lack of violence. She always brought joy to every moment. A sick yearning assaulted me. I missed her already. Why the hell had I sent her away? I should’ve felt good about doing the right thing, but it made me physically ill. I couldn’t breathe without my lungs aching.

This was a mistake.

I needed her more than ever.

“Tony.”

Cainan clasped my shoulder, peering at me. His blatant otherness stalled me. He wore a polo and khakis, his auburn hair sparking under the dying sun. All the cars had vanished. The cops had disappeared, and I hadn’t even noticed.

“What are you doing here?”

“You wouldn’t answer your phone. I got worried.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look well, T.”

I must’ve looked like shit. “I’m all right.”

“You’re not. Let me give you a lift home.”

Cainan guided me to his BMW. He opened the passenger-side door, which struck me as strangely courteous until I slid into the seat.

And stared into a loaded barrel.