Braden: A Dark Mafia Romance (6 page)

“Maybe if you went to college and got a job, your mother wouldn’t be so concerned about setting you up with a rich guy.”  My father replied with a snarky smile.

“Hey, how did we go from my best friend is missing to Angela needs to go to college and get a job?”  I grunted at him.  “I’ll figure something out…”

“I hope so.  Otherwise, you will have to marry Ronald.”  He stood up and walked to the kitchen to refill his coffee.

My future had been weighing on my mind quite a bit, but I would never have admitted it to anyone.  All of my friends had left high school and immediately went to work or started classes while I just got absorbed into the world around me.  Part of the problem was that I feared failure.  I wasn’t the brains of the family like Danielle and high school hadn’t been easy for me.  Squeaking by was good enough for graduation, but not good enough for a scholarship.  My parents could have afforded to send me anywhere I wanted to go, but that seemed like a waste of their money.  I scrolled through my phone for a few minutes and then got up, draining my coffee cup.  I could hear my father on his cell phone in the other room as I walked into the kitchen to refill it.  I leaned against the counter as my mind once again drifted back to Braden.  Braden had mentioned that his father knew mine, so when he walked back into the kitchen, I decided to see what else I could find out about the mysterious stranger that left bruises all over my body.

“Hey, dad?”  I asked.

“Yeah?”  He placed his coffee cup down and looked at me.

“Do you know anyone named Braden?”  I lifted my coffee cup and took a sip.

“Braden?  That name doesn’t ring a bell…”  He shook his head and shrugged.

“I think you know his father.”  I twisted my lip into a perplexed stare.  “Maybe he’s an attorney or something?”

“I mean, I work with a lot of attorneys, but I can’t say that I know every member of their extended family.  Who is he to you?”  He raised his eyebrows the way he did when he was suspicious of my questions.

“Just someone I met…”  I shrugged and tried to make the question seem innocent and nonchalant.

“Did you meet him at the party last night?”  He asked.  I had opened the door, and with my father, that was an invitation to ask more questions.

“Maybe…”  I looked away quickly.

“Honestly, I didn’t know half of the people there.  Don’t you generally give your number to people when you like them?”  He smirked a little bit and picked up his coffee cup.

“I might have forgotten to do that…”  I realized that we didn’t exactly trade pleasantries—it was more like hello, let’s fuck.

“If his father is an attorney and knows me, he won’t have any trouble getting in touch with you if he’s interested.”  He walked towards the living room.

Braden was definitely interested, or at least he was interested long enough to do things to me I could never tell my father about.  Just thinking about it made my pelvis start to tingle, despite the worry I had for Ronald’s safety.  I took a step forward and realized that the tingle had left me a little more excited than I realized.  I could feel the wetness between my legs.  I walked into the living room and picked up my cell phone before darting upstairs.  I fell back in bed and the thoughts came rushing back.  I could feel my body being pushed against the wall, his cock slamming into my pussy over and over until I was completely soaked in desire.  My breath picked up a little bit and I squirmed, squeezing my legs together.  Braden was so damn hot, and he had left an impression on me, despite the pain inflicted on my body.  I felt more tingling and closed my eyes before I realized it was my cell phone buzzing on the bed beside me.  I picked it up, thinking it would be Ronald.  I didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”  I greeted the mysterious number apprehensively.

“Hello, Angela.”  I knew the voice; it was unmistakable.

“Braden?  How did you get my number?”  I asked, but I really didn’t even care.  I was just happy to hear from him.

“I have my ways.  I’m going to send you an address.  Be there tonight at seven o’clock.”  The line went dead.

“Braden?”  I pulled my phone away from my ear and stared at it.  A text message popped up with an address.

Chapter 8:  Braden

After staring at Angela’s picture for several minutes, I shifted my gaze over to her father’s image.  He was the source of my hate and he deserved it.  I looked over at Danielle, Angela’s little sister, and contemplated making her my target.  She was a plain kind of pretty, not the ravishing beauty Angela was.  No, she simply would not do.  The pain would still be there for her father, but she would not look good in the headlines.  I needed a face that would make people take notice, and Angela certainly had the ability to captivate.  The message had to be clear.  It had to tug at the heartstrings and it had to instill fear.  How could the city trust a District Attorney to protect them when he couldn’t even keep his darling daughter alive?  I heard a knock at my door and when I opened it, I was surprised to see Don Abrami standing there.  He walked into my room without waiting for an invitation, not that he needed one.  Anything that belonged to a member of the Family belonged to him.

“Stefano tells me that you were not successful on your mission last night.”  He took a seat and I poured him a glass of whiskey.

“Unfortunately, I was not.  There were too many people around.”  I shook my head and poured a second glass for myself.

“Perhaps it was for the best.  Vengeance does require proper timing.”  He nodded as he took the glass and sipped it.

“It still has to be swift.”  I replied, stating something he said to Stefano after Mary was killed.

“I don’t know if the other Families will have your back on this one, Braden.  Killing the daughter of the District Attorney could have consequences for all five tables.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out two Cuban cigars.

“I know.”  I took one without hesitation and lit it up.  “But he intentionally got my father killed.  His name was on the document that stripped his protection in prison and threw him into gen pop.”

“He did, but he wasn’t the one who stabbed him.”  Don Abrami replied.

“Yeah, a fucking Eight-Baller shanked him in the shower, but guess what—Madison knew that would happen!  He knows we don’t have the numbers in prison, which is why we pay to keep them protected.”  I shook my head in rage.  “He declared war on the Mafia in his election campaign.”

“All politicians say that.  They use us to get elected, and then they take our money to keep the peace.  I agree that Madison needs to go, but a bullet would do the trick.”  Don Abrami lifted his cigar to his lips and puffed it, inhaling all of the smoke into his lungs before exhaling.

“He’ll get one, but he needs to suffer first.  He needs to know that his actions caused her to die, and he needs to grieve over her corpse.”  I drummed the edge of the chair and then puffed my own cigar.

“You’re a man who has felt pain, Braden.  Most would settle for just revenge, but you know what it is like to lose someone close.”  He shook his head back and forth.  “It has turned you into a sadist.”

“If you tell me to spare her life, I would do that.  I respect you as much as I respected my own father.”  I stared at him and narrowed my eyes.

“You know I can’t do that.  It is a violation of the code.  If this starts a war, we will handle it just like we’ve handled it since our father’s fathers stepped foot on American soil.”  He shrugged.  “He spilled your family’s blood, so our Family will respect your decision, whatever it is.”

“Thank you.”  I let smoke roll out of my lips.

“Your father didn’t want this life for you.  You know that, right?  He was proud of the soldier you were in Uncle Sam’s army and hoped you would choose a different path.”  Don Abrami tilted his head and nodded.

“I would have chosen a different path, too.  Mary’s death changed that…”  My words trailed off.

“Yes it did.  It changed things for you and for Stefano.  I’m proud to have both of you in the Family.  I could see either one of you sitting at our table one day.”  He continued to nod.  “Things didn’t use to be like this.  We used to get respect.  Harlem’s trash didn’t used to spill over to our streets.  These common thug gangs like the Eight-Ballers used to stay out of our way and settle for whatever we didn’t want.  All of the years the Five Families spent warring against each other made us weak.”

“We’ll get that back.  You’re the first man to be called Don in a long time.”  I nodded my head in respect.

“The unification of the Families kept them pacified for a while, but as we bicker among ourselves over territories and money, they get stronger.  It is only a matter of time until they hit us again like they did the day Mary died.”  He stood up.

“I’ll kill them all before I let that happen.”  I stood up and took his hand.

“Now that is something all Five Families will support you on.”  He clasped my shoulder and walked towards the door.

The day Mary died was still burned in my memories as if it was yesterday.  The heads of all Five Families were having the first sit down discussion in a long time, hoping to find some sort of common ground.  Just when the talks looked like they were headed in the wrong direction, the Eight-Ballers drove by the restaurant and opened fire.  I saw the van coming, but I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.  I was a different man then, still fresh from my last tour of Iraq and ready to begin a new life with Mary.  She was smiling at me when the first gunshot rang out, but her smile quickly faded and was replaced by blood.  She wasn’t a part of their war; she wasn’t a part of any war.  I was the soldier, and I was supposed to protect her.  It was that failure which brought on my rage, turned me into a monster, and pulled me into the Family.  Five years later, my father faced the same fate, a victim of a war ignited by Angela’s father.  I decided that I needed some distraction, so I picked up the phone and called downstairs.

“Hey, this is Braden.  Send a girl up to my room.  How about the one from last night, the blonde?  Thanks.”  I ended the call as they were going over details; I didn’t need to hear the details.  Pussy was pussy.

After the Five Families found common ground following the attack, Dario Abrami, the head of our Family, was named Don.  Everyone agreed that he would lead and make the final decisions regarding the direction of our cause.  Our compound, a house with a large underground network, became headquarters for the Mafia.  Single guys like Stefano and I could live there full time, while others came and went as needed.  It offered everything we could get in the outside world: booze, girls, and even drugs for those who liked that sort of thing.  Drugs really didn’t interest me, but I loved having an endless supply of liquor and the other things I desired.  I sat down in my chair and waited for the slut to arrive.  The feeling inside of me was hollow and empty.  I didn’t even care that there was a woman coming to take my cock.  It was barely more than a business arrangement.

“Braden?”  She asked as she pushed open my door.

“In here.”  I said and clicked off the lamp.  In the dimly lit room, she looked a little bit like Angela.

“I didn’t think you’d want me again; you didn’t seem to enjoy it very much last time.”  She said as she walked in.

“Take off your clothes.”  I said as I sipped my whiskey.

Pieces of her clothes began to hit the floor as I struggled to become aroused.  It had never been a problem before.  Normally the swelling would come if I simply thought about the relief it was going to bring.  The whore stood naked in front of me, and while she resembled Angela before I had been with the District Attorney’s daughter, she didn’t look anything like her anymore.  Angela was a vision of perfection and the woman in front of me was nothing more than a whore who had been used by every man in the building.  She disgusted me.  Instead of my cock getting hard, I felt it retracting inside, almost hiding from her visage.  There was no reason to undress or even stand up.  I knew the whore couldn’t do anything for me.  I sipped my whiskey as she got closer and each step revolted me further.  I held up my hand and made her stop.  I slowly moved my eyes up and down her body, trying to find something that would spark an interest.  Her breasts were fake, her lips were fake, and even her ass was fake.  I shook my head back and forth.

“No.  Get dressed and get the fuck out of here.”  I said angrily.

“What?  You made me come all the way up here just to turn me away?”  She looked shocked and confused.  I knew she had never felt rejection before.

“Look, whore.”  I stood up angrily, towering over her.  “Unless you want me to throw you down the fucking stairs, get dressed and get the fuck out of here!”  I roared with anger and pointed at the door.

Her face went pale and color drained from everything except for her collagen soaked lips.  She didn’t even bother to get dressed.  She practically tripped over her clothes and shoes as she gathered them up and ran towards the door.  I poured another glass of whiskey and sat down with rage building inside of me.  Angela’s face stared from behind my blade, taunting me with her smile.  How could one fuck turn me sideways?  I spat angrily towards the board and picked up Ronald’s cell phone.  It had been deactivated to avoid tracing, but it still had power left in it.  I flipped through the images on the phone, finding thousands of photos that contained Angela.  One by one my thumb slid across them, watching her life unfold in pictures.  Ronald had never bothered to purge them, and it appeared that her face persevered, even as the camera on his phone got better with upgrades.

“What a sad little dog you are, Ronald.”  I shook my head as I continued to thumb through them.

Ronald had clearly been obsessed with her since they were teenagers.  The oldest photos on the phone went back to 2008.  She was pretty, even back then, but she aged so well.  When I got to photos of her in a bikini, sitting on the edge of what appeared to be Ronald’s yacht, I felt myself getting aroused.  It was too bad that I had already sent the whore on her way, because I could have probably used her mouth at that point.  I kept scrolling through the photos, continuing to watch Angela’s life unfold.  At some point, Ronald went off to college, and she appeared in them less frequently, but eventually she became the main focus once more.  I sat there for what must have been hours, drinking and looking at her photos, feeling connected to her life in a way that I hadn’t felt since I lost Mary.  My rage returned when I found a picture of Angela handing an award to her father.  My head trembled with anger as his smiling face filled the screen next to her.  I looked at my watch and nodded.