Brutal Power – Arranged Marriage Mafia Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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He grins and finally meets my gaze. “You’ve always been like that, you know? You’re great at following rules so long as you think they’re worth following.”

“It’s my greatest super power, knowing which rules are worth breaking.”

“Tell that to Dad. It used to drive him nuts.”

“That’s because our father believed whatever he said was God’s honest gospel.” Although I don’t know what he thinks these days. After the attack, he’s been much humbler and more like himself. Still in pain from a gunshot wound that never healed right and still struggling to get around without pain drugs, but I think retirement suits him.

Simon finishes his glass of wine and puts it down. “The Quinns have deep ties with the Chicago Police Department, and right now we need all the help we can get keeping the cops off our fucking ass with the way this war’s been going. I just want to tell you again how much I appreciate what you’re doing. I know it isn’t easy, but this match is going to help our family win this war, and it’s going to make us stronger in the long run.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that. I’m not doing anything Davide didn’t already do.”

“True, but that worked out for him. And anyway—” He stops himself and looks down at the island.

“And this is your decision, but Dad’s the one who pushed Davide into his marriage, right? Simon, stop beating yourself up over it, please. I’m at peace with this decision.”

He takes a deep breath and blows it out. My oldest brother is a good man and a very good Don, but he’s new to the full responsibilities and he’s still finding his way. He doesn’t want to be like our father and he still tries to take advice and wants to make everyone happy, but that’s not leadership. Sometimes, when you’re the boss, you’ve just got to piss people off to get shit done.

“If you’re so at peace, how about you stop disobeying my orders?” he says and starts heading toward the door.

When he steps out onto my porch, I follow him but stop as he goes down the stoop. I squint out at the oasis, at our little home in the middle of the city. There’s still construction going on as all the damage done during Santoro’s raid gets patched over, but for the most part, life is returning back to normal.

“You’re doing a good job,” I tell him and he pauses down on the sidewalk.

“I wonder about that.”

“Seriously, nobody could’ve done better. That attack would’ve destroyed anyone else, but you’re holding it all together. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

He grunts, not looking back at me. “Thanks, Elena.”

I watch him walk away. My smile slowly fades and I bring my wine to my lips. Sometimes I wonder why I can’t let anyone take care of me the way I take care of everyone else, but that’s just not how I work. Simon’s stressed, and so I’ll tell him what he needs to hear so he can handle it better. But when he tries to make me feel like my sacrifices are worthwhile and important, I shut the conversation down.

That’s just how this goes. I’m the one helping my family, not the other way around. I shoulder some of their burdens so they’re not crushed under the weight of the stress constantly hammering them into the sidewalk, and I’m happy to do it. Only I wonder if I’m taking on too much.

“And that’s why I have you lovely ladies,” I say, going back inside to finish watering my plants. “So nobody thinks I’ve lost my fucking mind when they catch me talking to myself.”

Chapter 4

Elena

The black truck pulls over at the curb outside of my favorite coffee shop, and Matty moves to get out with me. “Don’t you dare,” I tell him as I go to slam the door.

“Elena,” he says, exasperated, and holds out a hand to stop me from shutting it on his legs. “You know I can’t let you go in alone.”

“You’re twenty feet away. There’s an enormous window. If something happens, you can come running in. I’m fine, Matty, it’s just La Colombe.”

He groans and stares up at the sky. “Can you please be reasonable? If Simon knew I let you go⁠—”

“Then he won’t ever find out. I’ll be back in five minutes, tops!” I hurry away before my guard changes his mind. Fortunately, Matty decides to listen for once and remains in the truck with the driver, while I step into a trendy coffee shop that smells like absolute heaven.

Ever since the war started, I can’t go anywhere alone. Even during my daily coffee run, which happens at eight in the morning sharp, mostly to give me an excuse to get out of the house. I always have at least one or two guys watching over me, and I understand why. Santoro’s been dangerous lately. I remember when he was like a member of our extended family, back when Dad used to spend hours with the man. They were practically inseparable.



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