Braden: A Dark Mafia Romance (3 page)

“What the hell?”  I pulled away.

“Well you have to give them something to think about.”  Her adjustment had made my breasts pop out and lowered my neckline enough to expose my cleavage.

“I don’t think it is quite as easy as showing a pretty face—or a pair of half-naked breasts—to the room.  Men want something else now.  You have that, you’re married to the District Attorney, and so they know you have his ear.  I’m just his uneducated daughter who knows more about making the perfect cocktail than rubbing shoulders with the elite.”  I shrugged and sighed.

“There’s always Ronald.”  She looked over at me and turned the edge of her mouth into a slight grin.

“Ronald won’t even return my calls.”  I dug out my phone and stared at it again.

“Maybe he’s just playing hard to get and giving you something to think about.”  She nudged me with her elbow.

“He’s not that smart, mother.”  I stared into the crowd again and then tapped her arm.  “Who is that?”

“Who?”  She followed my arm, but when I looked back again, he was gone.

“Nobody, I guess.  I swear there has been this guy looking at me all night, but he’s always in the corner of my eye.”  I scanned the room with my brow wrinkling in frustration.

“There are a hundred men in this room, Angela.  I’m sure it is just your eyes playing tricks on you.”  She started towards the stairs.  “Your father is trapped between a personal injury attorney and a lobbyist.  I have to go save him.”

Her real concern, of course, was that both of them were beautiful and flirting with my father.  They were peas in a pod, and that is what made them perfect for each other.  I sighed and walked towards the stairs that led to the upstairs area of the Grand Ballroom.  With my mother and father distracted, I could sneak away for a cigarette.  Neither of them would have approved, but I always kept it a secret.  The only person who knew was Ronald, who constantly scolded me for my habit, despite the fact he kept a lighter in his pocket for me.  The music played below me as I stepped into the darkness.  I had attended enough events at the Grand Ballroom to know that the upstairs was always closed off during the evening, and there were a few windows that could be pushed open a little bit.

“Where the fuck are you, Ronald?”  I said angrily as I cracked a window and lit my cigarette, furiously firing off another text message to him.

In great detail, and with a good bit of profanity, I laid into him like I usually did when I was slightly intoxicated.  I told him that I was at the Grand Ballroom and he was a bastard for not returning my texts.  Once it was sent, I stared at it and waited for a replay.  For some reason I believed my increased anger would be transmitted in the text and bring a response.  Instead I was met with more silence.  I furiously smoked my cigarette and cursed him with every word I could think of from asshole to useless.  I didn’t get to finish the alphabet in my head because I heard someone coming up the stairs.  I crushed out my cigarette and fiercely swung my arms in the air to get rid of the smoke.

“I wondered where you ran off to.”  A voice pierced the darkness.  A second later, I saw steel colored eyes illuminated by the dim light from the window.

“You…”  I said as he walked into view.  “You’ve been watching me all night.”

“I have.”  He admitted as he stepped into the light and lit a thin cigar.

“Wait a second, I know you!  You were at the Maroon the other night.”  I remembered him approaching me, and remembered Ronald stepping in to let him know I didn’t need another drink.

“I was…”  He nodded as he exhaled smoke.  “And now we’re both here.  Maybe that’s fate.”

“Fate?  More like stalking.  I’m Angela.”  I dug into my purse for another cigarette and he lit it as soon as it touched my lips.

“I’m Braden.  Where is your boyfriend?  Shouldn’t he be running me off about now?”  He pushed the window open further and held his cigar up to it, brushing past me as he did.

“Ronald?  Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.  He’s just my overprotective best friend.”  I smiled and narrowed my eyes at him.

“Of course he is.  You’re far too beautiful for him.”  Braden cracked a smile and leaned against the wall.

Braden didn’t look like he belonged in the Grand Ballroom.  There was something off about him.  His tuxedo was new and didn’t look like it had ever seen a dry cleaner’s starch.  There was a faint wrinkle underneath his neckline which would have easily been erased if it was pressed.  I could also see a tattoo peeking out from the edge of his cuff when he held his cigar up to the window.  When I saw him at the club, he was dressed like every other douche dancing under the lights, and his current attire looked like it wouldn’t have even been in that guy’s closet.  Maybe that should have been enough of a warning, but when his steel colored eyes were looking into my emerald gems, I felt like I was almost entranced.  The silence between us was almost electric and I had to take a step back from him just to feel like I could speak again.

“You’re not here by accident, are you?  This isn’t fate.”  I blew smoke towards the window as he tilted his head.

“No.  I guess you see right through me, don’t you?”  He laughed a little bit.  “I know who you are and who your father is.”

My heart started beating into my ears.  “Oh?”

“My father is…”  He lifted his eyebrows slightly.  “An associate of his…  When I heard about this event, I just couldn’t pass it up.”

“So what are you then?”  I glared at him and rolled my eyes upwards as I tried to figure out the mystery.  “I’m guessing you’re the son of an attorney or a lobbyist?  The rebel without a cause, spending your father’s money?”

“Nah, I have a cause.”  He smirked and took another drag off of his cigar. “Right now that cause is figuring out what I have to do convince you not to go back downstairs.”

Every muscle in my body told me I should just leave the mysterious Braden standing there by the window and rejoin the crowd downstairs.  Ronald had already vetted him with a glance and sent him on his way a few days prior.  Unfortunately, Ronald wasn’t there to tell me whether the electricity I felt was because of the champagne flowing through my veins or something primal.  Braden was mesmerizing, and it had been a while since I had felt any sort of attraction towards a man.  I was so used to the rich boys trying to score with the size of their daddy’s wallet that it had practically sealed my legs closed when I wasn’t pleasuring myself.  I could tell there something different about Braden.  He carried himself with a certain confidence that seemed to be genuine—plus his bowtie was the exact shade of purple I loved.  What did Ronald know anyway?  He had an agenda that involved my heart and what was between my legs—even if they were out of his league.  I felt both of them twinging as Braden tilted his head and looked into my eyes, drawing me further into his steel colored gaze. 

Chapter 4:  Braden

A few hours earlier.

Ronald had given me all of the information I needed about Angela Madison.  His knowledge of the woman he loved was enough to draw her into my trap.  In a way, I felt sorry for him.  He had spent his life chasing a pussy he couldn’t conquer.  With his father’s money and his place as heir to it all, he could have had a million bitches swallowing his cock.  Instead, he just threw away all of that potential pursuing the one he wasn’t man enough to take.  I wondered if I should deliver it to him in a box when it was all over so that he had something to remember her by.  No, that was too cruel, even for me.  The Dentist would have gotten the information whether it came with pain or terror; Ronald was fortunate that he was such a weak, pathetic human, because it had spared him an awful lot of torment.  I stood by the mirror positioning my purple bowtie. 

“Where the hell are you going?”  A voice cut into my thoughts.

“This doesn’t concern you, Stefano.”  I slipped my jacket over my shoulders.

“No, but it does concern me.”  A man walked past Stefano and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

“Don Abrami?”  I turned and drew a hurried breath.  “What are you doing here?”

Don Abrami was the boss, someone that we were all forced to respect, but mine was genuine.  He had been a father figure to me after I returned from Iraq, helping me get integrated into the family.  My real father certainly helped, but Don Abrami was always a mentor.  I had a long way to go before I was man enough to follow in my father’s footsteps, but I intended to sit at Don Abrami’s table one day, just as he once did.  He looked me over from head to toe, nodding as if he was pondering my costume for the evening.  He knew what I intended to do, even if I hadn’t told him everything.  My actions had been clear enough when I hauled Ronald into one of our cells and placed a call to The Dentist.  Whatever information he lacked from that was likely filled in by Stefano.

“Braden, we will get vengeance for your father.  You don’t have to do this.”  He placed his hands on his hips and stared at me.

“The District Attorney has to pay for what he did.”  I said angrily as the rage ignited.  “He knows how it works.”

“We can’t buy everyone, Braden.”  Don Abrami sighed.  “Mr. Madison has it out for all five families.”

“He should be more concerned about his own family.  He took my father from me.  He might not have been the one who wielded that shank, but he might as well have been.  He will feel the pain I feel.”  I blinked rapidly to stop the rage from turning my face red.

“It is your right to punish the man who is responsible for your father’s death, but you don’t have to be the one who kills her.”  Don Abrami placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I want him to know why he mourns for her.  I want him to know that his actions have consequences.  It has to be me.”  I felt my rage continue to boil.

“Let me do it.”  Stefano took a step forward.  “Tell me how you want it done, and I’ll paint the city with her blood.”

“I appreciate the offer, Stefano, but I need this.”  I looked at Don Abrami.  “You understand, right?”

“I do…”  He nodded.  “But, son…”

“As you said, it is my right.”  I shook my head back and forth.  “If you tell me not to do it, I’ll respect that, but unless that is why you’re here, I have to go.”

“The rules are the rules, Braden.  A son has the right to seek vengeance for his father’s death, regardless of whether I agree with it or not.”  He dropped his hand from my shoulder.  “It is our code.”

“This could start a war.”  Stefano said with a sigh.

“We fight wars every day.”  Don Abrami said.  “We’ll always fight them.  It doesn’t matter if the enemy is one of our own choosing or one who chooses us.”

“He made the wrong choice.”  I walked past them and lit a cigar as I headed towards the garage.

Despite what they said, I knew they both understood why I had to kill Angela Madison.  Her death was the message her father needed to see.  He was given an opportunity when he was elected to take his cut and look the other way.  Instead, he spoke of bringing down our empire and watching it crumble.  My father wasn’t the first one he had locked up, but he seemed to want to make an example of him.  In our line of work, prison was a badge of honor, but we expected protection while we were on the inside.  The District Attorney had stripped that protection from him and threw him in with the animals where one of them shoved a shank in his stomach.  The one who did it had already choked on his own blood.  I saw through all of that and I saw the one who was really responsible.  He was the one who had to pay the ultimate price.

“The Grand Ballroom.”  I said as I sat down in my seat and looked at Ronald’s phone.  It was full of text messages and missed calls from Angela Madison.

“Right away sir.”  My driver cranked the car and started driving towards my destination.

As we drove, I listened to Angela’s voicemails and read her text messages.  There was a certain sense of desperation in them.  Ronald had been her little bitch so long she didn’t know how to live without him.  It was a waste really; there were plenty of women who would have loved to have someone as sweet and caring as him focused on their every need.  What Ronald didn’t realize was that all he had to do was ignore her.  Two days without him had turned her into a needy, vulnerable child.  Unfortunately, that would be her undoing.  Her white knight wouldn’t be there to chase me away the second time I got close to her.  I fingered the switchblade in my pocket and smiled.  She would feel it inside of her soon enough and she would draw her last breath knowing she was paying for her father’s sins.

“Right there.”  I pointed to the side entrance as my driver got close.

They didn’t have security posted.  Why would they?  They were so arrogant they didn’t understand what kind of monster they had unleashed into their world.  The party was a glorified hand job for the richest fuckers in the city.  The District Attorney thrived on their contributions, yet he wanted to be the one who commanded them.  They were so deep in his cunt that they didn’t see they were the ones getting fucked.  He would take their money, get reelected, and then give them favors that weren’t worth half of what they paid to get him office.  His predecessor had been a lot smarter and he had taken our money when we offered it.  He knew the law degree on his wall and the fancy chair he sat in wasn’t worth anything if they were covered in blood.  District Attorney Madison would have to learn that New York City belonged to us and he couldn’t even protect his own family, much less his city.

“There she is…”  I muttered to myself as I locked my eyes on her for a moment and then disappeared into the crowd.

Her ignorance was almost cute.  She thought that she was being sly by sneaking to the bar and disappearing behind a pillar to swallow her champagne.  Nobody paid her any attention except for an old fucker who eventually worked up the courage to pull her onto the dance floor.  He was smart enough to ignore her when she first tried to get his attention, and she practically threw herself at him to get a dance.  I was sure he had bedded a hundred princesses like her, but he was smart enough not to turn her into a victim.  That could have been catastrophic for whatever favor he asked for when he slipped her father a check.  I kept my eyes locked on her, always away from her glance.  All I needed was a moment, and that moment came when I saw her sneaking up the stairs once her father and mother were deep in conversation with faces in the crowd.  I recognized one of the women who flirted with her father; her face was on billboards, begging for someone to call after they had a car accident.