Romeo The Mafia Casanova

Romeo’s [POV]

Now “Can someone please explain why nobody fucking took care of this?” I threw the box onto Andrei’s desk and waited. His eyes narrowed in on the associates that were scattered around the office. “Oh, I apologize. Am I interrupting?”

“Well, we were planning world domination, but sure, go ahead, get pissed about a box.” Phoenix Nicolas stepped out of the shadows. Hell, things must be bad if he hopped on a plane out of Chicago to get here. He was their boss and the only man in the Cosa Nostra who dealt with secrets.

He knew everything.

About everyone.

He had folders on every associate, every boss, and every captain. It wouldn’t even shock me if he had a fucking folder on every world leader. It was his currency, so the very fact that he was there at that meeting meant he was either having a friendly visit with Andrei, or he was revealing more secrets that would get someone in that room killed.

“Ah, Phoenix.” I held out my hand, and he shook it. “Business or pleasure?”

He licked his lips and grinned, then ran a hand through his wavy brown hair. “I’m a married man. It’s always business.”

“Are you saying I’m not pleasing?” Andrei scoffed.

Phoenix just rolled his eyes. “Course not, it pleases me greatly to see you pissed like you are right now. See? Pleasure, it is!”

Andrei clenched his jaw and turned his icy blue stare toward me. “What’s this?”

“This is everything we’ve been trying to protect Eden from. There were bank documents. She saw more than just what we allowed her to see.”Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Andrei slammed his hands onto the desk. “The hell, Marco? You were supposed to deal with this! Burn anything that leads back to Eden! Were those not my exact words?”

The guy who stepped up was in a full black suit, looked to be around mid-twenties, and if my calculations were correct, about five seconds away from shitting his pants. “I don’t know how I missed it; we swept his computer, the rest of the files, and-”

My fist flew before I could even tell my body to restrain itself.

Because it was Eden.

Because it could have put her in danger.

Because it could have broken her heart.

From the very fucking grave he rested in.

Men moved out of the way as my left hand followed my fist, grabbing onto his pristine black collar and tugging him across the floor until I was near the only wall that didn’t have books displayed.

I kicked him in the stomach, sending him into the drywall, his head knocked back with a resounding crack. I caught Marco as his body slumped forward and punched him again, this time in the nose. Blood instantly started spurting down his lips.

He stumbled next to the bookcase, trying to get his bearings, and knocked over a vase that was placed on the second shelf. It crashed to the floor.

“Hope that wasn’t a family heirloom,” I said, reaching for him again, knocking my head against his twice before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Meh.” Andrei waved his hand. “It’s replaceable. Do continue.”

I shoved Marco to the ground and put my heel on his throat.

“Motherfucker, next time you won’t be so lucky.” I spat in his face, pulling my foot away, then adjusted my shirt, tucking it back into my trousers; I cracked my knuckles.

I stepped over the body. “Always a pleasure, Andrei.”

“That was him being lucky?” someone whispered under their breath.

My lips twitched.

“They say he’s both lover and fighter, a sinner not a saint. Take a look around, gentleman,” Andrei exclaimed. “And remember, to piss off a Sinacore is to sign your death sentence.”

I hesitated at the door, turned, and nodded my head at Andrei, earning a respectful nod back as I made my way through the club.

A sense of peace washed over me.

The last remaining piece of evidence would be dealt with.

The men saw what would happen if they fucked up.

And my blood lust was cooled-for now.

I spent the rest of the day working, making sure Tristian’s tracks were covered. Day quickly turned night by the time I was walking through Eden’s front door. She was standing there with a black apron covering an enticing knit black dress. Leaning over the table.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her smile as she adjusted the food like a pretty picture.

It was suddenly ruined by a loud screaming at the top of Naz’s lungs that he nearly starved to death, but I still smiled at the scene.

At what should have been.

Could have been.

What I fucking gave up.

And for what?

A dead brother?

An equally dead heart?

I wondered at that moment what it would take to earn a seat in that pretty picture.

Or if it was too late altogether for a man like me, a sinner like me, to sit with the saints.

No, not saints…

Angels.