Michelle Antonelli: A Dark Mafia Romance (Brutal Attachments Book 4) by Z.Z. Brulant

Author:Z.Z. Brulant [Brulant, Z.Z.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LFD Romance Books
Published: 2023-02-21T00:00:00+00:00

12. Philippe

Since we arrived at the border crossing before noon, there weren't many cars in line. We didn't have to wait long to have all of our documents checked and finally be granted entry.

I could see the look of relief on Michelle's face when the customs official handed her passport back to her.

I kept one hand on the steering wheel and rubbed her thigh with the other one.

“That was the easy part,” I said as I followed the signs pointing toward Montreal. “Things are going to get a lot more tense than that.”

“I can't wait,” she said with a mix of fatigue and acceptance.

It would be another couple of hours until we arrived downtown. I had already booked a week-long stay at a luxury hotel that allowed pets, Le Saint-Suplice. I figured that would be a nice place for us to rest and recoup over the next few days. Since the streets weren't really safe for us, the only time that we would leave the hotel would be to walk Joey. Apart from that, we needed to spend all our time in the room, at least until I could find an even safer place for us to hide out.

The idea of heading to the rural parts of Quebec had crossed my mind. But I felt that being isolated in the country would make us easier to attack than here in the densely populated city. If they were going to kill me in the city, they would have to be really brazen. Only time would tell if they had the balls for something like that.

“You said your dad was an immigrant from Florence, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Is that why he got involved in the underworld? That's how things started in my family.”

I shook my head bitterly. “No, it wasn't like that at all. He never wanted anything to do with criminals.”

She turned toward me, her eyes wide with surprise. “So how did you end up—”

“So screwed up?” I said, cutting her off.

“Something like that,” she replied.

I spent the next twenty minutes explaining how my father had been tricked into taking part in the drug trade. How his dream and his lack of access to capital had been weaponized against him by the very people that he thought he could trust. Eventually, his desire to separate his legit steakhouse from the affairs of the Devil’s Doughboys cost him his life. Several months later, after trying to drown her sorrows in alcohol and various pills my mother suffered a heart attack and left me an orphan in this strange underworld that I didn't really understand.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “That sounds horrible.”

“No, not really,” I replied. “I'm actually really proud that my old man never stopped pushing back against the bastards that tried to take advantage of him.”

We rode in silence for a while. I wasn’t sure what I wanted or needed to say. But it felt really good that she was asking questions about my past. She seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. It had been such a long time since I'd had a meaningful conversation with a woman.

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