Satin Empire: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance by B. B. Hamel

Author:B. B. Hamel [Hamel, B. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-09T18:30:00+00:00

I find Renzo in his office a few hours later. Alana insists on coming with me, which is both adorable and distracting, but she hurries off to find Maddie and the other girls the second we’re inside. I try not to smile, except I love that she’s starting to fit in with my family already. I can’t pretend like I wasn’t worried about that, especially given our rocky start, and how she definitely didn’t want to be a Rossi wife. But maybe being mine isn’t so bad after all.

Renzo’s on the phone so I sit and wait, trying not to show how anxious I feel, but doing a shit job—my knee jostles and my hands stay firmly clasped in my lap. He definitely notices, and keeps giving me hard looks like I’d better stop being so damn annoying, but I can’t help myself.

I’ve asked him for favors. That’s sort of what the job entails—he provides for the organization and in return we do whatever tasks need doing, usually blowing out Russian brains and shit like that. But I’ve never come to his office to tell him that I’m doing something, and that I’m not asking permission. I doubt anyone ever has.

Renzo’s a fair Don, all things considered, at least much more evenhanded than my father was, and I’d rather work for my brother than for any of the other heads of families. Orsino Milano’s a prick and Rocco Rinaldo is a self-involved moron, and both of them make Renzo look like a goddamn selfless genius by comparison. My brother’s got his faults, but he does his best to treat everyone in the organization with care and dignity, even the lowest, most unimportant soldiers.

He’s also my brother. It’s hard to understate what that means in our family. Our father was a vicious fucking prick and he treated the four of us like absolute garbage growing up, constantly trying to make us feud with each other, always pushing us to be better and faster, and it was never good enough. Instead of making us hate each other, my father’s constant meddling and shit-stirring only pushed the four of us closer together. I love my brothers, even if they can be a bunch of annoying pricks sometimes, and I’d give my life for any one of them in a heartbeat, and I know they’d do the same for me.

Only taking a bullet isn’t the same as opening a business. Sometimes, getting shot is easier than taking a chance.

“You look like you’re about to have a fucking meltdown,” Renzo says when he’s finally off the phone. “What’s going on? That new wife giving you trouble or something?”

“Alana’s fine,” I say although he’s kind of not wrong. If she had just kept her mouth shut, none of this would be happening—and I should be grateful that she didn’t. “I want to talk business.”

“You hear something about Jasha Aslanov’s whereabouts?” Renzo perks up, and of course he thinks it’s about the war. What else could Carlo have to say?

“Nah, bro, it’s not that.

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