Falling for the Killer: A Dark Possessive Mafia Romance by B.B Hamel (books to read for beginners .txt) 📗

was doing it for the baby, too. I had to keep reminding myself that there was more involved than only the two of us. There was our child to think about.

“I’ve been a prideful man, Don Valentino,” Gian said softly, looking at the floor. “I don’t like admitting mistakes. I don’t like walking away from a fight.”

“I’ve noticed,” the Don said. “It makes you a fearsome man.”

“I have more to worry about now than just myself and my soldiers,” Gian said. “I have Ash and our baby.”

The Don nodded slowly. “You think you can make a deal with Colm?”

“I think I can try,” Gian said. “But I’ll warn you, I might make concessions.”

The Don sighed and spread his hands out before him before looking up. He seemed ancient, his skin like papyrus, his eyes rheumy and glazed over with film.

“There are those within the family that will be angry,” the Don said. “There are those that do not wish to see the Healy family get a thing. They fear it would make us look weak.”

“I won’t cut a deal that will do injustice to the family,” Gian said fiercely.

“I believe you,” the Don said. “Which is why I’m granting your request. I’ll arrange for a meeting, and what you do with it will be entirely up to you.”

Gian nodded once, sharply, and glanced at me again. I wanted to tell him not to do it, but I knew he wouldn’t listen.

Headstrong and stubborn. And a gorgeous bastard on top of it all.

“Thank you, Don,” Gian said.

“Do not let me down.” The Don picked up his drink and leaned back in his chair again, waving a hand in dismissal.

Gian turned and left. I followed him, and caught a strange look from the Don before I slipped out the door: his eyes were searching and curious, like he wanted to see what was beneath my skin to understand why I inspired such devotion.

It was obvious, at least to me. Gian loved the baby, even if it hadn’t been born yet.

“That went well,” he said once we were outside and next to the truck.

“I’m afraid the Healys are going to try something,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want you to do this.”

He took my hand. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “The Healys aren’t so stupid to break a truce just to kill a single Capo. If Colm did that then the Don would rain down the full weight of the Valentino family, the Healys wouldn’t last a week.”

I squeezed his hand then got into the truck and let him drive me back to the city, and hoped that he was right.

20

Gian

Rain pattered the sidewalk as I ambled toward an empty park at ten past midnight. Ash hurried to keep up with me, her hood pulled up to cover her hair. I had nothing on me, no gun, no knife, not even an umbrella. I couldn’t risk Colm mistaking it for a weapon.

Which meant we got fucking soaked, of course. “We couldn’t have picked a dryer spot?” Ash asked me, pressing close to my shoulder.

“Wasn’t my choice,” I said. “It’s what Colm wanted. Somewhere neutral.”

She nodded a little and I saw the uncertainty in her eyes.

I couldn’t blame her. She didn’t want to do this. I was worried, but not for the same reasons. I knew Colm wouldn’t try to hurt us, not tonight, not when he agreed on a truce for this meeting. He wasn’t so stupid as to break his word and make it known throughout the city that Colm was a liar and a murderer.

No, I was worried because I didn’t know what Colm would ask of me, and if he’d grant me what I wanted. If this negotiation didn’t go well, we’d have to double down on the war effort, and more of my guys would end up like Brett.

I didn’t want any more hospital visits, not until Ash gave birth to our baby.

The park was on the outskirts of the far northeast, the uppermost edge of Philadelphia. It was a quiet residential place, some row homes, some single-family units. The park had a baseball diamond, playground equipment, and toward at the convergence point of all the paved walkways was a large gazebo.

A solitary man sat on a bench smoking a cigar. The smell was pungent and sharp, contrasting with the smell of freshly cut grass and rain-soaked dirt.

Ash stuck close to me as we approached. I couldn’t see any of Colm’s men, but I knew they were around. He’d respect the truce, but he wouldn’t be so stupid as to come alone.

I left my men behind. I didn’t want to risk any of them making a mistake. Stefano fought me on that point and insisted on coming, but I refused to tell him the meeting location and left before he could do anything about it. He was a loyal guy and smart, but I couldn’t risk this, not for anything.

I approached the Gazebo with Ash on my arm. Colm wore khaki slacks, a simple hunter green sweater, and a gray baseball cap pulled down low. He sucked on a dark cigar, so dark it was almost black, the cherry end casting long shadow across his face. He had a long nose and a square jaw, and was a tall man, fit and athletic. He tilted his chin up and squinted at me, and I caught sight of green eyes beneath the brim of his unadorned gray ballcap.

“You showed up,” Colm said.

“You did too.” I stepped beneath the gazebo’s roof. Ash hesitated, but decided she’d rather get out of the rain than keep her distance.

“Sit,” Colm said. “Cigar?”

“No, thank you.” I sat on the bench across from him.

He looked at Ash, head tilted to the side. “So it’s true then,” he said and laughed. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t totally believe it. Daughter of the Adamson family, slumming it with some Valentino Capo, no offense, Gian.”

“None taken,” I said and took Ash’s hand, drawing her down