Grieved Loss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 3) Read online

  Owing Matteo everything meant I couldn’t do that. Not yet.

  Chad chuckled nervously as he turned his attention back to Matteo. “I don’t think your man likes me.”

  I stood too much to gain from his death to entertain anything else.

  “He doesn’t like pigs who take their wives and sons for granted,” Matteo returned. “So here is how it will go.” Chad swallowed, nodding before Matteo even spoke. “You are now my bitch. If I tell you to do something, you do it. End of story. When you are not working for me, you’ll be a dutiful husband to your wife. You’ll treat her well, give her anything her little heart desires. But understand that my executioner will watch you and wait for you to fuck up either of these directives.”

  “What does my wife have to do with anything?” Chad sputtered, staring at Matteo with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

  I jumped off the Lincoln, stepping into Chad’s face so he had no choice but to look at me as I spoke. “The only reason you still have a wife is because you may be useful to Matteo. Stop being useful, and you will find that you no longer have a wife and son. Because they’ll be mine.”

  “I-what?” he asked, glancing at Matteo to see if he would agree with my demand. I knew that it wasn’t normal to just claim a married woman.

  I’d make her a divorcee or widow first if I could do it without hurting her.

  I never wanted to hurt her.

  “Just keep that in mind and know that I’ll be watching everything you do. Don’t fuck up, Latour,” I extended a hand, patting his cheek just harshly enough that he winced. “I’ll see you around.”

  Then I turned back for my car, listening to every word they spoke as I went. “I suggest you prove very, very useful. Persuading Ryker to wait won’t be easy,” Matteo said.

  “I got it,” Chad seethed, and I felt his eyes boring into my back as I walked. “This is fucking ridiculous. She’s my goddamn wife.”

  “So treat her like it,” Simon grunted. “Otherwise he will.”

  Damn fucking right I would, and I’d have the entire force of the Bellandis at my back when the time came. It was only a matter of time before Chad fucked up. They always did, and when he did, I’d be waiting.

  Until then, I’d get to know my Sunshine.

  Two

  Calla

  Three years ago

  I needed to get home.

  I rushed out of the corner store, waving at the man who held the door for me as I passed. My son at home alone with his father, who was also my husband, shouldn’t have felt so urgent.

  I wished I could enjoy my time alone, browse through the grocery store and maybe buy things that weren’t on my list for once. I shouldn’t have needed to get back to them and should have been able to trust my husband with our child.

  Instead, my son needed me. It took fifteen minutes for Chad to get frustrated with Axel and call me. It surprised me he lasted that long with the look Axel gave me when I left.

  He loved Axel, but with his work hours being so demanding, sometimes it felt like my guys didn’t even know one another anymore.

  In such a rush, I never noticed the figure waiting for me in the mouth of the alley that led to the parking lot at the back of the building. I never noticed the one trailing behind me either, clinging to the shadows like he lived in them.

  I never did.

  The moment I turned into the alley, a hand reached out from the side to grab hold of my purse and yanked it away from my body. “Hey!” I shouted, pulling back in a dramatic tug of war. Lifting the bag of groceries, I swung it for his face, the bag colliding in a resounding whack. I watched the faint hints of a face twist into a scowl as he recovered from the blow.

  His fist shot through the air, aimed directly for the side of my face. I knew the moment I dropped my groceries and lifted my hand to protect myself that it would be too late. My eyes squeezed shut of their own accord, desperate to protect them in whatever way I could.

  I waited for the pain to explode in my cheek, and yet the punch never came.

  A grunt of pain came from in front of my clenched eyelids and made me thrust them open just in time to watch a second figure haul the thief off his feet by the throat. The savage growl my savior emitted had me stumbling back a step, staring at them in both awe and horror. Two faceless men, speaking in rough whispers that I couldn’t make out. Not with the ringing of my pulse in my ears.

  I ducked down, gathering up the purse I must have dropped in the altercation. I needed to be ready in case I had to make a run for it. I should already have run, but something about the sight of the unknown man gripping my attacker in such a way appealed to the darkest part of me. The same part of me that wanted justice for the attempted robbery and injury I hadn’t even suffered.

  Something about my savior felt familiar.

  “You have a two-minute head start,” he grunted, his voice deep as he lowered the other man to the pavement. When he finally released the mugger, the smaller man darted off through the alley to escape, tripping over his own feet in his urgency to get away.

  I didn’t want to know what happened at the end of his two minutes.

  With wide eyes and shaking hands, I bent down and collected the items that had fallen free from my grocery bag.

  As I shoved the last item back in, a hand stretched out from the shadows, holding the can that had rolled his way for me to take. With a nervous swallow, I stepped forward and accepted it. Our fingers brushed against each other. It was only the subtlest touch of my skin against his, but an electric current pulsed up through my arm so harshly that the can slipped through my fingers.

  He moved like lightning, snatching it out of the air before it could crash to the pavement. But my eyes never left him, never left the shining blue orbs that seemed to glow even in the absence of light. The eyes of a wolf, of a predator who barely resisted the urge to devour his prey. The rest of his face remained cloaked in the shadows, a mystery despite my growing urge to see him.

  Once he dropped the can in my bag for me, he retreated further into the shadows and drew the hood closer to his face. “Wait!” I called. “What’s your name? I just want to thank you!”

  There was no answer, though his feet paused so he could turn his head back to glance at me. He shook it side to side in a no, and I furrowed my brow with rising curiosity.

  What harm could there be in a name?

  “Well, my Shadow.” I smiled, feeling ridiculous even as I said the words. “Thank you for saving me.” He stilled for a few seconds and then nodded, turning back and continuing on his way through the alley.

  I followed, determined to see where he went. There was no harm in seeing where he went, not when my car was in the same direction.

  But the end of the alley was empty when I reached it. There was no trace of him, though it seemed impossible that he could have disappeared so quickly.

  Just gone.

  Nothing but the faint scent of metal left in his wake.

  Three

  Calla

  One year ago

  Dead.

  My husband was dead.

  Everybody died. Everybody left. Nothing was constant.

  Why had I thought Chad would be any different?

  The man across the table stared back at me, pity and sympathy shining in his eyes.

  I hated it. I hated that I'd gone from having everything I could ever dream of, to being the woman people pitied.

  Leaving Axel and Ines with my dad even for an afternoon felt brutal. The way they’d clung to me so desperately, afraid that I wouldn't come home. A five-year-old and one-year-old had no business knowing what that kind of pain felt like. They were too young to understand. Too young to know someone had gunned their father down in the street.

  Sitting in a fancy lawyer’s office where I didn’t belong, waiting to receive more grievous news, it felt like the man across from me would pull the rug out from under us at any moment. It had been devastating to discover that the benefits that should have taken
care of us after Chad’s death would never come, that his supervisor claimed he couldn’t disburse them since he didn’t know why Chad had been in that part of town when he was meant to be on the other side of town.

  It only left me with more questions.

  "Mrs. Latour, your late husband arranged for a considerable trust for you and the children, should the day come when he could no longer provide for you all. Your benefactor will use it to make payments into your account monthly, and it will be enough for the three of you to live the way you've become accustomed to for at least one year."

  "I-I don't understand," I mumbled, wiping my nose with the tissue in my hand. It felt like I never stopped crying, and the knowledge that Chad had gone even more out of his way to see us taken care of after his death sent me over the edge. "Where did he get that kind of money?" He’d never mentioned setting up a trust fund or anything of the sort.

  "I'm not at liberty to discuss it, Mrs. Latour." The man smiled at me, his eyes kind even in the face of my confusion. "But in the meantime, I hope it helps to ease the financial burden you're confronted with after his death. You can continue to stay home with your children during this time of transition, content knowing you'll have money to pay your mortgage and put food on the table. Your benefactor is aware of all your bills and expenses, and he'll send you money accordingly."

  "My benefactor. Did he know Chad?" I asked, wringing my hands together.

  "Yes. He knew your late husband very well and promised he would see you and your children taken care of should something happen to him."

  I nodded, but my eyes darted up into the camera at the corner of the ceiling briefly. The familiar feeling of warmth slid down my spine, the same way it had for years. I’d felt eyes on me so often it had become my new normal. At first, I’d looked over my shoulder constantly, spent nearly a year living in paranoia, but after my shadow saved me in a dark alley, I couldn’t seem to muster up fear of that feeling.

  A figment of my imagination looked out for me.

  Even with my legging-clad ass perched on the edge of the nicest leather chair I’d ever seen and sitting in front of a stunning mahogany desk, I knew something about this situation was unusual. But the signature on the paperwork in front of me was my husband's. An exact copy of his scrawl I'd spent too much time telling him he needed to make legible.

  "If he knew Chad so well, why didn't he meet with me himself? I don't understand why he wouldn't want to see me. I'd like to thank him," I said, holding my head high as I stared at the man in front of me.

  He smiled, and something about him seemed so familiar. Like I'd seen him before in passing, but I couldn't place him. His brown eyes were warm on mine, his salt and pepper hair short and well-styled. He wore a fitted suit over his lean frame, the refinery of the fit and style showing just how expensive it was.

  "He would like to remain anonymous for the time being, but I can promise you he only has your best interest at heart. There will come a time when it is more appropriate that the two of you meet, but for now the important thing is for you to take the time you need to heal. To grieve your loss, Mrs. Latour. I wish you the best of luck in what will undoubtedly be a hard road."

  “Why isn’t it appropriate that we meet now? I don’t understand.” My voice dropped a level, moving from the place where I’d been willing to be patient to where I wanted to demand answers as my paranoia grew.

  His hands barely touched the surface of the desk as he pushed to his feet and stepped around the massive thing until I had no choice but to stand as well for fear of looking rude. “I’m not at liberty to discuss it at this time,” he returned, moving toward the door of the wallpapered office.

  “Should I be expecting someone to check on us? To monitor our spending?” I asked, refusing to step away from the desk. I might have stood, but I wouldn’t let him dismiss me so casually after he turned my world upside down.

  “We’ll be in touch,” he said vaguely and his hand wrapped around the doorknob.

  With a sigh of frustration, I moved toward him and took his hand for a shake. “Perhaps I’ll be in touch instead,” I said, hinting I wouldn’t just lie down and accept his non-answers. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Lombardi," I said, swallowing down the threat of tears. He'd shown me kindness when he didn't need to, understanding how uncertain I must feel in the circumstances.

  "Please call me Don. The pleasure was all mine, Mrs. Latour. I hope the next time we meet is under more fortunate circumstances."

  I nodded. I didn't understand what had happened to my picture-perfect life. I didn’t understand why this had happened to my family.

  I turned my head and looked into the camera again before I left the office, unable to stop the way my skin tingled in that too familiar way. I could practically feel the person sitting on the other side of the screen.

  Watching. Waiting.

  Always.

  Four

  Calla

  Almost one year later

  I plastered a smile on my face, smiling brightly to keep the kids from noticing the horror I'd realized as soon as I opened my eyes in my eternally empty bed.

  One year.

  It had been one year since Chad died, since I lost my husband and my partner. Since my kids lost their father.

  I went through the morning routine with a smile on my face, loving the sunshine as it streamed in through the windows of the kitchen. I scrambled eggs. I danced around in my yoga gear.

  My sleepy kids groaned at my enthusiasm like they normally did. Axel held his head in his hands at the kitchen counter like he just couldn't handle the fact that morning dared to come. Even Ines dragged in the mornings, and I missed the days when I'd been able to let her sleep just a little longer before I had to carry her to the car to drop Axel off at school.

  "Cheesy eggs?" Ines peeped in her tiny voice that melted my heart and the heart of anyone who heard it. A princess through and through, she already wore her rainbow unicorn dress, even if she was half asleep.

  "Of course, baby," I smiled back. "Axe, can you grab me the cheese, sweetheart?"

  "Okay, Mommy," he murmured, stumbling down from his seat and making for the fridge as I buttered their toast. My heart clenched. I knew the day when my boy stopped calling me mommy approached rapidly. He was already six, already such a tall boy, just like his father.

  It hurt that every time I looked at the kids, I saw bits of Chad in them. Like the most bittersweet memory, like I always carried a piece of him with me. Axel had his chocolate hair and square face. Ines had his full lips and green eyes.

  Even though I could pick out the traits they inherited from him, there was no doubt they were my kids. Their mannerisms, Ines’s hair and Axel's eyes, they were all me. It depressed me to think that in such a brief time, it seemed like the traces of their father in their personalities had disappeared.

  Chad hadn't been overly enthusiastic. He was affectionate at the start of our marriage, but that dissipated more and more with every year that passed. Even after all our years together, I couldn't pick out a single thing the kids did that reminded me of him. He was so calm and controlled, there wasn't much to mimic. That only mattered when he’d been home, which grew increasingly less and less often. The rising demands of a career that meant everything to him caused him to spend more time away from home than with his family.

  My aunt had asked me once how I could miss a man who was never around when he was alive, but at least then I’d been able to convince myself I wasn’t alone.

  That what we did for our family, though our roles were separate, was all to work towards the same goal: a happy, safe life for our kids.

  I shrugged off the melancholy thoughts and scooped eggs onto their plates, giving them each a piece of toast as I turned to wash the pan. They ate in silence as they woke up.

  "Can I stay home today?" Axel asked, and the pan clanged into the sink as I dropped it. Turning back to him, I furrowed my brow in confusion.

  "Are you not feeling well?"


  "Mommy, I know what day it is," he said, and his little voice went so melancholy that my heart cracked in my chest.

  I sighed, abandoning the pan in favor of making my way to my kids. Axel had already finished eating, because nothing could stop that boy from shoveling it into his mouth

  Not even the anniversary of his father's death.

  I walked around the kitchen island, needing to be within hugging distance for this conversation. "I think it's probably a good idea for you to go to school today." I knelt on the floor at his feet, taking his hands in mine and smiling through the tears burning my eyes. "You don't want to just sit at home and think about it, do you?"

  "Could we go to the cemetery?" he asked, turning those deep blue eyes so like mine up to beg me.

  "I tell you what," I murmured, reaching out to stroke my hand over the top of his head and brush his hair back from his face. He was due for a haircut, something I always did for him and Chad at the same time. Without Chad, it became a melancholy reminder that we both dreaded. "I have to go to the studio this morning and teach a class, but how about Ines and I pick you up after lunch? We'll go see your Dad and then get ice cream."

  "Okay, mommy," he whispered, and I touched my forehead to his, sniffling back the tears one more time.

  "That's my brave boy," I said, and I pulled back to stand. "Get your backpack ready for school, okay, Cookie?"

  He nodded, darting into the living room to grab his stuff. I knew he needed the minute of privacy, knew that he felt like he needed to be stronger than ever without Chad. Axel became the man of the house at five, and he did the best he could to be older than he was. When I stepped around the corner of the island, Ines caught my eye. She furrowed her tiny brows in confusion and reached up a buttery hand to run her fingers through her hair. She was too young and could barely communicate with words, but she also made no secret of her not remembering her father well. There were moments when she saw Axel missing him, and I could see her trying to grasp what she didn’t have.