Forgivable Sins: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 2) Read online

  "I'm sure I'll manage somehow, Miss Mahoney."

  "Peachy." I turned on my heel, striding to my desk to grab my purse and head down to meet Lino for our biweekly lunch. I'd just locked my file drawer with all my confidential information when the elevator doors opened. Even if I hadn't known that Jasper had no appointments until later in the day, I'd have known who strutted out those doors anywhere.

  I didn't even have to look at him to feel the air change with his presence and hear the confidence in the gait of his step. His dress shoes tapped against the floor as he made his way to me. Glancing over, my eyes traced those shoes up and over his body encased in grey and up to the devastatingly angular face that made women chase after him everywhere we went. His full lips tilted into a stunning smile when our eyes met, the deep brown of his almond eyes shining as his strong brow softened.

  The bastard had worn my favorite grey three-piece suit, fitted to perfection over his lean but muscular form. Since I'd started the process for my divorce all those months ago, it felt like Lino and I were playing with fire, like something shifted in our friendship.

  But we both knew it couldn't. I wouldn't let it happen.

  I was done with men. Done with the hurt they caused. Not to mention my brother would revolt if he knew I got involved with Lino. He and Yavin partied together, worked together. Lino might have been my best friend, but Yavin filled a role that I never could. There was no chance that my protective best friend would take me into the underbelly of the world where they lived, and that meant I stayed on the sidelines. Never really a part of his world, and never really out of it either. "Will you ever listen when I tell you to wait in the lobby?" I asked, smiling at him with a shake of my head as he leaned in to kiss my cheek.

  Normal. Expected.

  So why did it feel like his lips lingered, like he breathed me into his very soul?

  And why did my heart flutter like when we were children?

  "When will you learn that I do what I want, Little Dove?" He brushed my copper hair over my shoulder, reaching down to take my right hand in his. His thumb stroked the birthmark on my palm, something he'd done since we'd been children. It seemed mostly involuntary at this stage in our lives, something he did completely out of habit. I rolled my eyes at him but let him keep it in his as he led me to the elevators. Not for the first time, I wondered how things would have turned out if Lino had kept the promise he made all those years ago. The one that made me write Mrs. Samara Bellandi in my journal for years after.

  But when high school came, he dated.

  He dated everyone but me. I couldn't blame him, not with the way girls threw themselves at both Matteo and Lino. I wondered if maybe he was waiting for me to turn sixteen, but sixteen came and went. Then high school came and went.

  Then college.

  Eventually, I'd just accepted that Angelino Bellandi would never marry me, and I'd given myself to the first man to treat me like I mattered.

  The elevator doors closed us in, and the air suddenly felt stifling. I still felt that pull, that irrational draw to Lino. While I'd convinced my heart that being his friend, having him so thoroughly immersed in my life was enough, my body was another story. His thumb still traced my palm, still stroked my skin so delicately, like he thought I might break from the slightest pressure.

  He'd never know that I'd survived much worse pain. He could never know. I wouldn't be responsible for what happened to him if he did something there was no turning back from. I knew without a doubt, if he found out about the times Connor had hurt me, I'd lose Lino forever. Lose him to the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface.

  I wouldn't be the cause of that, not when it had been my stupidity and stubbornness that led me to that place.

  "Where did you go just now?" Lino asked, jolting me out of my thoughts. I turned my head up to look at him, feeling his gaze examining every piece of my face. As if he could see my injuries. See the internal scars I wore that I never allowed him to see. He frowned at me, and I knew his head ran through all the possibilities of what he might need to do to protect me from whatever made me lost in thought.

  "Nowhere of significance," I shrugged. "Work this morning was complicated. I had to investigate a rumor, dispose of the evidence to prevent damage to the company's reputation. I'm just distracted is all."

  His brow tensed, tarnishing that sexy businessman persona just enough for the devil to show in his face. "You could come work for me."

  "I like my job. I rock at my job. I love my job."

  "But it's stressful. I could give you a more low-key position." The elevator doors opened on the bottom floor, and we hurried through the lobby to make it to where I knew Lino's driver and his bodyguard would wait on the curb. I nodded to both men, getting friendly smiles in return.

  "Miss Mahoney," Georgio, the bodyguard, murmured respectfully and climbed into the front seat after giving a silent nod to Lino. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous display as Lino pulled the door wide for me to climb in, the unspoken agreement that I couldn’t open my own damn door and Lino’s insistence on being the one to do it. I settled into the back seat and buckled in, turning my attention to Lino as soon as the doors closed behind him.

  "I need to stand on my own two feet, Lino, and you have to let me," I whispered.

  A contented sigh escaped when he reached down and grabbed my legs to pivot me in my seat. He slid the zipper down on my boot, stripping it off to press his thumbs into the arch. We would quickly come to the season where it needed to stop, where I wore pumps to work and wouldn't have socks to protect the secret of my scarred feet.

  Since Lino had spent years massaging my feet, my shoulders, taking care of me in every sense of the word, he would know without a doubt that the scars hadn't always been there. "You would be. It's not like you're not a hard-worker."

  "No, Lino," I said firmly, tugging my feet back and sliding the one back into my boot. He stared at my legs, his hands hanging in mid-air like he couldn't quite believe I'd stopped him mid-massage. Truthfully, neither could I.

  "Okay, what's going on with you?" he demanded, and I knew if there hadn't been seatbelts involved, he'd have been in my face. "You're distancing yourself from me. I want to know why."

  "Don't be ridiculous. I am not distancing myself from you. You're my best friend." I wished I could tell him the truth, wished that I could explain the guilt I felt for keeping secrets from him. The playful moments between us faded more and more every day, and I missed the bond I had with my best friend like a lost limb.

  We rode the rest of the drive-in silence with Lino's frustrated energy vibrating next to me. Even the two men in the front seat looked uncomfortable as they glanced back at us warily. Finally pulling up to Angel's felt like a relief, where I normally treasured any time, I could spend with him.

  I got out of the car quickly, ignoring the way Lino looked ready to kill me. I knew damn well he liked to open my door for me, but I'd meant what I said about needing to stand on my own two feet. The divorce, the complete and total failure of my marriage, made me feel like a failure, and I needed to prove to myself that I wasn't the problem. That I wasn't too codependent on my best friend. That I wasn't to blame for the way Connor's anger had simmered and erupted in our final months together.

  Lino growled as he stepped up beside me, pressing a hand to my lower back to guide me inside. The hostess knew him well since he took me to Angel's at least once a month. I tried not to think about the other women he'd probably taken there too, tried to tell myself it didn't matter.

  Placing my napkin in my lap, I tried not to flinch when he barked at me. "Is it the divorce?"

  "Why would you think that?"

  "Would you stop answering all my questions with a question and give me a goddamn answer, Samara? Is he still giving you trouble?" The waiter who filled our water glasses seemed to be comfortable with our conflict, turning a blind eye to it until Lino glared at him and he got the message to disappear.

  "He doesn't want the
divorce. I knew this would be a struggle. He has all the resources, and I'm just me," I sighed. I knew what would come next.

  “I'll handle it. This has been going on for far too long, and it’s time to just be done with it. You need to be free of him finally and start looking toward your future.”

  "No. I don't want you to get involved," I argued.

  "Little Dove—"

  "Do not Little Dove me."

  His features softened, which was always the unintended consequence when I stood up to him. "You never told me what made you file for the divorce."

  I pursed my lips, nibbling on one corner and deciding on what I might tell him to justify the seemingly abrupt decision. "He started gambling, was gone most nights. I just don't want to live my life like that, wondering where he is. If the money is really going to gambling or if it's going to hookers or blow. And then wondering if it even matters. That's not the life for me."

  “Christ, Samara. You should have told me.” His face twisted into a pained expression, and I reached out a hand to grasp his in mine. I gave him a small smile to reassure him. “You should have told Yavin.” The mention of my brother was sobering, because I knew exactly what it would cost the two most important men in my life if they knew the truth.

  The real truth.

  And it terrified me.

  "What could you have done? My marriage failed. Even if I sent you to stalk him and find out what he was up to, the moment I needed to send you to spy on him would have been the end. I won't be with someone I can't trust, financially, emotionally, and sexually." His hand spasmed, and I fought back my laugh. "Now can we please for the love of God just enjoy our lunch? Please?"

  "Anything for you, Little Dove," he whispered, and my heart clenched in my chest at the words I wished were true. I fought back the resentment I felt.

  He'd do anything for me.

  Except give me him.

  Two

  Lino

  My employees skirted away from me as I made my way across the empty club floor. Normally, I might have cared to present a better, friendlier, persona.

  But in that moment, I did not give the first fuck.

  "What's wrong, Lino?" one of the new bartenders asked, stepping up next to me and hurrying to keep my pace in her sky-high heels. She was still training, and I cast a glance over her shoulder briefly to find the manager who should have occupied her time.

  My feet froze in place as I spun to glare down at her. "What did I tell you about calling me that? I’m your boss. You are to address me as Mr. Bellandi."

  She looked up at me through her eyelashes, not seeming to realize she hadn't earned the right to the familiarity she seemed to think we had. I wasn't dumb enough to think she hadn't heard the rumors I was in the habit of screwing my employees. It didn't change the fact that the rumors were bullshit, especially since I'd spent the last ten months not screwing anybody. “You seem tense. I could help you with that.” The sultry smile on her barely legal face did nothing but annoy me.

  "Proposition me again, and you're fired. I am not just a walking dick for you to use to get off. Get yourself a vibrator and call it a day." I stormed off to the sound of her gasp behind me, not paying any attention to the huff of laughter that echoed from the sidelines where my more intelligent employees deftly avoided my simmering rage.

  No one else dared to stand in my way as I climbed the steps up to the offices. As soon as my feet hit the second floor, my eyes darted over to meet Enzo's hazel ones. The powerhouse of a man leaned against the door of his office with his arms crossed over his chest, grinning at me like some kind of evil shithead who enjoyed my suffering far too much for comfort.

  "How's Samara?" he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief that only brightened in the face of my glare.

  "Shut the fuck up."

  "That good, huh? She divorced yet? I think your dick might fall off from lack of use if she doesn't hurry it along." My feet stayed planted to the floor just in front of the top step.

  "Can we maybe not talk about my dick?"

  "Aw, she's giving you delicate sensibilities. That's cute."

  "Enzo," I warned.

  "Seriously, though. How's she doing?"

  "Your interest in my woman does not give me the warm fuzzies." I took a few steps down the hall, making for my office. He followed even as I sighed in annoyance. The man was relentless.

  "You're a menace. You need to get laid for all our sakes." I shrugged, because even I couldn't argue with that. Only Samara could reduce me to a celibate puppy, but she was worth every bit of the wait. I wouldn't touch her until she was free and clear of that piece of shit ex of hers.

  Speaking of. “Get me a meeting with Campbell.”

  “The investigator? Why?”

  “She's hiding something. I want to know what.” I didn't wait for a response, storming the rest of the way down the hall and closing myself in my office with a slam of the door that let everyone know I was not to be disturbed. I barely resisted the urge to shove all the stuff off my desk in my fit of rage.

  Samara had been keeping secrets from me for months, maybe even longer. As long as I'd known her, she'd been an open book with me. For her to be cryptic for months and then reveal some bullshit story about his gambling being the cause for a sudden divorce meant something serious had happened.

  And if I found out he'd laid a hand on her, there'd be nothing left for Ryker to chop up and burn by the time I was done with him.

  The knock on the door came only a minute later. "Campbell will be here tomorrow at 2," Enzo said, not daring to open the door. I didn't bother to answer.

  Not while I still vibrated with the fury that Samara would keep something important from me. As soon as she was mine, fully and completely, we'd be having a very serious conversation.

  And it couldn't come soon enough.

  Three

  Samara

  It felt like everyone's eyes fell on me as we waited in the elevator. That was always the consequence of Lino coming around.

  He intimidated everyone around him in ways that most men could never dream of doing. Even though he was lighter, less severe than his cousin Matteo, he just commanded the surrounding air.

  Us mere mortals never stood a chance of not being drawn into that orbit. The intoxicating combination of danger and sex-appeal was irresistible to anyone who laid eyes on him, but when you combined those things with the unique affection he showed me? I'd never stood a chance. I'd fallen in love with him when I was too young to even understand what romantic love was, and while I'd long since let go of those feelings and accepted that we would be nothing more than friends, it didn't stop the people at work from looking at me as though I was on the verge of metamorphosis.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Mahoney," one investor murmured with a bowed head as the elevator let him off on the floor below Jasper’s office.

  "Good afternoon," I mumbled in return, suddenly eager to make it to the relative peace and privacy that my desk offered. Having everyone stare at me because of something work-related was one thing, but I'd never been comfortable with the attention my friendship with Lino brought.

  Users.

  Abusers.

  Jealous women.

  Nothing good could come from any of them, and I demanded my own respect. Not the respect I gained because of my association with someone else.

  I let out a sigh of relief when the empty elevator deposited me on the top floor, but it was short-lived. "Samara?" Jasper called from his office where he’d propped the door open. I moved in to stand in his open door, my eyes darting out the window at his back to the sprawling view of Chicago. Lamb & Rowe occupied the top floor of the building, one of the taller ones in the city. Jasper turned, following my gaze to stare at the building a few blocks away. The refurbished warehouse that held Indulgence, where Lino ran the Bellandi business from behind his desk in the upper office, was striking in the urban backdrop otherwise filled with steel and glass. Even lower than the skyscraper Jasper occupied, i
t was just as impressive.

  With a sigh, he turned back around to face me. "I don't want to tell you how to live your life."

  "Then don't," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he groaned. "Angelino Bellandi is not the man you need, Samara. Don't tell me you're getting involved with him."

  "We're just friends."

  "I don't like it. After Connor, the last thing you need is someone with a reputation like that—"

  "Lino would burn this city to the ground before he let anything hurt me, Jasper." The words tumbled from me in a rush, true even if I had no desire to voice them.

  "Then why is Connor still alive and giving you trouble? Why isn't he dead and buried where he belongs?" The vehemence in Jasper's voice still caught me off-guard every time, but there was no doubt about the cause.

  After the assault, I'd mostly hidden out at my house until my feet could heal and the other injuries could disappear. Given I'd never missed two days of work in a row since I'd started at Lamb & Rowe, Jasper hadn't bought the excuse that I was sick and checked on me. He'd promised to hunt Connor down himself, and the only way I'd been able to dissuade him was by promising that Lino and Yavin had that covered.

  I couldn't look at him, not as realization dawned on his features. The way my black boots contrasted the marble floors suddenly seemed fascinating. "You lied to me," he hissed in disbelief. When my eyes finally met his, it was to find his hands clutching the arms of his desk chair so tightly it might snap. "He has no fucking idea, does he? No clue what that piece of shit did to you?"

  I shook my head silently, watching as his jaw clenched.

  "Your brother? Does Yavin know?"

  "No," I whispered.

  "Did you think keeping the truth from them would stop them from raining Hell down on this city when they find out? No matter what you tell me, that man—" He spun in his chair, thrusting an arm out to point at Indulgence through the window—"is obsessed with you. You are fucking blind if you don't see that."