Brutal Power: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance (Bianco Crime Family)

It’s an early Sunday morning when Brody hustles me out of bed. “We have somewhere to be,” he grunts, turning on the shower and practically forcing me inside.

“What is with this urgency?” I laugh as he gets in with me and starts to soap me up. “Seriously, Brody, would you calm down?”

“It’s a surprise.” Based on the look in his eye, it’s a good surprise, but I can’t help feeling a little anxious.

“What sort of surprise? Are we talking like fancy brunch surprise? Or there’s a hitman coming and we need to go on the run surprise?”

He considers. “I’d say in the middle leaning toward fancy brunch.”

“Oh my god. What could possibly be in the middle of that?”

“The surprise.” He kisses me. “Now, lather up, baby. I want to look my best.”

I sigh dramatically but I like showering with him, and eventually one accidental soapy slip of the hand against an already semi-erect penis leads to him bending me over against the wall and fucking me into a gooey, messy bliss. Which obviously negates his whole fake urgency thing.

“Don’t pretend like there’s no time for coffee,” I say about an hour later as I wait for the drip machine to brew. He’s standing near the island tapping his feet. “You weren’t all impatient when you were balls deep in me, dickhead.”

“That’s very unfair and you know it. I’m a man with a healthy sexual appetite and you used your very slick body parts to get me all riled up.”

“My slick body parts? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“You tempted me with your hand.”

“My hand?” I burst out laughing as I pour coffee into two travel mugs. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re the one who was rubbing up against me.”

“I was trying to wash you! Because you told me to!”

He glares and accepts the mug. “No, baby, you were trying to jack me off because you wanted to delay. I know your tricks.”

I crack up as he stomps out toward the car and quickly follow. It’s a beautiful morning and I’m feeling good from a little banter and a little fantastic sex. At this point, I don’t care where he’s taking me, because the anxious voice in the back of my head is quieted down for once, even though I know we’re hurtling toward a potential showdown that could leave my family crippled and my husband dead.

But I’m trying not to think about that. He gets me in his truck and starts the engine. “You’re seriously not going to give me any clue about where we’re headed?”

“We’re going that way.” He points south and pulls out. “That’s all you need to know.”

“I just feel like I should say that brunch with your mother, while always lovely, isn’t exactly what I had planned for this morning.” I tap a finger against my lip thoughtfully. “Although it may be exactly between a normal brunch and getting murdered.”

He rolls his eyes. “Please, we both know you like spending time with my mother. You’ve got a thing for interesting moms.”

“That’s… weirdly specific and kind of true.” I lean back, frowning out the window. “I’m not sure how I feel about that, honestly.”

“You’re learning a lot about yourself today. It’s kind of beautiful to watch.”

I laugh and let the streets tick past. We really are headed toward his old neighborhood, but soon he pulls down a residential street in a good little area with lots of old homes. The architecture here is mostly Victorian with lots of peaks and bay windows and such, and he parks in front of one of the biggest houses on the block.

It’s not in the best shape. The exterior needs some work and the landscaping is a mess. But I can see the beautiful bones: columns on either side of the door, three stories with a blue tile roof and a pale gray stone facade. The windows look original and gorgeous.

“Why are we parked here?” I ask him, frowning as he turns to face me.

“I need to talk to you.” He seems serious and that sets off some warning bells in the back of my head. “No, don’t make that face, it’s not a huge deal but it’s something we need to figure out.”

“How about you just spill it before I start throwing things?”

“Baby, we can’t live in the oasis forever.”

I let that sink in. He pauses as I turn from him and my hand grips my knee. I don’t speak, because that’s really not what I wanted to hear, even if I know he’s right.

Brody’s the head of his family. He can’t live on another family’s territory—it’s bad enough we’ve been there for the last few weeks, but there’s no way we could stay forever.

I knew this was coming. Only I hoped I could keep on pushing it back, maybe forever, because the thought of leaving the oasis is almost as bad as losing one of my limbs.

“I grew up there,” I say very quietly and he puts a hand on my thigh.

“I know, baby, and I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“Everything I know is there. Everyone I love is there. My best friends. My family.” I blink back tears and hate myself a little bit for my reaction. It’s completely selfish and I know it, but I can’t help how I feel. “I’m sorry. I know you’re right. It’s just⁠—”

He leans over and kisses my neck and hugs me against him. “It’s okay to feel like this. I understand what you’re going through. The oasis is a part of who you are, and you don’t want to give that up. But you know I can’t reasonably run my family while living on your family’s private block. It’s just not realistic.” He hugs me tighter. “But that doesn’t mean we have to move back to my neighborhood.”

My eyebrows raise and I wipe tears from my eyes. “What do you mean?”

He nods at the house and I follow his gaze. “We’re halfway between my mother’s place and the oasis. It’s a five-minute drive either way and totally walkable if you wanted. We’d have protection from either direction if we needed it, and my people would have easy access to me. And there’s no reason that you’d have to give up your house back on the oasis.”

I stare at the big, beautiful old Victorian. I can start to see where he’s going with this. I can imagine buying it, fixing it up, living in there with our own little family, while splitting our time between our worlds. “You’d really let me keep the other house?”

“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to stop you even if I wanted to.”

“You’re right, you couldn’t, but I’d at least pretend like I’d listen.”

He laughs softly and kisses me again. “Do you like it? This house, I mean.”

“I think it’s perfect.”

“The inside’s a mess. We’ll have to gut the whole thing.”

“I’m sure we can find someone to do the work.” I try not to smile. The Bianco Famiglia has deep ties to the construction industry—there will be at least half a dozen different reputable contractors all begging to get involved.

“Good. Then you won’t mind that I already bought it.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”

“I figured if you didn’t like it, I’d just quietly sell it and get you something else. But it looks like I made the right choice. Want to look around?”

I should be annoyed. I mean, he bought a house without my input. But he lucked out because the interior is just as lovely as I figured: original hardwood and lots of old details, most of it kept in decent shape. He’s right, it’ll have to be modernized, but I’m already furnishing the place in my head.

We stand together in the old living room in front of the ancient fireplace. It’s soot-stained and well-loved with a mosaic of old tiles across the mantel.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” I lean against him as he wraps his arms around me.

“I’m absolutely serious. And I really I’ll sell it and get something else if you don’t want this place.”

“Not the house.” I shake my head and look up at him. “You’re serious about us.”

His expression softens and he leans down to kiss my lips. “At first, I wasn’t sure how to feel. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life the first time I saw you, but I was so obsessed with keeping my emotions to myself and not getting too wrapped up in you. Then you wore me down.”

“Wore you down?” I laugh and hit his chest with my palm. “Please, more like you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

His lips quirk into a smile. “Well, that too.”

“And now you want to spend the rest of your life with me.” I waggle my eyebrows at him. “You want me to have your babies.”

“Yes, I do,” he says very seriously.

“You love me.” I hit him again. “Admit it.”

“You just like hearing me say it out loud.”

“Damn right.” I get on my toes and kiss him. “Say it again for me.”

“Always.” He kisses me deeper. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you really do.” I lean into that kiss, holding it for a while until we’re fumbling at each other for the second time this morning. I straddle him on the floor in front of the empty fireplace, the old floorboard creaking as I ride him to a shuddering, moaning orgasm, his cock buried between my legs and filling me up, and we finish lying on our sides, sweat-slick and happy.

I can close my eyes and pretend we’re normal newlyweds breaking in our new house for the first time. There’s no war, no danger, no mafia families to contend with, only a bright, lovely future unspooling ahead of us. Brody kisses me and I sink into his rhythmic breathing, but I know this little fantasy can’t last forever.

And I’ll shatter it.

“My brother wants to have a meeting tonight.” I sit up on an elbow. He runs his fingers through my hair, twirling a piece around his finger.

“About the plan?”

“He wants to be a part of it.”

Brody grunts. He doesn’t look happy, but I waited for a good time to mention it at least. “Alright, we can do that.”

“You were never going to pull this off alone. You have to know that.”

He sighs and lies on his back, his hands behind his head. I marvel at his muscular biceps. I get to be with these arms forever, for as long as we’re alive.

“I know, but I wanted to leave you all out of it for as long as I could. But no, this is good. We’ll work out the details together.”

“That’s my boy. You’re a team player now.” I pat his cheek and he catches my wrist with a grin. He pulls me against him and I laugh as he kisses me, rolls me over onto my back, and pins me to the floor.

“I’m a team player so long as I still get what I want.”

“And what’s that?”

“You, often and vigorously.”

I roll my eyes. “What a terrible line.”

“We both know you loved it.” He kisses my throat right over my pulse. “Your heart’s racing.”

“That’s from pure boredom.”

“Oh, yeah? Your heart hammers when you’re bored?”

“Yep. I guess you don’t keep me entertained.”

“Guess I’ll have to try harder,” he murmurs as he kisses down my neck and toward my breasts.

“Try a lot harder,” I say, smiling like a moron as he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks.