The Mafia Contract Series

Chapter 10



I’m surprised to find Angelo’s friend waiting for me after class and as he lounges against the wall, the look he wears is one of troubled torment.

For a split second, I see him first and my heart shifts as I sense a connection to him that I can’t explain. Then he lifts those long lashes and stares at me with a dark gaze and I melt inside. Feeling angry about that, I scowl, and he straightens up and pushes off the wall. “You’re coming with me.”

“I’ve got study break, I need it.” I toss my hair over my shoulder and make to pass, and a hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, anchoring me beside him as he starts walking.

“Hey.”

I make to protest, and he says almost in amusement. “Save it. Nobody’s listening, anyway.”

He walks at speed, and I almost run to keep up and it gives me no time to think. I know this my brother’s doing. It’s typical of him, sending his monkey in his place instead of having the balls to deliver the news personally.

We head outside and my rucksack falls off my shoulder, almost making it to the ground before he stops and sweeps it up and carries on, pulling me beside him.

“You don’t have to walk so fast, you know. I’ll come quietly. A little less pace, please.”

He slows down and I catch my breath and now we’re away from eager ears, I say quietly, “Thanks for earlier, that girl was seriously nuts.”

“Did she give you any more trouble?”

I stop and stare at him in surprise. “You knew she was in my class?”

“I know everything, Winter.”

“Fuck, you do.” I laugh and love how his usually dark features twist into a grin, revealing a personality behind the brawn.

In fact, this guy is every fantasy I ever had, which is bad news for both of us and so I’m careful not to reveal how much he interests me.

“You never answered my question.” He cocks his brow and I shrug. “A little. Usual stuff. The classic threatening letter that I tossed in her face, earning me a warning from Professor Adams.”

He looks at me with a hard expression. “You got punished for something she did?”

“No, I got punished for throwing something at her head. He never asked why, and I never told him.”

“I’ll deal with her.”

“You won’t have to. The whole class now knows my heritage when he called me Miss. Sontauro. I’m now officially untouchable.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

He starts walking and I say casually, “You still haven’t told me your name.”

“No.”

“Well.”

“What does it matter?”

Sighing, I say scratchily, “Just tell me your fucking name, for god’s sake.

Is it something weird and embarrassing? I really hope it is.”

He rolls his eyes. “Alessandro. Happy?”

He carries on and I smile to myself. Alessandro. Why does that name wrap me in comfort and make me feel safe?

We head toward their house, and I wonder what’s going on. Knowing Angelo, he’s pissed about something, probably something I’ve done, and I prepare myself for the battle that always happens when I’m around him.

As we near the house, I look at it in the daylight and note how clean it looks–tidy even. There’s nothing out of place and the paint looks fresh and the windows clean.

“I’m impressed.”

“Why?”

“The house looks so clean.”

“We won’t have it any other way. Flynn is a clean freak, and goes into a rage if anything’s out of place and arranged for a team of cleaners to stop by most days. The rest of them are no different. It’s the only thing we have any control over in a chaotic world. Surely you can relate to that.”

This must be the longest sentence he’s ever spoken, and I understand every word. We all live like this. Order is everything, and it appears to be no different outside of the fortress we usually live in. Angelo is the same, meticulously tidy, with an eye for the finer things in life. I’m just surprised to find his friends are the same.

“Who lives over there?”

I point to a similar house next door that also looks polished and orderly and he says, bored already, “Rich kids. Guys with more money than the federal reserves and more admired than the best influencer out there.”

“They sound…” I falter and catch his eyes, noting the raised brow and interest in my next word. “Boring.”

We share a look, and he laughs softly as I grin, and a moment of understanding passes between us. We are from the same mold–we all are, and normality may be something we crave, but it’s also something we despise.

We head inside and Alessandro places my rucksack carefully on a hook by the door and says abruptly, “They’re through here.”

“They?”

He completely ignores me and strides in, expecting me to follow and with a sigh I fall in line because this needs dealing with and it’s not going to be easy.

Angelo looks up as I enter a huge kitchen and I note he’s surrounded by his friends, all looking at me with a hint of curiosity.

My eyes find Flynn and I offer him a shy smile, which doesn’t go unnoticed by my brother as he says curtly, “Sit down, Winter.”

He points to a vacant barstool.

Sighing, I do as he says because some battles aren’t worth fighting and as I sit meekly waiting, he visibly exhales with relief.

“You were hurt.”

“So.”

He just throws me that look that tells me it hurts him more than me to know it, and I feel my anxiety ebbing away. Being twins does bring with it a closer bond and if I thought anyone hurt him, I would be so angry I would hunt them down and make sure they could never hurt him again. So, I cut him some slack and smile sweetly. “I’m fine. In fact, now people know who I am, I’m sure those days are gone.”

“How?”

“My professor. He called me Miss. Sontauro, that kind of let the cat out of the bag.”

“I see.”

Flynn slides a coffee toward me and winks. “You may need this.”

“Thanks.” We share a smile, and I can tell that irritates the hell out of Angelo because he throws Flynn a warning look that would cause a heart attack in any normal guy. Flynn just laughs and turns away and takes his seat and leans forward with interest, as if he’s expecting a show of some kind.

“Why am I here, Angelo?” I feel suddenly weary with all the mind games, and he says tightly, “You’re moving in.”

“No, I’m not.”

I stare at him with my stubborn streak firmly in control, and he shakes his head. “Non-negotiable. The top floor is yours and you can design it how you like. Just let me have the details and I’ll arrange the makeover.”

“No, Angelo.”

He completely ignores me. “When we party, you stay in your rooms.

Nobody gets to go there, not even us. Total privacy and your safe place. You will cook for us once a week and keep the place tidy. We have cleaners and a food delivery twice a week. Just add your requirements to the list.”

“But…” I have no words and I’m beaten already, and Angelo knows that because he looks a little sad on my behalf and says gently, “It’s for your own safety, Winter. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you because of me.”

“You think I got hit because of you?”

He nods. “I knew Eden would go after Claudia. I just never expected you to help out, which reminds me what a fool I am. You never could resist helping someone. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last. This way, the whole fucking campus will leave you alone, and that makes me happy.”

I feel so trapped and despite trying to be strong, I feel the walls closing in on me and the tears build that I fail to disguise.

“But I want to be normal, Angelo.” My voice sounds weak and troubled and from the look of torment in Angelo’s eyes, I know I’ve hit him where it hurts the hardest.

He looks so tortured and shifts from his seat and heads my way, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. Just his sigh of relief and the tightness of his arms tells me how afraid he is for me. This isn’t about Rockwell Academy and any threats that may bring. It’s life. Angelo is afraid of what that will involve for both of us, and we are all we’ve got. Part of me understands why he’s doing this. This is our time. However brief, it’s a time when we can be together with nobody controlling us. The calm before the storm and as I sink into the familiar strong arms of my twin, I let my tears stain his shirt because, in truth, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

For a moment there’s silence and then I hear him say roughly, “Get her friend’s things too. She’s moving with her.”

Jerking back, I stare at him in horror, and he runs his thumb down my cheeks, wiping the tears away. “You won’t be alone; you can have her. She’ll keep you company; it’s my one concession.”

Glancing past him, Flynn throws me a twisted grin and I say quickly, “Emma will hate it. She’ll die of a heart attack the minute she steps through those doors. She won’t come and you can’t make her. She needs to study; she wants to go to Harvard…” He places his finger against my lips. “Quiet. She’ll be safer here than anywhere.”

“Are you sure about that?” I look past him to Flynn, who shrugs and grabs a beer from the fridge and Angelo says over his shoulder, “Hands off the girls, all of you.”

He turns and says almost as an aside, “I don’t think you’ve met my friends, Winter. Flynn is our psychotic friend who couldn’t give a fuck about anything. You’ll be lucky if he talks to you, otherwise he’s like a shadow from your nightmares.”

“Only yours.” Flynn flips him the bird and Angelo sighs. “Ivan is the one with all the tattoos. If he likes you, he’ll teach you how to curse in Russian.

Failing that, he’s only interested in fighting and fucking, so stay the hell away from him.”

Ivan looks my way and nods as a sign of respect and, for some reason, a shiver passes through me. He looks so angry, battle hard already and I’m pretty sure those tattoos cover a world of abuse, judging by the dead look in his eyes. Brutally handsome, beautiful in a twisted way, rough, capable and a machine with rippling muscles and close-cropped hair. Most women’s dream and every man’s nightmare. The strong silent type by the looks of him.

“You’ve met Alessandro. Go to him if you need some heavy lifting or protection. He’s a fighter like Ivan, but a little less brutal and won’t bring the fucking homicide cops calling like our Russian friend here.”

Ivan grins and Angelo sighs before pointing at a guy who scares the hell out of me just from his eyes alone. A killer’s eyes hooded and unemotional, with dark Arabic features that hide emotion well.

“Malik is the brains in the room. Figuring out our enemies and planning their demise. He’s the one to go to if you have a problem. He ensures the running of the place and makes sure we’re all up to speed. Great with computers and responsible for security.” I look at Malik and shiver inside.

There’s nothing there. Just anger and threats; a storm building that will involve heartache for someone down the line.

Angelo says. “Every single one of my friends comes from organized crime. Ivan is Bratva, Malik is middle east mafia, Alessandro Italian mafia and Flynn is west coast.”

I look at them with a new level of respect and Angelo says darkly, “Take a good look, because this is your new family. I’m not talking about Rockwell Academy either, because when we leave here, we set up on our own.”

“Angelo.” I gasp and he nods, twisting my face to look into his emotionless eyes. “We have plans, Winter, and the first one is to set you free.

Don’t fear the future all the time you have us. Trust us, honor us and accept us because we are each other’s future, and nobody is going to step in the way of that.”

“But how?”

I want to believe him more than anything, but I’m not a fool and he will never win against our father and his whole fucked–up operation back home.

Angelo rests his head against mine and stares into my eyes, whispering softly, “We’re taking them all down from within and we begin at home.”

He strokes my hair like he would a favorite pet and as I see the person he has become it fills me with fear-for him.


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