Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance - Page 36

I jumped to my feet and sat down next to her again. I put my arm around her and pulled her against me, hugging her tight as she laughed, wiping at her eyes. A strange emotional wellspring opened up in my chest, and I wanted to hold her, to make her feel better, and I realized that was her power: she was so likable, so kind, and that gentleness was an oasis in a desert of ruthlessness.

She didn’t belong in a hell like the Servant Manor.

“I’m fine now, you know. Except for the whole kidnapping thing. My mom and I are close and she even says that being sent away saved her life. My dad doesn’t give her much money, so she has to keep working to pay the bills, but she says she’s happier now than she ever was back home. So don’t be sad. It all has a happy ending.”

Penny laughed and gently pushed me away. “It’s just that, sometimes I forget the world’s not so easy everywhere else. Not like my life is easy, but you know. It’s comfortable, at least.” She got to her feet and wiped her eyes with her sleeve again. “Please don’t tell my brother I cried in front of you.”

“I won’t, I promise. So long as you promise to be my maid of honor.”

She practically glowed as a smile split her face in half. “You’re really doing it? He said something about that. I thought it was a joke.”

“I don’t have much choice.” I looked at my lap and shrugged. “I figure, if it’s happening, I’d like you there.”

“Then I’ll be right next to you the whole time.” Penny walked over and took my hand. “It’ll be okay. Darren’s all bark.”

“I think your brother has more bite than you realize.”

Her face clouded as she squeezed my fingers, but she didn’t argue. She walked to the door and waved before leaving.

It shut gently behind her and I collapsed back onto the bed.

My head spun with my story, with my mother’s suffering and the bad years that followed, and with the revelation about Roman.

I couldn’t sit on this. I couldn’t just stew.

I hopped up, walked into the hall, and went in search of Darren.

16

Winter

I found Darren in his office poring over documents. He looked tired, haggard almost, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the top button of his black dress shirt left open. He barely glanced up as I stepped into the room.

“Close the door.”

I hesitated, but did as instructed. He still didn’t look over. I drifted to a chair near the fire and felt a strange chill, despite the heat that rolled out from the flames.

“I assumed you’d be hiding in your room for the next week.”

I looked at him. He leaned back in his chair, a glass of something brown in his hand.

“I planned on it until I spoke with Penny.”

He frowned slightly. “I thought we had an agreement.”

“That was before you said we were getting married. Now I think all our previous contracts are null and void.”

He laughed at that. I liked his laugh—low and throaty and genuine. “That’s fair enough. I suppose I can’t keep you from my family if you’re going to be my wife.”

“No, you really can’t.”

“What did my youngest sister have to say for herself?”

“She told me about Anthony.”

His demeanor changed in an instant. His fingers gripped the glass tighter as his face crumbled into a scowl. He didn’t move for a long moment, but his stare said so much more than words ever could. He radiated anger and hurt and betrayal like the fireplace radiated warmth. I wrapped my arms around myself, but forced myself not to look away.

I stepped right into danger, but I had no other choice.

There were too many secrets, and I was intent on peeling one away tonight.

“What exactly did she tell you?” His tone was short and clipped.

“About your mother and Roman’s father.”

He looked away finally. It was as if I’d punched him in the stomach. He threw back the whiskey and sucked in a breath through his teeth. “You were going to find out sooner or later. But I wish Penny had spoken to me about it first.”

“I don’t think she planned on saying anything, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t.” He stood and walked to the side table. He poured more liquor and held up the decanter. “Whiskey?”

I shook my head. He poured me a drink anyway and brought it over.

I accepted more to have something to do with my hands than to drink. I sipped the liquor and let the burn slowly fall down my throat.

He paced away, seething.

“I can’t imagine what you think of my mother.”

“That’s what you’re upset about? My opinion of your mom?”

“Family matters to me more than anything else in this world. Liv—”

“Why do you always bring her up? It’s like she’s constantly in the room, but nobody wants to actually say anything about her.”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Crime
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