Bratva Sinner (A Possessive Mafia Romance)

“Holy shit.” Franklin leaned forward. “You got more?”

I flipped through two more pictures. One was a popular anchorman for the local news network, and the other was a powerful cop with the PPD. He gawked at them before I took the phone away and shoved it in my pocket again.

“So you see why you might want to consider taking the risk,” I said.

Franklin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not kidding. And there’s a whole dossier of that shit? More guys than just those three?”

“At least twenty men, all of them important, and almost all of them rich.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “A blackmailer’s wet dream.”

“You see why I came to you first then.”

He looked at Cara. “How the fuck did your old man come across this? The word is he robbed the Lionettis. Is that true?”

“I don’t know how he did it,” Cara said. “But it’s true, he stole it somehow, and he died for it.”

Franklin crossed himself. “May God rest his soul. Look, I’m interested, but the price has got to be right. I can do three grand.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Try twenty grand. You can easily triple your investment.”

“Twenty grand’s a fuck-ton of cash.”

“And we both know you’ve got it. You’re about to rob a bank.”

“Fair enough.” Franklin leaned back, arms crossed. “Ten grand. You know I can’t do more.”

“I’ll come down to fifteen, but I’m not negotiating anymore. I’ll move onto the next name on my list.”

“Fifteen.” He stroked his beard again. “All right, fifteen, I’ll think about fifteen. Let’s see how this job goes and maybe I’ll do fifteen.” He leaned toward me, eyes shining with excitement. “Promise me you won’t sell it right away. Give me a few weeks, at least.”

“I’ll give you a few days, then I’m shopping around. No promises beyond that.”

“Fine, you fucking Russian prick.” Franklin climbed out of the booth. “I wish you both the very best, you psychotic bastards. The Lionettis are going to be pissed when they hear about this.” He laughed as he walked away.

I watched him go then looked at Cara. “What do you think?”

She seemed at a total loss. “He’s crazy.”

“He’s definitely crazy.”

“Is he really going to rob a bank right now?”

I shrugged and checked my watch. “Probably. I mean, Franklin’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. That’s the one thing you can count on with him.”

“Honor among thieves?”

“Something like that.” I got out of the booth and Cara followed. “But notice how he didn’t say he’d keep this to himself.”

Cara walked close against me as we headed toward the door. The Panera employees glared at me like I was supposed to buy something, but whatever.

“You think he’s going to spread it around that you’re looking to sell.” She chewed her lip. “But why would he do that?”

“His crew does all right, but he doesn’t have fifteen grand in cash lying around. Even if this bank job goes over, he probably can’t swing it. I’m betting he’ll look for someone to go in on the buy with him, someone to help mitigate some of his responsibility and take off some of the financial burden.” We stepped outside and I looked both ways before walking into the parking lot. “As soon as he starts that search though, the word’ll get out that I’m looking to sell.”

“And the Lionettis will find out, just like you want.”

“Exactly.” I grinned at her and snatched up her hand. “You’re starting to get it.”

As we reached the car, a loud bang exploded out from the nearby bank. I gaped for a second then laughed as more gunshots went off inside. I couldn’t tell if it was a straight-up shootout or if Franklin was only trying to scare the employees, but I didn’t wait around to find out. If he got himself killed then I’d have to find someone else to do my dirty work for me.

Cara was quiet on the way back to the city. I knew this was hard for her and I wanted to ask what she was thinking, but I decided to give her some space first. These games within games were new, especially when those games involved killing and death.

But I was used to it. I’d been living on these streets long enough to know how things worked. As soon as the Lionettis heard that I was trying to sell off the dossier, they’d come back to the table—or they’d try something stupid.

I drifted from the suburbs and back into the city, taking the long way through the shady, quiet West Philly streets. The neighborhoods got denser and denser, and traffic picked up as I meandered toward University City. As I rolled through a stop sign, I had about two seconds to react to a black SUV barreling toward me through the intersection.