Bratva Sinner (A Possessive Mafia Romance)

“What a fucking mess,” German said on the drive back to my place a few hours later. He leaned back in the passenger seat, looking exhausted, a set of haggard bags under his eyes. “Marvin was a good soldier. Not much of a fighter though.”

I gripped the steering wheel. “That never should’ve happened.”

“How did it happen, Luke?”

I heard the accusation in his tone. I knew what he meant, and I couldn’t help but blame myself, too.

Maher never should’ve felt confident enough to attempt a hit like that.

He’d been nipping at my heels for years, but he never had the balls to send a crew into my home with guns blazing. It never should’ve happened, because Maher should’ve been terrified to even try something like that—although I had to note that he wasn’t among the crew that tried to take me down, and they were all dead.

“I don’t know what he was thinking,” I said through clenched teeth. “The bastard’s been a coward all the time, and now he suddenly thinks he can step into my own club.”

“What are you going to do about it?” German leaned closer. “You gonna walk away from this too?”

I stared at him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, this isn’t the first time Maher’s tried to kill you, and yet the guy’s still running around on the streets. What more do you need to finally attack back? You need me to surgically implant some fucking balls on you, or what?”

I grabbed German by the collar and slammed him back against the car. His bared his teeth and I slammed my forehead into his nose. It didn’t break, but it came close, and German growled in pain as I stared into his eyes.

“Say that shit again and next time I’ll kill you.” I held his collar tighter and pushed him harder against the door.

“Save some of that anger for Maher.” German held my gaze, not breaking away. “I know you used to be friends with him, but that friendship is long dead.”

I let out a sharp breath, like he’d kicked me in the ribs, and released him. I moved back to my chair and leaned against the headrest, staring up at the roof before squeezing my eyes shut.

I knew Maher, back in the day. We came up together, learned how to hustle on the same corners, and would’ve stayed friends if we hadn’t joined different families. Slowly we drifted apart until that friendship turned into rivalry, and now he was trying to kill me in my own club.

German was right. I let that old friendship blind me to the present reality. Maher didn’t give a fuck about me anymore and was going to do whatever he had to do to get himself in the good graces of the Lionettis. If that meant killing me, then he’d pull the trigger himself. I couldn’t lie to myself and pretend otherwise.

“Set up a meeting with Franklin,” I said.

German grunted. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I want to kill Maher, and the last time Maher attacked me, it was after I had a meeting with Franklin.” I glanced at German and waited a beat. “You putting it together?”

“You think he’s following Franklin around.”

“Pretty much. Set up a meeting with Franklin, tell him I’ll sell the dossier for twenty grand. He’ll jump on that shit.”

“Your pricing’s all over the place, boss.”

I glared at him. “Don’t be funny now, asshole.”

German only shook his head. “You’ve got a hard head, you know that?” He climbed out of the car and walked off, hands shoved into his pockets.

I watched him go. I should’ve been pissed that he’d talk to me like that but I knew he was right. I was soft on Maher because of my past with him, but like all things in this life, the situation had changed.

Maher put Cara in danger.

If we hadn’t reacted fast, if I hadn’t thrown her into the corner and out of the way, if Marvin hadn’t been such a big, juicy target, if those stupid morons had found cover instead of standing right in the middle of the room—well, she could be dead. We all could be dead.

I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

German was right.

I climbed out of the car and walked up my stoop. I opened the door and instantly something felt wrong. I had my gun halfway drawn as I stepped into the living room and found Yuri sitting in a chair, Cara sitting on the couch, and Pakhan Evgeni pacing across from them. Several of the Pakhan’s guards sat at the kitchen table.

Evgeni glared at me and waved a hand. “Put the gun away, Luke.”

I shoved it back into my waistband and pulled the door closed. “Pakhan, I didn’t expect to see you here.” I looked at Yuri who only shook his head slightly. Cara stared down at her hands, and I could feel her tension rolling off her in waves—first the shooting, and now this. What a fucked-up day.