Mafia love

Didn’t make it any easier though. It didn’t. They were my friends. Guys I would have trusted with my life.

“Why… why?” The words fell from my lips straight from the wound of betrayal. I shook my head at them.

Jefferson had the audacity to smile at me. He had the audacity to look at me and smile, like this was nothing. It made me feel like throwing up.

“Nothing personal, Taylor, or should I say Rossi?” He smirked.

Holloway stood in that casual ma

“Nothing personal? Really? We were friends. Sinclaire could have died.” When I thought of all that had happened, my soul ached, and I had to fight to keep from crumbling inside. I had to fight my emotions that tore at me the more it sunk in that they were involved.

“Sinclaire is a fool in love with you.” Holloway laughed.

Out the corner of my eye I noticed how Luc tensed at the mention of that. Looked like everyone could see how deeply Sinclaire cared for me long before I did.

“So, he deserved to die?”

“He was in the way.”

Luc raised his gun higher. “Cut the shit. How’d you get in the house?

How’d you know to come in here?”

That was the important stuff, but I had so many questions I wanted to ask.

“Instructions from our boss,” Jefferson answered.

“What boss?” I had to ask. I had to know how this whole thing unraveled and led to me. It was vague in my mind, and maybe I didn’t need specifics, but I sure as fuck wanted to know how these people got to my friends and what price they put on my head to lure them to the dark side.

“Typical Amelia Taylor. She wants to know why.”

“Tell her,” Luc cut in, his voice taking on an edge I’d never heard.

Jefferson laughed. “Sure thing. Months ago, we were approached with an offer. We both got a phone call each. No name, just a muffled voice. The guy offered us ten grand each if we could give him access to our staff database. Of course, we did it, and they fixated on you. After that, we were offered a million each to work with them. An irrefusable offer. It took a while, but from some old hospital records they had on you, they were able to get access to your DNA files, but it was inconclusive. Inconclusive with a trail, though, because they noticed a glitch in your listing on the system. It was a dead giveaway that something had been changed. That was actually what highlighted you. This guy has friends in high places, but looks like Don Raphael has the same kinds of friends, too, because they couldn’t match out your identity. They tried to take you several times. It was actually me who suggested they do it the old-fashioned straightforward way and take your hairbrush and lipstick. That was all they needed to confirm their theory of you being the secret daughter of the head of the Chicago mafia.

We were shocked to shit when we found out.”

So, that was it.

“Good, story over.” Luc spoke the minute Jefferson finished and without warning fired a shot straight into his arm.

Holloway sprang into action, whipping out his gun, taken by surprise.

Luc shoved me out of the way as Jefferson went after me.

When shots were fired, I dove behind the desk, but Holloway came after me. I never expected him to. He just went for me.

“Can’t get the key, so I’ll grab the next prize,” he taunted.

I jumped out of the way when he tried to grab me and sent a kick straight to his chest. He stumbled, stu

Holloway had that built that made you easily mistake him for being less tough, but he had muscle and speed. His thin presence was more athletic than on the lanky side, which gave him the advantage. Being used to him, I knew that.

I straightened, raised my gun, but damn, he sent a punch to my hand and knocked it out. Shit, I needed to focus because he could take me down now if he wanted to. He was taller than me and stronger. He also knew me too.

We’d been on so many raids and other encounters where we’d had to fight.

Luc and Jefferson were on the floor now. Fists were flying. Luc looked like he was wi

He didn’t get far though, and neither did they.

Three shots sounded, rippling through the air one after the other.

Bang, bang… bang.

That was all I heard. The two guys dropped dead before me, the bullets going straight to their heads, and the grip Holloway had around my arms loosened.

“Holloway.” I winced as he released me completely.

I snapped around to see his eyes roll back in his head before he fell. The bullet got him in his neck.

My eyes raised to meet Dad’s, and I observed the vicious expression he had on his face and the strength he exuded with his two guns held out in front of him. He looked like a mobster, and not just any old mobster either.

He looked like he would kill you with one look.

Another shot sounded.

It came from Luc. He shot Jefferson straight in his head.

Something … something strange happened in my heart as the seconds passed and it sunk in. Reality sunk in. The reality of what had just taken place.

Jefferson and Holloway. My friends, now dead, again because of me.

These people after my father lured them over to darkness, relying on their greed, and now they were no more.

Jefferson and Holloway. I’d known them for the same length of time I knew Max and Sinclaire. So much had happened in so little time.

Unlike the normal energy I’d feel when we defeated the bad guys, I felt sick. I looked back to Dad, and he lowered his guns, two Berettas.

“Amelia.” He took a step toward me but stopped. A stream of blood ran down the line from his nose to the top of his lip, and he dropped the guns as he collapsed.

“Dad!” I rushed up to him. Luc joined us in panic.

“Boss, shit!” Luc lifted his head, but Dad looked so lifeless.

Tears ran down my cheeks at his lifeless form. “Dad, wake up.”

I couldn’t lose him too, not now. Not now.

One breath escaped his lips, and more blood poured from his nose. I pressed my hand to his neck searching for a pulse, but I couldn’t feel one.

CHAPTER 2

Amelia

I sat next to Dad’s bed, watching him.

He was sleeping now. The doctors had come to the house and said he’d overexerted himself, but really, what had happened was to be expected for someone in his condition.

He was fading fast. He put on a front, a very harsh exterior, and sometimes didn’t look as sick as he was. He looked frail and not like the father I’d known ten years ago but still strong.

Even now as he lay in bed.

He’d come to for a few minutes earlier, and I wanted to see him awake properly before I moved from his side. I couldn’t bear it if I left him and he left me forever.