Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs Book 2) Read online

  I stopped for a second. Winter took my hand and squeezed it. This was the hard part.

  “Pen tried to stop her. Liv took a step forward and Pen reached out, tried to grab her wrist. She almost caught her too, but Liv slipped away and plunged down sixty stories to the street below.”

  I closed my eyes. I still remembered the look on Penny’s face: absolutely gutted and destroyed and hollow. She regained some of her light over the years, but was never the same.

  “I’m so sorry,” Winter whispered. “That’s horrible. I didn’t realize.”

  “Liv is why I will protect my family at all costs. I didn’t know Liv was feeling that way, and if I did, I could’ve helped her. There were so many other options, she didn’t have to do something so extreme. If only I’d thought to ask her, maybe things would be different.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. You know that.”

  “But we all do anyway. I know Penny does and Erin to some extent. When Liv died, it destroyed our family, and we’re still picking up the pieces.”

  “Is that why you can’t let this stuff with Roman go?”

  “I lost one sister. I won’t lose another. He’s a threat, and I destroy threats.” But I didn’t feel the same passion anymore. Telling Liv’s story was like clearing a backed-up drain. All my rage slowly filtered away until I was left empty again.

  “Roman doesn’t want to hurt your sisters. He doesn’t care about your family at all. You have to realize that.”

  “His way of life is a threat to them. He wants the Oligarchs to continue acting like violent, selfish thugs. The only difference between us and the crime families we fund is money and privilege. Otherwise, we’re all a bunch of monsters and killers and thieves.”

  “Talk to him. This war might ruin everything. Do you really think killing’s the only way?”

  I looked at her and saw so much of Liv in her eyes. They didn’t look alike—but Winter had some of Liv’s spirit, some of that strange, ineffable quality that drew me closer. I wanted to listen to Winter, but most of all, I wanted Winter to listen to me. I wanted her to hear me and affirm my worth as a man and a husband and a brother.

  “If I meet with Roman, I won’t give him an inch.”

  “You won’t have to. Only be more reasonable with your demands.”

  “It won’t end well. You have to know that. It’ll only end in violence.”

  “Try, Darren. Try for me.” Winter kissed my neck. “Please.”

  I pulled her tight and held her there. I hugged her close and breathed her scent while I closed my eyes and thought of the last time I saw Liv.

  We were standing in the kitchen. She was eating a massive slice of pie and I had a Coke. Have fun in New York. In a few months, you’ll be a college girl.

  That’s the last thing I ever said to my sister. I wish I’d told her I loved her, because I did, fiercely and unflinchingly. But we never said it out loud.

  Strange which details remain and which have faded.

  “Call Cassie one more time. Set something up. Tell her we’ll meet on neutral ground.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed me one more time and smiled. There was a deep well of sadness in her eyes.

  I didn’t want pity. I didn’t need it or deserve it. I’d done horrible things in the name of revenge over the years.

  Revenge for my little brother. Revenge for my dead sister.

  But now I saw another way.

  Winter was the key. Without her, I’d never reach out to Roman.

  She was right. Violence could only get me so far.

  I just hoped I could keep this rage that’d been burning so bright for so long under control when I was finally face to face with my nemesis and former friend.

  29

  Winter

  Heading out to Ohio was like going to Chicago, except nobody set off bombs in our path. We rolled along through cornfields, past farmhouses, down lonely highways, until the convoy took a bumpy gravel road to a lone barn standing in a sea of wheat.

  Darren wasn’t talkative. He hadn’t been since he told me the story about Liv, but I did notice something strange.

  He seemed lighter. Like keeping Liv’s death to himself was a burden, and telling me about it somehow made it better.

  Not fixed, not gone, but better.

  I tried to imagine the amount of hurt he’d gone through. Roman tried to murder his little brother, then his younger sister killed herself. He was the head of an Oligarch family and so much rode on his decisions. The pressure of that was enough to crush anyone—and yet he soldiered onwards.

  It explained so much about him. The obsession with keeping his family safe. The violence and ruthlessness. Darren was a broken man, but one that struggled to keep himself together. I wished I could crawl under his skin and understand the twisted thoughts that kept him going at night, but I’d only ever caught glimpses from afar.

  I leaned my head back and stared at the roof of the car.

  My own life seemed so simple in comparison. I was abused and stalked and gaslit—but at least my mother was alive out in Vegas and still loved me. I hadn’t lost anyone, not really. I was still going.

  But maybe I was as broken as him. Maybe that was why I identified so much with his pain.

  We were two of a kind. Both of us destroyed by the past but still limping on.

  There wasn’t much choice. Time kept moving. And I was what I was—there was no escaping it.

  Choices and happenstance. All the circumstance of my days. It added up to what made me.

  Darren was the same. He never chose any of his tragedy. He didn’t want his little brother to nearly die—he didn’t ask for his sister to jump off a building. And yet it happened, and now he had to assimilate that into his sense of self.

  Circumstance and chance.

  I touched his hand as the convoy pulled up outside the barn. Roman’s cars were already parked. I smiled slightly to myself. Cassie would never let him be late.

  “Are you ready?” I asked quietly.

  “I don’t know.” He stared out the window at the waving wheat field. The afternoon sunlight made the tall brown stalks glow golden. “Can I admit something to you?”

  “Always.”

  “I’m afraid.”

  I moved closer and kissed his neck. “Of what?”

  “Of what I’ll do.” His eyes narrowed. He was tense, like an arrow on a bowstring. “I’m afraid I’ll kill him the first chance I get.”

  “You won’t. You know what’ll happen if you do.”

  An angry smile. “He’ll be dead. That’s what’ll happen.”

  “Darren.”

  “I know.” He looked into my eyes and kissed my lips then leaned his forehead against mine. “You trust me, don’t you?”

  “I want to.”

  “That’s enough then. I want to protect you as much as I want to protect my sisters. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

  I hoped he meant it.

  We stayed in that position for another few second before he pulled away. I was reluctant to step outside. I could feel his anger and anxiety drifting off his skin like fog.

  But he opened the car door and the rush of humid, warm air brushed over my skin.

  I followed him onto the dusty walk. His men fanned out. Roman was already inside.

  “Stay out here,” Darren ordered Pavlo. “If you come across Roman’s men, do nothing.”

  “Yes, sir.” Pavlo gave him a half salute.

  Anthony joined us as we wandered toward the old barn.

  “Any second thoughts?” he asked, grinning big.

  “If I had any, they don’t matter now.” Darren hesitated in front of the door.

  Maeve owned this place. She’d offered it as a refuge. It was neutral ground, unfamiliar to both Darren and Roman, and she swore it would be private. Darren said the barn used to be part of a network of bootleggers back in the Prohibition days, and Maeve’s men still used the old tunnels to move heroin around the country.


  Amazing the lengths men went to make money.

  Darren pushed the door open and strode inside.

  The space was dim. Light streamed in from high windows. It seemed empty at first—there were no armed men waiting in every corner. Roman could’ve hidden his soldiers, but I had the feeling he wouldn’t bother.

  A table was set up. The floor was swept clean. Cassie, Roza, and Roman stood at the far end.

  I slowed when I saw my best friend.

  She looked good. Healthy and tan and happy. She took a step forward, her mouth opening in a massive smile. She wore a simple flowy top and tight jeans and understated makeup—in short, exactly how I remembered her.

  It felt like forever since we saw each other.

  “Hey, Cass,” I said.

  She ran over. Roman grimaced and reached for her, but Roza stopped him from following.

  I met Cassie in the middle and hugged her so hard I thought my ribs might explode.

  “Oh, fuck, girl. I really fucking missed you.”

  “I missed you too. When’s the last time we went this long without seeing each other?”

  “When you left me for that big goon.”

  Cassie beamed. “That’s right. How’s married life?”

  “So far so good. You?”

  “It’s great.” She hugged me again, nuzzling close. “When this is over, we can be friends again, right?”

  “I promise.”

  “The boys won’t like it.”

  “I know. We’ll make them get used to it.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “Then they can go to hell.”

  She laughed and held my hands before looking over my shoulder at Darren. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. My wife can be very convincing.”

  I turned to look at him. He lingered at the edge of the room. Anthony stood behind him, his face pale.

  I glanced over at Roman. It took me a second to realize that he wasn’t looking at Darren.

  Roman was staring at Anthony.

  I couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was caught somewhere between longing and sorrow. I didn’t know what the hell to make of that. Roman supposedly wanted to kill Anthony, and yet he looked like all he wanted to do was give the kid a big bear hug and have a good cry with him.

  “Winter.” Darren’s voice was cold. I smiled at Cassie and refused to let myself cry.

  “We’ll fix this,” she whispered. “I promise. We will.”

  “I hope so.” I squeezed her hands then turned and walked back to my husband and his brother.

  Anthony looked like he wanted to run.

  Darren approached the table. He didn’t sit.

  Roman stood at the other side. Only three feet of cheap wood and years and years of animosity, anger, bloodshed, attempted murder, and dark family ties separated them.

  Nobody spoke. The tension was thick. Cassie looked like she wanted to dig a hole, but she hung on Roman’s arm resolutely. His assistant, Roza, kept her chin up, but even she seemed uncomfortable.

  Anthony wouldn’t approach the table. He lingered a few feet away. Roman kept looking back at him.

  “I’m glad you came,” I said finally, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

  “I can’t resist a good meeting,” Roman said, but didn’t smile at his own joke. He glanced at Darren. “Are you here in good faith or is this another one of your bullshit games?”

  Darren showed his teeth. “Questioning my honor isn’t the best way to start a meeting.”

  “And yet here I am, doing just that.”

  Darren leaned forward, palms flat on the table. “I don’t have to justify myself to a man that tries to murder children.”

  Roman’s lips pulled back in a grimace. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And yet you haven’t tried to offer an explanation. What happened that night, Roman? Did you finally realize that your fucked-up daddy didn’t really love you? Afraid he’d leave everything to my brother instead?”

  “My father was a monster, but he wasn’t stupid. And neither am I.”

  “And yet you tried to murder a little kid. Why’d you do it? I’ve been begging for a reason for years and you’ve given me nothing but silence. If you want to end this, that’s what I need.”

  Roman didn’t move. He stood very still, watching Darren closely. Cassie seemed uncomfortable and confused, and I wondered how much she knew about this story. Probably nothing—I doubted Roman would tell her about trying to murder a little kid.

  “This has always been your problem, Darren. Even back when we were friends. You’re so single-minded that you can’t imagine the world works any different from how you think it does.”

  “More bullshit excuses.” Darren straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. “Even after all this time, you have nothing.”

  “Is that why you came? To dredge up the past? You won’t get what you want and we both know it.”

  “Despite what you think about me, I’m here in good faith. If you want to end the war, you’ll need to make sacrifices. But first, tell me why you shot my brother in the chest.”

  Roman’s nostrils flared. Anger passed across his face and he stared death at Anthony. I could almost see it—Roman standing over a dying little boy with a gun in his hand and that look on his face.

  But none of it made any sense. Why would Roman try to murder a kid—his half-brother at that? And why would he refuse to give a reason?

  Darren was too lost in anger to see that something wasn’t adding up.

  “I don’t owe you a goddamn thing,” Roman said. “I’m willing to negotiate, but I won’t give you that.”

  “You fucking bastard. After all this time, you’re still an egomaniac. You’re a fucking danger to this world.”

  Darren reached behind him and pulled a gun out from beneath his jacket.

  Time stood still. Darren raised the weapon, his eyes wide, his nostrils flared. He breathed like a dog panting in the heat.

  Roza moved first. She drew a gun and aimed it calmly at Darren’s face. Roman shifted slightly to make sure he was in front of Cassie.

  Still protecting her, even now. I knew their love was real, and that was more proof.

  Darren’s hand didn’t shake. He aimed the gun at Roman’s face. At this distance, he wouldn’t miss.

  And if he pulled that trigger, the world would end.

  Roza would kill him. Cassie would lose her man and I’d lose mine. It was strange to think of Darren like that—but it was the truth.

  I didn’t want him to die.

  He was my captor and tormentor. He was also my husband and the first person to get beneath my skin.

  All of that was now balanced on his trigger finger.

  “That’s how it’ll be then?” Roman asked softly. “We both go down together? It’s almost fitting, you know.”

  “Darren,” I said but was too afraid to reach for him. “Please, don’t.”

  “I’ll give up my life in exchange for yours,” Darren said and his voice was eerily calm, like he’d made up his mind. I wanted to scream, wanted to cry, but we were all poised on the edge of a drop and a single movement could push us either way. “That way the rest of my family won’t have to worry anymore.”

  “Typical. You’re such a martyr, Darren.”

  “Penny and Erin wouldn’t want this,” I said quickly, before he could give in to his anger. “Your mother wouldn’t want this. Anthony doesn’t want this.” I looked back at his brother and all my pleading died in my chest.

  Anthony was ghost-white and tears rolled down his cheeks.

  Why the hell was he crying? Now of all times? When I needed him the most? Anthony might be able to talk his brother out of this violence. He was the reason for everything, the catalyst for Darren’s ceaseless war against Roman, and now he was crying instead of trying to save his brother’s life.

>   What was happening?

  “You’re a monster,” Darren whispered, raising the gun slightly. His finger trembled on the trigger. Just a little more pressure and it would end. “My only regret is that Liv isn’t around to hear about this. She hated you more than I did. We all hate you for what you did to our brother. Fuck you, Roman, and I hope you rot in hell. I’ll be with my sister.”

  “Don’t,” I shouted.

  “Cassie,” Roman said.

  “Stop!”

  Anthony threw himself forward. I screamed as he crashed into Darren’s shoulder, knocking the gun aside. It went off, but the bullet lodged in the wall harmlessly. Darren struggled against Anthony, and it was pure luck that Roza didn’t kill them both. By all rights, she should have.

  “He didn’t shoot me!”

  Everyone stared. Roza’s gun drooped and her mouth dropped open.

  Anthony’s face was drenched in tears. He showed his teeth in a horrible grimace of pure agony. Darren looked confused then pushed his brother away. The pair of them stood opposite each other, a gun between them.

  “What are you talking about?” Darren asked, glancing at Roman.

  Roman stood with a stony expression, his hands keeping Cassie behind him.

  “Roman didn’t shoot me.” Anthony was crying again and the sobs made it hard to understand him.

  “Explain yourself.” Darren seemed more confused than angry. “What’s going on?”

  “You don’t have to,” Roman said and it sounded like years of sorrow weighed down his voice.

  Anthony shook his head. “You’ve done enough. You never had to protect me the way you did.”

  “You’re my brother.” Roman took a step forward. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Shut up,” Darren growled, aiming the gun at him again.

  “Stop, Darren.” Anthony walked to him and gently pushed the gun down. “He didn’t shoot me. He saved my life back then, and he’s been covering for me ever since.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t take the lying anymore. I just can’t do it.” Anthony touched Darren on the cheek. “You won’t forgive me and I won’t deserve it if you do. But I hope you can understand.”