Reckless Promise: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 3

  I’m trembling in fear but I tilt my chin up and stare him in the eye. “I have work to do,” I say and my voice is steadier than I expected. “Let go of my arm.”

  He holds me a moment longer, fingers digging into my flesh, before releasing.

  I walk on and he follows. “You know, I’ve been wondering something for a long time.”

  “You’ve been wondering about a lot of things, haven’t you?”

  He laughs and keeps talking as if I hadn’t said anything. “My father wasn’t a kind man. There wasn’t a shred of humanity in that shriveled, shrunken little slab of rotting meat he called his heart. Why did he let you stay here, help you get clean, and give you a job?”

  My hand tightens over the shears and I struggle to keep my breathing under control. It’s a question I’ve asked myself a thousand times since everything happened, and even all these years later, even after living on the man’s property for seven years, I still feel like I don’t fully understand.

  I have theories. Guesses. Good ideas.

  But the truth?

  I came to grips a long time ago with never knowing the truth.

  Not in a place like this surrounded by people so used to living in fantasy and twisting themselves into gossamer spider webs of deceit that I’m not sure anyone really knows anything anymore.

  And the only man that might’ve is gone.

  Good riddance.

  Kellen stops ghosting after me and I walk on a few paces. “Think about it, Tara,” he calls after me. “We’ll have lots of time to discuss details but I’m sure we can work out a deal.”

  I use my free hand to flip him off over my shoulder.

  He laughs and his footsteps recede over the rocky ground.

  Chapter 4

  Kellen

  The conference room in the Hayle manor is tucked back in the far corner of the building close to my father’s former office, which is currently being used by Hugh.

  I don’t love the idea of my slimy cousin taking over my father’s former headquarters, but then again, my father was a real piece of trash—so it’s like swapping bad for worse.

  Albert Manning sits shifting uncomfortably in a chair across from mine while Finn stands near the door looking angry and intimidating. Albert’s been the Hayle family lawyer for two decades now and he shouldn’t be bothered by a guy like Finn, but I think my crew’s reputation precedes us here. The poor old bastard keeps glancing over and looking away and I’m pretty sure he’s about to sweat through that cheap polyester suit he’s got wrapped around his soft, pale Irish ass.

  “Ah, Kellen, uh, yes, good to see you again, I’m happy you called me in today. There’s a lot we have to discuss.”

  “You seem a little nervous, Albert. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea maybe?”

  “No, no, I’m fine.” He glances at Finn again. “Are you sure we don’t need privacy? Much of what I have to say is, ah, confidential family business.”

  “Finn’s fine. Are you going to blab about what we say in here, Finn?”

  “Probably not.” Finn shrugs.

  I gesture at Albert. “See? Probably not. That’s as good as gold, coming from him.”

  “Right.” Albert clears his throat and leans forward. “Okay then, Kellen. I suppose you want to know about your father’s will?”

  “That’s a good start.”

  “Fortunately, it’s a simple matter. He left everything to your mother except for a few trusts established for some of the family. Your uncles, some cousins, and you.”

  “He left me a trust?” I laugh sharply, shaking my head. “What a fucking bastard.”

  “Ah, sorry?” Albert looks confused. “That’s a bad thing? It’s a fairly substantial fund. You won’t be filthy rich, but—”

  “I haven’t taken a dime from my father since the day I walked out of this place seven years ago. Everything I have now, I have because I fought for it. Do you understand, Albert? I struggled and bled to get where I am today.”

  “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Which is where, exactly?”

  I grin at him and lean back in my chair, enjoying his discomfort. “How about we dispense with the formal bullshit, all right? Does that work for you?”

  “Please,” he says, gesturing.

  “I run one of the most successful mafia crews in the area and my strength’s growing every day. My father realized years ago that I’ll be a threat to the Hayle family sooner or later and he’s been doing everything he can to pull me back under his control. Bribes, extortion, even a few assassination attempts. Remember that stripper he sent for my birthday?”

  Finn grunts and nods. “She tried to stab you in the dick.”

  “I think she was aiming for my heart.”

  “I distinctly remember the dick.”

  “Either way.” I look back at Albert, eyes narrowed. “My father was a real piece of shit, but as it turns out, I might be worse. This trust fund is just another way he can try to control me from beyond the grave. Give me some money, make me complacent. And I’m guessing there are stipulations involved?”

  “Ah,” Albert says, really sweating it now, the poor bastard. I know it isn’t his fault but I do enjoy watching him squirm. “Well, yes, there are, but—”

  “I’m betting I won’t like them.”

  “There’s only one, actually.” He takes a breath and lets it out. “You have to be married to get the money.”

  I frown slightly, head tilted, studying him as my mind works in slow circles, trying to come to grips with what he just said. “Repeat that.”

  “Married. To get the money. That’s the only stipulation. Doesn’t say to whom or by when, only that once you’re married, the cash is yours. And Kellen, before you decide to turn the trust away, I’ll remind you that your father is dead and there’s at least fifty million saved for you in discreet and profitable investments.”

  Finn whistles. “Fifty million’s not bad, Kell.”

  “Not bad at all,” I agree, nodding, and it’s a shame it’s all rotten. “But a wife?”

  “You like women. A wife wouldn’t be so bad.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “I like lots of women. As in, plural women, and sometimes plural women in the same night. In the same bed, at the same time. A wife is singular.”

  “You’ll adapt. Open marriage. That sort of thing.”

  I wave a hand. “I’m too old fashioned. I prefer to be single when I sleep around.”

  “If I may?” Albert clears his throat, interrupting our banter, which is annoying. I find our banter charming and hilarious, but I gesture for him to continue anyway. “I know why you’re here. I think everyone does. You want control of the, ah, darker aspects of the family business.”

  “I want control of everything,” I say quietly, feeling my blood simmer in my veins. “I was born to control Hayle Construction. I was bred to run the mafia. Struggle and rage are baked into my flesh and I’ll be damned if anyone else gets a piece of what’s mine.”

  “In that case, you’ll need this money and the respectability a decent wife will bring. I know it’s dangerous to say, but Kellen, you don’t have a good reputation.”

  I lean back, looking at Albert like a viper.

  “The man’s right,” Finn says. “Your reputation is bleak.”

  “Very bleak,” I agree.

  “Bloody almost.”

  “Bloody is a good way to describe my reputation.”

  “But what I don’t get, Mr. Lawyer, is why marrying will help?” Finn’s inspecting his nails like he’s looking at something interesting.

  Albert smiles uncertainly. “It’ll show that Kellen is willing to change. That he’s trying to play the game.”

  “I could always just ask my mother to give me what I want, since my father left everything to her, and not to my shit-stain cousin.”

  Albert nods and somehow looks even more uncomfortable, if that’s possible. “Yes, you could, but there’s a problem. Two years ago, when her illness began, she gave your cousin Hugh her power of attorney. And not just a limited power, but a very broad one, and it went into effect six months ago. In essence, Hugh controls everything and it’s my understanding that your mother is incapable of, ah, countermanding him at the moment.”

  I grind my teeth. “Two years ago?”

  “That’s right. I don’t know the details of how this situation came about, I only did the paperwork.”

  I glance at Finn and he shakes his head.

  I know that look—Finn thinks that whole situation reeks, and I agree.

  Hugh does nothing without having at least a dozen different motives. He wouldn’t become my mother’s power of attorney without the expectation of getting something in return, and I’m not sure how he managed to make it happen under my father’s nose.

  Unless Hugh and my father had an agreement.

  “Essentially, what you’re saying is that I’m fucked.”

  “Yes, essentially.” He sighs and smooths back what’s left of his white hair. “You’d have to get Hugh to give up your mother’s power of attorney first of all. Then you’d have to convince the board to fire him and hire you as the Hayle Construction CEO. And beyond that, there are all the other, uh, loyal members of the family that would need to approve your, um, ascension, so to speak.”

  “None of which will happen.”

  “No, I can’t imagine your cousin will simply hand over everything just because you moved back into the manor.”

  “And there are no other legal recourses?”

  He shakes his head. “I’d be more than happy to let another lawyer take a look at the pertinent paperwork, but I can’t see how you’d wrestle POA from Hugh in court. The documents are airtight. I should know, I drafted them.”

 
“I’ll take you up on that offer.” I glance at Finn. “Have our guy take a look.”

  “Happy to.”

  “Right, very well.” Albert sits back, smiling sadly. “If you’d been around the last seven years, this conversation might be very different, but from my perspective, I simply can’t see a way forward for you here. You can get control of your trust at any time by getting married, but beyond that?” He pats the arms of his chair. “I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”

  “I appreciate you coming to meet with me, Albert. Why don’t you walk out and wait for Finn in the foyer? He’ll give you my lawyer’s contact information and we’ll get copies of those POA documents, all right?”

  “Sounds good.”

  The old lawyer stands. I shake the man’s hand and he heads out, mopping at his brow with a handkerchief, doing his best to ignore the sharp glare Finn gives him. When he’s gone, I slump back in my chair and release a long breath.

  “My dad is a fucking bastard,” I say looking at the ceiling. “You know that, right?”

  “Even dead, the guy’s still trying to fuck you.” Finn comes over the table and sits on the top. “What are you going to do?”

  “Legal way won’t be easy.”

  “Seems more impossible than anything else.”

  I meet his eye and a smile ghosts onto my lips. “But we never were good at the legal way.”

  “No, definitely not.”

  “There are other means.”

  “Less than legal ones.”

  “There’s going to be a lot of work for the boys soon.”

  “They’ll be happy. It’s been boring around here lately.” Finn hops off the table.

  “Boring? You fucking bastard. I keep you all busy.”

  “Oh, sure, intimidating grocery store owners, blackmailing state senators, running illegal gambling schemes, that sort of thing. But nothing so fun as installing our dear leader into the heights of corporate power.”

  “I lied to Albert. I hate our banter.”

  “And now you’re lying to me.” Finn pauses at the doorway. “He was right about one thing, though. You should get married.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “I’m serious.” Finn frowns at me, head tilted. “We could use the funds, but more than that, the lawyer’s right. It’ll make you seem more respectable and we’re breaking into the respectable world right now.”

  “The Hayles family only seems respectable, but you know what they really are.”

  “There’s a difference between a street crew like us and an organized crime family like the Hayles.”

  “And that difference is marriage?”

  Finn shake his head and sighs. “That difference is the sheen of respectability.”

  “The trust thing is my father’s way of keeping me distracted. He wants me to agonize over this stupid marriage thing instead of pushing forward to oust Hugh.”

  “Could be, so why let him win? Take the money. Make yourself respectable.”

  “I’m respectable.”

  “No, Kell. You’re fucking feared.” He leaves the room and I groan. The asshole sure does love to make an exit.

  He’s right, though. The more I sit and think about it, the more I can see how taking a wife might be beneficial. And my mind keeps whirling around and around, imagining all the different potential women I might coerce into taking the vows, but only one stands out.

  Only one seems worthy.

  Only one might be fun.

  She hates me and I hate her right back.

  But she’s been living on these grounds for seven years, and she’s the only person that might actually be able to help.

  Chapter 5

  Tara

  Kellen knocks on my door as the sun turns the sky pink and red and I’m thinking about cooking dinner. My TV’s on mute and I’m sitting on my easy chair reading a paperback book, some random romance novel with more steam than plot, which is how I like them. I frown at the door and squint at it like I might make Kellen disappear with my mind.

  I know it’s him out there. I mean, I don’t have proof—but nobody else comes to my cottage after hours. Only Kellen would bother, and I can’t help but reflect on how much worse my life’s going to be with him around.

  Somehow worse than it was when his father was alive.

  But he doesn’t go away and eventually I pull it open. “What do you want?”

  He holds up a bottle of wine. “Truce.”

  “I’m not interested.” I go to close the door, but he doesn’t let me.

  “That wasn’t a request.” He barges into my cottage, pushing past me and into the little living room.

  “What the hell is your problem?”

  But he laughs as he looks around. “Holy shit, Tara. This place is a wreck.”

  My cheeks turn red with anger and embarrassment. “It’s just cluttered.” I glance at the clothes and shoes piled in a corner, at the dishes in the sink, at the crafting junk I have scattered on the couches from when I got really into crocheting. I could probably put it all away, but why bother? It’s my mess and nobody else ever comes in here. Until now.

  “Cluttered? This is full-on hoarder territory.”

  “No, it’s not, asshole.”

  “Seriously, I knew you were a little messy, but this?”

  “Get out.”

  “No, it’s fine, I’ll stop.” He’s giving me that infuriating grin as he walks into my kitchen and starts rifling through the drawers. “What do you do with yourself in this place anyway? You don’t have a car that I know about and the city is about a half-hour away. You’re sort of stuck in this little house all the time.”

  I clench my jaw. “Thank you for reminding me.”

  “Aren’t you bored?”

  “I like my job.”

  “You like cutting my dad’s grass?”

  “Your dad’s dead and I don’t mow the lawn. I’m the gardener.” I hesitate and cross my arms. “Okay, mowing and watering the grass is one part of my job, but there’s more to it than that.”

  “Right.” He pulls a wine opener from a drawer with a triumphant smile, opens the bottle, and pours two glasses. “Come on, have a drink. You need to loosen up.”

  “If you go away, I’ll happily unwind. I’m not drinking with you.”

  “What else were you doing? Sitting around contemplating your spinsterhood?” He holds the glasses up, grinning. “Come on, Tara. Drink with me.”

  “Kellen.”

  “Right, sorry, you plan on masturbating to extremely kinky online porn and can’t wait to rush me out.”

  “Kellen!”

  “I’ll gladly stay and watch if that’s what you’re into. As much as I hate you, time has been very kind.” His eyebrows raise and I’m distantly aware of my very short shorts and tight tank top. I cross my arms over my chest to cover my breasts.

  I turn pink again and want to kick him square in the testicles a few times. Maybe he’ll even let me if I say that’s my kink.

  “I was reading, okay? And I plan on going back to reading when you’re gone. Then I was going to cook dinner and go to bed early so I can get up when it’s still a reasonable temperature outside and get some work done.”

  “Exciting.” He tilts one of the glasses from side to side, swirling the wine. “Have a drink.”

  I sigh and rub my temples. He’s not going anywhere and there’s nothing I can do about it right now. I can scream and fight all I want but Kellen Hayle does whatever he chooses whenever he chooses and the rest of us mere mortals have to accept it.

  “One drink and then you’re gone.” I point at the door. “Understood?”

  “Deal.”

  I accept the glass and consider chugging it down, but that’ll only make me a little tipsy and I don’t want to lose any of my faculties right now, not with Kellen looking at me like he’s not sure if he wants to smash me in the face with a hammer or if he wants to rip my clothes off and ravish my body.

  It’s extremely confusing because I’m not sure which I want either.

  I turn away and sit at the table. He lingers, sipping his wine, leaning against my counter.

  “I spoke with the family lawyer today,” he says quietly and I’m guessing that’s the reason he decided to visit me.

  “Learn anything interesting?”