How can things you only glimpse for a moment sear themselves into your memory?
~Alessandra, Mobster’s Bones
Alessandra has a problem. It's not that the Mafia is the only life she knows, her father and best friend being members.
She's being followed. Her stalker destroys the one thing Alessandra thought they could never touch. She's now forced to flee the only home she's known, Palmetto.
How can someone be so beautiful? The morning sunlight is coming through the blinds on my window casting a glow around Alessandra. She has been here for a week, and we have fallen into a routine. It is sort of like she has always been here. Imagining her leaving, gives me an unwanted stone in my stomach.
~ Troy, Mobster’s Bones
Troy has his life planned out perfectly; graduate from Notre Dame with honors, get married, live a quiet life with his wife and kids in the suburbs. Just like his parents and their parents before them.
Things don’t work out according to plan - the scaffolding of his life is crumbling before his eyes. Troy’s plans didn’t include the daughter of a mob enforcer showing up at his door and sleeping in his bed. Are Alessandra and her mafia family worth throwing away the life Troy has always wanted?
This book can stand alone or be read as Book 5 in the Mobster Series.
(Book 1 is Mobster’s Girl)
Mobster Romance (Organized Crime Romance)#mobsterfiction
“Bros before hos, O’Connell!”
Searing fury creeps up my chest, and I want to fucking punch him again.
Wide-eyed, I stomp forward, reeling, my nostrils flaring. How dare he call Alessandra a whore!
Fingertips wrap around my arm.
“Don’t. It’s not worth it.” Alessandra’s eyes are glossed over because of the beer she has been consuming too fast. She has filled her cup again by the time Kurt has made it across the room to us. Everyone has stopped their conversations. All eyes are on us.
“You know. I think it is.”
I lunge at Kurt and we fall in a tumble of arms and legs. I haven’t been this angry in a very long time. Hurting him is on the forefront of my mind.
Getting the upper hand, I’m above him. He’s splayed on the ground below me and I let my fist fly, smashing against his nose. Immediately, it bleeds, sending red liquid down into his mouth and all over his neck seeping into his shirt.
“Shit!” he screams. “You broke my fuckin’ nose!”
Movement out of the corner of my eye grabs my attention. Standing above the both of us is Alessandra. Her cup is tipping up to her lips for a drink while her eyes glare down at the two of us. Her expression isn’t surprised or horrified; it’s bored, like she’s seen this kind of thing a million times.
The entire party has encircled us at a very safe distance. My focus returns and I calm down. I peer around because I sense a slew of eyes gawking at me. It’s quiet; even the music is turned off. I’m one of those guys!
I have crossed the line. I have turned into an asshole like Kurt. I am the one stirring the shit, making a scene, making the whole party uncomfortable for everyone. I have done the exact thing that I criticize others for.
“Are you done?” Alessandra is annoyed.
“Troy! What the hell!?”
Jake takes hold of my forearm and hauls me up. Kurt’s hands are plastered to his nose where the blood is gushing out. A blond girl I don’t know hands him a tissue.
The ride back to the dorm is silent. Jake is pissed at me and Alessandra… she doesn’t seem mad or anything but she has a faraway look in her tipsy eyes. We get off the elevator and Jake goes straight to his room. Alessandra and I go to mine. I can’t take the quiet anymore.
“I’m sorry,” I confess.
I toss my keys in the bowl by the door and check my watch. It has barely been two hours since we left. Alessandra is in my mini-fridge taking out a beer.
“Whoa.” I walk to her. “I think you’ve…” Alessandra’s lips crush mine and the can in her fingers hits the floor. She is all over me. I gently pull her arms away. “Hold on a sec.” She easily slips her arms out of my grasp and wraps them back around my neck. She leans in again kissing me. It’s amazing… but wrong. I unwrap her body from mine. “I think we should call it a night.”
Alessandra’s eyes drift open at my words. A mix of emotion is there— hurt, exhaustion, fear. Her arms fall to her sides, seemingly too heavy for her to hold up anymore. Her eyes close and beneath her lashes little tiny tears drop.