Page 28 of Alexei (Belles & Mobsters 4)

The sun was slowly setting, and the lights already covered the large patio area. The hot July breeze swept across the yard, and I was glad we’d be mostly outside. Bella was quick to pick up that I preferred it hot. I never even turned on the A/C in my own place. It only froze my bones and brought the memories of cold basements back.

Yeah, fuck that.

As I turned the corner, I found everyone there. Vasili, Sasha, Nico Morrelli, and Raphael Santos all stood together on the left side of the lawn while the women gathered on the right side of the patio. By the looks of it, the men had a lively discussion going. Nico had one of his boys on his shoulders, the little guy gripping his dad’s hair with his small, chubby hands. If Nico wasn’t careful, he’d end up with a big bald spot on his skull.

Vasili held his newborn girl who was fussing, probably due to her colic. Yeah, I knew too much about babies. I blamed it all on Isabella who insisted on telling me everything. Thank God she didn’t share details of her sex life with me. Raphael, Isabella’s other half-brother, had our two-year-old nephew on his shoulders. Little Nikola loved danger and giggled each time Raphael pretended to almost drop him. I feared that little devil might become just like Sasha who at this very moment looked bored to fucking death. He lifted his wrist watch as if he was counting down to his exit.

My eyes darted to the right side where Tatiana, Isabella, Nico’s mother, and Bianca sat chatting and laughing. Bianca held her other twin boy in her arms, while her blonde twins stood at the little playground in serious discussion, probably contemplating how to steal someone’s car, jewelry, or stash of money.

Those two would be trouble, and with Luciano’s son on their team, they might end up running the underworld. As if they sensed my thoughts, an identical set of blue eyes met mine and up-to-no-good grins spread across their small faces.

God help Nico when those two turned into teenagers.

“Hey Uncle Alexei,” they both greeted me, running over to me.

Everyone’s eyes shifted my way and I nodded my greeting. Hannah pulled on my pant leg. I lowered down so the twins didn’t have to crane their necks to look at me. For some reason, they decided to call me uncle and never felt uncomfortable around me.

Unlike their mother who always hesitated a bit. Not that I blamed her. She had good instincts. After the incident with her mother, she relaxed more around me, but she always kept herself guarded.

“Hey,” I greeted both twins. Arianna pulled on my hand, urging me to lean closer.

“Want to know a secret?” she whispered.

“But you have to pay up first,” Hannah added.

I cocked my eyebrow and Arianna, who was usually the shy one, offered an apologetic smile. “We need the money,” she explained.

Nico was one of the richest men in the country. I was certain he gave them whatever they wanted.

“For?” I inquired curiously.

“To buy tools,” Hannah explained. As if on cue, both of them glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. “We are going to break into Dad’s safe.”

Their eyes twinkled mischievously, extremely pleased with themselves. My lip twitched again. Definitely double trouble right here.

“In that case, give me the secret, and I’ll give you the money.” The girls were turning six soon, and already contemplated robbing their father. It was only right I supported them.

“How much?” Arianna whispered.

“How much do you want?” I asked.

“I didn’t know you could say so many words,” Hannah remarked. She was right, I usually kept my answers short.

“In a row,” Arianna added.

“Want the money or not?” I challenged them, amused. Their eyes darted between each other and me while my mind filtered through the memory of the day my vocal cords were crushed.

Images flashing like a silent 20s film.

The calloused palm wrapped around my neck, gripping it so hard black dots swam in my vision.

I refused to give up, so I fought him, but his grip tightened. I’d be damned if I’d take death willingly. Yes, there had been nights I craved it, but now, when it came down to it, I wanted to fucking live.

Or maybe it was that I refused to let this asshole be the one to finally take me out.

I fought him. Letting my anger fuel my movements, I dug my fingers into his hand, clawing into his flesh. I’d rip it off his fucking bones if he didn’t let up.

The devil grinned, his teeth rotten from all the fucking candy he liked to eat. Sweet treats given to those that obeyed and worshiped the man that held us captive or used as a method to torture those of us that refused. Having melted chocolate forced down your throat in some twisted form of waterboarding by a psychotic Willy Wonka would turn anyone off it.

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