Unholy Union Read online

  Contents

  Unholy Union

  Copyright 2019 Rumer Raines

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Isabella

  Matteo

  Epilogue

  Dear Readers,

  Unholy Union

  By

  Rumer Raines

  Copyright 2019 Rumer Raines

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Matteo

  Who made the silly rule that marriage should involve love? I tried it, and it made me one thing… WEAK.

  It started out as a marriage for my convenience. ’til death do us part has a different meaning in my world. This is the Mafia; we don’t do love stories. She should be only a means to an end. But I need my cock to get on the same damn page as my head. She is a distraction I don’t need or want. My problem is, now, I want her.

  Money and power can buy everything except happiness. I have everything a man could want, but I thirst for the one thing I have never had. I should have never agreed to this. I should have found a different way out. Now, I am at the mercy of the one person I thought I could trust the most. Do you want to know how I got myself into this shit?

  Here is how it all began… The beginning of my downfall.

  We have business associates who are starting to smell blood. When you work with killers, having others sniffing around is the last thing you want. My father lost a lot for this business; I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it stays in our name.

  After my father’s stroke, he started crying all the time. He cries about everything: sentimental commercials, pop songs on the radio, and his inner demons. The man is my hero, my God. It is hard to watch him slowly deteriorate from the man I used to know. The powerful Michael Stone who could destroy a life with one phone call. Now, he is forced to sit in a chair and only has the use of his left side. With all the money in the world, this is the one situation that he can’t fix. I hate it.

  Helping Paolo move him into bed, I can see the tears start to form in his eyes. Paolo wipes them away, and I glance at the framed picture of my mother on the nightstand. She was beautiful, innocent, and I believe one of the demons my father cries about. Paolo and I were young kids when she was murdered, and my father took on the role of both parents.

  Who plans to be the mother and father to small kids? Michael Stone didn’t have a nurturing bone in his body.

  I can still hear the explosion when I close my eyes. I can still see the fear on Paolo’s face and my father running toward the front door screaming my mother’s name. She was going out for drinks with a few of her girlfriends but decided to drive my father’s car instead of her own. They had no idea there was a bomb planted that would end her life instead of his.

  That day changed everything for the three of us. He quickly decided he would toughen Paolo and me up.

  Those would be the last tears that we shed. That was the moment I became the man I am today.

  My family didn’t believe in law enforcement. We handle shit among ourselves, and it’s never been pretty when we’ve had to. My father took it upon himself to hunt down her killer.

  I didn’t cry when he found the man responsible for her death. I also didn’t cry when I watched my father murder that man in front of us. That man apologized to us for taking our mother from us. He didn’t do it voluntarily, but with a pistol pointed at the back of his head. It was the first time I truly saw who my father is. I found out who I was meant to be.

  “I think it’s time for me to go back to the hospital. I can’t keep doing this, Matteo,” Paolo advises.

  “Do whatever you need to do. We can hire someone to babysit him during the day.”

  Paolo frowns, and I see the disgust in his face. Shit… wrong choice of words. Out of the three of us, he is the most sensitive.

  “Do you have to say babysit? It makes him sound like he isn’t even a man anymore.”

  Shame spirals through me at the thought. The last thing I want to portray is that he is anything less than the great Michael Stone. He is slowing down but still just as dangerous. I can’t be paid enough to consider crossing him.

  “Sorry. Why don’t you go? I’ll stay here tonight,” I tell him.

  “Are you sure? Sarah isn’t expecting you?” I hear the disgust in his voice.

  Neither my father or brother like the woman I am involved with. I admit you don’t start off liking her; she has to grow on you. Ironically, she never grew on either of them. Paolo puts up with her, but my father doesn’t even try.

  “I’ll let her know I’m giving you the night off. She’ll understand.”

  Paolo’s eyebrows rise. “Sarah will understand?” he teases.

  “Just get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

  There are certain forbidden words in every household. Sarah is a name that can always get a rise out of my father. He thinks she is a money hungry whore; at least, that is what he would call her. It wouldn’t matter if she was standing next to me, he would still say it.

  It stings to say her name as he lies in this bed without even flinching.

  After Paolo leaves, I walk back into the bedroom where my father stares heavenward. He tilts his head and stares at me as I sit in the chair across from the bed.

  “Did you want to watch TV?” I ask.

  “Mat... Mat... eo,” he slurs.

  “What is it? Do you need water?”

  I will wait all night to find out what he needs. It doesn’t matter how long it takes him to say it. His eyelids sag, and his eyes follow me as I walk to grab a glass.

  “Don’t… make… same… mistakes.” His eyes glisten.

  I have no idea what mistakes he is talking about, but I know I won’t get an answer from him when I watch him close his eyes. When my phone rings, I walk into the hall to answer.

  “What is it?” I growl.

  “There will be a delivery tomorrow at nine.”

  “Sounds good. Make sure you are the only one to walk out.”

  I have been temporarily running the business while my father is unable. Suspicion is getting high from our associates. They don’t like taking orders from me. They want to talk to the Don, and that isn’t possible right now.

  My father is a mastermind at picking the best henchmen that money can buy. Loyalty is the only requirement in this business. If you aren’t loyal, you are useless. My father’s blue eyes are the last thing many people see. I was groomed for this shit. I crave it and need it like most people need air.

  This business is the only thing I need. It’s my priority.

  With my father o
ut of commission, I am the one who decides who lives and dies.

  It is only natural that I took over the business when he had the stroke. Paolo wants no part of it. He is a Chicago surgeon and loves what he does. I think he is more like our mother, and I am truly my father’s son. I am a trained monster. The first time I witnessed a murder, I liked it. I need that power like I need oxygen.

  I am Matteo Stone, and I will be the Don.

  Chicago is my city. I own it and everything in it. At least, I will when I inherit it from my father.

  Isabella

  “Morning… How can I help you today?” I ask the elderly man while he pulls out a chair.

  “I would like to open the fifteen-month money market,” he informs me with a stern look. He’s dressed in what I know has to be a really expensive charcoal-colored suit, his jacket button opened to reveal a fancy tie and the gold pen sticking out from his shirt pocket.

  “Really? Are you sure? We don’t have the most competitive rates.”

  “Yes. I have banked here for years and would never take my business anywhere else.”

  “That’s really nice of you. However, there is a bank right down the street that has a higher interest rate.”

  “Nope… I would like your money market please.”

  I wish I could change his mind, but I can’t. I pull out the paperwork and have him fill out the required forms. I can’t believe this is how my life has turned out. I am pissed that this man is opening a money market with me instead of doing business with the competition. Loyalty is wonderful, but at what price?

  There are days when I feel loyalty is overrated. I feel like I am stuck in this dull, useless life because of loyalty. I deserve so much more, but I will never go after it because of loyalty. I will stay with this bank until I retire. They gave me the job, and they expect loyalty.

  How did my life turn out this way? Stuck working at the bank with no kids or husband at home. I did exactly what I was told I should do. I went to college and found the perfect job working at the big city bank. Why do I feel so unfulfilled? Why are all my friends married with kids, and I go home where no one is waiting for me? Simone is my only single friend with no kids, but she has the perfect boyfriend.

  I find myself daydreaming about my missed opportunities when he clears his throat. Damn it… I should have been making small talk instead of thinking about myself. After opening the account, I feel like I just did this man an injustice. I guess injustice is a way of life.

  It’s a busy day at the bank as customers wander in and out. I open several accounts, and at this point, I have stopped making suggestions. These customers are loyal. It wouldn’t matter what I advise.

  As another customer walks out of my office, there is screaming at the teller window.

  The snooty blonde bitch is at it again. She struts in like she owns the place. The bank is in downtown Chicago, so we are used to customers with money, but this one has the worst attitude. It doesn’t help that she is friends with the bank president.

  “Hey, you,” Simone whispers

  I was so preoccupied that I didn’t notice my best friend had come in. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face to show off the new necklace her boyfriend gifted her last weekend.

  “Hey.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  “Oh… the normal shit. Bitchy customer and crying teller.”

  “That sucks. If I have said it once, I have said it a million times. Bank tellers are underpaid and underappreciated.” Simone scowls.

  I was a teller when I first started working here, and Simone’s correct. Tellers deal with bad attitudes from customers and co-workers. I thought I was moving up the ladder when I took this job. I was very wrong and wish I had moved out instead of up.

  “How about having dinner with me and Jake?” Simone offers.

  “I think I have gone to dinner enough this week with you and Jake.”

  “What could be better than me spending the evening with my best friend and boyfriend?”

  Simone will never understand, but I feel like a third wheel. I love that she has Jake, but it’s starting to sting a little. He is attractive, has a good job, and spoils her rotten. And, he will never say anything about me tagging along. I wish I had my own man to take me out to dinner. Will it ever be me?

  Simone has tried to set me up with a few guys from her office. They just don’t do anything for me. I have no interest in the Corporate America man. They always seem to wear khakis and polos and have a degree in ass kissing.

  I need a take charge man that gives the orders and doesn’t take them. It also wouldn’t hurt if he had money. I am not a gold digger, but can’t a girl be taken care of? There are nights when being an independent woman is overrated, I don’t care what the song says.

  “Are we good for tonight?” Simone begs.

  I nod. What else do I have to do tonight?

  Jake picks us both up, and we head to the new Asian restaurant that is downtown. I watch as Simone and Jake feed each other. When she realizes that I am still here, she giggles and pulls away from him. Yep… I am the unneeded third wheel.

  “Guess what!”

  “What?” I murmur.

  “There Is an open position in my department. I think you should apply for it!”

  “Oh, God, no,” I reply.

  “Why not?”

  “Simone… you’re my best friend. The best way to ruin our friendship is to work together.”

  “Hold up.” She lifts her hand to stop me from continuing.

  “Babe, she’s right. Not a good idea.” Jake agrees with me.

  “Why is it such a bad idea? You will make twice as much as you do working at the bank.”

  “Let me think about it,” I finally acquiesce.

  Jake’s eyes meet mine, and I know he sees the truth. I won’t be thinking about it. I love Simone like a sister, but working together would be trouble. Do I need more money? Who doesn’t? It’s just not worth losing my best friend.

  After forcing down whatever Jake orders for us, he drives us home. Simone talks about the company benefits and tries to sell me on applying for the job. She is almost convincing, but not enough. Jake stops in front of my condo and walks me to the door.

  “Sorry about that,” he whispers.

  I glance back and Simone is waving at me. “No worries. She only wants what is best for me.”

  “True… but only you will ever know what’s best for you.”

  He’s right. I only know what is best. Why do I feel that I only chose the opposite?

  Matteo

  “I should warn you that Dad has company,” Paolo tells me when I walk back into the house.

  Fuck… did Paolo let one of the other families in?

  “Who’s in there with him?” I ask.

  “His attorney.”

  I walk past Paolo to climb the steps, but he blocks me before I enter the bedroom.

  “There is something else I need to tell you.” His brows draw together in an agonized expression.

  “What?” I grit my teeth.

  “He had another stroke.”

  “What the fuck? Why didn’t anyone call me?” I grab his shirt with my fist. This shouldn’t be the first I’m hearing about this.

  “I did call. It went straight to voicemail, so I assumed you were handling business.”

  I spread my hands regretfully and shrug. I fucked up. I took Sarah away for an overnight trip while my family needs me. I let a night of sex and booze distract me from what was important. What was I thinking?

  “How is he?” I ask.

  “It’s not good, Matteo. Just be prepared when you go in and see him.”

  “Prepared for what? He’s going to make it, isn’t he?” I can hear the fear and disgust in my voice.

  “I think it’s only a matter of time.” Paolo looks at the floor, clearly uncomfortable.

  I don’t know if I can do this. I must go in and face what I don’t want to see. I can feel Paolo’s eyes on
me. I can’t turn back now. He is waiting for me to react. He depends on me. He expects me to be the strong one. I have made calls to end lives, so this should be no big deal.

  Why do I feel like I am about to drop to my knees and cry?

  Death is a part of life. I encourage myself to push open the door and walk inside. It’s time to man the fuck up, Matteo. Don’t let him see you weak.

  My hand stops before it reaches the doorknob. My chest suddenly feels heavy, and it’s hard to breathe. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before pushing the door open.

  My father is lying on the bed, his face pale. He appears to have aged ten years overnight. There are tubes coming from his nose and mouth, and his eyes are closed. I glance at his chest to make sure he is still breathing. Thankfully, he is.

  The attorney walks over to extend his hand. I look at him and back at my father. Bastard shows up with paperwork before my father has even taken his last breath.

  “Why are you here?” I ask.

  He looks at me and back to my brother. “He asked me to come.”

  I smirk as I walk toward the bed. “He asked you to come?”

  “Yes… he wants to make his final arrangements. He is a very rich man.”

  I quirk my eyebrow questioningly. “That’s strange. We already discussed the arrangements. I’ll take over the family business and run it as it has always been run. I guess you’re getting paid for nothing.”

  He looks past me and at Paolo with a strange look on his face. “Actually, there have been new terms added.”

  “What kind of new terms?” I ask.

  Paolo takes a deep breath and walks past me toward my father. “You might want to sit down, Matteo.”

  “No… I’ll stand. Tell me the damn terms,” I manage to reply through stiff lips.

  I think I see a satanic smile spread across his thin lips as he pulls out the yellow folder.

  “Your father has decided that Paolo will take over the business until his terms are met.”

  “What the hell? Paolo wants nothing to do with this business. Do you?” I turn to ask Paolo.