Sasha: A Dark Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Sasha: Chapter 17

“I preferred your other place,” I told him as we made our way through the underground garage and towards the elevators. Alessio had owned a penthouse in New York City for as long as I could remember. It was only recently that he acquired a new one.

He released a sardonic breath and put his phone back into his pocket.

“You haven’t even seen it yet,” he remarked dryly. “You can’t judge the entire place by the underground garage.”

My brother looked tired. And tense. It didn’t take a genius to realize why. I saw him leave Autumn’s exhibit earlier.

“What did you think of Autumn’s exhibit?” I asked casually as he keyed in his code, then pushed the button to the top floor. He shrugged, but didn’t answer. I’d bet my life that he bought out all the photos.

“Alessio.” A smooth, deep voice came from behind us and I whirled around, coming face to face with… wow. For a moment, my mind blanked. The man before me was godlike. Thick, wavy, dark brown hair. Eyes the color of the deep blue sea and broad shoulders that filled out his suit.

And his sex appeal. Jesus Christ.

I was certain I could taste it in the air. Hands down, he might have been one of the most good-looking men I had ever met. Not rough and built like Sasha Nikolaev. My brows furrowed at the stupid comparison. Sasha was nothing. This guy was more suave and charismatic.

Yet, my heart didn’t thunder like it did around the psychotic mobster.

“Killian,” my brother greeted him. “Didn’t know you had a place here too.”

His one hand pushed into his suit pants.

“I don’t use it often.” His eyes came to me, studying me. His face was relaxed, but something sharp flared in his gaze. “Is this your baby sister?”

Did he just-

Oh, no. He did not.

Before Alessio could answer him, I opened my mouth. “First, I’m not little,” I snapped. “And I’m certainly not a baby.”

Amusement glowed in Killian’s eyes. “It’s usually how Alessio describes you. His baby sister.”

My eyebrows rose and I slowly turned to look at my brother. “Seriously?” I quipped, a blush staining my cheeks. I mean, I knew he considered me his baby sister but he couldn’t go around and describe me like that. I was in my mid-twenties for Pete’s sake.

Alessio’s arm came around me. “It’s hard to break the habit. You know I love you.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Yeah, yeah.”

But I did. And without him, my life would have been hell. I loved him more than anything or anyone and I’d love to see him happy. He deserved it.

“Branka, meet Killian Brennan,” Alessio started the introductions. “Killian, my ‘no longer a baby’ sister Branka Russo.”

A pink flush rose on my cheeks. I could feel it warming my face. Killian held out his hand and after a brief hesitation, I took it.

“Nice to meet you, Branka.”

The way he said my name, softly and slowly, like he was savoring the syllables had my face turning crimson. I bet this guy was all seduction. But the intensity in his eyes and the dangerous vibes coming off him didn’t escape me. He hid it and he hid it well.

Unlike Sasha Nikolaev who wore it all out for everyone to see.

I glanced down at where his hand still covered mine. No ink and something in my stupid heart sank.

“Likewise,” I muttered, irritated that I compared this hot specimen of a man to Sasha Nikolaev. Except, that the latter had a disturbing impact on me. Maybe I was certifiable because a scary, psychotic mobster appealed to me more than this suave hottie.

The elevator door dinged open and Alessio nudged me forward, while Killian remained behind. My eyes flickered to the mirror in the elevator, and I caught my brother and Killian sharing a glance. A nod by the latter and as I turned around, Killian’s gaze came back to me.

“See you around, Branka.”

It almost sounded like a promise.

“You’ll have your own code to use when you want to visit,” Alessio told me as the elevator beeped and came to a stop. “Each elevator is private.”

During his college years, Alessio spent a lot of time in New York City. Even afterwards. It made sense that he had a place here. His friends were here. Luciano. Cassio. Nico. Although it made zero sense to get another penthouse.

My brother gestured for me to step out first, and the moment I did, I found myself in a huge living room with sleek, modern furniture. Dark hardwood floors stretched everywhere I could see. My favorite part though was the entire wall on the south side that was made from glass and offered a magnificent view of New York City, overlooking the skyscrapers and the Hudson River.

“Okay, so maybe I spoke too soon,” I murmured as I walked further into the apartment and tilted my head up. Glass banisters gave a view of the upper floor and a large chandelier that hung above our heads.

“I’m glad you approve,” Alessio noted amused.

I shifted my head to replace an open kitchen on the left side of the living area. A massive black marble eat-in table divided the two spaces.

“What did you do with that other penthouse?” I asked him, nearing the windows, to take in the view up close. It was then I noticed there was a terrace here too.

“Why? You want it?” he teased.

I shrugged, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the window.

“If you’re giving it away,” I mused.

His chuckle filled the air. “You can have them both.”

I shifted, tilting my face up to my brother, gauging him. My sixth sense flared up, telling me there was something else Alessio wanted to tell me.

“Why do I get a sense there is something you’re not telling me, Alessio?”

The corners of his lips twitched, but he didn’t smile.

“Because my baby sister is smart.” Anxiety crept up my spine. I kept waiting for him to continue. I knew there’d be a bomb to drop, but wasn’t quite prepared for his next words. “I want to give this to you as your wedding present.” I stared at him, my chest squeezing in a weird way. “It would be your safe haven, a place to go to when you want to be alone.”

“I hate being alone,” I croaked. It wasn’t something I usually openly admitted, but it was time to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Well, at least that one.

He pressed a kiss on my forehead. “I know. But I want you to have a corner just to yourself. To meet your friends. To do whatever you want.”

“So I should come here if my husband beats me?” My voice cracked. I took a deep breath, fear creeping its way through every single pore. All I wanted was to not fear the past ghosts. To be strong.

“Any man lays a finger on you and they’ll be dead before they lift it off your body.” Alessio’s voice was hoarse, tension rolling through him.

“You might have never had the talk with me, Alessio,” I said. “But I hate to tell you, my husband will have to touch me.”

“Please don’t remind me,” he grumbled and a corner of his lips lifted. “Please let me give you this as your wedding present.”

I swallowed as a tremor started in my hands.

“Why a wedding present?” I choked out, my voice strange to my own ears. It didn’t reflect the turmoil currently inside me. “You could give it to me as a Christmas gift or something.”

Alessio took my face between his hands, his eyes clashing with mine. There were so many shades of gray in his gaze, and I knew mine reflected the same. It was the only physical resemblance we shared. That and the scars we both hid.

“I want to keep you safe.”

I gulped. “You are.” I put my palms over his hands and squeezed. “I’m not fragile. I’m stronger than you give me credit for.”

A sardonic breath left him. “I know, my baby sister. But I also know how ruthless the men in our world are.”

“I have you,” I rasped.

“You’ll always have me.” His voice was slightly anguished. “There are only two things left on this Earth that can break me, baby sister. You and one other person.” Without a doubt, I knew he referred to Autumn. I wished he’d trust me. I wished both he and Autumn would come clean and tell me what happened. I wanted to help them, see them happy. “But if shit happens to me, I’d never forgive myself for leaving you open and vulnerable. A marriage would secure your protection.”

“It didn’t work for Mother,” I pointed out. We all witnessed it. Marriage was the worst thing that could have happened to her. “What if–”

I couldn’t even finish it.

“I’d fucking kill any man who even thinks about hitting you,” he growled. “I meant what I said back at Mia’s grave. I vowed to protect you and I will.”

“Then why this marriage nonsense?” I questioned.

He let go and shoved his hand through his hair.

“I found out about a deal Father made,” he started slowly. “He used you as payment. I’m taking care of it. And him. But the truth is he piled up so many enemies that there’ll always be someone coming for us.”

The lump in my throat grew. “I-I don’t want to get married.”

“You get to pick a man,” he told me. “I’ve gone through the acceptable prospects.”

“They’ll only show you their best side,” I argued.

“Give me some credit,” he retorted dryly. I trusted my brother with my life. I didn’t trust other men with my life. “Nico Morrelli has done a detailed check on all of them. It left me with two prospects.”

I shook my head. “Out of all the men in this world?” I snickered, although my voice shook too much to be effective. “That doesn’t bode well for the rest of the women.”

He didn’t answer.

“I’m not weak,” I attempted again. “I can take care of myself.” He held my gaze and desperation slowly grew. It suffocated, swallowing me into the darkness. The familiar basement that I wanted to set on fire. “If your candidates are so great, why do I need this penthouse? And why in New York?”

He let out a tired sigh and guilt pierced my chest.

“One prospect lives in New York,” he replied. “He actually has a penthouse in this building. The other is closer to home in Montréal.”

I stiffened. The chiseled cheekbones and dark blue eyes, the wrong shade by the way, came to mind.

“Let me guess. Killian Brennan.” Alessio nodded and agitation shot through me. “We ran into him so he can check me out and see if I’m acceptable.” Suddenly, Killian’s good looks dimmed. Just slightly. “So it doesn’t matter to him who I am. Just that I look acceptable.”

“Before you attack him, getting to know you was one of Killian’s requirements,” Alessio jumped to his defense. “And that the choice was yours. He refused to marry you if you’re not onboard with it.”

Killian Brennan might have become my favorite mobster.