Sasha: A Dark Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Sasha: Chapter 25

Three weeks since I dropped Autumn off at the airport.

And I regretted it every goddamn day. Every time I looked into my brother’s eyes, my nephew’s eyes, and every time I saw Autumn’s parents.

Autumn was stuck in Afghanistan. Alive, we hoped. Except ever since the footage showing her getting in front of a gun and another woman, we hadn’t heard a peep.

I watched Byron and Royce Ashford walk out of Alessio’s office with grim expressions on their faces. Byron’s eyes flicked my way and I froze. Byron’s expression reminded me of Alessio and for a moment, I stood, staring after them.

How did I never see the resemblance before? I wondered.

“Wait,” I called out to them, just as they were leaving through the front foyer.

Placing Kol on my hip, I hurried to them, worried they’d get tired of waiting for me. I still couldn’t understand why the powerful Billionaire Kings were helping us. They didn’t need us, unless Alessio was holding something over their heads.

Byron and Royce faced me with lethal grace. The way they carried themselves spoke of power and ruthlessness. Maybe not on the level of Alessio and his friends, but I had no doubt the Billionaire Kings were used to getting their way.

One way or another.

They both waited, neither one of them speaking but their eyes sharp on me.

“Why are you helping us?” I demanded to know.

No answer.

Kol tried to reach out for Byron and Royce with his hands, the little traitor. Both men took one hand each, their big hands surprisingly gentle and their eyes on little Kol. He was good at capturing hearts, just like his Maman.

My throat squeezed and my heart ached. I needed Autumn to make it back safe. For my brother. For me.

“You look a lot like my brother,” I croaked. Byron’s eyes landed on me. He looked like my brother but his eyes were a different color. My gaze flickered to Royce. He had dark eyes, but the resemblance was there. “Why is that?” I demanded to know.

Byron’s cold eyes studied me, probably seeing too much.

“That is something you’ll have to talk to Alessio about, Miss Russo,” he drawled. Byron’s knuckles softly brushed over Kol’s chubby cheeks. “See you later, Kol.”

And just like that, they both left.

Men!

I whirled around and with rushed steps headed for Alessio’s office. He hadn’t stepped foot in his penthouse in downtown Montréal. He considered it his and Autumn’s place. Probably too many memories there for him to handle it.

I found my brother sitting behind his desk, his elbows resting against the wood, his forehead pressed to his hands and his fingers gripping his hair. The vise around my heart squeezed and tears burned the backs of my eyes.

Alessio deserved Autumn. He deserved love and happiness in his life. He deserved a full family.

“Brother,” I rasped, emotions thick in my voice. He lifted his head, heavy fatigue behind his eyes.

“Daddy,” Kol babbled, reaching for him. The love in Alessio’s eyes burned strong for his son. He’d protect his son at the cost of his own life. The volatile look in his eyes promised retribution for anyone who’d dare to think about hurting his son or his woman.

And the unfamiliar feeling creeped through my chest. Longing. The need to be loved.

Alessio leaned back into his chair and I took Kol to sit with his father. He took him and sat him on his lap, reaching into the drawer and pulling out crayons. He had shit ready for Kol in every room. He’d be a good father. He was a good father.

“Daddy,” Kol beamed, grabbing the paper, then crayon. “I draw planes.”

Alessio smiled. “Yeah, buddy. Draw me planes. Big ones.”

Kol’s attention on drawing, Alessio’s eyes returned to me. “You good, Branka?”

I nodded, wrapping my fingers around the wrist that throbbed. The physical scars healed, but I still remembered the pain of the broken wrist.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I lowered myself in the chair across his desk.

“Yes. You?”

It was a stupid question. I could tell he wasn’t okay. But I didn’t know what to say, what to do. I felt helpless.

“I just have to replace a way to bring her home,” he muttered.

I agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly.

“I wish I hadn’t taken her to the airport,” I told him with a heavy sigh.

He picked up a crayon and added something to Kol’s drawing. “And I wish I hadn’t left that morning. It’s not your fault. If you hadn’t, she would have just taken a cab.”

He was right, Autumn would have found another way to the airport, but maybe she would have been late. So many fucking ifs, my head was spinning.

My gaze found my brother’s.

“Alessio, why are the Ashford brothers helping?” I blurted out, unable to hold it back. Silence followed, but deep down I knew the answer.

He leaned back into his seat, tugging on his tie and loosening it. Our eyes held and I could see the answer in his eyes. The evidence stared me in the face, his features so similar to his brothers’.

“They are your brothers,” I stated calmly but jealousy was an ugly green monster that gripped me and refused to let go. I felt like that ten year old girl watching two people I loved most in the world sneak out in the middle of the night, leaving me behind me.

“Half-brothers,” he corrected me, then reached across the table, taking my hand into his. “I should have told you before.”

“How?” I questioned him, scared to ask if we shared a mother or a father. It was stupid what my mind focused on when in anguish.

“Mother got pregnant by Senator Ashford. A corrupt politician, but he’s not as bad as our father.”

“Not as bad as my father, you mean,” I corrected him bitterly.

He squeezed my hand gently. “He made us, but he wasn’t a father. Not to you. Not to Mia. Not to me. He was a sperm donor. Just like Senator Ashford.”

I swallowed. If that was the case, why did I still feel like shit?

“But at least the sperm donor who created you isn’t a sadistic bastard,” I retorted as thick tension permeated the air. Part of me was jealous that he had a way to sever the connection with the man who made our lives hell. “I’m a Russo and that man’s blood runs through my veins.”

A look full of something vehement and dark entered his expression.

“He no longer matters,” my brother claimed. I wasn’t so sure. He left a mark on me, on my brother. He broke part of us. “He lost, we won. His legacy is dead. We live and every laugh from you and our family is another win against him.” When I didn’t respond, he let out a frustrated breath. “I should have taken you with me that night. Mia, you, and I should have left and never looked back.”

My throat tightened. “But we didn’t.” You left me.

It wasn’t fair to put it on him. My brain knew it. My heart knew it.

“I fucked up,” he rasped. “But this is our chance to move on. The last name of Russo ended with that fucker six feet under. Your last name will be Brennan. Fuck, I might just take Autumn’s last name if she’ll have me.”

“She’ll have you,” I told him confidently as a raw wave of warmth flickered in my chest.

“How long have you known, Alessio?” I asked him. “About the Ashfords.”

“For a while,” he admitted. “A few decades.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered. “And you never thought to tell me?”

“It didn’t really matter,” he reasoned. “As far as I was concerned, we didn’t have a father. It was just you, Mia, and me.”

“And now?”

His eyes lowered to Kol, then came up to me. “And now all I care about is our family. You, Autumn, Kol.”

“Daddy, color,” Kol urged and Alessio started coloring again. I watched them together with pride. Alessio never had a father to look up to, but he was a natural. Attentive. Protective. Loving.

He was always protective, more of a parent to Mia and me than our own parents.

“How do the Ashfords play into it?”

He raised his head, never ceasing his coloring. “They want to help.”

I waited, when he said nothing, I prompted, “And?”

“And maybe I could use Senator Ashford’s connections to get into Afghanistan.”

I shot up, straightening in my seat.

“What are you waiting for?” I blurted out. “Make this his payment for not being here for you when he should have,” I told him. “He owes you this.”

“Once we’re connected to him, the world will be watching us. Your wedding might become a circus.”

“So can yours,” I reminded him. I knew my brother and there was no chance in hell that he’d settle for anything less than a ring on Autumn’s finger. “Forget the circus and any repercussions of being connected to a senator. Just do what you need to do to get her back.”

Alessio nodded, a serious expression on his face.

“He has an event in D.C. in a few days, and I’ll go see him.”

“But-” I urged. I knew him enough to know there was more to it.

“I hate the idea of owing him or needing him,” he admitted. “But for her, I’d get down on my knees and beg. I don’t give a shit. As long as we bring her home.”

The volatile and vulnerable look in his eyes just about gutted me.

And suddenly, I feared what was in store for our family if Autumn didn’t make it back home.