The Monster: A Mafia Romance (Boston Belles Book 3)

“Do you think he is okay? Should we call the police?” My mother tore her croissant into miniscule pieces on her flowery plate, demolishing the poor pastry. “Does my hair look okay?”

I sat across the table from her, staring into my oatmeal like it had wronged me in some profound way. I didn’t want Athair to deal with Sam by himself, but he had insisted, and considering the fact he was the main victim of Sam’s vicious plan—a plan that I followed closely without telling anyone from my family—I tended to agree with him.

Besides, there was nothing I could possibly say to Sam that I hadn’t already.

I confessed my love to him, gave him my body, offered him my soul, sought him out over and over again.

I needed to gather whatever was left of my pride and move on with my life.

“Da will be fine,” I said unconvincingly, taking a sip of my pulpy, freshly-squeezed orange juice. “And your hair looks great.”

“What if he kills him?” Mother slapped a hand to her chest. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all you did for us, uncovering all this, Aisling, but maybe this should’ve been handled by the police.”

“Samuel Brennan would have slaughtered Da if he brought police officers into his club, and you and I both know it.”

Mother’s fingers strummed over her Swarovski necklace, letting out something between a wail and a moan. The door behind my back swung open. I didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. My father stalked inside, his steps heavy and wobbly. It was the first time he’d seen my mother in weeks.

After my idea to set Barbara as a trap for Sam and put our plan into motion, I had gotten my parents to talk a little on the phone but couldn’t get them to meet in person. They were both still wary of one another, even when I clearly established the only dirty player in this whole situation was Sam.

“Hello, Jane.” Da stopped cold to take in my mother.

They’d both lost so much weight and vitality over the last weeks, it was almost like looking at their ghosts.

It hit me like a brick just then. How love was like Lady Masquerade. It could take on many faces. My parents cheated on each other. They lied, backstabbed one another, and failed to communicate with each other. Still, they couldn’t bear to be apart.

They loved each other in their own backward way, and maybe love wasn’t a beautiful thing, after all. Most things in life weren’t.

Mother stood up. They both stared at each other, neither of them wanting to say anything to ruin this precious, fragile moment.

“You look well,” Da said finally.

Mother pressed her palm against her cheek, actually blushing.

“Liar. I look awful. So do you.”

“I feel awful, too. You were at the hospital.”

“I was.”

“I missed you,” he said.

She motioned to the dining table laden with pastries, oatmeal, and fresh fruit.

“Join us for breakfast?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He slipped into his usual seat, piling pastries onto a plate.

I didn’t ask him how it went with Sam. His appetite alone told me everything I needed to know. My worst fears and suspicions about my personal monster had turned out to be true.

He almost ruined my family. Almost, because I wouldn’t let him.

But he’d intended to do that nonetheless.

I took another sip of my orange juice, studying Da.

Finally, he whipped his head to look at me.

“You were right, Aisling.” He put a butter knife streaked with marmalade on the side of his plate. “It was him. The cufflinks. The poisoning. The pictures. Barbara, obviously.”

My heart hurt so much it felt like he ripped it straight out of my chest, breaking a few ribs in the process.

Why, Sam, why?

“Why?” Mother asked tentatively, echoing my thoughts. Da turned to look at her.

“I’ll tell you in a little bit, my sweet, when Aisling leaves for work. I’ll give you the truth. Nothing but the truth. I swear. But first, I want to tell you something.” Da turned back to me.

Smiling and trying my best to appear calm, I waited for more.

“I was wrong in forcing you and Samuel apart. I thought I was doing you a favor. To be honest, I still think I did. Your brothers and I knew you liked him from the moment you saw him, and we wanted someone better for you. You deserved nothing but the best. But if what you want is less than the best, if your heart desires Sam…” he took a deep breath, as if he was about to rip a Band-Aid “…you have my permission to be with him, honey. I will not stand in your way, and I will not pay Sam an extra fee not to touch you. You are free to do as you please. Frankly, it’s been a long time coming, considering you are showing signs of being the smartest person in the family.”

I waited to feel all the feelings I thought I’d associate with this speech.

Relief, happiness, and elation.

But all I could feel was the bitter taste of irony exploding in my mouth.

Because Da’s acceptance of my relationship with Sam was too little too late.

Sam would never be mine. He’d made that perfectly clear. Even if he was open to some sort of a relationship, he wouldn’t offer me love, and I wasn’t going to back down from my demand—it was all or nothing.

Besides, what kind of woman was idiotic enough to be with a man who wished to see her family burn?

Standing up, I excused myself, curtsying like Ms. B had taught me, and gave them the one-on-one time they needed.

“That is very nice of you, Athair, and I appreciate you finally seeing the error in your ways, but I’m afraid it doesn’t matter anymore. I will not be touching Sam, dead or alive. Have a great morning.” I grabbed my coat and dashed out to the freezing cold of winter.

To the lonely arms of heartbreak.

Later that evening, when I came back home, Sailor, Belle, and Persy were waiting for me in my room. They were wearing Christmas-themed pajamas. An unholy amount of takeout food and wine was sprawled on my bed, stinking up the place.

Merde. Christmas was only a few days away. How did it slip my mind?

We hadn’t made any plans together, so I was caught off-guard by the spontaneous meet-up, but after a long day at work, I couldn’t exactly be mad at them for providing a much-needed distraction.

“Hi?” I dropped my backpack, scanning the three of them huddled in my bed like kids, watching It’s a Wonderful Life, stuffing their faces with maple-covered popcorn.

“Hey, girl! We brought Vietnamese.” Persy drummed chopsticks over takeout boxes, wiggling her brows.

“And good spirits,” Sailor added, showing me exactly what she meant by waving around a bottle of gin. I laughed.

“And sexual innuendos,” Belle murmured around a mouthful of popcorn. “But first take a shower and join us in a pre-Christmas celebration. These bitches didn’t chain their husbands to their babies’ cribs for nothing.” She tossed a matching pajama set my way, and I noticed there was a red lettering on the green PJ’s: 69% Nice.

I scurried to the bathroom and enjoyed a quick but steaming hot shower. When I got out, they were already settling all the food on the floor, including plates and utensils. Belle cracked open a bottle of champagne, leaving the gin unopened behind her back. I frowned.

“Are we celebrating something? Did you finally sell Madame Mayhem?”

Belle was the owner of a nightclub, much different than the one Sam was running. Recently, though, she wanted to sell it and soul-search across the globe. Travel. See things. Taste things. She always went against the grain, always did things her way—independently. Belle shook her head.

“This has nothing to do with me.”

“What’s going on?” I looked between them. I had an inkling I was being ambushed, and after the morning I had today—after giving up on my dream of being with Sam once and for all—I was in no mood to receive a lecture.

Belle sighed, tossing her blonde hair over one shoulder.

“I should’ve been more observant, that’s what happened. I’m so sorry. This week, the penny finally dropped. Halloween night at Badlands when I left you alone there. Then Sam asking Sailor for your number. The way the two of you disappeared at Thanksgiving around the same time …” she trailed off.

“Look, Aisling, we know,” Sailor said gravely.

We hadn’t exactly disappeared at the same time. Sam had tailed me without my knowledge. I blinked, waiting for the other shoe to drop. How much did they really know? I was always careful not to tell my friends anything about what went on with Sam. I knew how unlikely it was that something real would grow out of it, and didn’t want to be judged. More than I already was anyway.

“You’re having an affair with him,” Sailor said flatly. “With my brother. Sam Brennan. Underboss extraordinaire. The most ruthless man in Boston. I should have known. He’d always refused to talk about you, but recently, he’s become almost touchy every time your name comes up.”

Touchy? I wanted to laugh. Surely not. He didn’t care. He’d made that abundantly clear.

“No,” I said flatly, relieved that they didn’t know more. “I’m not having an affair with Sam Brennan.”

“Do sit down,” Persy requested, patting a spot on the carpet next to her. “And you don’t need to lie to us. It’s okay. God knows I did my fair share of chasing after Cillian when we first started out.” She sighed wistfully.

“It’s not the same. Cillian hounded you then forced you into marriage. The grain of want was always there. You helped it bloom into a magnificent garden, but he was a willing participant all throughout,” Belle pointed out, dumping a mass of noodles, beef, and vegetables onto a plate then handing it over to me. “We’re not going to sugarcoat it, Ash. We’re worried about you. Sam Brennan is a more-than-you-can-chew type of guy.”

“We also have something to tell you.” Sailor bit her lower lip, looking downward at her food. I sank to the carpet next to Persy, my eyes drifting among all of them as the pit in my stomach grew deeper and darker, as if bracing myself for the pain that was about to come.

“Something we probably should have said to you a long time ago,” Persy added, slurping a noodle between her pink Cupid lips.

Oh, merde. I couldn’t possibly handle any more bad news or sensational revelations today. Already, I felt like my heart was in my throat, ready to be puked out any minute now.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The evening we’d met you…” Sailor cleared her throat, amending as she chewed on her broccoli “…remember when we all made a pact that we would only marry for love? Not for money, not for power, not for fame, and not because it seemed like the safe thing to do. We only have eighty or so years on this planet, and it would be foolish to spend them with someone less than phenomenal. Well, it was your idea, which was why we thought it would be unfair to try to persuade you to stop pining after Sam. After all, you were going after your own heart. Doing as you preach. But … we had talks, Ash. And we all think that bet was not thought-through. Sometimes … well, sometimes it’s not so bad to let go.” Sailor nibbled on the broccoli nervously.

I did my best not to laugh at that. They had lengthy conversations about my obsession with Sam. Behind my back. I always knew that Sailor, Emmabelle, and Persephone were one unit, and I was an addition. A bonus epilogue to an already perfectly finished book. They’d all met at elementary school, while I’d been added to their girl-gang when I was seventeen. By then, they were best friends for a very long time and ticked off all the milestones together: first period, first kiss, first guy, first love, first heartbreak. Emmabelle and Persephone were sisters, with Belle being the oldest. And Sailor? Sailor was like Persy’s twin.

They didn’t tell me about the pact because they didn’t think to include me in it.

“And I love Sam with all my heart,” Sailor continued, “I mean, how could I not? He is my big brother, the boy who shooed the monsters away when I was a kid before becoming one himself. But I would never live with myself if I don’t get this out of my system. Sam is incapable of love, Ash. And I think it is time for you to move on. You cannot marry for love if you marry him because he is not the loving kind.”

“Not to mention, Sam doesn’t want to get married. He says that all the time. Boasts about it, too,” Persy pointed out heatedly, and I knew their hearts were in the right place, but I so didn’t need to hear this right now.

“I’m not having an affair,” I repeated again, dully though my body temperature climbed up steadily. They were patronizing me. Again.

“Honey, I’m not saying you can’t screw him out of your system a few more times.” Belle threw her arms around my shoulders, pressing me close in a hug. My plate nearly tipped over, some of its contents spilling on the carpet. “Just make sure you know he is not your forever. You’re a romantic one, like Persy.”

“Yeah. Just guard your heart.” Sailor smiled awkwardly. “You know? Because love—”

“Yes, I know,” I bit out, pulling back from Belle. “Love is not something your brother has to offer. So you’ve mentioned. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I repeat for the third time that I’m not sleeping with him?”

Technically speaking, I wasn’t. I had in the past, but I ended things, coming to the same conclusion they did—a decade after giving him my heart on a monster ride.

Belle gave me a pitying look. “Oh, honey.”

That was it.

I snapped.

Jumped to my feet, sending my plate in the air.

“Let me get this straight, you staged a whole intervention because you thought I was having an affair with Sam and couldn’t handle him?” I laughed incredulously, my teeth clenching with anger.

Sailor winced. “I wouldn’t say can’t handle …”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, willing myself to take a big, cleansing breath.

In. Out. That’s it.

Nope. It didn’t work.

“All right, let’s see about your green, green grass, shall we?” I opened my arms theatrically, making a show of it. “Starting with you, the almighty Sailor, the first of us to get married. May I remind you your relationship started when you were Hunter’s babysitter? Because that totally happened. You were in charge of keeping him in line because his dick was not to be left unsupervised for longer than five minutes. I’ve met toddlers with more self-control than Hunter’s junk before he met you; he was hardly marriage material. That didn’t stop you from jumping into commitment with him. And you …” I turned to Persy, who shrank into herself visibly.

She was the least judgmental out of my friends, but she wasn’t lily white or guiltless. “You were literally bought by my brother, like cattle. Actually, scratch that, he conducts more research before he buys a steer. He’d treated you horribly for months. You broke him the way you break an unruly horse. Through trials and tribulations. You should know better than anyone that the most stubborn mares make the best riding mates once you tame them. And, of course, there is you, Belle …” I turned to Belle, smiling at her sweetly.

Out of all of our friends, Belle and I were the most unlikely pair and also the closest. Probably because we were the only two still single.

“You cannot even spell the word ‘relationship,’ let alone make one work. You are scared to death of love, for whatever reason, and have never once let anyone into your heart since I’ve known you. Who are you guys to tell me where my relationship—or lack of it—is going? You know better than anyone bumpy starts don’t guarantee a terrible journey. In fact, the paths with the best scenery are the ones where you have to go through the mud.”

By the time I was done, I was panting and sweating under the flannel pajamas.

I lost all appetite for the takeout, and even the Christmas movie binge session seemed unappealing. “I would like you to leave now…” I folded my arms over my chest, shifting my weight from foot to foot “…please.”

Persy was the first to oblige. She smoothed her jammies, her eyes filled to the brim with tears. “You’re right,” she whispered. “We have no idea what goes on between you and Sam. In our quest to try to protect you, we’ve been pushing you around, belittling you.” She looked around for support and found it from Sailor and Belle, who nodded, shuffling up to their feet also.

“Reforming bad men seems to be the theme of our girl-gang.” Sailor smiled crookedly, and in that moment, I could swear that even though they didn’t share DNA, she was all Sam. Same mannerisms and lopsided smile. “So I’m really not sure why we’re even worried about you.”

“You also happen to be annoyingly right.” Belle rolled her eyes with a huff. “We all have our ten-ton baggage. Our dark fears. The things that made us who we are today. So what if you’re a one-man woman? At least that man can wear the heck out of a pea coat, is tall as fuck, and richer than sin.”

“Let’s start this again,” Sailor said tentatively. “This time without the judge fest. Ash, would you like to spend an evening together? Just eating junk, getting drunk, watching TV, and sharing tea that has nothing to do with the hot liquid?”

I smiled softly, feeling like a stone had been lifted from my heart, and it was my friends that had pushed it off through teamwork.

“I’d like that, thank you.”

And just like that, I knew I would no longer get shit for whatever happened or didn’t happen with Sam.