Under Control – A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
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“You know how. Your father’s at the center of all this. He sold my mother to Valentin’s father. He kidnapped her and nearly killed her. He made you try to murder your own aunt. We can stop this. You and I.”

He stares at me. His face twitches, and I can tell he’s struggling. His hands curl into fists, and I wonder if he’s going to hit me. I spot Valentin nearby, staring with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable. I’m scared, and I’m worried, but I don’t back down.

And after a long pause, Arsen slowly unclenches. He blows out a breath and cracks his neck to the side, jaw loosening, hands opening back up again.

“If we do this, I’ll need muscle,” he says, looking down at me. “I assume that’s where your husband comes in.”

“I’m sure Valentin will give you what you need.”

“He won’t trust me though.”

“Can you blame him?”

“Not in the slightest, but if he knew what it was like to have a father like Aram Sarkissian, he wouldn’t hesitate to help me.”

I want to put my hand on his arm to reassure him, but I’m pretty sure my jealous and possessive husband will go apeshit and murder Arsen right here and now.

“After your father’s down, it’ll be up to you to handle your family,” I warn him. “They won’t like that you had Russian help.”

“No, they won’t, but many of them will be happy it happened, and the rest will fall into line.” He turns away, expression darkening again. “It’ll be a fight, but it’s a fight worth having.”

“We’re all different sorts of fucked up, you know,” I blurt out, not even sure why I say it.

But Arsen grins at me. “Yeah, I know it. Don’t worry, cousin. Come on, let’s go tell your husband the good news before he has a fucking aneurysm.”

I laugh lightly and follow him back to where Valentin’s waiting, and we start to talk about what comes next.

More blood. More violence. But for once, there might be a new way, a new path forward, and now I hope that Valentin can steer away from the wreck and chart a better course.

Or else this was all for nothing.

Chapter 41

Valentin

Karine doesn’t say much on the drive down to Baltimore. Anton’s in the back keeping contact with the other car of soldiers, but everything’s already been planned ahead of time. At this point, Anton’s just making sure nothing egregious goes wrong.

I’m not happy Karine’s here. Unfortunately, she insisted on being present, just in case something goes wrong with Arsen, I think I can talk to him. And once the girl has an idea in her head, it’s impossible to talk her out of it.

She’s probably not wrong, as much as that frustrates me. Arsen is her cousin, but those two have some kind of strange connection. It’s fucked, but I’m jealous of that relationship, not because I see the man as a rival—he’s her cousin, for fuck’s sake—but because I want to be that close with her. I want to understand her better than anyone in the world, and I want her to open up to me in ways she’d never dream about with anyone else.

It’s absurd, but I’m consumed by her.

Which is why she’s here. For all my talk about being the pakhan, I still can’t say no to my wife.

Around nine thirty, we park outside of a quiet-looking restaurant called Osteria Tuscana. I’m not sure what the Armenians are doing in an Italian place, but Arsen insisted this was where his father would meet with his top lieutenants to discuss how to respond to Miriam’s rescue.

“We have a small window,” I tell Anton and Karine once we’re in position. “Arsen thinks the meeting will start around now and last for an hour.” I check my watch and nod to myself. “He’ll send a signal, just a message through a secure texting app, letting us know when it’s time to move in. If no signal shows up, we head back home and regroup.”

“What about the people in there?” Karine asks, gesturing with her chin and frowning toward the big windows. Tables of average-looking diners are visible, though the place doesn’t look very crowded.

“We’ll deal with them.”

“You can’t hurt innocent people, Valentin.”

“We won’t,” I assure her and glance back at Anton. “Right?”

“Innocent people are such a pain in the ass,” he says with an exaggerated sigh. “We tend to leave them alone.”

“I feel so much better,” Karine says sarcastically.

“We’ll make sure they clear out before anything violent happens,” Anton says, sounding more serious this time. “The fewer witnesses, the better.”

That seems to mollify Karine, at least for now.

We settle in to wait. That’s the most difficult part of any operation for me. I can kick in doors, draw my gun on strangers, kick and punch, and take a beating, but that’s all action. That’s movement, that’s progress. It’s sitting here doing jack shit that I can’t handle. My knee jostles and I struggle to keep from busting out the door and rushing in the damn place.


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