Veiled Vows: An age gap, marriage of convenience, secret pregnancy, mafia romance (Mafia Lords of Sin)

Purse, check.

Lipstick, check.

Gun, check.

Confidence … working on it.

Standing in front of the Mancini mansion, my stomach contracts, and the growing urge to run to the bathroom rises.

Am I really doing this? Am I really standing in front of the Mancini residence demanding a meeting with one of the most powerful people in the city? Possibly the entire country?

Three days ago, I made the call and demanded the meeting. I was laughed right off the phone, but that didn’t stop me. Eighteen calls—and several glasses of wine later—I got my answer. A fifteen-minute meeting that would end early if I didn’t bring something interesting to the table.

I’m lucky she didn’t have me shot.

I’ve spent the past three days trying to find something interesting outside of my own reason for demanding this meeting, and I have nothing.

This may be the shortest meeting in the history of meetings ever.

The door opens and a man dressed in a burgundy suit motions me inside with one white-gloved hand. He doesn’t speak, nor does he return my smile when I flash him a nervous one. Just as I’m about to introduce myself, he closes the door and strides away from me with a flick of his wrist, indicating that I follow.

My heels clack obnoxiously loud on the marble floors making my cheeks heat up with every step. I try to walk on my tiptoes but even that feels loud. In the end I have to deal with it. He leads me down a lavish corridor where countless fantastical paintings hang from the walls and several black marble statues of half-naked women stand guard at large oak doors. They’re beautiful.

I’m led into a room and seated next to a roaring fire, then the man leaves and silence falls.

My heart beats wildly in my chest as I clutch my purse in my lap while staring at the flames. Coming here is a terrible gamble. After everything with Roman, I fired every guard I didn’t trust out of fear they were somehow on his payroll. If his goal was to make me unable to trust anyone then it certainly worked, but without major security, I’m a sitting duck.

I need an ally.

One who will keep the Gattis scared.

Here I sit, hoping I can somehow persuade the head of the Mancini family to help me.

Me.

A nobody from a small family they were eager to slaughter a few months ago just to get us to shut up.

My heart becomes a blur in my chest and nausea curls through my gut, then the door opens and every part of me freezes.

Theresa Mancini glides into the room as if she’s walking on air. She wears an elegant teal sundress that flows around her as if the fabric hovers, almost too scared to touch her body. Her amber hair is curled and held to one side by glistening pins, and her light pink lips pull into a pleasant yet dangerous smile when she spots me.

When she sits, the cushions barely even shift in her presence.

Maybe I’m dreaming.

“So.”

When she speaks, I’m jolted back to hiding in that closet with Roman, listening to this woman order my family to be slaughtered. Now I’m sitting in her lounge.noveldrama

“Care for anything to drink?”

I shake my head quickly. “No. No thank you.”

“Pity,” she says lazily. “I hate drinking alone.”

Still, I shake my head. “Thank you but no, I can’t.”

“You can’t?” She arches one perfectly elegant brow and runs her glittering eyes down the length of my body until they stop at my abdomen. “Can’t or won’t?”

I should lie but somehow the words escape me like her very presence compels me. “Can’t.”

“Interesting.” The door opens and a man enters with a white towel over one arm carrying a single martini. He hands it to Theresa and leaves just as quickly. “You’ve caused quite the stir, Jasmine.”

She purrs my name and an unexpected thrill shoots through me. Theresa is a powerful and beautiful woman. Her family has been on top in the Mafia for generations, using a balance of ruthlessness and generosity to remain as beloved as they are feared. It’s unexpectedly exciting to hear her say my name.

“I heard that getting time with you is a challenge so I did what I had to do.”

“Is that right?” She watches me over the edge of her glass, then takes a small sip. “I was terribly sorry to hear about the passing of your father,” she says while not sounding sorry in the slightest. “What a shame. How did he die?”

I suddenly feel like I’m on trial. I’ve been striving to keep the truth a secret to save my mother any further pain, but the look in Theresa’s eyes suggests she already has her answers. This is a test.

“He was murdered.”

“Oh my, how shocking.” Not a single hint of surprise in her tone. “Do you know by who?”

Another test. “I know who I blame,” I reply honestly.

“Fascinating.” A light smile creeps across her lips. “So tell me why you harassed my poor assistant so much that she had to take a personal day.”

“She did? Oh no, I’m sorry, I was just trying to⁠—”

Theresa cuts me off by narrowing her eyes. “You wanted this meeting, did you not?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Then don’t apologize for how you got it. Tell me why. Your boldness intrigues me.”

She talks like I’m some new toy she’s discovered, but if it gets me what I want then I won’t complain. Drawing in a deep breath, I straighten my back and swallow hard to calm myself.

“I want an alliance. Between me and you. Help me crush the Yakuza into dust and I will cut you in on thirty percent of the drug trade. I know you’ve been struggling to gain a confident foothold in such a competitive market, so I’m offering it to you.”

“Have I been struggling? Hm. In exchange for what exactly?” Theresa sips once more. “Our manpower? To crush the Yakuza? And here I thought the Falzone family’s strength lay in their manpower.”

“I … have had to adjust some of our alignments, and those who remain are my forward line against the Gattis.”

“Ah yes. The wedding I was so looking forward to has been canceled.” Her eyes flash like a cat approaching a bird. “You must be devastated.”

“Look.” Theresa strikes me as a woman who appreciates directness so cutting through the bush is my only option. “I know you want me dead. Or my family, at least. I know a few months ago you gave the order for my family and the Gattis to be wiped out because the feud between my father and Santino Gatti was growing tiresome and invasive. So the wedding was my way of ending that, but things change and people aren’t who they seem. And now that my father is dead, I know whose crosshairs are on my back. So I want to end this feud once and for all, and to do that, I need every last loyal man I have bearing down on the Gattis, but I can’t do that with the Yakuza in their pocket. So yes. I need help. But no one does anything for free, so I am prepared to sacrifice thirty percent of my drug trade in order to get what I want. And I’m offering it to you.”

Theresa seems completely unbothered by anything I’ve said. She’s as relaxed as if we were having tea discussing the next gala. Then the aura around her melts away, and I catch a glimpse of the shrewd businesswoman who’s brought her family to glory.

“Thirty-five percent and I want ten percent annual profit from your gun running,” she states firmly. “You’re a small fish. You understand that asking me for help not only gives you what you want but it puts my name in association with yours. For the rest of our lives. That kind of association comes with a cost.”

“Thirty-two percent and you can have five percent annual profit from guns. Which will increase exponentially without the Yakuza or the Gattis in my way.” My heart feels like it’s about to explode. I’m a lamb negotiating with a hungry hyena.

“Seven percent,” Theresa replies.

It’s a lot. She’s asking for too much, but she’s right. If she steps in to help me then the entire world will see the Mancinis helping the Falzones, and that association will never go away.

“Deal.”

Theresa smiles like an eager cat and drains her glass. “Excellent.” Her eyes dip briefly to my stomach. “And the man you were to marry, Roman was it? What if my men come across him? Do you need me to spare your lover?”

I have no answer for her as I’m doing what I can to not think about him. “If my plan works,” I reply. “He won’t be an issue.”

“Very well.” Theresa sets her glass down and then stands and holds out her hand to me.

I rise and take it. She’s surprisingly cold to the touch despite the warmth her relaxed air gives her. “So we have a deal?”

Our hands shake briefly and she smiles. “We have a deal. But I’m sure I don’t need to warn you, Jasmine, that the very hint of disruption toward myself or anything I hold dear will bring the entire wrath of my family down on you.”

“I understand,” I say, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. “That won’t happen. I won’t stop until every single Gatti is in the ground.”

Theresa hums softly, then suddenly her entire demeanor changes and she speaks to me as if we’re long friends. “Walk with me then in the garden. I want you to tell me every detail of your plan and then I will see how we can help.”