Authors: Rose Cody
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters are over the age of majority and all sexual acts are completely consensual.
(Bad Boy Mafia Pregnancy Romance)
First edition. May, 2016.
Copyright © 2016 Rose Cody
Written By Rose Cody
I guess being a gangster was just always fated to me.
My pops, God rest his soul, was a hitman for the Ambrosini crime family. Always got the job done right. Couldn’t be prouder to call him “dad”.
I didn’t know it at the time, of course, I was just a little boy, but all I knew was that he was well respected. And I wanted that.
Luckily for me, when your dad plays with the big boys, there will always be an in for you. And there was. I was doing low level runs before I was even eighteen years old. And from there I worked my way up. It was slow. It was brutal. But now, nine years later I’m a full-fledged member of the Ambrosini crime family, too. A made man.
Dad died seven years ago, and by “died” I mean he was hit out, which of course is a sad thing, but a gangster knows it’s how he’s going out from the beginning, and to be quite honest with you, I’m always kind of surprised it took them so long to get him.
But my mom, boy, she was devastated. She knew what dad did. Of course she knew. How can you hide another man’s blood from the woman who washes your clothes? But I think she always ignored the reality of it.
I can understand that, though. No one wants to think “oh, my husband’s a murderer and he probably got exactly what he deserved”. You see it all the time on TV, too; mother’s on the news trying to tell the world their kid is really a good kid after they shoot up a shopping mall. It’s sad but it’s the human condition.
I thought I was going to lose her, too, after that one. Thought she was going to die from a broken heart.
But she’s getting better, thanks in part to my beautiful baby sister having a beautiful baby girl of her own.
Princess may only be five months old, but she’s already breathed years of life back into my mother’s heart.
And mine, too. If you can imagine something like that!
I spend a lot of my teenage years being jealous of all the pussy I saw the big hitters get. Girl after girl, night after night. You didn’t like a bitch? Toss her ass out! It didn’t matter. How great would that be to tell some whore to suck you off and then watch them get to their knees. That’s power right there.
And it is great. You have no idea.
But my little niece, man, for the first time in my entire life I catch myself rethinking things because of her. She’s uncle Johnny’s girl, no doubt. I would do anything for her. She makes me want more out of life.
The way I looked up to my dad as a kid, I want someone to look up to me like that, too. Out of everything I got, and I got a lot, that’s the one thing my status can’t bring me. I’m finally seeing that there could potentially be more to life than
I clear my throat before whistling out a soft note as I place the blow torch down on the wooden workshop bench I’m leaning on and bring the glowing, red nail up to my face.
“Woooah, man. This is a hot one.” I say, walking, holding the nail away from my face with a pair of pliers.
“Burning hot, Johnny, hey!” My co-worker, Dino, says, stepping back slightly as I walk towards him.
I watch him lean down, getting right into the face of the guy we got tied up in the garage, his breath blowing the poor saps hair out of his eyes.
“But I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” He says, smirking as the man chained to the chair struggles. “What do you think? The hotter the better, or would you rather we go in cold?”
I laugh as I watch him try to scream through the rag we duct taped into his mouth.
Now, I’m not one to take pleasure in another person’s pain, right, but this guy… let’s just say, my boss is not very happy when nearly a million dollars in cocaine sales are nowhere to be found and if my boss ain’t happy, then I can’t be very happy either.
“One last chance!” I give him as I stand in front of him, the nail still red hot.
He tries to pull away as he furiously nods his head up and down. I look at Dino motioning for him to tear away the tape.
“Where?” I ask shortly, leaning in to hear his answer.
“If you give me two days, just two days…” His panicked voice starts.
“No.” I smirk, sinking the hot nail into his skin, the heat only making it easier to sear through his meat.
I listen to him shriek as I walk away, his cries soon muffled out as Dino stuffs the rag back into his mouth and tapes him up.
I pick up another nail before leaning back against the workbench before lighting my torch again.
“Hey, Dino!” I shout, looking over towards him as I heat up another nail. “What’s open late tonight? I’m starving.”
I grew up much like any other kid around here; a mom, a dad, a golden doodle to keep me company…
My city as it is now is actually a collection of a bunch of different former townships that eventually formed into one. They became the “neighbourhoods” as we like to call them around here. What used to be field on the highway is now strip malls, grocery stores and gas stations. Our former town halls are all but forgotten and turned into little movie theaters and play houses that… are still forgotten.
I never felt unsafe growing up; maybe it was the small town or maybe it was just the times, but as a little girl, my friends and I could walk around my town and never actually have to think about what kind of people might be occupying the houses around us.
I can’t say for certain when it changed. I know that we didn’t just wake up one day to gangs running our little city, it didn’t happen overnight. A gas station would be robbed here and there, someone would get beat up outside of the movies...
I remember when my city had its first murder. I mean, people had died before. Every once in a while a bar fight would go too far or someone would get hit with a car, but an actual
Poor Ms. Bukowski was just sitting in her house and minding her own business while watching her gameshows when two masked men broke in her front door and stabbed her to death. They stole all her jewelry, fuck, they even stole her spoon collection!
Things really weren’t the same after that. The people were demoralized and the police just didn’t have enough funding to take care of the snowballing crime. Nothing could be done.
I was a teenager when my dad had the front windows to his bakery busted in. What could thugs possibly want to steal from a bakery? Cake? For the first time though, they came back the next day, almost like they were bragging about it. It was bold and it was scary.
They told my dad that he could avoid all future frustrations for a small fee. And by small, I mean 10% of his sales.
My dad came here from Poland with nothing but a single suitcase and a pregnant wife and built that business, just like everything else in our life, with his own two hands. A 10% cut in sales for a small town immigrant baker would be devastating, but not as devastating as everyone knew those thugs could be so my dad had no other choice but to take the deal.
And my dad was not the only one. All around town we started noticing more and more businesses comping cups of coffee and steak dinners to the scummiest of people. It became obvious that our little city was no longer ours, it was now gang territory. And there was nothing we could do about it.
We paid them that 10% for years. Windows still got broken, people still got murdered, the “protection” wasn’t really protection after all, but who knows what would have happened if we refused? We just had to keep on paying.
At least, that was the plan, to just keep paying, until about a month ago they stormed into my dad’s kitchen and demanded more.
They demanded 30% or they wipe him off the map. Sometimes I think my dad’s just stupid, but I can’t say I would do any differently. He refused. He didn’t work his fingers to the bone for 25 years to throw it all away. He didn’t work for 25 years just to not be able to feed his family because some thugs think they own him, because they think they own this whole town.
He refused. And that night, they burned his bakery to the ground.
My dad is a tough guy. Growing up in rural poverty usually has that effect on a person. I had never seen him cry, not even at my grandmother’s funeral, so to see him cry in the street as he watched the flames take his
was the final straw.
I know I’m just one girl and one girl isn’t going to be able to make any impact on these sons of bitches, but I know someone who can and I know they’ll play dirty…
Amber’s heart pounds in her chest as she walks down the street, her short heels clicking on the damp concreate sidewalk, the noise distracting her as she makes her way down a street she’s never seen before.
“At least there’s people here, so that makes me feel a little bit better.” She says to herself as she passes two men in trench coats. “And they don’t have tattoos on their faces, either, so that’s a plus.”
Maybe no tattoos, but something was definitely unusual about the people here. It’s late in the evening and so it’s not like she expected children to be out with their moms and dads or anything, but she couldn’t help but notice that nothing seemed casual.
Every restaurant window she glances in contains nothing but men with slicked back hair and suits being waited on by less than fully clothed waitresses. And what kind of children’s toy store is open this late in the night?
“Well, this is definitely the neighbourhood.” She whispers to herself as she quickly glances back. “These businesses are probably all fronts.”
She glances down at the tiny, teared off corner of paper in her hand, reading the address before scrunching it back up and slipping it back into the front pocket of her jeans.
and Luther…. This is the place…” She says, tilting her head up to look up at the street signs. “But I’m not seeing anything…”
Amber spins around, glancing from side to side before her eyes catch a glimpse of light from the very end of a long, dark alley way.
She peers down the lane, biting her bottom lip as she notices the door under the light swing open and a large figure step outside.
“Bingo.” She says, her heart pounding as she takes a shaky breath before forcing her feet to step forward into the darkness.
“Hello?” She says, as she walks closer, letting the big guy know she’s there so she doesn’t spook him. “Are you the guy I talk to if I want to meet with Leo Ambrosini?”
She almost runs away as the large man turns around and tosses his smoke on the ground before twisting the toe of his shoe into it to put it out, but her feet won’t take her.
“Why, are you looking for a job?” He asks, looking her up and down as he folds his arms over his chest.
“No, I have a job.” Amber says, glancing back behind her into the darkness.
“So what do you want? Are you here to see him or not?” He says.
“Well, yes, I am.” She stutters.
“Were you ordered? Who do you work for?” He asks her.
“No!” Amber says, her eyes wide. “No, no one ordered me! I’m here because I want to talk to Leo Ambrosini about some business. He was recommended to me and…”
“No, I don’t think so.” He says, cutting her off. “Look I’m sure you’re a very nice lady and I’m sure your problems are definitely worthy of professional help, but see, my job here is to weed out the shit. If I let every girl with a problem inside the good men who work here would be opening pickle jars and killing spiders for you and we’re just not that kind of organization, you understand?”
“Well, excuse me, but this is a big job!” She says, offended as she watches the door open once again as two suited men step outside laughing with cigarettes in their mouths.
“Would you look at this lady!” One of them says as he brings the lighter up to his mouth to take the first drag of his smoke.
“What’s a good looking lady like you doing around here?” The second one asks, elbowing his friend lightly. “Come for a little fun?”
“Get a load of this, guys.” The big, burly door guard says, turning his back to her to face the men as he point back at her with his thumb. “She says she has a job for Leo Ambrosini.”
“Ha!” The taller one laughs as he breathes out a cloud of smoke. “So you have a job for the Mr. Leo Ambrosini, do you?”
“Yes, I do.” Amber says, tapping her foot on the concrete in frustration. “I just want to see him so I can talk to him.”
“About what?” The shorter one asks.
“Well, you know what?” She starts. “Maybe I’ll just take my money elsewhere if you guys don’t think you can handle it.”
“Hold on, hold on…” The taller one says as he flicks his cigarette to the ground as he smiles and glances at his friend. “Yeah, yeah, sure let’s get you inside. I know of a way that will surely get you to the boss… What do you say, Mel?”
“Yeah.” The short one says, pointing his thumb back towards the door as he motions the nods his head in the same direction. “Come with us and we’ll make sure you have a meeting with the Ambrosini himself.”