The New Girl: A Dark Mafia Romance

Michael.

Another bidding auction lost.

I was going to find whoever moodycutie69 was and fucking throttle them.

My fourth cigarette was lit. Nicotine flooded my system with the first drag and I leaned my head against the wall.

Another one slipped through my fingers. In my mind’s eye, I could visualize the gap in my collection, and now it would remain that way.

Empty.

When would I ever find another person with that fucking Raichu card?

Months? Years?

I groaned aloud just as the back door of the nightclub abruptly swung open.

Then she came out. The new-ish waitress we hired at the club almost ten months back.

Olivia.

She hauled two large garbage bags across the back alley.

She was twenty-seven. Blonde. Painfully nice. Pretty.

Way too fucking young for me.

She struggled to lift one of the bags into the dumpster. Quickly, I moved forward to help.

Startled at the sight of me, she rested a hand over her chest.

“Oh. Thank you, Mr. Moretti,” she said as I tossed the bag in.

We hadn’t spoken much. Even during her interview, I had been present, but said almost nothing.

“You don’t need to call me that.” I felt ancient enough as it was. “Just Michael.”

She smiled faintly. “Michael.”

I liked hearing her say my name, too.

“It was no problem.”

I took another drag and returned to the wall I was leaning against. Olivia moved to the door, then hesitated when her hand rested against the handle.

Slowly, she pulled it shut again.

My heart began to race as she fiddled with the cuff of her white sleeve.

“Um, are you okay?” she asked, and turned to face me again.

I blinked. “What?”

“You seem… more tense than usual.”

My eyes darted around. I wasn’t aware I ever looked any different.

We had a mole somewhere in our organization that I couldn’t fucking root out. A militia that kept intercepting our merchandise. A powerful mafia family that wanted my brother dead.

The job was always stressful. Always fucking terrible. But the last few months had been exceptionally bad.

“Are you saying I always walk around with a stick up my ass?” I asked mildly.

Olivia sputtered out a laugh. It was a sweet, soft sound.

“No, no! Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that!”

She was still laughing, and my lips threatened to curve.

“I just mean, you look really frustrated. And…” She gestured toward the cigarette butts scattered near my feet. “Looks like you’ve been here a while.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. “Yeah. It’s a shitty habit, I know.”

“Hey, no judgment." Olivia smiled. "We all have our things.”

I lifted an eyebrow as I took another drag. “Do we? What’s yours?”

“Well, I used to drink a lot. Now I just knit sweaters for dogs.”

It took me a moment longer than usual to process that. “You… knit.”

“Yeah.”

“Sweaters.”

“Yeah.”

“For dogs."

"Yeah!"

"But they have fur.”

“I saw a YouTube video of these chihuahuas in the Arctic. Like… freezing. A little chihuahua should be in a warm climate, you know? Not freaking Greenland.”

She shook her head, completely serious. “So I knit sweaters for this non-profit. They send out these sweaters anywhere in the world.”

What… the fuck?

How did I go from not having spoken a single full sentence to this woman, to learning about her soft spot for dogs?

“You don’t drink anymore?” I asked instead, still trying really hard not to smile.

“Just here and there. Working in the club kind of makes me hate it. Um, no offense.”

I shook my head to dismiss that. “You deal with drunks all night.”

“Yeah.” Her feet shuffled. “I-I mean, I'm grateful for the job. The pay is good. And I’ve got a skein of yarn at home waiting for me to rip open.”

I think I was falling in love with this woman.

“Is your shift over?” My voice almost cracked like I was in puberty.

I knew it was, but I wasn’t about to confess that I had her work schedule memorized like a fucking creep.

She glanced down at her smartwatch, and the screen lit up. “Oh, yeah. It ended like fifteen minutes ago.”

My cigarette dropped to the ground and I stomped it out. “Well, good luck with the… sweater.”

I winced at myself.

What the fuck did that mean? Abort mission, you dumbass.

Olivia smiled.

“Thanks, Mister—” She caught herself. With a reddened face, she awkwardly, stiffly turned and opened the door. “Um, Michael. Have a good night.”

Sunday, the following night, I found myself in a suit that I hadn’t worn for a few years. It was uncomfortably tight in the arms, but was the only one I owned. Nicola had insisted on black-tie.

The entire Moretti family was gathered in a banquet hall above one of the city’s fancier restaurants. I sat at a long table between my brother Thomas and a cousin I hadn’t seen in years.

Across from me, Aubergine was seated beside Nicola at the end of the table, wearing a black gown.

After wine had been served, the don rose to his feet.

And like magic, everyone in the banquet room suddenly quieted. Almost thirty people, Italians at that– silenced.

It always impressed me how Nicola could command a room without ever having to raise his voice. Our father had used his presence in the same way, but never to Nicky's caliber. It wasn't enough that everyone respected him. They were all a little scared of him, too.

Including me.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he began.

“What’s this about, Nicky?” Our aunt asked from the other end of the table. “Your cousins and I missed a wake for this dinner, you know.”

“I have something to announce.”

He looked to Aubergine, and she slowly rose.

The table quieted again as she stood to his side. He placed an arm around her shoulders. “Aubergine and I are getting married.”

My face dropped and I heard someone at the table gasp.

I blinked at her.

This woman had been kidnapped. She had a gun to her head. I thought surely, that was enough to make her stay away.

Who the fuck would willingly marry into this life? What was she thinking?

“Holy shit,” my cousin whispered to my left. “I just lost a bunch of money.”

I looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Ah." He waved a hand irritably. "We were all placing bets on what the dinner was about tonight. I put my money on cancer. It’s always cancer, y’know?”

“I won the jackpot in a bet,” Tommy muttered to me on my other side, clearly not overhearing my cousin. “No one in this family thought Nicky was ever gonna get married.”

I snorted as everyone raised their glasses.

"Cin cin!"

To be fair, I didn’t think any of us would ever get married. Though, least of all him.

All at once, several family members swarmed them, kissing her on the cheeks and embracing them both.

Tommy and I rose last.

I shook Nicola’s hand firmly.

“Congratulations,” I murmured into his ear as we hugged. “Try to not fuck it up like Dad did with Mom.”

“Fuck off, Mike,” he whispered back, then grinned as Tommy embraced him.

“Congratulations,” Tommy said quietly. “Guess I can’t sleep with her now, can I?”

Disappointed, I shut my eyes. Tommy released an “oof” sound. I didn’t want to know where Nicola hit him, but he deserved it.

“Both of you are shit brothers,” Nicola said quietly as he rested a hand on our shoulders. “But from here on out, you’re going to be angels. Around family. Especially around Aubergine. Capisce?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tommy broke away and quickly brought Aubergine into a bear hug.

I embraced her last.

“You sure this is what you want?” I asked quietly when I pulled away. "Nicola is a dickhead."

"I fucking heard that," Nicola muttered between gritted teeth.

As though she understood, Aubergine smiled at me, then up to Nicola when he returned to her side. Her arm wrapped around him and he kissed the top of her head. “Yeah. It’s what I’ve always wanted, Mike.”

My shoulders slumped.

She was so in love with my brother that she signed her life away to this.

The nightclub. The warehouses. The violence.

I just couldn’t fathom someone willingly coming into it… when all I wanted to do was leave.

The club was surprisingly packed when we arrived that evening after dinner. Olivia caught sight of me as she placed a drink onto a table. She made her way over to where I stood in a quiet hallway.

Standing near her again, I tried to ignore the excited thumping in my chest like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush.

“Hey. Is it true?” she asked.

“What?”

“Mr. Moretti—um, your brother... he’s getting married?”

“Yeah.” I pulled off my tie.

“Wow. I just… you know, he had a reputation."

I snorted. “Is that what the employees do all day? Gossip about Nicola?”

“Not always,” she replied with a teasing grin. “They gossip about Thomas, too.”

Well… that was hardly surprising. Olivia glanced toward the stairwell leading to the VIP area, then back at me.

“Are things going to change around here when he gets married?”

My brow knit together. “Why? You worried about something?”

“No. Just curious.” She tilted her head. “Do you always work nights, too?”

“Sometimes.”

“Here?”

“Mostly.”

She nodded as though filing that away. When her blue eyes climbed back up to my face, she looked thoughtful.

“You know… they don’t talk much about you.”

Good.

“I’m the least interesting brother.” I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over my arm.

“Just because you don’t like the spotlight doesn’t mean you aren’t interesting.” Her cheeks reddened. “Uh, I just mean, I think you like staying under the radar, huh?”

I couldn’t remember the last time someone asked me this many questions about myself.

It was… almost unsettling.

“I prefer to mind my own business.”

Olivia’s face fell.

“Yeah. Um, sorry. I’ll just… head back to the bar.”

My eyes shut in regret.

You’re such an asshole, Michael.

“I don’t knit sweaters,” I called after her, making her pause mid-step. Olivia turned on her heel to partly face me.

“I collect Pokémon cards,” I said sheepishly. I threw a hand out. “That’s pretty much it. My dirty little secret.”

Olivia’s cheeks rounded as she smiled.

“So… you're a homebody,” she laughed. “I like it.”

She walked away, and I caught myself grinning.