Fallen: An Angel Mafia Romance (Angels of New York Book 1)

1. duca

Ihated working at Christmas.

But when your boss calls you for a mission that might keep the entire family safe, you don’t say no.

The problem was a mission right now meant going out into the city with the rest of the fucking idiots doing their shopping at the last minute. Like they’d be able to find anything interesting the day before the holiday. If they’d really cared—if they’d had any sort of brains in their skulls—they’d have had their shopping done already and be home with their families on Christmas Eve.

Though half the families in New York would be out on the streets, jumping in cabs and taking carriage rides and drinking hot chocolate. Ice skating at Rockefeller, gazing up at the tree like they’d never seen one before. Find their way to all the parks that had lights or decorations, and doing whatever else families did at this time of year.

The thought made me smile, though, because it brought the memory of what my family did this time of year. My mother was Old World Italian, which meant she took Christmas way too seriously. And because she was Italian, she’d essentially made up her own rules and then pretended we all had to follow them. Every Christmas Eve when we were kids had included a storm of last-minute gift wrapping, then another storm of gift opening, followed by a feast that would have impressed Jesus himself.

Though based on the rumors I’d heard, the guy wasn’t too hard to impress. People these days thought they could use his name for all sorts of crazy ideas, but he’d been a hippie at heart. I bet he’d like a slice from the cart off the street and sweet relish on his New York hot dog.

He probably would have adored my mother.

As for my father...

Well, as far as I knew, he was in Hell already. And he could fucking stay there.

“Done,” a voice suddenly said from behind me.

I turned on my toe to find Joseph Rossi still on the phone, his eyes lifted to the ceiling and his hair practically standing on end. I wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but they weren’t giving him good news. He’d nearly straightened the curls he’d always hated so much.

I glanced around the room, looking for anything to keep me busy while I waited. There was nothing in here, though, but for the desk and a single tabletop Christmas tree, decorated with a sparse number of bulbs and lights.

Right. A tree that was both too small and too under-decorated. That could only mean one thing: his secretary Regina had been tasked with bringing it in and putting it together. Fat Jimmy Rossi had probably given her very specific directions about it, too.

Hey, I’d seen Joseph’s actual house. He and Sloane didn’t do anything small when it came to Christmas. It just wasn’t their style. Joseph had probably approved the small tree because he thought it made him look tough, which he definitely wasn’t.

He had me for that.

Which was, I assumed, why I was here.

I wished he’d get off the phone and tell me what he fucking wanted so I could get out there and do it.

“Right. Got it. Talk to you soon,” he said, and finally hung up the phone. “Duca, thank you for coming.”

I scoffed at that. “Since when are you so formal? What’s going on?”

His lips quirked and he rolled his eyes. Joseph was the second-in-command of the Rossi family, and a growing power in New York. He had everything: the looks, the business acumen, and a wife who could murder a man without chipping a nail. But he’d never been tough, and he certainly wasn’t formal. We’d known each other since we were kids and had never lost the easy camaraderie that came with growing up together. When he got old enough to take on responsibilities in his father’s organization, I was the first one he brought in to join him.

And neither of us had ever looked back.

“Right. The party starts at 6. Get over there, chat up Antony Angelis, and see if you can get him to meet me.”

I stared at him, wondering if he thought we’d been in the middle of a conversation or something. “That’s it?” I finally asked. “You think I’m just going to waltz into the Angelis house for their Christmas party, find the boss, and get him to suddenly fall in love with me? What the fuck, Joseph? I’m good, but I’m not magic.”

He shrugged. “You don’t have to be magic. Just use your charms. Get in there and get to Antony. We need the Angels on our side if we’re going to come out of this alive.”

I took a deep tug on my cigarette, then smashed it into the crystal ashtray on the desk. Terrific. Get into the Angelis house—which we hadn’t been invited to—get past the security I was sure Antony had surrounding the place, find a way to meet with the head Angelis, and somehow convince him to become a Rossi ally.

Sure. No problem.

“Yes sir,” I snapped, my tone only a little bit sarcastic.

I left through the side door, which led directly into the garden, and pulled my coat tight around me at the brisk night air. We’d had snow for about a week now and the weather was cold enough to keep it frozen. It was beautiful, but it was also a hassle.

Impossible to go anywhere without leaving footprints.

I made for the car I’d parked at the curb, my mind racing through what I knew. The war with the Massimos—and their Old World allies—was over, courtesy of Brooks and her New Orleans demons, but Joseph and Michael Rossi had been nervy as hell ever since. The fact that the Massimos had come so close to wiping us out over nothing didn’t sit well with either one of them, and they were building alliances with the richest families in town to shore up our resources. My own family was on the list, as a small but very wealthy part of the underworld, but Joseph had sent someone else to my uncle to broker the deal.

Why not me, you ask?

Blame my father. Or blame me. Neither of us had pleased the de la Rocas.

Which was why Joseph was sending me to the Angelis instead. The Angels. I didn’t know much about them, honestly. They’d shown up in town overnight with too much money and too many guns, and had set up shop in Midtown. It wasn’t a neighborhood that made sense, but neither did the Angelis family. They didn’t seem to have their hands in any of the rackets and hadn’t tangled with any of the other families in the city. No deals, no introductions. Just a group of entirely too-handsome mobsters dressed like they’d run with Capone back in the Twenties taking over the joint.

They had more money than God, and that made me nervous. The fact that no one knew where they’d come from made me even more twitchy. I liked people who had history and made sense. The Angelis were none of that.

Then there were the rumors about them not quite being human. Not that I put any store by it. I’d never been into that whole supernatural thing. My world was solid. The streets of Brooklyn. The gun in my hand, and the other in my shoulder holster. Blood and sweat and tears.

I didn’t buy that they weren’t human. I just didn’t know what they actually were.

The good news was, they were just as mysterious for everyone else in New York. No one had managed to make inroads into their house yet, and no one knew where they’d come from or what they wanted.

Evidently Joseph was expecting me to figure that out and get them on our side before anyone else even approached them.

Like I said. This was why he kept me around. Because I never failed at missions like that.