Maria's Christmas Angel: A DARK ANGEL Romance (Alpha Male, Erotic Mafia Romance) by Angela Jordan
Authors: Angela Jordan
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Chapter One
“…I now pronounce you man and wife.”
The entire church broke out in laughter and applause as my brother, Angelo DeSilvo, lavishly kissed his new bride, Karen, without waiting for the priest to give him permission. Of course, Angelo never had been one to wait for permission, now had he?
No, h e was a man who walked his own path in life and damned the rules that didn’t suit him – and I admired that about him, immensely.
If only I could do the same…
Watching the ceremony that had bound his life to Karen, his new wife, had brought tears to my eyes. I was so damn happy for them. Angelo looked so handsome in his dark tux, and Karen was a vision in her white, strapless wedding dress that hugged her curves like a dream. She had been so kind to me throughout the wedding preparation, and to her other bridesmaid, Amanda, as well – taking care of everything we could possibly need, when I joked that it was supposed to be the other way around. And our outfits were perfect: she’d put us in vibrant dark-red dresses, the same color of the roses we carried in our bouquets, and made of long, strapless sheaths of satin. The heavy weight was appropriate for the Christmas wedding they had insisted on having, and the slit up the thigh gave the dresses a sexy allure that, I couldn’t help but notice, had more than few men in the crowd staring.
My brother had always been a difficult man to get close to , but when he met Karen at one of the restaurants we owned, he had fallen in love almost instantly. Their courtship wasn’t always easy. Karen was a strong woman who could hold her own against my domineering brother, which drove Angelo crazy in every way, shape and form. I knew she’d need that fire, though, to be able to handle him in the years to come, especially with our particular family.
From a very young age , both Angelo and I understood that we didn’t come from your typical, average family. Before we were born, our father had converted his butcher shop into a small family restaurant when he’d met our mother. Although it had also been love at first sight for them, their relationship had its own share of difficulties, since – and there’s no way to put this lightly – my mother’s family was deeply, inextricably tied to the Italian mafia. Yes, the mob. It wasn’t a term we liked to use often, but damn if it wasn’t accurate. Our mother’s brother, Giovanni Luciano, was a big boss of the “family business,” and he single-handedly ran most of the illegal gambling in New York City. It was difficult, if not impossible, to distance ourselves from that side of the family, but Angelo and I separated ourselves from that life as best we could.
That was easier said than done, though, of course. O ur parents had done their best to raise us outside of the scope of any illegal activities, but we were still connected through our family – and they never let us forget it. When our parents died, Angelo worked hard to keep himself on the straight and narrow path, both for his own safety as well as for mine. But no matter how he tried to hide it from me, I knew Angelo dealt with a lot pressure from la Famigla when they tried to bring them into their ranks .
He stood firm, though, and took care of me, always looking out for me when others might have tried to take advantage. Our parents left us a small fortune when they died, and Angelo and I had both invested the money wisely. In time, we’d each saved up enough to lead very comfortable lives. With neither of us wanting to be idle, my brother and I decided to keep our father’s restaurant open, and we even opened up another after a few years. We owned the businesses together, 50-50, although I let Angelo be the public face of our family enterprises. I preferred to operate in the background, taking a position as the restaurant manager at DeSilvo’s, instead of everyone knowing that I was a full partner. Angelo agreed with this setup 100%. He knew our
“…I now pronounce you man and wife.”
The entire church broke out in laughter and applause as my brother, Angelo DeSilvo, lavishly kissed his new bride, Karen, without waiting for the priest to give him permission. Of course, Angelo never had been one to wait for permission, now had he?
No, h e was a man who walked his own path in life and damned the rules that didn’t suit him – and I admired that about him, immensely.
If only I could do the same…
Watching the ceremony that had bound his life to Karen, his new wife, had brought tears to my eyes. I was so damn happy for them. Angelo looked so handsome in his dark tux, and Karen was a vision in her white, strapless wedding dress that hugged her curves like a dream. She had been so kind to me throughout the wedding preparation, and to her other bridesmaid, Amanda, as well – taking care of everything we could possibly need, when I joked that it was supposed to be the other way around. And our outfits were perfect: she’d put us in vibrant dark-red dresses, the same color of the roses we carried in our bouquets, and made of long, strapless sheaths of satin. The heavy weight was appropriate for the Christmas wedding they had insisted on having, and the slit up the thigh gave the dresses a sexy allure that, I couldn’t help but notice, had more than few men in the crowd staring.
My brother had always been a difficult man to get close to , but when he met Karen at one of the restaurants we owned, he had fallen in love almost instantly. Their courtship wasn’t always easy. Karen was a strong woman who could hold her own against my domineering brother, which drove Angelo crazy in every way, shape and form. I knew she’d need that fire, though, to be able to handle him in the years to come, especially with our particular family.
From a very young age , both Angelo and I understood that we didn’t come from your typical, average family. Before we were born, our father had converted his butcher shop into a small family restaurant when he’d met our mother. Although it had also been love at first sight for them, their relationship had its own share of difficulties, since – and there’s no way to put this lightly – my mother’s family was deeply, inextricably tied to the Italian mafia. Yes, the mob. It wasn’t a term we liked to use often, but damn if it wasn’t accurate. Our mother’s brother, Giovanni Luciano, was a big boss of the “family business,” and he single-handedly ran most of the illegal gambling in New York City. It was difficult, if not impossible, to distance ourselves from that side of the family, but Angelo and I separated ourselves from that life as best we could.
That was easier said than done, though, of course. O ur parents had done their best to raise us outside of the scope of any illegal activities, but we were still connected through our family – and they never let us forget it. When our parents died, Angelo worked hard to keep himself on the straight and narrow path, both for his own safety as well as for mine. But no matter how he tried to hide it from me, I knew Angelo dealt with a lot pressure from la Famigla when they tried to bring them into their ranks .
He stood firm, though, and took care of me, always looking out for me when others might have tried to take advantage. Our parents left us a small fortune when they died, and Angelo and I had both invested the money wisely. In time, we’d each saved up enough to lead very comfortable lives. With neither of us wanting to be idle, my brother and I decided to keep our father’s restaurant open, and we even opened up another after a few years. We owned the businesses together, 50-50, although I let Angelo be the public face of our family enterprises. I preferred to operate in the background, taking a position as the restaurant manager at DeSilvo’s, instead of everyone knowing that I was a full partner. Angelo agreed with this setup 100%. He knew our
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