Cosa Nostra: A Steamy Mafia Romance (Kids of The District Book 3) by Nicci Harris (new books to read .TXT) 📕

"What's he done now?" Xander asks, walking towards us. He puts his arms around his big brother. "Happy Birthday, mate." The Mad Hatter and The Joker embrace, patting each other's backs and it makes for a really funny visual. Imagining the shenanigans those two characters would get up to on screen, I giggle to myself.

After releasing each other, Xander nods a hello at Max. Max scowls at Xander and then looks at me, his eyes dropping to my belly for a split second. The tension around the two brothers feels like a brewing storm. Eventually, it will either pass with time or explode into chaos. My heart falls when Max turns his back on his little brother and walks across the room to stand with his friends again.

I purse my lips while studying Xander's now tight face. "Are you and Max okay?" The words just fall out. And it must be the pregnancy because I would never usually involve myself in anything between them. Knowing Max like I do, he would be bludgeoning his fists on a boxing bag during a conversation like this. But I want to know. "Things seem. . ."

He clears his throat. "Tense." Reaching for a bottle of vodka, he pulls the cap off and gulps it straight from the neck.

Bronson stays cavalier, but there is a flicker of a flame in his opal-blue eyes. Of disapproval. Of warning. "Slow down, dickhead."

Xander takes the bottle and disappears into the crowd.

With that, I quickly fix the cake, light the candles, and then attempt to embarrass Bronson by singing him "Happy Birthday".

I should have known. . . nothing embarrasses that man.

Max joins me, and we move outside to where Toni, Flick, Stacey, and some other people are all chatting and drinking. While everyone laughs and jokes around us, I pull my attention away from them and move closer to the man beside me. He lifts his arm and I cuddle his side. My wings create a little separation between everyone else and us. I peer up at this titan of a man and see pain in his eyes. I want to ask about Xander. About this rift. It must be affecting him; I can see it right now, a kind of resentment barely masked in his grey irises.

Realising I haven't seen Xander since he disappeared with the vodka bottle, I gaze across the vast property: over the alfresco, out across the lawn, and to the boat moored on the canal. He's nowhere to be seen, causing a strange feeling to play around in my belly. I breathe in the air, which is laced with cigarette smoke, menthol, and a musky wet smell from the river. It's a warm night, but nothing is as warming as Max's arms around me.

Instead of asking questions, I just hold him and breathe deep.

Cassidy

The party is still in full swing when Flick and I attempt to get a bit of peace and quiet. A girl dressed as Dracula's wife stops me on our way outside. "Cassidy." She touches my shoulder. "Where's the bathroom?"

I beam at her as if she's just told me how beautiful I am or how good Max and I look together. All the sweets. . . "Under the stairs" –I point– "is a powder room."

She grins. "Thanks. Great party by the way."

Eeeee!

Flick eyes me, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're ridiculous."

"She knew my name," I squeak. "And that I'd know where the bathroom is."

"Everyone knows your name. They did well before Max Butcher, I might add."

"Sure. . . still." I giggle.

Carter follows us as we wander down the grass hill towards the edge of the canals. The murmur of guests dwindles the further we go. It's nice to get some quiet.

The canals run all the way down to Stormy River and out to sea. Looking out over them, I take the moment in. This is my favourite kind of weather. The breeze is warm, and the air is dry with a slight crispness to it. As the gentle wind hits the canals, it sweeps the earthy scent up the banks and sways my hair around my shoulders. Searching the horizon, I can make out the silhouettes of houses on the opposite side.

We stop at the grass mound just before the water and sit down. I wait patiently for Flick to talk, knowing she needs to express herself. I lean back, placing my hands on the grass, squeezing the blades between my fingers.

She sighs and places her hand over mine. "You seem really happy."

I smile at that. "That's because I am."

"You need to go see Mum more." She lifts her chin. "Her little girl has moved out and is having a baby thug. She needs to see you more."

Maybe I should get defensive, but that just makes me giggle. "Can you get me a onesie with 'baby thug' written on it, please?"

"I like him, you know." She stares straight ahead. "I do."

"That sounded convincing."

She looks at my face. "No. I do. He's a complete dickhead sometimes. Borderline psychotic. But. . . the other day, I saw a picture of you two on Twitter. The caption said, 'Get yourselves a man who looks at you like Max Butcher looks at Cassidy Slater'. Not the most original of captions, but it suited the image. He worships you. It is so plain to see." She pauses for a moment with her thoughts. "You can change him."

I stiffen. "I don't want to change him. I just want to be there for him and-"

My eyes snap around at the sound of a glass smashing against something hard. Carter is already beside me, not concerned with the ruckus, only with me. I hear muffled growls and grunts. I climb to my feet.

"Stay here," I whisper to Flick before walking back up the bank and around the front of the house. Carter speaks into his chest microphone, ordering for back up. He's in my shadow. His feet basically hit mine as I walk, he