Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance

He clenched his jaw. “I’ll tell you about her another day. I think one family secret is enough for tonight.” I accepted that wordlessly. He kept pacing. “Family is everything to me, especially since Liv passed. I can see how fragile it all is, and I’ll do anything to hold it together. Reputation may not matter much to you, but it means more than anything to my mother, and she’d die if her secret was released to the world.”

My mouth fell open and I covered my sudden shock by sipping my whiskey.

I had power over them.

His mother’s feelings mattered to Darren. He didn’t want her reputation to suffer over this little secret—and that might work in my favor.

But could I really use it against them? And how would I even do that? Threaten to release it into the world. Somehow get a message out to Cassie.

Ruin poor Charleigh in the process. The woman wasn’t exactly nice, but she hadn’t directly done anything to me.

Only went along with her insane son’s plan to kidnap and marry me.

Which, incidentally, so did Penny, and she was the one that spilled the secret to begin with.

Revealing that information about Anthony wouldn’t only hurt Charleigh. It would impact Darren and Penny and probably Erin. The whole family would suffer.

Could I do that to Penny? To the sweet girl that cried when I told her my sad story?

I think I could. Given the right situation.

Her brother did kidnap me, after all.

For now, I’d stay quiet and wait. There might be another way out of this mess without hurting Penny.

“I understand feeling some sort of way about your mother having an affair with Roman’s father, but why do you hate Roman?” I tapped my finger against the whiskey glass.

Darren stared darkly at the midnight black window. Lights from a nearby town sparkled in the distance.

“At first, we had no issue. I knew Roman was Anthony’s half-brother, but it didn’t seem to matter. My mother gave birth to Anthony and he was just our brother. But when I turned twenty, and Anthony was ten, Roman did something that I’ll never forgive.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“What happened?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Roman tried to kill Anthony. Shot him in the shoulder and barely missed his heart.”

I took a step backwards. “You’re lying.”

“I’m sure Anthony would show you the scar.” Darren smiled ruefully and watched me closely. “Do you think Roman is a good man? Are you so convinced that he’s decent just because he loves your friend?”

“I think you’re all monsters.”

“Damn right we are. But at least I protect the people I love.” Darren threw back the second drink then slammed the glass down onto his desk. He walked toward me, radiating rage and animal lust. I nearly backed into the fire and only just stopped myself in time.

He reached forward and grabbed my waist, pulling me against him. I let out a surprised yelp as he crushed his lips against my neck then shoved me down into a chair. I hit hard and would’ve fallen backwards if he didn’t put a foot down on the seat and kept it steady.

My heart lurched and hammered as he knelt down in front of me.

“We were at a party. Back then, we mingled in the same circle. We’re around the same age. I had no clue Roman was going to try something that night, but he convinced me to bring Anthony out with us, then lured my stupid little brother off alone. Roman pulled a gun and squeezed the trigger. One shot was all he got off. Luckily, I was already on my way to find them when I heard it. I tackled Roman, broke his nose, shattered his wrist, and would’ve killed him if it weren’t for security. The poor bastard’s house we were at was livid that Roman nearly killed a ten-year-old on his property, but at that point, I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought.”

He went silent. I stared into his face and tried to imagine going through that. They were friends once, a long time ago—or at least close enough to friends. Then one night, Roman tried to murder a little kid.

I couldn’t begin to imagine doing something like that.

And yet I knew Darren wasn’t lying. I saw the fresh rage and sorrow in his face, how it bubbled up from inside of him, impossibly thick and dangerous. His hands gripped the arms of the chair on either side of me and I was trapped in his memories, in his suffering. His chin tilted up and he stared into my eyes.

“He tried to kill a ten-year-old boy. What sort of psychopath does something like that?”

“There had to have been a reason.”

“I don’t give a damn if he was the best reason in the world. He tried to murder a child.” His knuckles turned white. “If I hadn’t been there, I would’ve lost my brother.”