Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance - Page 46

I laughed. “You don’t want to feel like a princess?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Think about it this way. The hotter you are, the more power you’ll have over my brother.”

She laughed and covered her mouth, blushing. I grinned at her.

“Aren’t you not supposed to say something like that? I mean, you should be on his side.”

“Oh, he doesn’t need my help. Darren always gets what he wants.” I rolled my eyes. “Now come on, let’s get you all dressed up.”

We started with one of my dresses, a pretty A-line that suited her beautifully. She had a really nice figure—shockingly nice, actually. I’m not all that into girls, but I could appreciate the female form, and there was a lot to appreciate on Winter. She stood in front of the mirrors, glaring at herself.

“I hate it.”

“Oh, come on. Look at you! I’d bang you. Seriously, I’m thinking about it.”

I really was. She was hot!

“Don’t be weird.” But she was smiling, which was my goal.

We got her out of that one and into a mermaid. It hugged her hips. She shimmied around, shaking her head. “Too tight. Can’t move. Can’t breathe.”

“We’ll get it altered.”

“No way. Next.”

She tried on a few more dresses. Each one was elegant and she looked incredible, but she always found a flaw: didn’t like the color, too many weird “stone thingies” (her words, not mine), didn’t like the fit or the style or whatever. Finally, she pulled on that conservative sheath dress she chose, and stepped back.

She was radiant. Somehow, covering more of her skin only made her that much more beautiful. The dress was tight and certain parts of it were nearly see-through, but only hinting at the body beneath made it that much more tempting.

We stood in awe and neither of us spoke.

“That’s the one,” I said, nodding. “Definitely the one.”

“I think you’re right.” She barked an amazed laugh. “I think I’d bang me in this dress.”

I held up my champagne glass and handed her one. She took it and we toasted.

“To getting married.”

“To your brother. Hopefully, he’s not always such a dick.” She threw back the champagne and looked at herself in the mirror again.

I only sipped my drink and set it aside.

I wanted to tell her everything: about Liv, about Darren, about why he was the way he was. She knew about Anthony and Roman and the attempted murder, but she didn’t understand why Roman would do something so horrendous. And how could she? It seemed inexcusable.

And it was, but I’d always felt like I could understand what might drive a man to do something like that, considering Anthony was named after Roman’s dead older brother.

That was the cherry on top of the fucked-up sundae and probably the one thing that really drove Roman into a homicidal rage.

It was hard not to lose it when you thought someone was born and bred to be a replacement for your family member.

I was speculating, of course. I didn’t actually know Roman’s reasons.

But Darren was too blind to that sort of thing. He could only see actions and consequences and never reasons and feelings.

“All little girls dream of their wedding day,” Winter said wistfully. “Except mine’s happening at the end of a gun.”

“Not exactly a gun. Well, okay, it won’t be pointed at you.”

She turned and grinned at me.

Then the shooting started.

I knew the sound right away. Winter did too apparently. Gunshots, loud and in the other room. I heard shouting, screams of pain. Miss Aubrey slammed through the door, covered in blood. She staggered once and fell over, bleeding from her chest, trying to gasp for air.

Winter went to run toward her, but I grabbed her wrist.

“This way,” I hissed, yanking her away.

We ran across the room. More gunshots, more shouting. I didn’t know if our guards were winning or losing, but based on the number of bullets getting expended out there, I’d guess losing by a lot.

I shoved through a door. Roman drilled this into me: always look for an exit. I staggered into a back room filled with shelves and racks. Dresses draped in bags were hung up and catalogued. Materials for repair were neatly kept in little bins and tubs. A desk was pushed into a corner.

Another door at the far side.

I ran for it, dragging Winter with me.

“She could still be alive.” Winter tried to get away.

She wanted to help Miss Aubrey. God, what a nice person.

A stupid, very freaking dumb person, but so good.

I must’ve been broken, because all I could think about was survival.

“Come on.” I pulled her to the door and yanked it open.

A closet.

Winter groaned. I shoved her inside, got in next to her, and yanked it shut.

Brooms and cleaning supplies were shoved in next to toilet paper and paper towels. I felt a spiderweb cling to my face.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Crime
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