Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance

“You’re sick.”

She turned and walked away.

Kaspar kept coming. I tripped over an old stone from the wall and nearly fell. As I gathered myself and turned to run, he was suddenly there, right on top of me.

“No,” I gasped as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me against him.

Big, broad chest. Warm skin. He smelled like cinnamon and grass seed. He held me tight then wrenched my wrist up behind my back. I gasped in pain.

He moved his lips toward mine.

I tried to pull away. It was agony. “I don’t want this,” I said, shaking my head. “Let me go, Kaspar.”

He moved down and kissed my neck.

“It’s okay, my treasure. When you wake up, you’ll be safe.”

Then he plunged a needle with his other hand into the opposite side of my neck. His lips never left my skin as he pushed something into my bloodstream.

I tried to struggle. He took the needle out. I blinked rapidly as the world dimmed.

“Kaspar,” I whispered. “You bastard.”

“I’ll catch you when you fall.”

His words were like honey and hellfire.

I fell into black.