Charming Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

“I know I can.” She flashed a rare smile then was gone.

Erin, Erin, Erin. My perfect Erin.

How could she give herself to that Orchard scum? That sick, horrible bastard?

I hated him more than I’d ever hated a man in my life.

I wanted him dead.

I wouldn’t let her give in to this deal. She wouldn’t sell herself like a common street whore. I’d pull her from the gutter and save her.

I’d slit that Oligarch shit’s throat and watch him beg for mercy.

There would be no mercy.

Erin, Erin, Erin.

I smelled her everywhere. I breathed deep, taking it in.

Chapter 5

Erin

The Orchard Estate was in a massive compound tucked into the shadow of the Colorado mountains. The air was thin and I wasn’t used to it, but I didn’t let my discomfort show.

Chika drove the Range Rover up a steep incline and stopped outside of black iron gates. They rolled back and we crept forward, past ancient aspen trees, and toward a house that was half carved into the living mountainside. Fresh spring water flowed down rocks, and I sucked in a breath, surprised at the place’s natural beauty.

I didn’t imagine an Oligarch would live in a place like this. It looked like a Frank Lloyd Wright house, a combination of mid-century aesthetic with natural features. The roof was flat, and the front facade was wood and glass, with lots of natural light and brick. Chika parked the Rover and I pushed open the door, stepping out.

Redmond came down the front steps with a smile on his face.

I felt a chill run down my arms. I wished I’d brought more men, and had to remind myself that Chika was more than capable. She gathered the bags, scowling the whole time.

“I’m glad you made it,” Redmond said.

“I took a red-eye from Chicago to be here and you still haven’t explained why.”

His smile broke across his face like lightning over a forest. “I wanted you to see where you’d be living once we were married.”

I refused to let him see my anger. I kept my face composed. “That sounds like a waste of time. You haven’t kept your end of the bargain yet.”

He waved that off as if killing all my rivals was no big thing. And for him, it might not be.

“Come inside. I want you to meet everyone.”

I hesitated, but followed. The interior was much the same as the outside—spacious and bright, with more mid-century furniture and paintings and several Jackson Pollock pieces I recognized from my art history phase when I was a teenager. Millions of dollars hung on the walls, and Redmond walked past it like it was nothing.

I followed, barely glancing around.

The Servant manor had been similar. All the Oligarchs lived in opulence. It was part of the game—show off strength by keeping precious baubles hanging on the walls. I was tempted to rip down a canvas and stomp it, if only to see how he’d react, but I didn’t trust myself when I was in his presence.

My brain was too quiet and I felt uneasy.

He led me into a kitchen. That woman from the car was there, stirring a pot. She glanced over her shoulder and grinned, showing white, straight teeth. Her powerful forearms flexed as she lifted the spoon to her lips and tasted a red sauce.

“Food will be ready shortly,” she said, winking. “It’s a good batch.”

“Thank you, Palmira. Say hello to our guest, please, and don’t be rude.”

Palmira waved. “Hello, guest.” She went back to stirring.

Redmond sighed and gestured me forward. We walked into an airy living room filled with plants, photographs of laughing, smiling people, none of whom I recognized, and a television mounted above a fireplace with a natural wood mantel.

A girl sat in a chair next to the fire. She was thin and pale with bright eyes and brown, bushy hair. She sat up as we stepped inside. I looked around for Chika—but she was gone.

House staff must have steered her away.

“Erin, I want you to meet my sister, Melanie.”

I stiffened and paused, midway past the couches. Melanie smiled at me rightly. She must’ve been no older than sixteen, with some baby fat still in her cheeks.

I had no clue she existed until right now. As far as I understood, Redmond was the only son of Old Bern.

But I let out a frustrated breath.

Only son. Nobody gave a damn about the daughters.

“Hello,” Melanie said. She stood awkwardly, arms hugging herself. She was gangly and tall, nearly the same height as her brother. I smiled as best I could and walked over to shake her hand warmly.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Redmond says you’re getting married.” Her eyes narrowed and her grip tightened. “Is it true? Are you really?”

I glanced back at him in surprise. “We haven’t decided yet.”

“Redmond’s such a bore. Really, you seem nice. You’re pretty. Why would you leash yourself to an idiot like him?”