Charming Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

“Not everyone accepted me as the new Oligarch,” I said, speaking quietly. I didn’t need to. Everyone remaining was loyal, even my mother, despite the way she acted.

“I heard there was some fighting.”

“The house fell apart. Half the soldiers and captains backed a second cousin and another third simply walked off the job. I had to kill my way into real control, and then I had to rebuild what I’d lost.”

“Must have been hard.” She still wouldn’t look at me.

That was fine. I liked the curve of her neck and the shape of her lips. I watched her profile like a man studying a masterpiece.

“I didn’t enjoy killing people in my own family.”

“Then why did you do it?”

I looked out over the grass, along the landscaping, and toward the pool. A lone circular float painted to look like a donut drifted along the unseen currents. Mel must’ve left it there from earlier in the day. I remembered playing in that pool as a child with all my cousins. We were close back then, before we understood what we were supposed to be one day. Mel wasn’t even born yet—she’d come much later, after I was already jaded toward the world. Back then, things were simple.

So much changed. I grew up. My cousins learned to despise me for being the oldest and the first in line for the throne. I learned to hate them and fear them in equal measure—my father made sure of it. He didn’t want me to have friends or any close relationships. Any of them can stab you in the back, boy, don’t you forget it. Old Bern kept me focused on my future and the empire above all else, and never left me a moment to be a person.

“It’s all I’ve ever known. That’s like asking a fish why it swims.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“Why do you want power then?”

Her lips tensed. I liked that angry face. My mother called her plain, but I thought Erin was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was so expressive, despite how hard she worked to keep herself controlled. Every line of her face was its own story, and I reveled in the shape of her shoulders and the long line of her back. She woke something inside of me the moment I first saw her, and when I learned what her mind was like, I couldn’t help myself.

I had to have her.

“The Oligarchs have it all wrong.” She looked at me then and her expression was pure passion and fire. “They give the world to their firstborn sons like they’re kings, but that isn’t how it should be. The most deserving and the smartest should become the Oligarchs, not the oldest.”

I laughed, tilting my head. “You’re doing this because you think you deserve it more?”

“You’re damn right I do. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I spread my hands in a peace gesture. “I don’t think anyone’s worthy of the power we’re given.”

“Spoken like a first-born son.”

I laughed and moved closer. “Do you know why I brought you here?”

“No, I don’t.” She tilted her chin up to meet my eyes. “I’ve been wondering.”

“I wanted you to see this. Your future. I wanted you to meet Mel and my mother, and to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Me.” I moved closer. She backed up, pinning herself to the railing. “I’m barely holding the Orchard family together right now. We’re on the edge, Erin. But if we join together, with Maeve’s power and your brilliant mind, we can build something incredible.”

She chewed on her lip. “I don’t care about the Orchards. I only care about making my own way.”

“Then don’t worry about the name. Worry about what you can do with it.”

“Meeting your family doesn’t make me like you anymore.”

“But it might make you understand that I’m not just doing this for myself.” I touched her cheek and she flinched back. “Although that’s part of it. I’m doing this for everyone under my protection. The staff, my sister, my mother. Everyone that trusts me and supports me. I want you, Erin, and I want what you can bring into my world.”

“And I’m doing this for myself. I guess we’re both selfish.”

She tried to push past, but I pinned her wrists and shoved her back. She gasped, glaring at me, and I held her there. My lips moved along the length of her throat, up to her chin, and stopped.

“I don’t think it’s selfishness that drives you. I think it’s self-preservation.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One only cares about taking more and growing stronger, and the other’s desperate to survive. I think you’re desperate.”

She growled in anger and twisted her arms. “Let go of me.”

I kissed her neck. “No.”

“You asshole. You don’t know me.”

“I think you’re struggling to keep your head above water.”

“Fuck you.”

I kissed her hard. She growled angrily, bit my lip. I kissed her again, pulling her against my body and releasing her wrists. She shoved me back and glared, breathing hard, lips swollen and perfect, mouth open, chest rising and falling with ever hard, fast breath.