Vicious Proposal: A Dark Mafia Romance

“How much did you read?”

I shrugged and decided to drop the act. Pushing her was only fun to a point. “All of it, though your handwriting is a mess.”

“I hope you struggled.”

“I didn’t.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay?” She tugged on her backpack’s shoulder straps for emphasis. “I’m researching my mother’s side of the family, that’s all. I don’t know anything about them.”

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

She stopped and glared. “What do you know?”

“Nothing,” I said, smiling. “Though I’ve met your uncle a few times.”

“Is he tangled up with your dirty web?”

“Something like that, although I take offense to your characterization.”

“I almost feel bad.” She glanced to the side as a group of people hustled past and moved closer. “Tell me what you know about him.”

“Over dinner.”

She snorted and began walking again. “I’ll pass, but thanks.”

“How much do you know about your mother’s family?”

“Less than I’d like.”

“I can unlock doors for you. I can make introductions.”

“And what will it cost me?”

“Does it always have to be about that?”

“With Oligarchs?” She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, always.”

It was a fair characterization. In all my time living among the Oligarchs, I’d never seen them do anything unless it profited them. I loved my adopted parents—they saved my life and dragged me from a miserable, worthless existence. They gave me meaning, comfort, safety, and love.

But even they demanded a return for their investment.

The others were the same. Silvano, Liam, even Griffin, though he pretended he was above the murk and the mess. Their networks needed to be fed, money and information and power, and the only way to keep the wheel spinning was through growth, constant and impossible growth. I understood why Silvano wanted to expand east, even if he knew it would mean war.

Only I had to believe there could be a better way.

“You’re right,” I said softly, forcing her to come closer to hear me over the clatter and conversations happening all around us. Other young students made their way to the various class buildings, and I drifted among them like a wolf. I smiled with teeth and made all the right gestures, but I wasn’t like them, and never would be.

Same went for her, as much as she wanted to pretend.

“So what’s the price? Think I’ll be willing to pay?”

“I hope so. Come find out at dinner.”

“I already turned you down.”

“Reconsider. It’s one meal. If my proposal doesn’t interest you then we’ll part ways and never speak again.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You’ll stop following me around?”

“I will, yes.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“I give you my word, and if there’s one thing I don’t do lightly, it’s make promises.” I gazed at her and stopped, grabbing her wrist. I held it and pressed my fingers into the soft skin at the base of her palm, wanting her to know that I wasn’t joking, that when I swore to something, I’d do it or die trying.

I rarely made such oaths, but I had to have a limit to my lies.

“Fine,” she said, tugging herself away. A few upperclassmen nearby stared with deep frowns, like they wanted to come intervene on her behalf. I almost wanted the children to try. “One dinner. I’ll listen, then we’re finished.”

“Perfect. Which dorm are you in?”

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t followed me home already.” She stormed off.

“See you at seven,” I called after her and she waved a middle finger in the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” I said softly, grinning while students spilled around me, like I was a pebble in the stream.

My smile faded and I turned away.

I spotted Melanie’s bodyguard, the blonde woman Palmira, standing near a copse of bushes fifty feet away. She watched me with predatory eyes and I nodded to her, dropping my friendly facade. She’d see through it anyway, and I wanted her on my side. She would be trouble if I didn’t find a way to win her over or to neutralize her, and I had a feeling she wouldn’t be easy to kill if it came to that.

Killing, violence, death. I brushed my hands on my pants and wandered toward the parking lot. So much of my life revolved around the cessation of breath. The more power I accrued, the more people I had to bend to my will. I was never easy at the top, and sometimes I thought my father cursed me with this job. My mother said he wanted me to take over for him more than anything, but I wasn’t so sure.

Those final days were hard. He was a mess in the end. Emaciated and in pain. The cancer spread and it spread fast. He was a giant in my memory, a monster of a man, a massive laugh and a sharp wit with fists like battering rams. But the man I held as he died, that man was very different from the one that plucked me from obscurity and gave me purpose. I didn’t know what he wanted, and never would.