Vicious Proposal: A Dark Mafia Romance - Page 15

I leaned back in my chair, exhausted. Between researching my family and trying to pass all my classes, I was burning out. I was a rocket on the last bit of my fuel, and eventually youth and coffee wouldn’t sustain me anymore. I’d come crashing back to Earth. I closed my eyes and let out a breath.

When I opened them again, I saw the shadow move.

I froze. Nobody else was around. A study group had the private room nearby, but their door was shut, and they hadn’t come out. I inched my chair back, trying to look into the stacks, but didn’t see anybody. I’d chosen this table on purpose—it was one of the most secluded in the whole building.

Another movement. I stood suddenly, heart racing. A book fell from the shelf and hit the floor with a loud thud. I jumped, covering my mouth to keep from screaming.

Nervosa stepped out from the darkness and smiled.

“Sorry about that,” he said, stooping over to pick up the fallen book. “I’m not as stealthy as I used to be.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” I hissed, hands over my racing heart. “Jesus, Nervosa. Where have you been?”

“Busy,” he said, paging through before putting it back. “Life of an Oligarch.”

“Some mafioso kill someone and you had to clean up a mess? Or were you busy bribing some politicians to pass a law you wanted?”

“All of the above and more,” he said, leaning against the end of the shelf. “What about you? Having fun playing student?”

“I’m not playing.” I sat back down, refusing to get drawn into this pointless argument. “Why are you here?”

“I thought I’d check in with you. See if you’d considered my proposal some more.” He drifted over, wearing tight jeans and a black shirt with a deep neckline. His tattoos peeked out, colorful and varied, and I wondered how long he’d sat still beneath a needle, enduring pain for the art on his skin.

“I thought about it. And then you disappeared for a few weeks.”

“Are you jealous?”

“What could I possibly have to be jealous of?”

“Oh, you know. My various obligations. Do you need more attention?”

“Don’t be a bastard.”

He grinned, head tilted. “Come on. What do you say? Take me to meet your brother.”

“Take you? I thought I was a liaison.”

“This sounds more interesting. I’d rather talk to him in person.”

“Nervosa—” I said, but he held up a hand.

“I have information he wants,” he said quietly and leaned closer. “I can’t risk sending it to him. I need to speak in person, where I know we won’t be overheard.”

I chewed on my lip. “What kind of information?”

“Manufacturing locations. That’s all I’ll say.”

I leaned back, arms crossed, studying him. Nervosa almost looked like a student, except for the killer glint in his eye and the way he held himself, like he believed everything was his for the taking, if only he reached out his hand to scoop it into his palm. I envied and hated that. It seemed like everyone in the Oligarch families learned how to be haughty and confident except for me.

“Introduce me to my uncle first, then I’ll bring you to speak with my brother.”

He held out a hand. “You’ve got a deal, love.”

I grimaced, shaking. “Don’t call me that again.”

“Whatever you want, baby girl.”

I shook my head, pushing his hand away. “Even worse.”

“When do you want to go?”

“Soon. I don’t know.” I looked down at my notebook. He followed my gaze, and I snapped it shut. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“Take a few more days,” he said quietly. “Looks like you’ve made some progress. Looking into IM’s business dealings?”

“Hard to find much. They don’t file often.”

“Private companies are like that.” He trailed a finger down my notebook. “I can find out more, if you want. I have people.”

“What kind of people?”

“The sort that can dig without getting caught.”

“I’m not sure I want to give you even more leverage over me.”

“Consider this a favor, or a part of our deal.”

“No, thanks. I don’t need more.”

“Okay, if you say so.” He pushed back from the table and stood. “You know, I love coming here. The library on campus is so quiet. The vibe’s not great, though.”

“Sorry you don’t like the vibe.”

He picked up my pen and flipped it around his fingers, making it dance with ease. “It’s the anxiety. You can taste it in the air. All these students obsessing about grades, about succeeding. There’s so much pressure and they’re all on the edge of cracking.” He caught the pen firmly in his fist. “Except for you. Why is that?”

“I’m playing student, remember? It’s not real.”

“Maybe. Or maybe your reason for being here has nothing to do with your education.”

“You caught me. I’m so impressed. I’ve never met someone with such a sharp mind before.”

He laughed and it sounded so natural. It seemed strange that a man like Nervosa, so scarred and odd and intense, could put me at ease like this. His lips quirked, and he watched me carefully, noting my every movement. And I didn’t mind in the slightest.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Erotic
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