Promised to the Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

“I’m not telling you how you feel, princess. I’m telling you how I feel. You’re not my whore. I didn’t bring you here to use you like that.”

“Then why is your hand pulling my hair?”

“Because whenever I do, your lips fall open like you want me to bite them.”

“I don’t want that at all.”

“You’re a bad liar. You were excited when I sent you those texts, weren’t you?”

“I was scared.”

I smirk and stare into her eyes. “If that’s what you call scared, then I want you fucking terrified, princess.” I hold her tighter and she gazes back, her teeth biting down on her lower lip, before I release her. I picture those lips wrapped around the tip of my cock and a deep, dark desire rolls down my spine like a hurricane.

I’m not going to survive much longer with this girl.

She steps away, blushing like crazy. I can tell she wants to say something, and I think about those texts. She was flirting with me, and I couldn’t help but flirt back. I released all my pent-up desire, all my need and want, and my heart-juddering passion in those messages. She seemed to like them until she stopped responding.

I won’t overanalyze. It doesn’t matter what she wants. Neither of us have much of say in this situation anymore. If we don’t move forward, she’ll end up back in those whorehouses, and I’ll be punished by my father for misleading him. I need to come up with a solution and quickly, before my time runs out.

And my first step is simple.

I turn from her and give her some space.

“Get dressed,” I say, gesturing at the bags. “Find something decent. We’re going for a walk with my mother.”

She lets out a surprised laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking. Mother wants to speak with you and she can be a very big help if we can convince her that we’re—” I hesitate, not sure if I can say it.

“If we’re what?”

“You know. Thinking about getting married.” My hands clench into fists. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just say the word? It’s not like they’re true.

“That’s not what you were going to say.”

I look at my hands. She’s right. I can’t meet her eye, but I pull in a breath. Since when did I become a fucking coward? I kill men for a living. I break their knees. I cut their throats. And I can’t even say this to a woman?

“I was going to say, we have to convince her that we’re in love.”

“In love,” she repeats, like a ghostly echo. “You want to lie to your mother?”

“As much as it pains me, yes. I’m trading a little dishonesty for your life. Unless you’d rather I didn’t?”

“No,” she says.

I finally look up. She’s tugging at her hair, pulling and smoothing it nervously.

“That’s the first step. Convince my mother we’re in love. Then she’ll help me convince my father that we can get married. Once we’re married, you’ll be safe from your father, and my deal with him will be binding.”

“And then what?” she asks quietly. “We have a hundred little bratva babies?”

“That’s the idea.”

“What if I don’t want children?”

I close my eyes. I was afraid of this. Terrified, actually. So much is expected of me as the heir to the family, and if I make one mistake, one slip-up, I can lose everything. My position is tenuous, and I need Siena to play my game now or she can drag me under and drown me in the cold depths.

“Do you?” I ask, not sure if I want to know, but needing to ask anyway.

A long pause. “Yes. I want kids. Lots of kids, actually. But that’s not the point.”

I can’t help the relieved smile that slips onto my lips. “I knew you were a mafia princess at heart.”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“We can worry about what our life will be like after getting married later. For now, we need to survive this ordeal.”

She glares at me, but she nods. “Fine. We’ll survive.”

“Good. Get dressed. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

She rifles through the bags while I make a drink. I sip my vodka and she disappears into my bedroom with half her wardrobe slung over her arms.

What am I going to do about this girl?

Marriage and love and children.

She’s more or less a total stranger. We have a powerful chemistry, but it’s twisted by our mutual dislike for this situation. That first night keeps playing in my mind, over and over, and I wonder if she’s going to be the death of me.

Everything is so dangerous already. Add Siena into the equation?

I’m not sure I can keep it all together.

But I’ll try. I’ll do whatever it takes, no matter the price.

If we’re supposed to convince my mother that we’re in love with each other, it helps that Siena chose to look absolutely stunning. I can’t stop looking at her, and my mother catches me staring at my mistress more than once.