Broken by Sin: A Dark Mafia Romance

He’s so big and so terrifying. He took down Rinaldo like it was nothing, and Rinaldo’s a hardened killer.

So why aren’t I afraid of him?

“Come on, princess. No more bullshit. Say what you want to say.”

I bite my lip. Can I really do this? Now, so soon after the attack? I’ve barely stitched myself back together.

His gaze, his body, his magnetic presence. I hate him for the way he treats me, but I need him so badly right now. He can save me. He can keep me from being sent away.

But what will I give up if I speak these words?

“Go ahead,” he says, his voice rough and low and insistent. “I know what you want. Say it.”

“Marry me,” I whisper.

He steps closer. I don’t step back. He looms over me, a frightening monstrosity, and we’re inches apart. He could grab my hair if he wanted to and kiss me, and I’m not sure I’d stop him.

He seethes, anger rolling off him in waves.

“Say it again.”

“Marry me.” It comes off as a strangled choke. For the first time, I wonder if this was a mistake.

But his eyes burn into mine. There’s hatred in there, pure and simple loathing—but so much more.

All the complicated feelings stuck inside my chest reflected back in the twist of his lips.

“You know how I feel about you.”

“I know. I feel the same way. But I need you anyway.”

His jaw tightens and works, like he’s holding himself back. We stay there for what seems like an age as he studies me like a fighter sizing up his foe. I’m burning at the stake for him and I’m desperate for his mouth, his tongue, his anything at all, and just as the silence nearly drives me to insanity—

He shakes his head once.

“No.”

My mouth falls open and my world tilts to the side.

I never actually thought he’d turn me down, but there it is.

He steps past me and starts back to the house as my own anger flares. That excitement, that desire, it’s replaced with blind fury.

How dare he draw me out? How dare he force me to ask, not once, but twice—and still humiliate me like this? After what happened today, he should at least be gentle and kind.

But there’s nothing gentle or kind about Nico, that bastard, and all at once I’m reminded of why I dislike him so damn much.

“No?” I say, whirling around. “No? Are you kidding me, no? That’s all you have to say?”

“That’s all, princess.” He finishes his drink with his back to me. “You asked me to marry you and I said no. That’s the end.”

“You fucking prick. You know I need this.”

“You need it. I don’t.”

“Why make me say it twice then?”

His back muscles ripple like he’s resisting something. “Call it weakness.”

“Weakness? You’re a bastard.”

“You want me to save you a second time, but I’m not interested. You got your one get-out-of-jail free card. There’s nothing else in me for you.”

My hands shake with anger. I can’t believe this is happening. I worked myself up to this, embarrassed and debased myself to ask him that insane question, and he’s simply saying no.

I want to throw up or scream at him.

I can’t decide which.

Maybe both. That’d be terrifying.

He shakes his head and his shoulders ripple with tension. I glare at him and wish he’d throw himself in the pool and drown.

“Go find someone else, princess. I’m not your savior.”

He walks inside and the door shuts behind him.

I stare after it before turning and marching over to the jacket he left on the chair. I grab it and scream as I throw it in the pool. It floats on the surface then sinks down into the depths.

It doesn’t make me feel better.

I stooped so low and asked Nico, Nico, to marry me, and he had the nerve to turn me down. That bastard, that asshole.

I’m finished.

Papa’s going to send me to Dallas and I’ll marry the Russian.

I collapse onto a chair and sob, feeling so foolish and stupid and alone.

Chapter 11

Nico

Will you marry me?

I keep hearing those words again and again.

Will you marry me? Will you marry me?

Like it’s some kind of sick joke.

Mocking and absurd.

I shift lower in the passenger seat of Casso’s Range Rover. He quietly watches the single-story house across the street and says nothing as he stares at it like his gaze might light the roof on fire. We’re in a quiet but cheap neighborhood far to the south of downtown. Lots of browns and reddish hues all over.

I try to focus, but it’s impossible.

What was she thinking, asking me that?

Will you marry me?

She doesn’t understand what she nearly unleashed. As soon as the words left her lips, it was like a horde of fireflies flashed across my vision and fire ants tore down my skin. She lit me up, brightened me, awakened something deep inside—something dark and very, very hungry.