Consumed by Desire: A Dark Mafia Romance

“Fat chance of that,” I say, shaking my head. “I think right now I’d rather see you and Danil tear each other to pieces. I wouldn’t mind being a young widow.”

He smirks as if that doesn’t bother him. “It would be good for everyone if you acted as liaison. I’m finding it difficult to get Danil to talk, but maybe he’ll be interested if you’re the one reaching out.”

“Let me understand something. You drag me into this mafia world, force me to marry you, rip me from my life, try to make me forget all the brutal and nasty shit you did to me ten years ago, and now you want a favor? Casso, please go jump off a fucking cliff.”

His smile is like a whiff of perfume in a crowded room. He keeps staring at the sky like he’s seeing something in the stars, but there’s nothing, only twinkling lights and ancient pictographs that amount to only superstition. If the sky held answers, people would’ve found them by now. It’s like he can’t bring himself to look at me, like he’s afraid of what he might see.

“We can work together, you know. There’s something you want and I am in a unique position to give it to you.”

I go very still. I’m hyperaware of my breathing and my legs and the cold wine bottle against my skin and the alcohol in my stomach building into a warm gentle haze and Casso’s bulky form, his muscles, his tattoos, his warmth. I’m aware of it all and my brain’s doing a slow-motion spin like it can’t get into gear.

“You want to make a deal?” I ask after several beats of quiet.

He nods once. “Yes, I think we can work something out.”

“I help with the Russians and you help find who killed my brother.” I lean closer. “Is that about it?” My heart’s racing and my palms are sweating and I should know better than to go down this road. “What’s the catch?”

“Don’t make this hard, Olivia. You always have to make it hard.”

“No, Casso. I want to make you honest.”

“You help me with Danil and I’ll try to find out who did your brother. I can’t make promises, and I won’t step in to hurt or punish whoever it was, but I can offer you that small measure of closure, at least knowing who pulled the trigger. That’s what I’m offering, and I have a feeling you’ll take it. Because what else do you have?”

I grind my teeth. The bastard can read my thoughts sometimes like I’m an open book. “I could turn you down. I don’t need you.”

“You could. But you won’t. We both know you’re the practical type.”

I hug my knees to my chest and don’t move, mulling over his offer. It would make my life easier if I could swallow my pride and work with him—he’s the Don of the Famiglia, meaning he can simply order his men to find out who pulled the trigger on my brother. But the idea of it makes my stomach twist with shame, and all I want to do is scream into the desert, scream until my throat’s raw at the injustice of all this.

Trusting Casso is a mistake. I should know by now that Casso rarely does as he says and says what he actually wants to do, which means there’s something more to this story that he’s not telling me.

And yet I’m tempted. God, it’s stupid, but what else do I have right now?

“Do you remember the way you used to treat me back in the day?” I stare at the rock, trying hard not to look at him, because if I meet his gaze, I might break down.

“I remember.”

“You were an asshole. You used to find me in the halls and shove me against the lockers. You planted rumors, you stole my books, you even tried to convince Mr. Lockerty to fail me. Remember that?”

“I told him you cheated on a test. He nearly believed me until he remembered that I was two grades ahead and couldn’t possibly know anything about it.” He laughs softly to himself. “And yet none of that compares to what you did.”

I close my eyes and see the smirking young Casso with his perfect hair and his straight white teeth. He was a shark roaming the halls of Miller Academy taking what he wanted and doing as he wished, and nobody was brave or stupid enough to say a damn thing except for me. I called him on his bullshit over and over again, told him to his face what I thought of him and worse, and he didn’t let me forget it for one minute. He’d pull my hair and steal my money and he cut the straps of my backpack so many times I had to bring a needle and thread with me to school just to sew it back together. He was a hurricane threatening to upend my life at any moment, and I lived in constant, total fear.