Mafia Casanova

Tristian must have noticed. He cleared his throat next to us, simply saving my ass. She’d hit me; I knew it. It was one of the things I loved the most about her.

She was feisty.

Bitchy.

Always needing to have her voice heard and be put in her place.

Hence, why I made her cry often. Despite her dramatics and fucking temper tantrums, she always came back for more. I had that effect on women.

You want to know how to keep their panties wet and under your demand and control without them even knowing it?

Piss them off.

Ignore them.

But always do it with a grin.

There you go, you’re welcome.

Bringing my focus back to him, Tristian stated with pride in his tone, “Your father and the Capo just made this asshole his captain.”

Despite desperately longing to go from associate to made man, he didn’t have it in him. He was The Famiglia’s accountant, for fuck’s sake. All he saw was the glory behind the bloodshed. Men praising each other for the mentality of kill or be killed.

He never saw the lonely nights.

Showering the blood off your body.

Burning yet another suit because to keep it would criminalize you.

He didn’t see the demon I saw in the mirror every day, and I would die before letting him see just how much this life stole from you… bit by bit.

Piece by piece.

Until you were nothing but…

A soulless devil.CHAPTER TWO“We stop looking for monsters under the bed when we realize they’re inside us.” —Joker

Romeo

“He did?” Eden’s eyebrows furrowed, standing by the bar. “But…why?”

I placed my hand over my chest, feigning offense. “You wound me, fair maiden—”

“Oh, shut up.” She waved me off. “I mean you’re pretty, and I’m sure with all your experience you know how to tie a good knot or pretend to strangle someone, but come on, you barely have ten kills under your belt and—”

“Fifty-seven, but who’s counting?” I corrected. “It’s just a number, right? Double it, and it’s probably how many women I’ve fucked.”

She winced, quickly recovering. Knowing it didn’t matter, I saw it.

I saw everything.

Particularly when it came to her.

“I think it’s time to get extremely drunk. You in?”

She was still gaping at me like she didn’t even know me. Obviously, blown away with how many enemies I’d killed, or maybe it was how many women I made come on my cock. Either way, I needed to get away from her shame, and her judging stare burning a hole in my body.

“I’m gonna hit the restroom. Be right back.” Tristian, the fucking traitor, nearly ran in the opposite direction taking down an elderly couple in all his haste. He hated confrontation; again, he was just an accountant, for fuck’s sake.

I sighed and gazed after him. “Zero tact.”

“Absolutely none.” Eden shrugged. “It’s why he’s so charming.”

“Wait, him?” I pointed in the general direction of the bathrooms. “My older brother? Charming? Are you already drunk?” I pressed my hand to her forehead only to feel the prick of a knife against my favorite part of my six-pack. “Do it, I dare you.”

“I’ve done it before.” She jerked her hand away and sighed. “And yes, if you must know, I think he’s charming. He’s—” she lifted a shoulder in a weak shrug “—he’s different, you know? Not jaded yet, there’s no darkness in him, not like…” Her voice caught.

“Me? Is that what you were going to say?”

“Look at you, Romeo.” Her voice lowered. “Fifty-seven kills at the age of twenty-one? Is that the life you pictured for yourself? You could have been a model, an actor, a firefighter.”

“You do realize you named literally every occupation that has good-looking guys, right? Is that your type, Eden? You want a hero? What exactly is he saving you from? Because from what I know about the woman standing in front of me, she’s as ruthless as the man staring back at her. So please, enlighten me on what part of you is a damsel in distress.”

She rolled her eyes. “My point is, you’re in this world now, just like my dad, just like me…and there is no going back; I’ll have to marry for convenience, not love. Like I’m some fucking trophy in the name of mafia life. But Tristian, he’s still semi-normal compared to us. It’s refreshing; he wants no part of what you do on the daily. Taking lives and fucking women isn’t his M.O.”

“And who says it’s mine?”

“I do.”

“Since when are you the authority on who I am and what I do?”

She put her hands up in a surrendering gesture. “I’m not trying to offend you. I didn’t think you would care if people called you a killer.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I care if you do.”

She scoffed out a chuckle. “I find that hard to believe. You get off on the power, Romeo. It’s blatant and easy to see. You love that women fall at their feet for you.”