The Killer's Fake Bride (Possessive Dark Mafia)

Which surprised me. I didn’t realize it was that kind of party. And suddenly I understood why no blood members of the Healy family came to parties like this. Nobody wanted to be getting down and dirty with some stranger, only to realize it’s Cousin Jessica or whatever.

More of the onlookers began to join once the ice was broken. I didn’t recognize most of them, but I knew a few were important to the Healy family.

My guy wasn’t there yet. Not Sean—he was dead as hell. I was looking for a real lieutenant, a guy that went by Cullen. He was a young man, up and coming, with a scar next to his right lip and lots of tattoos. He was distinctive and I’d recognize him anywhere, but he wasn’t in the rapidly expanding orgy, and he wasn’t in the audience.

Bodies writhed on the pillows. Cocks, tits, ass, lots of places to fuck.

I moved deeper into the house. The people hanging around toward the kitchen spoke to each other in quiet tones and more of them ignored all the fucking going on, even though one girl was particularly loud, like actually screaming as if someone was killing her.

Which was possible, but unlikely.

I got the sense that most of these people had seen this all before.

Cullen was nowhere to be seen. I grabbed a glass of champagne from a girl wearing a catering outfit, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she thought of the burgeoning orgy. Maybe she wanted to join in, but I sort of doubted it, based on the number of out-of-shape and hairy dudes fucking vaguely bored-looking girls.

I lingered on the edges of the group and scanned the crowd again—and then spotted her.

Over toward the back left corner, not talking to anyone. Dark red hair, big green eyes, pretty pale skin. She looked at the orgy like it was the most fascinating and the most horrifying thing she’d ever seen. She drank in quick sips from her wine glass and I guessed she was in her early twenties at most. Pretty, very pretty, wearing a tight blue dress that made her eyes seem even brighter and clung to her hips and breasts in a way that suggested she belonged out in the middle of those pillows, but would never go near something like that.

I drifted over, unable to help myself.

“You look as lost as I feel,” I said softly as I approached.

She looked up sharply. Confusion passed over her expression before she gave me a guarded smile. “How can you tell?”

I shrugged and stood next to her. The party shifted slightly as more people entered, forcing my shoulders to brush against hers.

“Just the way you’re watching whatever that is,” I said, nodding to the orgy. “You look like you’d rather gnaw off a leg than get involved.”

She grinned up at me. “Actually, I was thinking about joining in.”

“Then I might have to come with you.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I’m kidding. That’s not really my scene.”

“It’s not mine, either. I’m more of a one woman at a time sort of man. Call me old fashioned.”

“In this day and age? That’s practically medieval.”

“Really, it’s selfish. I want what I want, and I want it all to myself.”

She gave me a thoughtful little smile and sipped from her drink. “What’s your name?”

“Matteo. What’s yours?”

“Sam.” She extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Matteo.”

I shook it. She had smooth skin and a firm grip. I liked that in a woman. “What brings you here tonight?” I asked.

“Family business,” she said. “I tried to get out of it, but—” She shrugged. “What about you?”

“I killed to get in here, but I’m not so sure how I feel about it now.” I showed her my teeth.

She laughed and nodded a little. “I’ve never come to one of these before, but I knew this happened. It’s sort of an open secret, right? I’m still a little scandalized seeing it though.”

“Scandalized? Look at you.”

She blushed. “What can I say? I’m a little repressed.”

“I very much doubt that. There’s nothing repressed about not wanting to get up in that sweaty mess.”

“I know, but still. By the standards of the family, I’m practically a nun.”

“Well, sister, I doubt there are many nuns that look like you.”

She snorted. “That’s a terrible line.”

“And yet I mean every word. You’d look good in a habit.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, grinning. “I think you just have a weird nun fetish.”

“Not at all. I’ll admit that I’m imagining one of those sexy nun habits you’d wear on Halloween and not the real thing.”

“Oh, right, now it makes more sense. And please stop picturing me in one of those.”

I pursed my lips and looked her up and down. “One second.”

“Stop,” she said, laughing, and nudged me.

“Whatever you say.” I glanced away from her, despite wanting to stare at her the whole night, and scanned the crowd again.