Bratva Sinner (A Possessive Mafia Romance)

He stroked my fingers gently. “I don’t know yet. The blackmail idea is the stronger of the two, but I want to keep this other thing in play, just in case.”

I chewed my lip, looking at him, and felt the strangeness of the situation overwhelm me. Here I was at the table with my father’s killer, letting him touch my hand like he was my lover—which maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, I couldn’t tell just yet—and we were talking about pulling off some crazy job against the biggest, most terrifying mafia family in the city.

I didn’t know how we could possibly make it happen. And yet I wanted to try.

For so long, I flitted from day to day, scrambling just to make enough money to survive. I never thrived, never took a step out of my comfort zone, but here I was in the deep end swimming hard to keep my head above water. Yet I loved it, the danger and the uncertainty, it made me feel a buzz at the base of my spine, and it was all because of him.

I wasn’t safe—and yet he made me feel safe anyway. Luke had that effect on me, like he was a beacon in the dark, a lighthouse perched on a massive cliff keeping me from slamming into the rocks. I wanted to follow him wherever he went, and I didn’t know where that impulse came from, but it drove me hard.

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll help,” I said softly.

He tilted his head. “Why is that? Why the sudden chance?”

I pulled my hand away and looked down at the floor. “I’ve been thinking about my life a lot. I guess coming close to dying can do that.”

“And what did you realize?”

“Everything I did before was worthless.” I clenched my jaw. “Working all the time, cleaning the house, hustling to survive when my father inevitably came rolling through to fuck everything up, it was just existing. It wasn’t living.”

“You think this is living?” He sounded unsure, and I didn’t know what that meant.

“I think this is better than the alternative. Before I was just waiting around to get old and die, but now at least I feel like I’m doing something.” I looked back up at him and forced a grin on my lips. “Besides, I like the idea of making these rich asshole guys pay for being such sleazy bastards.”

He laughed and nodded slowly. “So long as your heart’s in the right place.” He stood up and walked over to me. I tilted my chin up to accept a kiss on the cheek, but didn’t let it go further. “I’ll speak with German and we’ll figure out the next move.”

I grabbed his hand before he could walk away. “You’re not leaving me behind.”

He hesitated. “It’s safer here, you know. Maybe you’ll come up with more ideas.”

I tightened my grip. “No, Luke. I’m not kidding. I’m not staying behind.”

He held my gaze and I didn’t look away. He could talk all he wanted about keeping me safe, but I wasn’t staying locked away through this whole thing. If I was going to be a part of it, I was going to be an active participant—not stuck in some stupid room like a useless piece of furniture, only good for a quick fuck and nothing else.

“All right then.” He nodded once and I let him go. “I won’t leave you behind.”

“Thank you.”

“Just know that I can’t guarantee nothing bad will happen. We got lucky already, and I don’t know how long that’s going to hold.”

“I have faith in you.”

His smile was tight, but he nodded and walked away.

I leaned back in my chair and looked up at the ceiling.

I didn’t know what I was becoming. A monster, a psycho. I was angry, definitely angry, and desperate to feel as alive as I possibly could—and he was the only way I could get anywhere near that. But the person I used to be was a shadow of what I thought I was becoming, and I didn’t know where this would all lead me.

It was terrifying and it was so exciting, I could barely contain myself.

13

Luke

I sipped an absurdly dark and strong coffee and leaned up against the brick wall of a fancy coffee spot downtown near the hospital. Cara stood next to me, pretending to look at her phone, while I scanned the crowd and all the people that came past. Men and women in suits on their way to work, young kids with backpacks, doctors and nurses hurrying on their way to a long shift, all sorts of people mixed together on the sidewalks. I loved the flow, the variation, the way no two people were ever exactly alike. I never got bored of people watching.

At least until I found my target. Jeff Bruner was a distinguished-looking man in his sixties with salt and pepper hair, sharp blue eyes, and an extremely slick and expensive business suit. He was the sort of man that walked into the room and tried to dominate it with a look—which mostly made him come off as a total asshole. I nudged Cara and nodded at him as he approached the coffee place and went inside.