Destructive King (Mafia Royals 3)

“I won’t let you down, sir.” I held my head high all day. This was my chance to prove to the bosses I could take down our enemies without bloodshed, using my cousins as bait—I’d earn my reputation as ruthless—and I’d outsmart even the most genius enemy.

I’d almost been cocky about it.

Until I saw the dress.

Until I saw the hurt in her eyes.

Until I noticed the way she tried to tug her dress down like it was indecent—which it was, but only because I was so distracted.

I almost missed the hotel valet completely, then really did snap when I saw Annie texting.

Was it Tank?

Had he seen her yet?

Fuck!

I hadn’t meant to be short with her, I just—I felt like I’d been on the edge of this cliff, waiting to fall for her waiting for some sort of heavenly permission to feel again, and now something snapped in me.

It felt right.

And yet, the timing was all wrong when it shouldn’t have been.

Had I earned her trust—really earned it, she’d know this was a ruse, that there was more, so much more than the surface, than the parts we played.

But she’d been in Italy.

And I’d been a giant dick ninety-nine percent of the time drowning so heavily in my own pain that I never got a chance to tell her.

This was the job.

My job.

I wasn’t just the assassin; I was the arrogant son of a bitch son to Chase Abandonato; I had the world at my fingertips—and expected my subjects to bow.

Because the only thing worse than showing weakness.

Is showing strength.

It makes your enemies that much more angry and willing to take you down at any cost—even if it meant their own lives.

I tossed my key to the valet and then pulled a crisp hundred dollar bill out of my pocket and shoved it into his hand. Then I patted him on the cheek. “There’s more where that came from.”

As promised, the press was waiting outside the main doors to the lobby. I wrapped an arm around a tense Annie and grinned at them. “Just can’t stay away from me, can you?” I kissed the top of Annie’s head. “Guess our secrets out then, huh sweetheart?”

Her stunned expression was priceless. Had I not been sick to my stomach over the way I was treating her, I might laugh.

I waved my hand away. “Sorry guys, private party tonight, no press.”

“Ash!” A woman yelled my name. “Who’s the girl? Is it too soon after your girlfriend’s death? It’s only been over a year!”

Annie tensed, then clung to me like I was her human shield.

“Too soon?” I snorted. “It’s never too soon to fuck.” I squeezed Annie tight and kissed her neck. Her shocked expression was absolute kryptonite for the cameras as they fired off and started lobbing more questions at us than I could answer.

I slid my hand down to her ass only to have her elbow me in the gut. I laughed and gave her a stern look, then continued walking her into the private restaurant we’d blocked off for the night.

Champagne was flowing.

Quite literally coming from a champagne tower down the middle. A giant black and white cake sat over next to the bar where associates and our “friends” walked around and toasted to the mafia queen.

Serena had a black crown on.

It fit her well.

And how Junior was able to be wearing all black while carrying around a red scepter that doubled as a blade was beyond me.

The theme was gothic chic.

And they worked the crowd like they’ve always done at Eagle Elite.

Make them want.

Make them crave.

Make them bow.

Mere mortals didn’t hold a candle to our influence, money, power, and just being in that room meant you had a chance.

Small.

But it was there.

You were rubbing shoulders with us.

The excitement in the room was like a drug as the music picked up in the background, Kaleo, Way Down We Go pumped through the system.

I took a glass of champagne and downed it, remembering my dad’s two drink rule. The rest of the night, I’d have tonic and lime and appear to be drunk.

There was a bottle of gin back there that was just sparkling water.

Lucky me… because with the way Annie looked, I could really use a drink.

Izzy waved her over, gave her a wink, and I felt her pull away from me.

“Not a chance,” I hissed. “Or have you forgotten?” I snickered in her ear. “I licked you—you’re mine.”

“You asshole!” Annie jerked away from me, tears filled her eyes, and then they narrowed in on me, really saw me.

I met her stare with one of my own.

People were watching me.

They always did.

Even if this was about Junior and Serena’s engagement—I was the assassin, I was the one they wanted; arrogant, weak.

So I grabbed another glass of champagne and downed it while holding Annie captive, her large blue eyes calculating in a way I’d never seen before.