Promised to the Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

Emmie promises Siena will love it, and I trust her. The ring’s shiny and nice as far as I can tell.

I shove it into my sock drawer. Not the cleverest of hiding places, but I only need to keep it there for another day. Mother said she’d talk to Father tomorrow morning, and then I’ll propose once it’s settled.

Assuming Father doesn’t cut my throat and bleed me like a pig.

Siena comes out of the shower. She’s wrapped in a towel and her hair’s dripping wet, and she looks perfect. I stare at her and she smiles as she rifles through one of the drawers I gave her, looking for something to wear. “What are you staring at, you big weirdo? You’re smiling like you’ve never seen me before.”

“That’s exactly right,” I say, standing. I go over to her and pin her back against the wall. I kiss her, slow and deep, and I wonder—is this what being happy feels like? Because I’ve never felt this way before, not once in my life.

I feel good. Like a warmth is spreading through my hands and toes. I feel content and complete. Like I don’t need to prove myself anymore.

“Easy, tiger,” she says, pushing me away with a laugh. “As much as I’d like to get ravished right now, I’m a bit sore from earlier and we have dinner in a half hour. So get it together, big guy.”

“Can’t help myself when you walk around dripping wet like that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sorry, I’ll refrain from showering while you’re around since you can’t control yourself.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that. I am a base and simple man, and I am unable to control my lesser instincts.”

“You’re an animal at heart, Maxim. It’s so obvious. You’re a big, horny, Russian bear.”

“What does that make you?”

“A zookeeper.” She grins, kisses me, and grabs underwear, shorts, and a t-shirt before running into the bathroom.

I watch her go, smiling like an idiot.

When did this happen? It feels like a second ago, we hated each other. There’d always been lust between us—but that lust was tinged with anger and fear.

Now it’s only happiness.

How did this happen, and how can I make sure it’ll never go away?

Someone pounds on my outer door.

I frown and crane my neck to look at her—soaking wet dark hair, the soft curve of her back as she bends over to step into her panties, her gleaming beautiful skin, and a shy little smile as she looks over her shoulder, and she’s glowing like an angel—before I walk away to answer the knocking.

It’s Feliks and he’s out of breath. “Take her and go.”

“Feliks? What the hell are you talking about?”

He rushes into my room and practically shoves me back. “Where is she?” He starts searching, like he’ll find her behind the couches. “Where’s Siena?”

“Feliks, stop it. She’s in the bathroom getting dressed.”

“You have to go.” He walks to me and grabs my shirt, his eyes wide and wild. “You have to take her and get out right now.”

Fear lances into my chest.

The look on his face is intense. He seems scared, and I’ve never seen my brother scared before. Angry, yes, upset, of course, but scared? Feliks is the son of a bratva Pakhan. He doesn’t do scared.

“What happened?” I ask him, my voice hard. I’m steeling myself. I know what he’s going to say but I don’t want to hear it.

“Her father’s here. I didn’t hear everything that was said, but I heard enough.” Feliks’s jaw tightens. “I wanted to use her against you. I’ll admit it. I was angry and jealous when you brought her home, and I thought I could use her as leverage. But, brother, I’d never do it this way.”

My stomach twists and turns in pain.

Don Bastone is here.

He’s here, right now, and he’s talking to my father.

Which means I’m out of time.

No. No. No. This can’t be happening. I was so fucking close.

Feliks must see the agony in my face, because he slaps me gently, trying to bring me back. “Focus, brother. Focus. I want your position but I don’t want you dead, and I don’t know how father’s going to react.”

“What does he know? Tell me, how much does he know?”

“He knows you made a deal with Don Bastone to marry Siena, and he’s fucking furious.”

I shove Feliks away and stalk toward the bedroom.

What the hell am I going to do? Mother didn’t get a chance to convince Father that this is a good idea. I didn’t get the opportunity to smooth things over with Don Bastone enough such that the deal we made is never mentioned. So many pieces of my plan never came together, all because her father, that sneaky rat piece of shit, decided to blow everything up.

It’s too soon. It’s two weeks too soon.

I was so close to being truly happy for the first time in my miserable, tortured life.