Falling for the Killer: A Dark Possessive Mafia Romance by B.B Hamel (simple ebook reader TXT) 📕

still stuck in my gut. As soon as she said those words, it truly struck home that she didn’t know a goddamn thing about me.

Her whole life was about money and status and power. She’d probably never known a man that didn’t give a damn about any of those things, except for maybe power. I didn’t need her cash or her status, I only wanted her and my baby. And yet she’d offered to pay me off like I was some stupid problem she could bury in a big, fat check.

I couldn’t stand the thought. I took out my phone and called Dean. He picked up right away. “Missed me already?” he said.

“If you want me to owe you a favor, I need something from you,” I said.

Short silence. “What?” he asked.

“I need Ashleigh’s address,” I said. “Her family’s house.”

He was quiet and I heard traffic in the background. He must’ve been walking somewhere. “That’s not a good idea,” he said.

“I’m not going to make a scene,” I said. “Only I need to talk to her, and I want to do it in person.”

Another silence. I could only guess what he was thinking. “You’ll owe me a big favor,” he said.

“Fine,” I said. “Get me the address.”

“Give me a few minutes. I’ll text it to you.” Then he hung up.

I sat there and sipped my drink. I knew showing up at a rich girl’s house looking like a thug was a terrible idea, but I didn’t know what else to do. That baby was mine, and I wasn’t about to let her slip away. Letting her leave my house was a mistake, and now I was going to pay for it.

Ten agonizing minutes later, her address appeared. She had a place out on the Main Line in a town called Bryn Mawr. I vaguely knew the area—it was the sort of spot men like me never bothered with. I got up, paid the bartender, and walked out into the comfortable afternoon. I felt light and the sun was bright, but I knew what I had to do.

There was no other way.

I found my truck, pulled into traffic, and headed west. Bryn Mawr wasn’t too far outside of the city. The Main Line was a series of small towns and villages that grew up around Philly’s original train tracks. The richest, wealthiest families in the region had estates tucked back down long driveways with big gates and high walls. Their world wasn’t meant for a man like me, but fuck them and fuck everyone if they thought they could stop me.

My baby. I kept thinking it, over and over again as the city turned to suburbs. Fresh green lawns, big leafy trees, nice young couples walking down the sidewalks with strollers and big smiles on their faces. My baby was growing inside of Ash. I never imagined I’d have a child, never thought that was for me, and yet now that it was a possibility, I knew that I couldn’t turn my back on her. I needed that child like I needed a piece of myself.

The address led me to a small private driveway that wound through a pine forest. Needles covered the ground and birdsong drifted in through my open windows. It was goddamn idyllic, totally different from the inner city where I grew up. I knew the scream of ambulances, the pop of gunfire, the sound of angry voices in the middle of the night. This weird forest in the suburbs was totally foreign.

The driveway opened at the end and the house sitting before me looked like a hotel. The roof was red tile and the walls were a clean slate gray. A large awning jutted out across the pavement and a couple cars were parked beneath. I slowed and stopped, climbed out, and looked around.

The place was immense. I knew she was loaded, but my god. I could’ve fit the entire Valentino family in this place comfortably, and had more room to spare. The Don’s house was similar, though a touch smaller, and this sort of wealth and opulence was like an entirely different existence.

I struggled my whole life. I barely had anything growing up. But Ash was born and bred with a silver spoon in her pretty mouth.

It didn’t matter. I sucked in a breath and marched down beneath the huge awning and toward the front doors. They were big and wooden with glass set in the middle, and I found a small bell off to one side. I hit it once, then twice, and waited.

After a minute, the door on the left cracked open. A woman looked at me, wide-eyed, confused. She had light brown skin, long dark hair, and wore simple black slacks and a white shirt.

“Yes?” she asked. “Can I help with something?”

The housekeeper, I guessed. “I’m here to see Ash,” I said. “Tell her it’s Gian, and it’s important.”

“Ash,” the housekeeper repeated. “Does she expect you?” Her frown deepened.

“No, but—”

“Marcia, who the hell is that at the door?” a voice boomed out.

Marcia stepped back, head bowed, as a young man took her place.

He scowled out at me. I’d never met him before, but I knew this was Ash’s brother, Jack. He had slicked-back hair and wore a pair of chinos and a button-down. Everything about him screamed wealth, from the tan on his skin to the glittering Rolex on his wrist. He looked at me like I was some lost puppy.

“What can I do for you, pal?” he asked. “If you’re selling something, we’re not interested. Maybe you can try the Lane family, they’re right next door.” He grinned at me, and his teeth glittered white.

“I’m here to see Ash,” I said. “Tell her Gian’s waiting.”

His grin faded. “Ash isn’t here,” he said.

“I know that isn’t true,” I said, clenching my jaw, suddenly uncertain. If she wasn’t home then I might’ve wasted a long drive out here, and might not get another chance at this.

“Who are you?” Jack asked. “Gian who? I never