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

Ash, but she didn’t react to that. “Her last name’s Adamson. That mean anything to you?”

Stefano shook his head. He was a good lieutenant, but he worked mostly on the ground with the local pushers and dealers, and didn’t have much time for the wider politics of the city.

“They’re connected,” I said, staring at Ash. She looked into her wine like a man dying of thirst. “Sort of like oligarchs. You know what that word means, oligarchs?”

“Not really,” Stefano admitted.

“Means they’re rich and they have power,” I said. “Ash staying with me might cause some problems, so you need to spread the word through the ranks.”

Ash grimaced slightly, but kept staring at the wine, shaking it slightly, watching it slosh in the cloudy glass.

“I can do that,” Stefano said. “We’ve already got problems from the Healy family. This going to be violent?”

“No,” Ash said quickly.

“I don’t know,” I said softly.

She stared at me, then clenched her jaw and looked away.

Stefano looked between us and sighed. “Well, shit,” he said. “I take it things are more complicated than I thought.”

“All you need to know is her family’s not happy that she’s with me, and they might cause trouble. Tell the guys to be on their guard.”

“I’ll pass along the word,” Stefano said, glanced at Ash, then leaned in closer to me. “But boss, what the hell are you thinking with this girl?”

I glared at him and felt a bit of anger flare. Sometimes Stefano was a little too familiar and crossed lines he never should go near. Ash was sitting right there, and he had no right to question me in front of her.

“Do your fucking job,” I said with a snarl.

He sucked in a breath and nodded. “Whatever you say.” He leaned back and watched me with hooded, careful eyes.

“I hope my family doesn’t do anything stupid,” Ash said, looking at her hands. “But they’re upset. I don’t know how far my father will go.”

“It’s okay,” I said and tapped the table. “What else is happening, Stefano?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you this right now,” he said, and glanced over at Ash.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Say what’s on your mind.”

He cleared his throat. “Brett got jumped,” he said. “Some Healy thugs. He was slinging rock—uh, I mean, selling bootlegs—” Stefano stammered and stopped.

“It’s fine,” Ash said. “I know you sell drugs.”

“Right,” Stefano said, grinning sheepishly. “Anyway, he was slinging rocks, and a couple Healy guys rolled up on him.”

“Dead?” I asked, body tense.

Stefano shook his head. “Hurt bad, though. In the hospital. You should go check in on him.”

“I will tomorrow,” I said, glancing at my watch. It was already too late for visitors. I wish he’d told me sooner, but I hadn’t been paying close attention to the crew lately.

Fucking Healy family, jumping my people. At least they didn’t kill the guy. Brett was a good salesman, but he was just a corner boy, no more than twenty with barely any facial hair and a big smile.

I’d been distracted. It was a fuck-up and it was my fault. I had a war going on, and this shit with Ash was pulling too much of my attention. I should’ve known about Brett getting jumped way sooner.

“Other than that, we’re all good,” Stefano said.

“Why don’t you go join the boys for a minute,” I said, looking at my hands. “I’ll be over soon.”

“Yeah, okay, boss,” Stefano said. He hesitated, like he wanted to say more, but got up and walked back to the other table.

I got up and stalked outside. Ash followed me, keeping close behind. I paced around on the sidewalk, pissed as all hell, and Ash watched me with a nervous stare. She chewed on her fingernails and looked gorgeous in the headlights of passing cars. Fuck, she even distracted me when I was too mad to think straight.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I should’ve been there,” I said, stopping, arms spread. “I didn’t even know that one of my guys got hit. How the fuck can I run my crew if I don’t even know when they get attacked?”

She shook her head. “It’s my fault. All this stuff going on.”

“It’s not your fault.” I stopped and glared at her, seething with anger. I flashed back to that night in that empty lounge, her body under mine, panting and gasping. She was a small girl, so fucking beautiful and delicate, and I wanted to take her in my arms and break her. I wanted to make her shiver and gasp and moan and give me every single inch of her gorgeous pale skin.

I stepped toward her. She stared at me but didn’t move. I loomed over her and tilted her chin up toward me. She bit her dark red lips and stared into my eyes.

“Maybe you should just leave me alone,” she whispered. “I mean, if I’m going to be a distraction. I’ll stay in your house but you don’t have to babysit me.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” I said, head tilted. “Is that what you want?”

She bit her lip and didn’t answer. I wanted to kiss her so badly, slip my tongue between her teeth and slide a hand up that short skirt, up the length of her impossibly long legs, bend her backward and make her gasp as I teased her soaking spot. God, I was angry with myself, and with her, and with the whole situation.

A car rolled past. She blinked at me and didn’t pull away. She wanted this as much as I did.

“I should go back,” she whispered.

That broke the spell. I released her chin. “If you want to,” I said, shrugging.

“You should spend time with your guys,” she said, glancing back toward the bar.

“You don’t have to go.”

She put a hand on my chest and smiled. “I really should. Don’t worry, I’ll get an Uber.”

I wanted to make her stay. I wanted to show her off some more and announce to the whole damn bar that she was pregnant with