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

my baby, but of course I couldn’t do that. As soon as word spread that she was knocked up then shit would get very difficult and very complicated.

I waited with her until the car showed up then she kissed my cheek and smiled. I wanted to say something to make her stay, but she got in the back and let it take her to my place.

I stayed at the bar, only because I felt guilty as hell about Brett, but the whole time I thought of her, thought of going home to her, thought of her legs in that skirt—and what I wanted from her, which was everything.

9

Ash

My father called early the next morning while Gian was still in bed. I yawned and stretched and stared at the coffee maker. Part of me thought I should ignore it.

But I couldn’t let it go to voicemail. “Hello? Dad?”

The strain in his voice made my spine go numb. “Hello, Ashleigh,” he said. “Are you doing well?”

That was my father, all formality and distance and slushy snow in his veins. “I’m fine,” I said. “Although I’m not sure you really care.”

“Of course I care,” he practically snarled, which didn’t do much to convince me. “I’d like to meet today, if you’re available.” He paused then added, “If your new baby daddy will allow you out.”

I pushed that stupid barb aside. “I can meet,” I said.

“There’s a coffee shop in Old City. It’s got outdoor seating. We can talk there.” He cleared his throat. “Meet me in one hour. Please come alone. I don’t want to see this man you’re staying with.”

“Okay, Dad,” I said, and wanted to add more, but he hung up already. I stared at the phone, then at the coffee machine, and didn’t hear Gian come into the kitchen.

“You okay?” he asked.

I looked over and nodded once. “He wants to meet and talk.”

“Is that a good idea?” He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“I think so,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know. I doubt he’ll do anything stupid.”

“You don’t know that,” he said. “People do desperate things all the time.”

“He just wants to talk.”

Gian shrugged and stepped past me and poured some coffee. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “And I’ll bring some guys.”

“He made me promise to come alone.”

Gian laughed. “Then I’ll stay out of sight.”

I opened my mouth to argue but I knew that was pointless. Gian had a stubborn look on his face, like things were already settled. I poured what was left of the coffee into my mug and sipped it while he walked back toward the steps. I stared at his naked back and the long line of his muscles disappearing into his gym shorts and I wondered how the hell I found myself in this situation, living with a mafia guy.

I looked at the coffee and closed my eyes. I’d have to stop drinking it soon, or at least cut back a lot.

I wondered if my dad knew that when he suggested that we meet at a coffee place.

Probably not. He didn’t care about anything but himself.

It was a crisp morning. Gian parked a block away and killed the engine. “I’ll be nearby,” he said. “If your dad does anything, or tries to get you to go somewhere, you scream, okay?”

“I can’t scream,” I said, staring at him. “I’m not going to make a scene.”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “God damn, you rich girls. Just scream, okay, princess?”

I glared at him then got out of the truck and slammed the door. He could be such a dick sometimes, although I knew he meant well. I stormed down the sidewalk in flats, jeans, and a button-down shirt. It was formal enough that my father wouldn’t have any comments about it.

He was already sitting outside of the coffee place with a cup in front of himself and a cup in front of the chair across from him, presumably for me. He wore his usual dark suit and was staring at his phone, probably reading some business contract or something like that. I slowed as I approached and looked around, but he was totally alone.

“Dad,” I said once I was close.

He looked up and didn’t smile. He had lines around his eyes and his graying hair was cut short, nearly buzzed. He nodded at the chair across from him. “Sit down, Ashleigh,” he said.

I hesitated, not in the mood to take his orders, but sat anyway. I didn’t touch the cup as he watched me carefully.

“How are you?” I asked, tentative and uncertain about what this was about.

“Been better,” he said, cocking his head. “My daughter’s pregnant by some strange man.”

I looked away. “Right, yeah. I’m sure it’s really hard for you, Dad.”

“Don’t you understand how this looks for our family?” he asked. “Your mother’s going crazy with worry back home.”

“Worry about the family name,” I said, feeling a surge of anger. “She doesn’t give a crap what I’m going through.”

“And should she?” he asked, staring at me with cold, dead eyes. “After what you did to poor Stuart?”

“Poor Stuart?” I leaned toward him. “You know he’s an abusive asshole. You’ve seen the way he treats me. Were you ever going to say anything?”

Dad’s jaw clenched and worked for a moment. “Stuart is imperfect,” he said. “But I planned on handling it.”

I barked a laugh and shook my head. “Come on, that’s not true. You were going to ignore it and hope it was never a problem. So long as I gave the family babies and kept my mouth shut, you’d keep going on making your money and not giving a crap about what happened to me.”

He took a deep breath as if controlling himself and let it out. “I’m not here to discuss Stuart with you,” he said.

“Then what do you want?” I asked.

“I’m here to make a deal.” His eyes stared into mine and I felt freezing cold suddenly, even though the sun bore down over the buildings and warmed my skin.

“What