Page 16 of Darkest Sin

I nod, the need to please him flourishing through my veins.

Why does he make me feel this way? I should be running or figuring out how to get out. Yet, every time he’s around me, I fall into his trap. He’s already warned me he’s not the hero in my story, and yet I crave to be near him.

In that warehouse, when he stood in the shadows with his stare locked on mine, I felt something. There’s a strange pull every time our eyes meet, and if he hadn’t felt the connection, surely he wouldn’t have claimed me as his own. The other men in that warehouse looked surprised to see him, shocked that he would take a girl as his own, so why now? There must be something more. Something he sees in me that intrigues him, draws him in. All I know is that if he didn’t care, he would have allowed Broken Nose to take me home, and my night would have been very different.

I shake my head, and his hand falls away. Maybe I’m reading too much into this. Maybe he just felt it was time he took someone home to fuck, and I just happened to be the easiest to claim. “Why me?” I ask him. “There were four other girls in that room. You could have easily taken any one of them.”

He leans back in his chair with a stiff stare, and I don’t bother waiting for a response that obviously isn’t coming. I get to my feet as a wave of disappointment crashes through me, scooping my glass of water off the table and lifting it to my lips before taking a quick sip.

Taking a breath, I fix him with a stare. “Are you ever going to tell me who you are?”

He doesn’t move, not even the slightest flinch of his lips, yet the way he stares back at me is filled with such cockiness that I’m ready to break all his rules and put this motherfucker right in his place. Knowing what’s good for me, I rein it in and let out a disappointed sigh before finally averting my gaze.

I stride past him, my appetite gone, when his strong fingers curl around my elbow, pulling me up short. “I must attend business this evening,” he tells me as my gaze drops to meet his, that thick accent doing wicked things to me. But it’s got nothing on his touch. “However, after I return, you will meet me in my chambers.”

I swallow hard, searching deep into those dark pits of hell. “Why?”

My Romanian captor stands, towering over me as my gaze rises, locked within his vicious stare. He leans in, his body pressed against mine as his fingers trail down to my wrist, his scent overwhelming me and making my knees weak. “Because I’m going to fuck you just hard enough to make you believe you want this.”

And with that, he releases his grip and strides past me, disappearing back inside his home. I’m left gaping after him with my heart racing, equal parts terrified and giddy for what’s about to come.

8

KILLIAN

My fleet of blackout SUVs rolls to a stop outside the home of Deago Donatelli, the scum who ordered the raid on my warehouse. He’s the head of a small mafia family trying to climb the ranks—and burning bridges in the process—but after tonight, the Donatelli family will be nothing but ruins.

Under the cover of darkness, my men are barely visible as they pour from the SUVs and surround the Donatelli estate. I’ve brought overwhelming numbers, and while I certainly don’t need it to be successful tonight, it also acts as a warning to anybody else who wishes to stand against the DeLorenzo family.

I’ve spent the day calling the wives and families of those who were slain in the raid last night to help organize funeral arrangements, and with every grieving wife I spoke to, I vowed that come nightfall, I would get the justice they deserve.

It was a rough day, and while dealing with death is just another part of the job, I won’t lie and say it doesn’t affect me. The horror of what I do and who I’ve become has always lingered on my soul, and one day, I will fail to recognize the man who stares back at me in the mirror, but until then, I will continue to be the man this family needs me to be.

The only respite I’ve received today was the stolen moment with the beautiful woman I now call mine out by the pool. It was brief, and while my intent was to simply check in on her from afar, I found myself lingering, even taking a seat at the table.

I’m curious about her, and while I spent an hour this morning sitting by her bedside as I looked into the file Sergiu gave me, I’m finding that curiosity getting stronger. I wish to get to know her better. I want to know why she hasn’t attempted to run, why her eyes flash with intrigue instead of fear every time she looks my way, but more so, I need to know why my pulse quickens every time I’m in her presence.

I want to touch her, want to know how it would feel to sink inside of her. Taste her and claim her in every way possible.

She is mine, every piece of her belongs to me. When her gaze locks onto mine, I feel that she belongs right here in my world. I feel a connection, an electricity that pulses between us, and I’m intrigued. I want to know her on a deeper level, and the fact that I don’t has been grating on my nerves all day.

I felt it at the auction, the moment her innocent gaze locked onto mine and she silently screamed for help, that some kind of bond was forged between us, and while I stand by my statement that I am not her hero, I can’t help but wish to be. However, villains cannot afford to be heroes, not in my world. Men like me are not bred for the limelight. We are not made to be celebrated. We live within the darkness, away from the watchful eyes of the general population, where corruption, money, and bloodshed are seen as power.

While she is a sultry fox and certainly not innocent by normal standards, compared to the world I live in, she’s nothing but a helpless rabbit, and the right thing to do would be to let her go. But I’m not known for doing what’s right. I do what I want, and right now, I want nothing more than to fuck that innocence out of her.

And that’s exactly what I plan to do the moment I get home.

Wanting to get this shit over and done with so I can get back home and sink into my new prize, I glance around at my men as they surround the Donatelli estate. Everybody is exactly where they’re supposed to be, guns at the ready.

Sergiu stands at my side, his finger at his ear as he listens to the intel he’s receiving from my security team as they run my infrared software, telling us exactly what to expect once we penetrate the property.

“We good?” I ask him.

Sergiu gives a firm nod and a fierce hunger tears through me.

It’s game time.

My gaze turns back to the estate. It’s large, but nothing compared to the scale of my home. Our intel tells us that most of the home’s occupants are on the lower level. At least fifteen men lingering within the main dining room, and a few others strolling the ground floor, possibly part of Deago’s security team—all of whom need to be fired considering their lack of movement. We’ve been here for almost a full two minutes and haven’t heard a peep from inside. If this had been an attack on my home, every single one of them would already be dead on the ground before they’d even stepped foot onto my property.

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