Possessive Devil: A Dark Mafia Romance Read online

  “Drugs,” Sunshine said, nodding to herself as she got her clothes back on, though they didn’t do much to cover her up. “Definitely drugs.”

  “I didn’t see him take anything,” Rainwater says, frowning at the slumbering guy, and I want to tell her to shut the fuck up.

  I try to keep myself together. “Weren’t you dancing?” I ask her.

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “He could’ve done something when we were busy sucking him off,” Raven says like it makes total sense, even if it doesn’t. “You were working the pole, girl, you didn’t see shit.”

  God, right about now I love Raven with all my heart.

  The glass of whiskey’s sitting on the end table next to the couch and it’s almost entirely empty. My heart does a stutter-step—well, shit, no wonder he passed out like that. I didn’t expect him to drink it all and put in a pretty massive dose, enough to make a rhino pass out, but no time to worry about that now.

  “You know who this guy is, don’t you?” Real fear in Sunshine’s voice. She’s terrified, they all are, and I am too, except I’m trying to use my fear to help me focus. “If he’s dead or ODing or whatever, we’re gonna get blamed, and you know what’ll happen, right?”

  I nod to myself as if I’m having an idea and stand up straight. I’m shaking but I hope they don’t notice in the low light and with all the stress floating around.

  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” I say and my voice is strong like I’m sure of myself, even if my knees are weak and my chest feels like it’s packed with ice. “You three go into the changing room and act like you’ve been there the whole time. I’ll deal with this guy and make sure he doesn’t die since I took some paramedic classes when I became a lifeguard like forever ago.”

  “But won’t you get in deep shit when he wakes up?” Sunshine narrows her eyes at me, although Raven’s already walking to the door. I make note of that—apparently Raven has no qualms about throwing me under the bus and I no longer love her. Oh, well, short-lived.

  “Calvino knows I don’t dance so he won’t suspect me. If he spots you three hovering around his brother, he’ll think it was one of you right away, especially with the lipstick smeared all over his dick.”

  Sunshine grimaces. “That’s a fair point.”

  Rainwater stands and walks to me. She puts a hand on my arm and frowns like she’s concerned. “Are you sure, Gracie? You’re really gonna take the heat?”

  I give her a brave smile even if I don’t feel brave. All I want is for them to get the hell out of here and let me do what I came here to do all those months ago, but I have to keep playing this out if I want to survive what comes next. I can’t let any of them suspect I have any motives beyond being a good person.

  Even if I am so far past good at this point that I don’t know what I am anymore. Sinner? Broken? All of the above and worse.

  “Calvino likes me, don’t worry. He knows I’m just a simple country girl.” I grin at her and put on my West Virginia accent, really laying it on thick. “He knows I wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Rainwater smiles back even if she doesn’t seem convinced, but she follows Raven out the door. Sunshine’s next and she hesitates before touching my hand.

  “You’re a good one, you know that, Gracie? Too good for this hellhole.” And then she’s gone, hurrying after the others. I wait a second until they’re out of sight before I close the door and turn back to the slumbering bastard on the couch.

  Sunshine’s wrong.

  I’m not a good one.

  I’m so far from a good one that I’ve done laps around my old church-going self and come out the other side more jaded and much angrier than I ever imagined I would be.

  But that doesn’t matter. I can worry about morality later, after I’ve taken care of what I need to do.

  I take several deep breaths, steady myself, before I walk over to my man and stand above him like a vengeful angel.

  Asleep, he doesn’t look so bad. Peaceful almost, like a big slumbering bear. It’s easy to imagine he’s not dangerous when he’s not conscious, without that spark of anger and death in his eyes, but the moment he regains consciousness will be a goddamn reckoning and I better hope I’m not around for it.

  I drop to my knees and lean against his bulk, shoving him to the side so I can reach his back pocket.

  He grunts and stirs. He takes a massive breath and licks his lips and his eyes flutter open and for one horrible moment, I think he’s about to say something as he looks at me, eyelids fluttering, pupils half-focused, but he only grunts and slumps sideways, mumbling to himself. “Charlie, you look like shit, your hair got fucking short,” he grumbles and I recognize his wife’s name on his heavily slurred tongue.

  I grab the wallet from his back pocket and open it. His driver’s license stares me in the face and my heart does strange backwards leaps: Vince Manzini, six-foot-three, brown eyes, brown hair, aged thirty-eight based on his birthday, which was apparently three weeks ago—happy birthday, Vinny, my boy. There’s a couple hundred dollars in twenties and fifties, some scraps of paper, and a few credit cards. I pocket the scraps but leave everything else.

  I fish the phone from his pocket next. My breath’s coming fast now and I’m riding on the edge so fast I don’t know if I’ll crash or take off and go soaring. My life could tip either way, and I’m terrified, but I have to do this—I have to do it no matter how hard or how dangerous, because to turn back now is to spit in the face of Riley, and I can’t do that, I won’t do that, not when she remains the one thing grounding me to this otherwise miserable and crumbling world. Thinking about my cousin lights a fire in my chest, a raging hot fire that melts away the ice-cold nerves as I try to unlock the old iPhone model—probably a burner—but he’s got a passcode, of course he’s got a passcode.

  I grab his wrist and raise his limp thumb to the fingerprint scanner on the bottom button, and just as the phone clicks and the screen flashes to home, the icons populating like a wave, hope flooding me and maybe, just maybe, I’m going to do this, I’m going to actually do this for real—

  The door opens and a man steps into the room.

  I go very still and look over.

  Vince’s hand is still gripped in mine, his giant paw-like fingers pressed against the phone button. I release him and his wrist drops and he grunts and mumbles something, still very much asleep, and rolls over on his side getting more comfortable.

  I grip the phone against my breasts, covering the screen, and stare into Calvino’s eyes as he closes the door behind him.

  Calvino’s like his brother, but different. Same dark hair, same dark irises, but he’s harder, sharper, with higher cheekbones, a square jaw, and more tattoos. He looks like a man sculpted from ash and thunder and put into this world to do nothing but break hearts and take what he wants, and rumors suggest that’s exactly what he does, like he’s leaving a wave of pleased and damaged women in his wake every time he walks into a room.

  Anger is etched all across his body as he looks at me and my heart’s racing and my brain’s glitched-out and overloaded with fear and I should do something, say something, try to explain what I’m doing, but what can I say that would make this okay? I’m holding his brother’s phone in my hands and using his unconscious thumb to unlock it, I’m definitely way past the line of anything remotely normal, and now I’m going to die.

  This possibility occurred to me when I came up with this plan but only in vague what-ifs, and now it’s staring me in the eyes like a hurricane and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  Calvino takes a step closer. He’s big, so big, rippling with strength and about an inch taller than his brother. He looks down at me, glances at the phone pressed against my breasts, and I swear I catch a gleam in his eyes as he looks at my body, and slowly he tilts his head.

  “Is he alive?” he asks, which is not what I expected him to say. I’m stunned and too surprised to talk, but quickly gather myself and nod once.

  “Asleep.”

  “And is that his phone?”

  I look at the device in my hands. Can I lie right now? Probably, but he’ll see through it.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Get up.”

  I stand and take a step away from the slumbering Vincent.

  Calvino advances on me and I keep going, back and back and back as the big monster looms above me like a velvet rope twisted into a noose. He radiates a strange, collected calmness that’s incredibly menacing but in a quiet way, like he doesn’t need words to get across what he wants, the world should simply know what it owes him. Where his brother is all brash and loud and intense, Calvino is a self-contained world of darkness and I’ve never been able to get a peek past his many defenses.

  Until now, at least. The anger that bubbles off him like mist on a cool morning is so deliciously terrifying that I drop his brother’s phone and watch it bounce a few feet away. Calvino ignores it as I slam up against the wall behind me.

  He grabs my wrists, faster than I thought possible, and grips them hard enough to make it hurt as he lifts them up above my head.

  I suck in a shocked breath. One of his big palms is large enough to hold me tight like an iron manacle around my supple flesh.

  “Why is my brother asleep and why are you going through his phone? Who are you, Grace? Who sent you?”

  “I’m nobody,” I whisper and it’s true, I’m nobody to him. I’m not a part of their world or at least I wasn’t until my life was shattered by a phone call one year ago. “Nobody sent me. I’m just looking for answers.”

  “Answers.” He purrs that word. A terrifying shiver runs down my spine. He controls me now and there’s nothing I can do to escape from the bulk of him as he keeps me pinned and helpless against the wall. I fe
el the heat of him roll into my skin and I’m not sure if I’m afraid or if I want him to tighten his grip.

  He looks at me like he wants to bite my lips before he rips out my throat.

  “Answers about what?” he asks.

  “Your brother and his business. My cousin, she’s gone, and I needed answers. He has them.” The story’s jumbled in my fear and panic. I can’t get it out, can’t say it straight.

  He tilts his head, considering. “Hold still.”

  “Hold still for what?”

  His other hand moves up my body. I suck in a shocked breath as he grazes my bare thigh and pats along my stomach. He stares into my eyes as he does it like he’s searching for something and I release a pathetic whimper, half from pure agonizing terror and half from the thrill of him touching my skin like this. Something must be seriously wrong with my brain if I’m thinking about him peeling my clothes off right now when I should be more worried about him cutting open my veins and bleeding me out.

  He touches along the waistband of my skirt until he finds the folded-over fifty his brother gave me along with some other tip money—and the empty plastic baggie.

  I nearly curse. I should’ve thrown that fucking thing in the trash but I was too afraid of someone finding it. He holds it up toward the light and squints at the tiny bit of powder residue.

  The door opens again as Calvino stares at me with utter anger and curiosity.

  Diego strides into the room. He’s tall, like Calvino, with dark hair slicked back, light brown skin, and sparkling green eyes. He’s always got a smile on his face, and right now’s no exception. His black shirt’s rolled up to the elbows and the tattoos on his forearms make the twisted, corded muscle look like blocks of hardened ink as he turns to sleeping Vince and releases a snort.

  “Is this why the girls are hiding in the back like a bunch of scared chickens?” he asks and looks over at me. “You need a hand with that one?”

  Calvino shoves the money and the empty baggie in his pocket but doesn’t release me and doesn’t look back at Diego. “Take her to my place.”

  “Wait,” I say as my brain spins with a million different possibilities. “You don’t have to, I mean, we can just talk. I can explain, I swear.”

  Diego approaches and crosses his arms, still smirking. “She’s in deep shit, isn’t she?”

  Calvino’s voice is like a melting icicle in my ear. “You’d better pray he wakes up, little thief.” He yanks me by the wrists and shoves me at Diego, who grabs me and locks my arms behind my back. Pain lances up into my shoulders as he jolts me side to side, not bothering to be gentle. I don’t try to struggle—I can feel his iron grip and I know it would only end up with me breaking a bone or dislocating a shoulder and the pain’s bad enough to make my throat tighten and seize.

  “Should I get Vince’s guys?” Diego asks casually like this sort of thing happens all the time. “I bet they’ll want to talk to this one.”

  “Let me handle them.” Calvino takes off his tie and walks to me. He loops it around my face and tightens it until the world drops to blackness and I can’t see a thing. “Leave her in my room. I’ll talk to her after I’ve cleaned up this mess.”

  “Whatever you say.” Diego releases a soft laugh. “Although honestly, Calvino, if you wanted the girl, you could just take her here and now.”

  A terrified moan escapes my lips and I can’t see how Calvino reacts, but his voice is like a shotgun blast in my brain.

  “If I wanted her, I’d have her already. Now get her the fuck out of here and take her out the back. I don’t need more questions.”

  Diego says nothing else, only drags me away and I go stumbling after him.

  Chapter 2

  Calvino

  “Jesus, what the fuck happened?” Vince rubs at his face as I sit on the couch beside him. It took a little coaxing, some light slapping and shaking, but I managed to wake him up with minimal problems.

  As far as I can tell, there’s no lasting damage, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved or deeply disappointed.

  “You fell asleep.” I hand him a glass of water one of the other drink girls brought over—another attractive redhead named Ginnie, though she’s not pretty like Grace. None of the girls are, they’re much too jaded and exhausted, they all lost that spark a long time ago, but it somehow still lingers inside of little Gracie.

  “Last thing I remember, those two fucking strippers were sucking my dick. The pale one and the blonde one, what are their names?”

  “Raven and Sunshine.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. They were doing good work too, but then—” He stops and shakes his head. “Everything’s fuzzy.”

  “You okay, brother?” I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and stare into his bleary eyes. “You on anything right now? You seeing a doctor about something?”

  He glares at me and shakes his head. “You know I’m not on a damn thing and I’m as healthy as ever. Don’t look at me with that paternal fucking stare. Don’t forget that I’m the big brother here.”

  I smile and shrug, leaning back again. “Whatever you say.”

  He stands, staggers a bit, but catches the end table and steadies himself before he walks around the room, pacing back and forth, shaking out his hands and rolling his neck, waking himself up.

  “Fuck, I feel like I might pass out again. Where are my guys?”

  “Diego’s going to send them back.”

  “I think one of those bitches slipped me something.” He pats himself and finds the phone and the wallet I shoved back into his pockets. He counts his money, finds it’s all there, and curses softly as he puts it away again, shaking his head like he has no clue what’s going on. “Didn’t steal anything though.”

  “I think you got lucky,” I say, crossing my legs. “You might want to see Dr. Mitchell and find out what he thinks about this little episode though.”

  “Might not be a bad idea if I can be discreet about it,” he says, staring into the distance past the stripper pole and into some imagined future that’s playing out in his brain. I smile to myself, wondering what story he’s spinning to make this all okay again—overworked, overtired, too busy and too stressed, that sort of shit.

  He’ll rationalize this away and won’t think about it again, so long as I remain calm and don’t make it seem like it’s a big deal.

  Even if it’s a massive fucking deal.

  “That’s settled. I’ll go find Diego and make sure your guys come get you. Maybe you should take it easy tonight.”

  Vince waves me off. “I’ll find them myself.” He shakes his head again and rubs his eyes. “I feel like I just woke up from a goddamn coma.”

  “Go get some rest.” I stand up and walk to my brother. He nods to me as I squeeze his shoulder and slap his back. We’re not a hugging-kissing-comforting sort of family, so that’s about as much as he’s going to get.

  Not like he needs more. Ice flows through Vince’s veins and he’d sooner break my neck than say he loves me, and frankly, I feel the same damn way.

  “Don’t tell Rella or Susi. I don’t need them worrying.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me, brother.”

  He seems relieved and nods once. Weakness is the enemy of a man like Vince, and he can’t afford to show an ounce of softness or frailty. That’s why he won’t question my explanation and won’t press too hard: he’s terrified that I’ll spread the story of him falling asleep with his dick in the mouth of a stripper, and that would be catastrophically bad for him and the family.

  If his enemies heard that he was falling asleep while two women sucked him off in the back of a strip club, they’d start pushing at the boundaries of his organization just to see how much they could get away with. Vince has to project strength at all times, not only to keep his position as the Don of the Los Angeles mafia, but also to make sure his enemies don’t get bold enough to make trouble.

  It makes him tough but it also makes him weak and brittle, and it’s not hard to use his fear against him to get what I want, so all I need to do is push at the right buttons to make him dance exactly the way I need.