Pretty Sinner: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs Book 3) Read online

  I clenched my jaw and looked toward Chika. She nodded at me. The truck was ready.

  “If you’re serious about this, come find me in three days.”

  “Where will you be?”

  I smirked and shook my head. “That’d ruin the fun.” I walked past him, stopping only to touch his arm. “Good luck, Redmond.”

  I felt his gaze on my body as I walked away.

  Marry Redmond Bernhard. I never imagined something so insane.

  But the potential was there. The power was there.

  I could be something bigger and better than I ever dreamed.

  All I had to do was give myself over to that man.

  That handsome bastard.

  He grinned at me as I got into the truck.

  I felt a chill run down my spine, and I wondered:

  Would this be as easy as I hoped?

  Nothing ever was.

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  Preview: Black Promises

  People obsess over moments.

  The turn of a screw. The twist of a knife. The moment that changes the course of a life. Everyone likes to imagine those moments lead to a bright, shiny, beautiful future.

  There was nothing bright or shiny or beautiful about the moment that changed everything for me.

  Or the series of moments. Small choices that could’ve led me somewhere better.

  My nana called them miracles.

  My mother called them coincidences.

  I called them hell.

  One of those moments happened on a bright fall day early in the first semester of my sophomore year of college.

  It was a gorgeous afternoon. The times that stuck with me, they were always perfect. Reasonable humidity, lots of sunshine. The breeze blew through the perfectly manicured lawn of Blackwoods College, and Robyn skipped out ahead, grinning back at me, spreading her arms wide.

  “Isn’t it absolutely perfect?”

  I couldn’t help but smile back. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I fed off it like a thirsty vampire. I loved positive people, and I worked hard to surround myself only with positive things.

  But goodness was an illusion, of course.

  An illusion I desperately clung to.

  I sighed dramatically and caught up with Robyn. I leaned against her shoulder, clinging to her arm, and bumped her with my hip.

  “You missed this place, didn’t you?”

  “Summer is basically a nightmare.”

  “I know what you mean. Months stuck at home was like standing in lava for ten years.”

  Robyn rolled her eyes. “You can be so dramatic.”

  “I know. At least we’re back, right? Our second year of college.”

  “Things are already looking up.”

  I’d known Robyn since high school. We’d met in art class when we were freshmen and became best friends instantly. Her parents were Blackwoods alumni, which had helped her get in when it came time to apply, but her sterling grades and extracurriculars had made her a shoo-in.

  By comparison, I was lucky. I’d had middling grades and only played in the band for two years, but I’d won an art contest by sewing an enormous tapestry made from destroyed vintage clothing, and that had bumped my portfolio up enough to let me sneak into the fine arts program. I was also a scholarship student since my parents weren’t nearly as loaded as Robyn’s.

  We came from different worlds, but that never seemed to matter. We’d applied to all the same schools, and Blackwoods was the only one where we both got in. That had made college a pretty easy decision.

  The first year had gone fine. Nothing exciting had happened. I acclimated to taking the commute from our little suburban Philadelphia town down to our little liberal arts college tucked away in the woods of Media, Pennsylvania. We pretended like we were grown-up and carefree, when we both still lived at home, and both still had plenty to worry about.

  But not yet. It was a nice day, and we were glad to be on campus again. Robyn steered us toward the Whitman building, through a crowd of slow-walking hipster kids and down a small side pathway.

  Blackwoods was the most elite school in the area, but it was also the smallest. It was a well-kept secret, and I got the sense that the administration and faculty liked it that way. We existed in a bubble, and the world outside rarely intruded on our pristine green lawns and the gothic architecture. The place looked and acted like it was an Ivy League institution, but really it was just another regional school that pumped out qualified graduates like a machine.

  I didn’t care. I was still in love with the sun-dappled stone buildings and the tall windows with their arched openings and the stained glass that illuminated the floor in multicolored hues.

  To me, Blackwoods was a paradise.

  It wouldn’t always be. But in those days, I still thought it was heaven.

  “Oh, crap.” Robyn slowed down. I looked over toward the end of the path and spotted four people walking toward us.

  I sucked in a breath. The boy in front was Addler Montgomery, and he looked exactly like his name suggested: perfectly coiffed hair, preppy designer clothes, impeccable teeth, square jaw, eyes like liquid amber. He looked like he’d stumbled out of an Abercrombie catalog or something like that, and every girl on campus was dying to get a piece of him. Addler was the most recent up-and-coming quarterback for the football team, and there were rumors that he’d take over the starting job before the end of the current season.

  Behind him was Des Willis. He was handsome, boyish, easy smile, slacker attitude, but muscular and toned. Des was a star wide receiver, a big guy with a big attitude, and a notorious playboy. His smile got bigger when he spotted the pair of us in his path, like a hungry hyena sneaking up on a quiet, prey-filled watering hole.

  Next was Calvin Solar, with his cropped hair and bright blue eyes. He seemed bored and was constantly glued to his phone. And if rumors could be believed, he was the only guy on campus with a connection to seriously good drugs—not that I was into snorting coke in frat boy bathrooms.

  Last and certainly far from least was Robyn’s cousin, Jarrod Hale. He was the biggest of the group and the quietest. Messy, curly hair, dark eyes, stubble on his cheeks and chin, clothes like he couldn’t have cared less about what he was wearing, and still he was handsome as sin. His reputation was dark and dirty, and Robyn didn’t talk about him much, mostly because she’d grown up with the bastard spending most of his waking hours torturing her.

  They were the hottest men on campus and the most dangerous. Robyn looked like she wanted to get the hell out of there, but it was much too late. Addler spotted her and waved, and Jarrod pushed past his friends to stalk toward us with a malicious glare.

  “Aren’t you late for class, cuz?”

  Robyn let out a frustrated breath. I knew that tone. Jarrod was in a bad mood, and he wanted to take it out on her.

  “Yeah, I am, so can we walk past without getting shit from you?”

  “Oh, damn, Jarrod, she finally fights back.” Des laughed and took out his phone. “I should get a picture for posterity.”

  Jarrod flipped him off, then gazed at Robyn. “What did I tell you before we left this morning?”

  “Seriously, Jarrod—”

  “What did I tell you?”

  Robyn turned red. I seethed with anger, but I felt the eyes of three of the Four Horsemen staring at me like they wanted to rip off my clothes and take a piece right then and there.

  “I’m leaving you alone. I can’t help it if we bumped into each other on a public walking path.”

  “See, that’s the thing, cuz. If you would’ve turned and walked away, we could’ve avoided all this. Instead, you had to step up and act like I exist.”

  “Don’t be a
n asshole, Jarrod,” I said finally, unable to help myself. Robyn had put up with his random bullying for way too long, and I was getting sick of it. “What is with you and torturing her, anyway? You get off on it? Pretty fucked up considering she’s your cousin.”

  Des and Addler laughed loudly while Calvin glanced up from his phone with raised eyebrows.

  Jarrod’s attention turned to me. His gaze was hot, like a dagger shoved down my throat. Most of the time, he acted like I didn’t exist—and I preferred it that way. He lived with Robyn, but he kept to himself, and I didn’t hear her parents mention him very often. He was like a stranger in their house, even though they’d taken him in when he was ten. He had some dark and depressing backstory, but I didn’t know the details, and I didn’t give a shit.

  He was an asshole. Robyn was sweet as hell, and most of the time she was accommodating and extremely patient with him, but I was disgusted by his constant harassment. They were family, and her parents had done him a favor by giving him a place to live. He could’ve at least tried not to be a total bastard to her in exchange.

  Jarrod stared at me like he’d never seen me before but found me very interesting. There wasn’t anger or malice in his gaze like I’d expected, but his eyes made me squirm, regardless. The asshole had a reputation, and I didn’t want to find out if the rumors about him liking pain were true.

  “So my cousin’s lapdog finally speaks. I was wondering when you’d start yapping.” He took a step toward me. “Would you rather I focused all my energy on you, little Cora?”

  “Stop, Jarrod,” Robyn said. “She’s just sticking up for me.”

  I lifted my chin in defiance. “Go ahead, big guy. Get your rocks off torturing me instead.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His eyes sparkled as he looked me up and down like he’d only just noticed that I was a girl—despite the fact that we’d known each other for years. “I’m not sure you could handle it.”

  “I can take a lot more than you can give.”

  That seemed to delight him. He suppressed a smile. “All right, then. If that’s what you want.” He stepped forward faster than I could follow and grabbed my backpack, pulling me hard against him.

  “Stop!” Robyn hopped around us like a squawking bird. Jarrod’s friends watched intently, Addler’s eyes wide with fascination, Des’s face twisted into excited horror, and Calvin showed only the barest hint of interest.

  Jarrod twisted my arm back and held me tight against his chest. I breathed hard as pain lanced down my wrist and through my elbow. It burned and I wanted to cry out, but instead I mastered the pain and embraced it.

  That was the trick: you couldn’t make pain disappear, but you could become a part of it, make it flow through you like water. I’d learned how to accept that things would always hurt a long time ago.

  I stared up at him with a tight jaw.

  A faint bruise yellowed on his cheek. His left eye was swollen, and his nose was crooked from being broken too many times. I’d known about the fighting, but I hadn’t known how bad it’d gotten. When he smirked, it was like staring into the face of a hungry animal.

  His lips curled in amusement.

  “Maybe you’re tougher than you seem,” he whispered, mouth coming close to mine.

  “Let me go.”

  “Are you sure you want that? Maybe I’ll pull you tighter.” A slight increase in pressure. I let out a soft groan and worried my wrist might break.

  “Jarrod, I swear to god, I’ll fucking tell Mom and Dad if you don’t let her go.” Robyn shoved at him, but it was like kicking a brick wall.

  Something shifted in him. Fear, maybe—or a deeper rage than I’d thought he was capable of harboring. He held me for another beat, then let me go, and I stumbled backward, rubbing my arm.

  Jarrod stared at me like he wanted to keep going, like he wanted to take this as far as he could—like he wanted to hurt me, really hurt me—but instead he turned away.

  “Come on,” he said, ignoring his cousin. “We’ve got class.”

  “Jesus, man,” Addler said. “You nearly broke her fucking arm. What’s wrong with you?” His words gave the impression of being upset, but he looked too excited to really care about my well-being.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Jarrod said, shoving past. “Come on.”

  The others followed him away, Addler still laughing, Des making some crude joke about me liking it rough, and Calvin staring back into his phone.

  “Are you okay?” Robyn rubbed my shoulder and glared at her retreating cousin. “He’s such a piece of shit. I’m so, so sorry about that. I should’ve just let him take it out on me and move on like he always does.”

  “It’s fine. It was my fault.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. You’re the freaking victim here.” She sighed and leaned up against me. “Would it help if I said that Jarrod’s had it harder than anyone else I know?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then fuck him.”

  I laughed and motioned with my head. “Come on, we’d better hurry or we’ll be late.”

  “Let’s forget about the Four Horsemen of Fucking Assholes and have some fun.” She hurried off ahead of me while I watched Jarrod and the others turn the corner and head out into the quad.

  Before he disappeared from view, I swear he turned back and looked at me—and smiled.

  That smile made my spine shiver.

  For as much as I hated him grabbing me like that, there was something intense about being that close.

  He could’ve broken me. One twist of his wrist, one ounce of pressure, and I would’ve cracked open and screamed. Instead, he’d held me right on that edge of being too much and controlled me into submission.

  “Are you coming?” Robyn stood a few feet away, arms crossed, smile back on her face.

  “Yeah, sure, let’s get going.”

  Jarrod Hale. Bastard, asshole, violent piece of shit.

  And the sort of monster I needed.

  Also by B. B. Hamel

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