Falling for the Killer: A Dark Possessive Mafia Romance, B.B Hamel [good story books to read .TXT] 📗

Bea winked at him. “The boys like their toys and their cash, I’ll admit to that.” She laughed to herself. “Would you two like anything?”

“No, thank you,” I said, and Gian shook his head.

“Well then, you holler if you want anything, or if that salty old bastard’s being a jerk to you.” Bea grinned and left after depositing us in front of the Don’s office door.

Gian took my hand before we went inside and came close. I smelled him, musky and salty and warm. I tilted my chin up and kissed his neck.

“Follow my lead,” he said softly. “No matter what, remember that I have your best interests in mind.”

“Should I be worried?” I asked, which was a silly thing to say. I was already trembling with fear and uncertainty.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, and pulled away. I felt like a part of my skin was being peeled from my body. He opened the door and I followed him inside.

Dean sat in a chair in front of his father’s desk smoking a cigar. The smell of it was thick and disgusting. The Don was leaning back in his chair, sipping a whiskey, and both the boys were grinning at each other. As we entered, Dean stood up and shook Gian’s hand.

“Welcome,” the Don said. “I heard you had one hell of an adventure yesterday.” The Don winked at me, and I shivered a little. Calling it an adventure was one hell of an understatement.

“Noting I couldn’t handle,” Gian said.

“I know that boy Brett’s hurt again,” the Don said, clucking his tongue. “Under police protection now, too.”

“He won’t talk,” Gian said with a hint of anger.

“We know that,” Dean said gently, putting a hand on Gian’s shoulder. “My father wants to send the lawyer over to help him out. And we’ll make sure he gets the best medical care possible.”

Gian relaxed, if only slightly. “I’d appreciate that,” he said.

“Then it’ll be done,” the Don said, nodding at Dean. “How about you go make the arrangements while we talk?”

“Gladly,” Dean said, winked at me, then left the room.

Gian stood rigid in front of the desk. I lingered back toward the door, afraid of the way the Don looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Cigar smoke lingered toward the ceiling and cast strange, swirling shadows over the Don’s face, making his already gaunt cheeks seem more skeleton-like.

“What can I do for you, Gian?” the Don asked.

“I’m here for two things,” Gian said. “First, I want your permission to make this relationship with Ash a long-term thing.”

I blinked rapidly and looked between them. I didn’t realize he needed permission to be with me—but then again, I was an Adamson, and the Don made it clear that my family connections complicated things for him.

“So it’s gone that way, huh?” the Don said, frowning deeply. “I’ll admit that I didn’t expect it. I assumed she would’ve been back with her family within the week.”

“We all did,” I said, trying to smile a little.

The Don barked a laugh. “And you’re getting bolder. I like that in a woman.”

I flushed, but not with embarrassment. The way he looked at me was more than a little creepy.

Gian shifted a little to put himself between me and the Don, which was interesting. He was protective as always.

“She’s pregnant with my child,” Gian said. “That’s not going to change. She wants to leave her family and I want her to come stay with me. I don’t know what’ll happen beyond that, but we’ll figure it out.”

“And I assume you’re asking me to do some damage control,” the Don said.

“I’m mostly asking you to accept this,” Gian said. “I don’t need anything beyond that.”

The Don nodded and sipped his drink. He put the whiskey down and let out a low sigh. “You know, as you get older, drinking becomes easier,” he said. “When you’re young, it’s all get wasted and have fun. Then the hangovers get worse and worse. But now? I don’t mind the hangovers. I don’t need to get drunk, either.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Gian said with a straight face.

The Don laughed and let out a breath. “The girl’s complicated, but if you want her, I won’t stop you.”

I felt a strange flood of relief. I hadn’t expected it—part of me thought I’d run screaming from this room and never look back. And yet hearing that the Don would be okay with me living with Gian felt good in some very strange and fucked-up way.

“Thank you, sir,” Gian said. “And now there’s one more thing.”

“Go ahead,” the Don said, gesturing impatiently.

Gian hesitated and glanced back at me like he wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I saw something harden in his expression, like he’d chosen the difficult path and would follow it no matter what.

“I want a meeting with Colm Healy,” Gian said.

The Don raised an eyebrow and I sucked in a shocked breath. My heart began to patter quickly and I had to take a step back, my hands searching until I found the wall. I leaned against it, steadying myself, trying to understand why Gian would want a meeting with his enemy.

Colm Healy tried to kill us. Maybe it was Stuart bankrolling the operation, but it was Colm’s family that was behind the attacks. They kidnapped me and nearly murdered one of Gian’s soldiers. The idea that he’d meet with Colm seemed crazy, and I couldn’t imagine a situation in which Colm would ever agree.

The Don leaned forward and placed his drink back down on the desk. “That doesn’t sound like you, Gian,” he said softly. “The Capo I know would rather break into Colm’s house and murder him than have a meeting.”

Gian grimaced and glanced back toward me, and I understood what he was doing. It was misguided and for all the wrong reasons, but he was doing it for me, doing this so that we could avoid more attacks and maybe get through this alive.

But not just for me. He