A Mafia Royals Romance - Book cover

A Mafia Royals Romance

Rachel Van Dyken

Chapter Three

Claire

The guy had a death wish.

Mouth dry, I tried to look normal as I lifted my water glass to my lips. I nearly choked when he pressed down. The pressure was driving me insane—the need to ride his hand, move against him, strangle him…

And he seemed to love it.

The devastating grin on his face was almost too much to take in.

Did I put that grin there?

“So, how’s Eagle Elite?” A guy that literally looked like he just stepped off a magazine cover high-fived Asher and asked. He looked younger than the rest of the uncles, as Asher called him. I couldn’t remember his name for the life of me. I just knew he had the youngest kids.

“Dante,” Asher said under his breath with pride.

Ah, another scary one.

The one that took down several students on campus, who took over the Eagle Elite throne, then disappeared. The woman next to him smiled wide.

She was too pretty for words.

Who were these people?

What was this world? I mean, it’s not like I wasn’t accustomed to money—my uncle was loaded—but it’s not like I lived in his mansion or on his yacht. My mom worked as a VP for his company, and my father was a surgeon. This was next level beauty, next level money—the kind that makes the world go round.

Or people disappear?

“Um, it’s good…” I found my voice just as Asher pulled away his hand. Thank God. “We have US History together.”

“Have you gotten to our chapter yet?” Dante asked with an innocent smirk.

I gawked.

“He’s kidding.” Asher laughed as chuckles erupted around the table. More wine was poured, more questions asked.

And I ate.

Or I tried to eat while all the powerful men and women around me asked questions.

More wine was brought an hour later.

A knife was thrown toward Tex’s face. He moved out of the way, then threw a fork back, nearly hitting a guy named Sergio who caught it without looking up.

“So,” another one of the uncles, one who made me so uncomfortable that I almost hid behind Asher, spoke. “What are your intentions with Marco?”

Right. Marco. Not Asher to them.

“You do mean after I found them naked together, right?” Chase piped up.

Humiliation complete, I groaned into my hands. Nobody seemed upset; instead, they seemed excited? Could that be right? Parents who encourage wild, crazy sex with a relative stranger and pour their eighteen-year-olds wine?

“Dad…” Asher’s tone shifted. It sliced through the room—the way he said Dad, his voice rasped, his tone dropped. And I realized, I was very much in over my head. These people were killers. This wasn’t Marvel, more like Suicide Squad.

“I really like him.” I interrupted the tense moment.

The guy across from me grinned. “Mmm.” He reached down and pulled out a folder; it was black, and it had my name on it. “Understand that men like us are curious.”

“Because I’m not Italian?” I wondered out loud.

The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. “Nah, Claire, it’s not because of who you aren’t… it’s because of who you are.”

“Come again?” I wondered out loud.

“Step. Away.” A familiar voice sounded. Meanwhile, I hadn’t even heard the door close, what in the world? Slowly I turned.

A gun was held to Asher’s head.

My uncle, on the other end of it.

I jumped to my feet, knocking my chair on its side.

His eyes raked over me, then he nodded to Nixon. “Thanks for the text.”

“Figured the jet would get you here faster.” Nixon just grinned like he was enjoying himself.

“Nikolai?” Asher craned his neck around.

“Uncle Nikolai?”

“Were you or were you not just having sex with my niece?” His finger pressed the trigger.

This was not happening.

Uncle Nikolai was stupid rich.

Famous.

Incredible.

My mom’s boss.

I would do anything for him.

“Right, was getting to that part.” The other guy smiled. “She’s a Petrov… surprise!”

“It’s like this family just can’t stay away from Russia,” Sergio said under his breath, earning stares his way and a kiss from his wife.

“Um, can someone explain…” My voice trailed off when Asher winked at me and then gave Nikolai a playful shrug.

With a sigh, Nikolai lowered his gun and stared Asher down. “You’re lucky you’re one of my favorites.”

Asher rolled his eyes. “We’re all your favorite, you can’t help it.”

“Wine?” Nixon held up a bottle.

Nikolai took the entire thing, not taking my eyes off me. “Do your parents know?”

“What do you mean, do they know? It’s been like four hours!”

“Five.” Asher coughed. I glared at him; he just shrugged with a smile. “Sorry, I’m a numbers guy.”

“Just don’t ask him to go past ten,” Violet said sweetly, earning an eye roll from him.

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around any of this.

My uncle.

Russian.

I mean, I knew that we had Russian blood in us, compliments of Nikolai and his wife, but still.

I frowned down at my hands. “Is this a problem?”

Nikolai burst out laughing while the rest of the guys at the table snickered.

“Yes, because Italians are a pain in the ass to deal with at Christmas, so loud… never any vodka.”

“He lies,” Sergio said in a bored voice. “We always have vodka; he’s just pissed because it’s Tito’s…”

Nikolai made a face.

“What are you even doing here?” I blurted. “I haven’t seen you since I left for school!”

He just grinned that good looking grin that got him on the front cover of People magazine and shrugged. “We all have our connections, don’t we?”

Asher raised his hand. “Question, when were you guys going to tell me that her uncle has a scary amount of kills to his name? Anyone? Anyone at all?”

“Oh, that’s why we called him.” Chase flashed us both a grin. “You know, figured it was smart to have a legit doctor do the whole reasons why you don’t have sex in your dorm room talk, then again I realized I didn’t have a leg to stand on, neither does Nixon, Sergio, don’t even get me started on cousin Vic…” A tall, brooding guy with enough guns strapped to his chest, rolled his eyes. Had he seriously been standing by the door the whole time? “And Tex, well he just plowed right through—” A gun was pointed at Chase, “HEY! No weapons at the table!”

Tex shrugged, gun still pointed. “I’m the Godfather.”

I mean, he wasn’t wrong…

“Shoot him, Chase, I’m next in line.” Another male voice snickered, earning my attention. Yup, all beautiful. Every last one of them.

“Dom doesn’t have the balls,” Tex said dryly.

“I don’t need a sex talk.” I felt the need to say. “Is this how every family dinner goes?”

Everyone fell silent as if the silence meant they agreed with each other.

I moved away from the table, needing some space away from the crazy, well that and my uncle’s watchful eyes. Asher joined me, clutching my hand in his.

And then I found myself walking away while Nikolai chased Asher and me down.

“Hey.” Nikolai grabbed my hand and spun me back around. “You know we’re just giving you shit, right? I only flew down to scare him, and he’s still wearing a smug expression handed down by his equally smug father.”

“Standing, right here.” Asher waved at us.

“You know—” Nikolai’s face darkened “—once you’re in… that’s it, there is no escape…”

“Are you talking from experience?” I asked in a weak voice.

“We all have blood on our hands,” he said somberly. “Some more than others.”

“He’s some,” Asher piped up. “Just in case you were curious.”

“Coming from the guy who had his first kill at twelve?” Nikolai made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. I dropped Asher’s hand, my legs heavy, head swimming with questions.

Twelve?

Years?

Old?

I was still playing with Barbies! And he had a gun? Okay, maybe not Barbies, more like makeup, but the thought of it was outrageous!

“Thanks, Nik.” Asher rubbed the back of his head with his hand and did a small circle like he wasn’t sure whether to strangle something or just let what Nikolai had said take root in my mind. “Give us a minute?”

Nikolai bit back a curse and then turned on his heel and called back. “Get her pregnant I cut off two fingers and your pinky toe.”

“Pinky?” I whispered hoarsely.

“Helps a person balance and all that.” Asher waved me off like it was a joke when I knew that it wasn’t—Nikolai meant every word, didn’t he?

I frowned.

“Something wrong?” Asher cupped my face with his hands. “I mean other than the obvious.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a beautiful smile, one that I wanted to focus on because if I could focus on that smile, then everything else didn’t matter, right? It just faded into the background.

I exhaled a slow and steady breath. “Do you think my mom knows? About Nikolai?”

His eyes searched mine. “The truth?”

I nodded. “Always.”

“I’m going to assume your mom and dad both know more than they’re willing to admit. I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

I waited.

He licked his lips and lowered his mouth until I could feel his air, his words against my face. “Telling you anything about this life only puts you in danger. So, I’m going to bet they kept you in the dark on purpose. Not that it helped. They sure as hell aren’t going to give you daughter of the year award for associating with me.”

“Shoot, and I was so looking forward to the ceremony.” I teased.

He captured my mouth like he couldn’t help it then wrapped his muscular arms around my body. I sighed as his tongue dove deeper, his hands gripping my ass and jerking me against him.

Asher pulled away his eyes searched mine. “He always said it would be like this.”

“He?”

Asher kissed my forehead and wrapped an arm around me, guiding me toward the back of the house, the suits as he called them ignored us completely, but each of them had earpieces in fit for the CIA.

“My dad.” His voice was filled with pride. “He said that when you find that person, the one who reaches into your soul and refuses to let go—that you make sure never to give them any reason to run.” His face darkened as he stopped walking. “His first wife…” He licked his lips. “It’s why I wear the horse necklace.”

“But you didn’t know her.” I fished. “Right? I mean, that gorgeous woman sitting next to Chase is your mom?”

“Absolutely.” He shrugged. “But it still bothers him, every year on that day, it bothers everyone that you could love someone so deeply, so painfully, only to have them rat you out. Money…” He shook his head and looked down at the wet grass. “It wrecks the best of us.”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

He was silent as we kept walking. I dumbly followed him, at this point I’d probably follow him into a grave and go, cool we spooning while they pour dirt on us or what?

I was acting insane.

He made me insane.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a laugh. This was crazy. Wasn’t it?

“How did he know?” I asked once we reached what looked like a pool house. Asher opened the door and then shut it behind us.

The thing was as big as my house back home. Two stories of perfection, flat-screen TV, full kitchen, a balcony to kill for, and what looked like a sauna and steam room right next to a theater room.

Asher went to the freezer and pulled out a bottle of chilled vodka.

“He says she yelled at him a lot.” He smirked as he pulled out two glasses and dumped a circular ice cube in each. When his eyes met mine, I almost backed away. He looked ready to attack, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for more of him because he was the type of guy that stole pieces of your heart before you consented to give them away.

It was terrifying.

Maybe more than the violence.

More than the look in his eyes.

The way he couldn’t help but demand everything from me and expect me to just hand it over, all of it, his.

“So, yelling’s the way to your heart?” I joked.

“You have seen my family, right?” He handed me a glass and let out an amused laugh. “To… new friendships.”

“Is that what we are?” I tossed back the vodka like a pro and held out my glass. “Friends?”

Slowly, he drained the vodka, his eyes never leaving mine. “Guess that’s up to you… Nikolai warned you already, you’re either in or you’re out, no in-between for people like us, Claire.”

“No pressure.” I set my glass down on the table and then ran my hands down his shoulders, down his chest, feeling his hard-muscled stomach. Damn, the guy had more rivets than necessary, didn’t he? Like his body couldn’t help but build muscle on top of muscle even if all he drank was vodka and wine. In what world did an eighteen-year-old have a body like that?

He slapped my hands away and crossed his arms. “No playing without purchasing.”

“What’s your price?” I tilted my head, scrunched up my nose, and waited for him to say something ridiculous.

His expression sobered as his arms dropped to his sides. “You. I just want you.”

“And then what?”

“And then we try to stay alive.”

“You’re serious?”

“Life, death, love, the only things you can count on… So… are you in?”

The question buzzed in my head.

And I knew it was one of those moments I would look back on and see myself standing in the middle of the road. One path led to a boring life married to an equally boring person, living in the suburbs and making pot roast. Maybe to some people that sounded great.

But to the left? I saw nothing but him.

Adventure.

Danger.

I could taste it in the air.

With a jerk, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a damning, beautiful kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” I rasped against his lips.

“You may have to do it again,” He pulled his shirt over his head, then followed with mine, “And again,” He was on his knees in front of me, tugging my skinny jeans down, gripping my thighs with both hands, sliding those rough hands down my skin. I had a moment of thanks that I’d shaved my legs the night before. A shiver wracked my body as his hands reached my ankles, my flip flops went flying, my jeans met a similar fate. And he stayed there just like that like he was seconds away from either worshiping me with his mouth or proposing.

I wasn’t sure which was more terrifying.

Blue eyes flashed, Asher’s smile was equal parts intense and sexy, I wasn’t sure a girl could ever truly get used to being looked at that way. I couldn’t stop shaking, and he’d already seen me naked.

He reached behind him and pulled out a small knife.

I didn’t back up even though my heart told me to run.

He slid the knife across his palm and then held it out to me, still on his knees. Trembling, I held out my hand face up.

The cut was fast.

Painful.

The burn was almost erotic as he used that same knife, sliding it up my thigh until it came into contact with my thong. The sound of fabric cutting had me squeezing my eyes shut as the flimsy piece of material landed somewhere near my feet.

Blood dripped from his palm onto mine.

I shuddered as the pain dulled like a pulsing heat between us.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

With each drip onto my hand, I felt a high, like my body couldn’t help but be tied to his in this supernatural and oddly holy way.

Slowly he stood to his feet. I swayed toward him as he pressed the knife between my breasts, and with one jerk, my bra was cut in half. He moved the blade to the straps. I flinched with each tear.

And stared down at my discarded clothes.

The knife joined my clothes.

And then he pressed his palm to mine. I let out a cry of pain at his touch. The stinging was back. His mouth was hot and heavy on the back of my neck as he moved my hair to the side with his free hand.

Our fingers tangled as blood pulsed between our palms.

And then he flipped me around. His mouth hot on mine, his lips parted, tongue on tongue, fighting for dominance. He braced me against the kitchen wall. His bloody palm pressed against my heart as he lifted me with his free arm. I could feel his heartbeat through the wound.

“Look at me,” he breathed. “Look at us.”

I opened my eyes and stared between our bodies; a bloody handprint was pressed over my heart. “Blood in. No out,” he whispered.

“Blood in.” My voice shook. “No out.” And then I unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down his legs with my foot.

“Clever.”

“Just trying to be useful.” I kissed him again, forgetting that this wasn’t just a one-night stand, sex, or even a two-night stand.

He was making me a promise.

And I was agreeing to it.

To everything.

No regrets.

“You’re mine,” he said through clenched teeth as he pressed punishing kiss after punishing kiss against my mouth.

I moved with him, gripping him in my hand. “Yours. Yes. Yes.”

He gritted his teeth then thrust into me. No warning, no hesitation.

I sucked in a sharp breath as our bloody palms met and pressed into each other, as he anchored them against the wall along with my body. Moving inside me, claiming me in a way I would never come back from.

“It should always, always be like this,” he vowed.

I let out a whimper.

“Don’t hold back. Not from me.” His lips were on my ear, then my neck, waves of pleasure pounded into me until all I saw were ocean blue eyes and full wicked lips.

Body shaking, I couldn’t hold out any longer. Maybe he could sense it, maybe he was just as close. With a growl, he cried out my name.

My head fell back against the wall.

“Look,” his voice was hoarse. “Look at us…”

I turned to where he was looking, and next to my head were two bloody handprints in the shape of a heart.

“Blood in. No out,” he whispered again. “Get ready for one hell of a ride, Claire.”

“Didn’t we just do that?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I chose well.”

“What? You were doing background checks for two months or something?”

He just shrugged, then said, “I’m his favorite nephew.”

“What?”

“You really don’t remember?”

He was still inside me, and we were having a perfectly normal conversation. What was wrong with us?

“High School Graduation, I was in the third row, you wore pink. I asked Nikolai who you were, and he said over his dead body. I just assumed he was being an ass, had no idea it was actually because you were his niece. But he noticed… and yet here we are… nobody is sent to Eagle Elite by accident. They’re chosen…” With that, he pulled away and held out his bloody hand. “Ready for an adventure?”

“Wait, you planned this?”

He pulled me against his chest. “Like I said, when you know, you know.” He winked. “I just didn’t want to pressure you into anything, and then I walked by your room and…”

I felt my face flush.

He grinned. “I’m an Abandonato. I get what I want.”

“Arrogant.”

“That too. Both start with A so…”

I smacked him on the chest. “This should be creepy.”

He shrugged. “It’s the mafia. We don’t do creepy, we do scary as fuck, and for the record, I’m not letting you go.”

“Do you see me running?”

He sighed; it was the first time I felt this guard slip. “No, but you should.”

“How about we have more vodka…”

“Cheers to Russia.” He grinned.

I smiled back and realized that this was where I belonged, where I would always belong, apparently—in my enemy’s arms.

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