Falling for the Killer: A Dark Possessive Mafia Romance by B.B Hamel (books to read for beginners .txt) 📗

“I’m sure,” he said. “Trust me, this is important. Do you want to go over the plan again?”

I shook my head. I didn’t need him to remind me of my job. All I needed to do was confirm that Stuart was the one who paid those guys to sit on that stoop, and then I was done. I could rush back here, get in this truck, and ideally never see Stuart again.

But I had a feeling I wouldn’t be that lucky. Stuart wouldn’t leave me alone, like a lingering cold or some horrible bacterial infection that crawled beneath my skin and made my whole body rot from the inside out.

I hated him so much for making me have to deal with him still.

“I can do this,” I said, taking a breath, and opened the door.

“I’ll be nearby,” he said, and got out with me. I felt a little better, knowing he’d be watching. “Stuart won’t talk if I’m right there with you, though.”

“I know,” I said. “You’re right, I just hate this.”

Gian stepped up onto the sidewalk next to me and took my hand in his. I was surprised and didn’t pull away as he lifted my fingers to his lips. He kissed them and smiled at me, rubbing his thumb against my knuckles.

“You’re stronger than you realize,” he said and nodded once. “Now go get Stuart to tell you everything.”

I pulled my hand away and felt a blush come to my cheeks. “Fine, just don’t kiss my hand again like I’m the queen or something.”

He laughed as I walked away. “You’re not the queen, but you are my princess,” he said loudly, and I caught a goofy look from a young girl sitting on a nearby stoop. I felt my cheeks burning as I hurried down the block toward the park.

Rittenhouse was a popular spot right in downtown Philadelphia. It was a small, shady oasis, the paved paths lined with benches. Buskers played music and sang and juggled, and couples sat on blankets in the grass, or lounged out in the sun. I loved Rittenhouse and always had—it was one of those places in Philly where you could feel like you were a part of the city, and not just some anonymous person walking along its streets.

I found a bench right in the center along the main path and waited. An older couple walked past, holding hands, their hair gone white, the man loping with an awkward shuffle, and I wondered if I’d have that one day. My parents definitely wouldn’t—they barely gave a damn about each other. I don’t think I’d ever seen my parents kiss, let alone hold hands, or even act like they enjoyed being around each other.

They were like a business partnership. My mother ran the household and raised the kids, while my father went to work and earned absurd amounts of money. They both worked at maintaining the family status by going to events, making the right friends, donating to the right causes, and generally doing all the stuff that rich people were supposed to do. My mother was the backbone of the family, and my father was the beating heart, but they didn’t seem like they had any real affection.

That’s how it would be if I married Stuart. I knew it deep down. There’d never be love between us, even if he stopped being an abusive little fuck. I didn’t think I could love anyone that my parents approved of, mostly because it was a tiny pool, and I’d met them all already. I knew none of them were for me, and yet my parents didn’t seem to care.

Breeding and family name. That was all that mattered.

I sighed and leaned my head back. I wished for a second that I could be as free as all the people scattered around me. An old woman knitted on a bench across the path. Two young guys in business casual clothes drank coffee and laughed about a video one of them played on his phone. A kid with dreadlocks and ratty clothes played a ukulele and sang in a high-pitched warbling falsetto in front of a hat with a few dollars shoved inside.

I couldn’t imagine any of them thought about ruining hundreds of years of breeding and money-making.

What I wanted didn’t matter. I grew up thinking that the only important thing in my life was my family, but now I could see how empty it all was, just a beautiful vessel with nothing inside.

Stuart walked toward me from the opposite side of the park. I watched him come closer, and a smile spread across his lips when he spotted me. I felt a chill run down my skin, like a weasel winding its way through my veins, and I had to remind myself that Gian was somewhere nearby, watching for the first sign of problems.

“Hello, Ash,” Stuart said, looming over me. He wore boat shoes, khaki slacks, and a polo shirt. His hair was slicked back and expensive sunglasses blocked his ugly, empty eyes. He grinned at me, all white teeth and perfect dimples. It disgusted me.

“Thanks for coming,” I said.

He sat down and left space between us. “I didn’t think I had much of a choice when your new man reached out.”

“He’s not my new anything,” I said automatically, though I wondered.

“What can I do for you, Ash?” Stuart asked. “I thought we’d have nothing to do with each other after the last little incident.”

“You mean, when you were hurting me, and Gian stepped in to stop you?” I glared at him defiantly, and he slowly took his sunglasses off.

He smiled at me, showing all his teeth like a crocodile.

“Please, don’t be dramatic,” he said. “I wasn’t hurting you at all. If I wanted to hurt you, I would hurt you, Ash.”

I pulled my gaze away and had to control myself. He was baiting me, messing with me, because he knew he could. He was