Carlyle: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Raven Scott

  “I would love to, thank you.” Warmth suffused my chest, and I popped open the fridge to put the box on the middle shelf. “It’s a little too late for lunch but too early for dinner. How are you two enjoying your overly abundant leisure time?”

  “What do you mean ‘too early’? It’s four-thirty.” I slid back into my chair to continue picking through the mail, and Carlyle sat next to me to lean back and prop his arm behind his head. Casting him a curious look, I ripped open the side of another envelope, and he scanned me through narrowed eyes.

  “Well, since you’re not going to answer me . . . ” Thwacking him with my envelope right in his stupid, cocky smirk, I couldn’t help but grin, and his gaze flickered to Natasha and lost that spark of appraisal. “What about you, Natasha? How’s your little vacation?”

  “Uh . . . it’s fine. I’m making good progress on the program. Here’s a question, Carlyle—” Turning to us, my sister scrunched up her nose, and the crackling of oil filled the second of silence that blossomed. “Have you ever said ‘gonna’ or ‘gotta’ or, like, what’s with the vocal propriety?”

  “Vocal propriety?” Amusement thickened his tone, and my cheeks flamed in secondhand embarrassment as I shot my sister a glare. Who the Hell asks a question like that, anyway! “You know, I don’t think I ever have, no. My father always told me growing up that how I talk reflected who I was.”

  “Anyway!” Cutting Natasha off, I set down my mail to turn to Carlyle, and he huffed a small laugh as I held my cheek on my fist on the table. “What’s up with you? I’m going to get my new phone tomorrow, so I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve bugged my apartment or something.”

  “I’m going on a trip all next week, actually. I’m leaving on Sunday. To be honest, I really am not looking forward to it.” Caution shadowed his eyes, and my brows drew together as they flickered between my sister and I. “I’m going to Nevada. Since you’re both indisposed at the moment, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? Tuesday, I have a business meeting in Reno, but I’ll be spending the rest of the week in Las Vegas.”

  Was he nervous about inviting me? My lips thinned at the thought, and Carlyle’s gaze narrowed into fine points on me. Goosebumps blanketed my arms and the exposed part of my chest, and excitement at going on Vegas bubbled up in my gut. I could feel my sister staring at me, waiting for me to say something— well, more like glaring, silently urging me to accept.

  “As long as we don’t get plastered and wake up married, I’d more than love to go.” Nodding firmly, my face heated at the small, pleased, triumphant smile Carlyle offered me, and I smiled back. “I’m not really a gambler, though.”

  “There’s many, many other things to do aside from gambling.” The sensual thread in his tone slithered around my abdomen, and my cheeks threatened to melt off from the fire creeping up my neck. God, he was so damn hot, and rich, and . . . what would be so wrong waking up married to him, anyway? “As long as you two enjoy getting a little gritty, I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

  “Gritty like how? Because, okay, I won’t get sloshed, but I’ll definitely be tipsy the entire time. Just enough to have fun.” Natasha was facing the deep fryer again, tossing the question over her shoulder as she took the chicken legs out in all their golden-brown goodness. Or, I hoped she’d done them right, but I couldn’t look when Carlyle caught my gaze as he leaned on his forearms on the table. He didn’t even acknowledge that my sister said anything, and I held my breath when he licked his lips in preparation.

  “What do you feel about . . . cage fighting?” My eyebrows nearly flew off my face at that, and Carlyle very clearly chose his next words extremely carefully. “Specifically, two men beating the crap out of each other for entertainment?”

  “Do you find that entertaining?” I honestly wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond, and Carlyle leaned back to rub his jaw and neck before nodding curtly. Blinking hard, I cocked my head as I thought about it, and the tension in the air steadily rose between us. “Um . . . I don’t know. I’ve never watched two dudes beat each other up for fun. Do you do this kind of thing a lot?”

  “Often enough. I don’t make specific trips to Vegas just for this, but I’m not much of a gambler, either.” His own confession seemed to make him feel a little more assured, and I pursed my lips thinly as my brows drew together thoughtfully. “I brought it up because I wondered. I hadn’t made plans yet because I wasn’t sure if you would want to go.”

  “You make plans for this kind of thing?” This conversation just got weirder and more outlandish every time Carlyle opened his mouth, and he nodded firmly. “Uh . . . okay . . . I mean, I don’t . . . like I said, I’ve never watched anything like that, so I can’t knock it ‘til I try it, right?”

  “What are you saying, you never watched something like that, Valerie? You watched those cheerleaders beat the shit out of the dude who gave them Chlamydia and totally enjoyed it.” Laughing at the memory, my sister plopped the colander of fried chicken on the table, but Carlyle didn’t seem impressed by that.

  “Well, yeah, I enjoyed it because I turned down the opportunity to sleep with him. And besides, he got what he deserved.” My reply was exactly what he expected, judging by the relaxing of his face, and I started gathering up my mail as Natasha went back to the stovetop for the sides. “I’ve never been in a situation like that, so who knows? Even if I don’t enjoy it, it’ll still be an experience, and we’ll still be in Vegas. There’s plenty of other things to do.”

  To be honest, I couldn’t even picture what that might be like, and Carlyle reached to squeeze my knee under the table. Was he one of those rich people who liked doing awful things just because he knew he could get away with it?

  I’m gonna ask him about it. If nothing else, I’m confident he wouldn’t lie.

  21

  Valerie

  A phone chimed that wasn’t mine— because I didn’t have one— and Carlyle groped blindly on the nightstand with his free hand. Cuddling against his side, I gnawed on my lower lip and twirled his chest hairs around my finger, my eyes glued to my laptop screen. His warm, rough skin against my cheek felt so nice, and I inhaled a deep, leisurely breath thickened with his smell and held it.

  “Are you going to ask me, or did you just want me to tell you, Valerie?” Setting his phone down, Carlyle mumbled against my crown, and his fingers buried deep under my loose bun to knead my scalp. “I know you have questions.”

  “What’re they like?” As much as I’d pre-prepared my question, Carlyle had prepared his answers, and I tore my eyes off the movie to glance up at him under my lashes. His jaw ticked against my forehead, and I turned back to my laptop just as an explosion, well, exploded.

  “It depends on which one you go to. Normally, they’re in seedy abandoned buildings, and no one knows where or when until about an hour before. Alternatively, you can rent them as long as you have your own space. If it’s private property, and everyone’s consenting adults, the cops can’t do anything about it if they show up. To be honest, I’ve never done either. I attend a charity event twice a year that uses these setups. Coincidentally, I donate quite a lot because I feel it’s a good, proper cause. The guy who runs it is very . . . well, he’s a character, for sure.”

  “Why’d you bring it up if you’ve never been to one?”

  “Because I wanted to gauge your reaction.” Answering quickly, Carlyle twisted to face me fully, and my brows furrowed in confusion. “I wouldn’t make you endure something if you don’t like, but I also don’t know anything you like to do, Valerie, except draw, of course, but I definitely got the short stick in that department. I figured that I’d ask because it’s pretty extreme, and we can always backtrack.”

  “Oh, kinda like having too much as opposed to too little.” Grappling my ass to squeeze us together, Carlyle nodded again, a seriousness draping his sharp features. My mind churned, trying to burp up an idea, any idea, and I licked my lips heavily. “I think I would much rather get locked in a
hotel room with you rather than anything else . . . unless there was, like, a drunk drawing thing or something.”

  “If your sister wasn’t here at that moment, I wouldn’t have invited her. It’s impolite to just ignore her when she’s standing right there.” That brutally honest response drew a little giggle from me, and it ended in a gasp when Carlyle slipped his hand under my shorts and panties. “What do you like to do that’s not sex or drawing?”

  “That’s pretty much my entire personality.” He cracked a smirk, and I giggle as I shook my head. “No . . . um . . . I guess my favorite thing to do that’s not sex and drawing is probably . . . hanging out with my sister? I mean, we’ve always worked, and I don’t even remember most of college. Whenever I had free time, I’d always do stuff with her. I guess it’s kinda not the answer you were looking for, but my life is kinda boring.”

  “Trust me, I understand that. I have to actively find things to do, but most of the time, it doesn’t seem worth it. I have two younger brothers, but we’re not that close. We only get together because our dad’s a sadistic sociopath and loves watching us squirm.” A little laugh escaped me, and Carlyle’s smile strained a little, creating crow wrinkles around his eyes. “I know it’s only Wednesday, but every day is Saturday when you’re between jobs. Theo being off, I was hoping to catch you alone. I even let my driver off for the night.”

  “We’re alone now. What did you wanna do?” I expected some sexy comeback, but Carlyle sat up and took his hand out of my pants. Rolling onto my back, I paused the movie to watch him stand, and he gestured me up as he stood.

  “It’s scandalous, I know, but I thought I would drive myself somewhere for once.” Smiling broadly, I threw my legs over the side of my bed, and Carlyle waited patiently as I stuffed my legs into a pair of sweatpants. “You said you were getting your phone tomorrow. Why don’t we go tonight? We can go to Buffalo.”

  “Yeah, sure. When was the last time you drove?” This was gonna be fun— the upstate countryside, alone, going somewhere without telling anyone, and Carlyle smiled as eagerness dribbled from my tongue. “I haven’t driven since moving here. Natasha and I saved up enough for the apartment and stuff before moving, but work and all that was within walking distance, so we put off getting a car.”

  “Wise financial decision. I don’t drive nearly as often as getting driven around, but every few weeks, I get the urge.”

  “Oh, wait . . . I should put on different pants if I’m gonna be out in public.” Shimmying out of my sweat pants and booty shorts, I fixed my panties against my ass cheeks, and Carlyle hummed softly in appreciation. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been putting off getting a phone because I just put it off all the time.”

  “When you work for me, you’ll get company-issued phones. Speaking of, what are those other two doing while they’re waiting for Natasha to finish her project?” Pulling open the door of my closet, I flipped through pairs of jeans as Carlyle posed his question. “Hopefully, they’re using their time constructively. Natasha had initially said it would take three weeks, but since she’s not on the job and can devote her time fully, I expect it sooner.”

  “They’re doing all the planning and pre-work. Fred was a comic book storyboard guy before he went into IT. I’ll just be drawing and illustrating everything. Natasha’s doing all the scripting, and Marshal’s organizing everything.”

  “You’ve got a cute little team going on, Valerie. I can’t give you an edge because we’re sleeping together, but I really do hope you succeed.” I snatched a really nice pair of plain, leather pants off its hangar, and my chest warmed at Carlyle’s sincerity. “To be honest, I’ve had a crap work week, and it’s only half over.”

  “I am all ears if you wanna complain about it because I probably wouldn’t understand anyway.” Plopping on my bed, I glanced up as he scratched his jaw thoughtfully. Working my feet one by one into my pants, I carefully worked them up my legs, and I stood up before he opened his mouth.

  “Basically, I’m about to initiate a hostile takeover, but getting everything ready for it is exasperating. I knew things wouldn’t exactly go precisely the way I planned, but there’s been a major kink in the operation.” Bouncing to pull the soft leather up over my ass, I nodded even though I had absolutely no context to understand any of that. “It’s a hassle, but someone’s got to do it.”

  “That was a perfect time to say ‘gotta.’” Smirking at my own point, my smile widened at his deep, husky laugh, and I pulled the strings taut to tie them in a bow. “Anyway, I can’t imagine how much work goes into that. No wonder you need some downtime.”

  “My father and both my brothers decided to commandeer my building for the past three weeks, too. I have a feeling they’re not leaving any time soon.” He sounded so grumpy at that, and I stuck my feet into a pair of sneakers before sauntering over to him. Winding my arms around his neck, heat slithered up my sides when he rested his hands on my hips, and I ran my fingers up the back of his scalp through his hair.

  “Does anyone ever ask you what you want, or do they just shirk responsibility on you and expect you to deal with it?” Troubled quizzicality drew together his brows, and I ducked my face into his neck to lean into his embrace. Tentatively, strong arms crisscrossed my back, and Carlyle rested his cheek on my forehead to sigh heavily.

  “No one ever asks me what I want. I never realized before recently how much I . . . I really hate my life. I grew up being told I was the oldest, and I was always going to have to mop up messes whether I liked it or not.” My heart ached for Carlyle, and I tightened my grip on him as he squeezed my shoulders. “I don’t think I can answer that on any level.”

  Now, I had to show Carlyle a good time— we were gonna have fun, come Hell or high water.

  22

  Carlyle

  Buffalo seemed particularly beautiful in the twilight, and I glanced over at Valerie waved her hand out the window. We were stuck in traffic, but the usual frustration of it was lost to me— maybe because I didn’t have a destination. Of course, we were going to the mall, but getting there wasn’t exactly on my top five things to do in this car. Adjusting my grip on the wheel, I waited, my blinker flashing on the dash, for the long line of cars in the turn lane.

  “You’re older than your brothers, right? By how much?” Filling the silence, Valerie flopped her head to watch me through curious, bright eyes. “You already know Natasha and I are six minutes apart, and we’re an only child.”

  “Oran is three years younger than me, and Mateo is eight. I had a sister, but she died when I was twenty-two. She was six years younger than me.” Raking my hand through my hair, I inhaled a deep breath. Illya reminded me a lot of my sister, but it’d been a long time since I actually conjured her name. “Her name was Sonja.”

  “So, you were a big bad boss at the age of thirty. That’s not bad. I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Carlyle. My dad died when I was thirteen, and that’s when my mom went off the rails.” The honest to God truth was that Sonja’s death really put things into perspective— that she could be so bubbly and happy and nice, and still kill herself. Reaching over the center console, I held Valerie’s hand, and she tangled our fingers together with a forlorn sigh. “I used to think my mom loved my dad so much that she went crazy because he died, but then I realized she just couldn’t function without him. He was the money maker, and she was a stay-at-home mom. He went grocery shopping, and she didn’t know how to drive. All that stuff.”

  “I take it something happened to make you both move here?” I didn’t want to probe too deep too quickly, but Valerie only shrugged nonchalantly, her nose scrunching up in disgust. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  “Nah, it’s stereotypical. We’d been talking about it since our mom went to jail the third time, and my boyfriend cheated on me. When I found out about it, I just left. Didn’t tell him, didn’t leave a note, didn’t even get my stuff. I just disappeared on him. Natasha quit her job, and we took the trans-Amex from Dal
las to Florida up to New York. On the way, we decided this was the place.”

  “What the fuck?” The slur just burst from my mouth, loud and abrasive, and Valerie jumped a little with a small, surprised gasp. “How could you get cheated on?”

  She just smiled even as fire raced through my veins, and I exhale a flaming breath through my nose. The line of cars in front of me starting to move, but I didn’t let go of her hand as I propped my knee under the wheel. Driving wasn’t so alien, but usually, I was by myself, and now, I was fucking pissed.

  “I guess . . . ” Speaking up as I pulled into the turn just as the arrow turned yellow, Valerie’s voice dipped low. “I could’ve been a better girlfriend. I dated Trevor because he was boring, and the last thing I wanted to be involved in anything remotely exciting because exciting meant dangerous. We met in college, but we never lived together or anything. He was definitely one of those guys you get into a relationship to break up with, and I knew that from the start.”

  “That’s not an excuse for cheating. Any guy who cheats instead of just breaking up is a loser and doesn’t deserve any woman, let alone a woman like you.” Venom dribbled from my tongue like acid, and Valerie raised my hand to rub her cheek against the back of my palm. The thick hairs on my arm stood up, and I tightened my grip on her fingers even as a scowl threatened to curl my lip.

  “I know, Carlyle. It was like the straw that broke the camel’s back, is what I’m saying. It was a small thing that initiated catastrophic change for me. I realized that I couldn’t keep going like that. There was a lot of other stuff going on— like I said, my mom was on her way to jail again. I wasn’t with my sister, and that made me miserable. I’d graduated, but had absolutely no job prospects until Natasha found this job here. I mean, to her credit, she found it pretty quick, so I quit my job at a pizza place, and here we are, a little more than a year later.” Her cheek warmed against my palm, and I clenched my jaw hard when she sighed down the cuff of my shirt. “So that’s my butterfly moment. Here’s a question— what’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever spent money on?”