by Hamel, B. B.
The Killer's Fake Bride
A Possessive Dark Mafia Romance
BB Hamel
Contents
Get your free book!
1. Matteo
2. Sam
3. Matteo
4. Sam
5. Matteo
6. Sam
7. Matteo
8. Sam
9. Matteo
10. Sam
11. Matteo
12. Sam
13. Matteo
14. Sam
15. Matteo
16. Sam
17. Matteo
18. Matteo
19. Sam
Also by BB Hamel
Copyright © 2021 by B. B. Hamel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Coverluv Book Designs
Get your free book!
Sign up for my mailing list and find out about new releases, giveaways, and more.
Plus, get a free book and other awesome bonus material! >> Click here
1
Matteo
The city felt like it was on the edge of breaking apart, but deep inside an exclusive Healy crime family party, all that blood and death was far, far away.
From the outside, the house looked like any other in Philadelphia: simple brick, a few windows, black door. But inside, the polished wood floors gleamed and every inch of the structure was renovated in the last ten years, changing it from classic West Philly squalor into something opulent and absurd. Gilt lined the walls, lush carpets covered the living room, paintings hung on the walls. It was less of a row home and more of a mansion in miniature.
The room was packed. Men and women all in black stood around the edges next to the walls while in the middle of the space on top of a pile of cushions and a thick red Persian rug, two petite women knelt completely naked except for masks on their faces in front of a tall, muscular man with a long, hard cock. His mask was black and white, while the girls both wore peacock-feathered blue. The girl on the left had dark brunette hair and snow-pale skin, and she slowly took the man’s cock deep into her mouth, gagged once, then pulled back. The other girl, a slim blonde that looked like she spent a lot of time in a tanning bed, slid him into her throat before sucking his prick faster, lips moving up and down, spit slowly spiraling off his long shaft as he fucked her face.
Half the people ignored them. Some watched with varying levels of interest as the man pulled back and slid his cock between the brunette girl’s lips. The blonde girl kissed the brunette’s neck, caressed her thighs and throat, before she moved back behind the brunette to run her to tongue along the girl’s pussy and ass. The brunette kept sucking the big man’s cock, on all fours now and moaning loudly, honestly a little over the top, while the blonde went down on her from behind. Meanwhile, the guy grabbed the brunette’s face and pushed her deep along his shaft.
The whole thing was fake as hell. But a nice enough performance, if you were into that.
I wasn’t there to watch some hired talent fuck though, and it wasn’t my thing anyway. I preferred my women maskless and eager and not surrounded by a bunch of strangers.
No, I was there for a very particular reason, and I’d risked a lot to get an invitation.
Or to fake an invitation anyway.
I heard about this party three days ago. I knew this sort of thing happened in the Healy family, but a guy like me, some low-level street thug with no cred among the top of the crew, would never in a million years snag an invite.
It also didn’t help that I was a Valentino spy with orders to kill one of the Healy lieutenants.
But they didn’t know that, or at least I hoped not.
One of the guys I drank with at this Healy joint right next to UPenn’s campus was a midlevel brute named Sean, one of a thousand Shawns and Seans in the family, and the sort of guy you kept around for the sheer violence he was willing to unleash on anyone that got in his way. He wasn’t the brightest bastard in the world, but he had some access and so he was the perfect mark to cozy up to and get friendly with. We’d drink most nights, unless he was out cracking skulls or whatever the hell they had him do. I’d get him drunk and he’d tell me things, little things, small things, but I was good at turning small information into something much more important.
He showed me the invitation. Flashed it to me with a big smirk. “A little reward for a job well done,” he said, bragging.
Stupid bastard.
“What’s that?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know.
“Just one of those parties my bosses throw,” he said, shoving it back into his pocket. “For the rank and file guys, you know? Blood family doesn’t go to shit like this.”
I got him wasted. Made sure he was blacked out when we left that night around three and walked back through the city streets.
I stabbed him three times in the neck then cut his throat and left his body in an alley.
But the invite didn’t get any blood on it.
Unfortunately, the thing had his name, so I spent an inordinate amount of time making a very good fake.
Which was how I ended up watching some girl choke on a massive cock while another random chick licked her pussy from behind.
The big guy let out a loud growl. Seriously, he growled like he was some kind of bear, and the group changed positions. The brunette rode him while the blonde sat on his face, and both girls kissed and touched each other’s breasts and all that crap. After a few minutes, a couple of the random people watching around the edges walked over to the pillows, got down next to them, and started kissing.
Which surprised me. I didn’t realize it was that kind of party. And suddenly I understood why no blood members of the Healy family came to parties like this. Nobody wanted to be getting down and dirty with some stranger, only to realize it’s Cousin Jessica or whatever.
More of the onlookers began to join once the ice was broken. I didn’t recognize most of them, but I knew a few were important to the Healy family.
My guy wasn’t there yet. Not Sean—he was dead as hell. I was looking for a real lieutenant, a guy that went by Cullen. He was a young man, up and coming, with a scar next to his right lip and lots of tattoos. He was distinctive and I’d recognize him anywhere, but he wasn’t in the rapidly expanding orgy, and he wasn’t in the audience.
Bodies writhed on the pillows. Cocks, tits, ass, lots of places to fuck.
I moved deeper into the house. The people hanging around toward the kitchen spoke to each other in quiet tones and more of them ignored all the fucking going on, even though one girl was particularly loud, like actually screaming as if someone was killing her.
Which was possible, but unlikely.
I got the sense that most of these people had seen this all before.
Cullen was nowhere to be seen. I grabbed a glass of champagne from a girl wearing a catering outfit, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she thought of the burgeoning orgy. Maybe she wanted to join in, but I sort of doubted it, based on the number of out-of-shape and hairy dudes fucking vaguely bored-looking girls.
I lingered on the edges of the group and scanned the crowd again—and then spotted her.
Over toward the back left corner, not talking to anyone. Dark red hair, big green eyes, pretty pale skin. She looked at the orgy like it was the most fascinating and the most horrifying thing she’d ever seen. She drank in
quick sips from her wine glass and I guessed she was in her early twenties at most. Pretty, very pretty, wearing a tight blue dress that made her eyes seem even brighter and clung to her hips and breasts in a way that suggested she belonged out in the middle of those pillows, but would never go near something like that.
I drifted over, unable to help myself.
“You look as lost as I feel,” I said softly as I approached.
She looked up sharply. Confusion passed over her expression before she gave me a guarded smile. “How can you tell?”
I shrugged and stood next to her. The party shifted slightly as more people entered, forcing my shoulders to brush against hers.
“Just the way you’re watching whatever that is,” I said, nodding to the orgy. “You look like you’d rather gnaw off a leg than get involved.”
She grinned up at me. “Actually, I was thinking about joining in.”
“Then I might have to come with you.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I’m kidding. That’s not really my scene.”
“It’s not mine, either. I’m more of a one woman at a time sort of man. Call me old fashioned.”
“In this day and age? That’s practically medieval.”
“Really, it’s selfish. I want what I want, and I want it all to myself.”
She gave me a thoughtful little smile and sipped from her drink. “What’s your name?”
“Matteo. What’s yours?”
“Sam.” She extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Matteo.”
I shook it. She had smooth skin and a firm grip. I liked that in a woman. “What brings you here tonight?” I asked.
“Family business,” she said. “I tried to get out of it, but—” She shrugged. “What about you?”
“I killed to get in here, but I’m not so sure how I feel about it now.” I showed her my teeth.
She laughed and nodded a little. “I’ve never come to one of these before, but I knew this happened. It’s sort of an open secret, right? I’m still a little scandalized seeing it though.”
“Scandalized? Look at you.”
She blushed. “What can I say? I’m a little repressed.”
“I very much doubt that. There’s nothing repressed about not wanting to get up in that sweaty mess.”
“I know, but still. By the standards of the family, I’m practically a nun.”
“Well, sister, I doubt there are many nuns that look like you.”
She snorted. “That’s a terrible line.”
“And yet I mean every word. You’d look good in a habit.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, grinning. “I think you just have a weird nun fetish.”
“Not at all. I’ll admit that I’m imagining one of those sexy nun habits you’d wear on Halloween and not the real thing.”
“Oh, right, now it makes more sense. And please stop picturing me in one of those.”
I pursed my lips and looked her up and down. “One second.”
“Stop,” she said, laughing, and nudged me.
“Whatever you say.” I glanced away from her, despite wanting to stare at her the whole night, and scanned the crowd again.
And there, back near the door and heading toward the steps, was Cullen himself.
I recognized the hair and the tattoos peeking up his neck. He was talking to some girl with enormous fake boobs, and she grabbed his hand as she tugged him away. The pair of them left with Cullen pinching at her ass the whole time.
Upstairs then. I hadn’t thought about upstairs. But how the hell was I going to get up there without being too obvious?
I looked slowly back to Sam, who was smiling up at me.
Ah, shit.
This was a bad idea. I liked this girl—no, I wanted this girl. She was a distraction, and when I was on a kill mission, I had to keep my head about me. I had to be focused in on what I was supposed to do, not chasing some pretty redhead around an orgy.
Except I had to get upstairs without being too obvious, and there was no easy way to do it.
Over on the pillows, the vigorous and somewhat confusing sex continued. The original couple had changed partners, with the two girls both servicing four men at the same time, stroking one cock in each hand and sucking them off, moving between them as fast as they could. Meanwhile, the masked guy was fucking some skinny girl with nearly black hair, and she was the one screaming her head off.
Sam must’ve followed my gaze, because her cheeks turned pink. “She’s a little over the top,” she said. “I mean, it can’t be that good.”
“It could be. You might not be fucking the right guys.”
“How do you know who I’m fucking?”
“You’re not fucking me.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t stop smiling. “Another terrible line. You’re bad at this.”
“I’m blaming the orgy. It’s throwing me off.”
She shifted closer and put a hand on my arm. “If there wasn’t a bunch of strangers having sex over there right now, what would you say to me?”
She had an excited look on her face, lips parted slightly, tongue pressed against her teeth, eyes wide. She wanted this—and hell, maybe all those naked people were turning her on more than she realized.
And she was turning me on more than I should’ve allowed.
I leaned down, brushing my lips against her cheek, and turned to face her, my hand straying down to her hip. “I’d say of all the women in this place, you’re the only one I want to undress,” I whispered in her ear. “And I’d tell you to imagine how you’d feel if you came upstairs with me right now.”
Her breath was fast and hot against my neck. “What would we do upstairs?”
“I’d start by peeling off your dress,” I said. “No masks, not for you. I want to look in your eyes while I tease your wet pussy with the tips of my fingers before I go down and taste you. Then once your legs are shaking and you’re begging for more, only then will I let you ride me, nice and slow at first, before I fuck you deep and rough and let you come on my thick cock.”
“Oh,” she said, and her fingers dug into my arm. “Is that what you’d do?”
“Come upstairs with me,” I said, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. “And I’ll show you.”
I saw the moment of hesitation. She wasn’t sure, was probably scared. I guessed she’d never done something like this before. The orgy was affecting her more than she realized, and even if it was an unattractive jumble of bodies and fucking and flesh, it was still sex, and she couldn’t help but feel aroused.
And having me so close, whispering all that in her ear, that only set her off even more.
I realized with a sharp breath that I was feeling it too. Sam was gorgeous, by far the most attractive girl in the place, and I noticed more than one man staring at her as we started our conversation. I would’ve bet anything that she’d be pretty damn popular in the middle of that pile of naked, writhing people.
“Okay,” she said finally, her face setting into a mask of determination. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I felt an odd thrill. I should’ve been steadying myself for the kill, but instead I was thinking about stripping her bare.
“Come on.” I grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd.
I caught more looks but ignored them. Jealous assholes, most likely. I took Sam to the steps and we climbed up together, leaving the writhing and moaning and screaming people behind.
Upstairs was as opulent as downstairs, if not more so. The floor was covered in thick rugs and wild houseplants sprouted up from every corner. There were several rooms, two with closed doors, but one was still open. I steered Sam toward it and stepped inside.
The room was small, but richly furnished, with a big four-poster bed hung with gauzy curtains, two end tables, and a massive antique armoire. Sam drifted toward the bed as I glanced over to the closed doors, wondering which one Cullen was hiding in.
This was my chance. I could make some excuse, m
aybe say I had to use the bathroom or something lame as hell, and ditch her. I could shut the door and lock it from the outside, or just tell her to wait for me and never come back.
Cullen was close. I had my gun tucked up against the small of my back and a silencer in my jacket pocket. I could slip into one of those rooms and put a bullet in him and be done with this whole fucking game.
Except Sam turned back to me, one arm crossed under her breasts grasping onto her opposite elbow, and she tilted her head, lips parted slightly.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, and the anxiety in her tone killed me—and decided it.
I stepped in after her and shut the door. “Nothing’s wrong. Just looking at you. Admiring you.”
Her cheeks turned red. “I don’t do stuff like this,” she said. I put my champagne glass down on an end table and walked to her. “Really, I never do this. I mean, I don’t even know you. Matteo, right? I think it’s the wine and maybe the sex downstairs, I mean, it’s weird and a little gross, but I guess it got to me, you know?” I took the wine glass from her hand.
“You’re rambling.”
“Sorry.” She bit her lip.
“Don’t be. It’s cute. I like that you’re nervous.”
I put the glass down next to mine.
“What am I nervous for, exactly?” she asked, staring at me.
I closed the distance between us and gently touched her cheek with my right hand before I leaned down and kissed her.
The first kiss, the most basic test of all. If it wasn’t right, it wasn’t right—and I’d get out of there and do my job. I almost wanted her to taste wrong, or her lips to feel off, or something to just not mesh right. I wanted it to be a turn-off. I wanted it to break the moment.