Double Dirty Mafia Masters: An MFM Menage Romance
Page 1
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
EPILOGUE
DOUBLE DEEP MAFIA MASTERS
By Olivia Harp
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events reside solely in the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are eighteen years of age or older.
© 2017, Olivia Harp. No portion of this work can be reproduced in any way without prior written consent from the author with the exception for a fair use excerpt for review and editorial purposes.
This title is for adults only. It contains explicit sex acts, adult themes, and material that some folks might find offensive. Please keep out of reach of children.
Table of Contents
Double Deep Mafia Masters
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Double Deep Mafia Masters
CHAPTER 1
LUCIAN
Lucian Kovolski took another sip of his coffee, its hot bitterness contrasting sharply with the bright, cool diner around him. He hadn’t been there in months, work always got in the way, but it was worth it.
The place looked exactly as it did twenty years ago: like taken out of a fifties movie. Black and white floor tiles in retro patterns, booths surrounding rectangular, white topped tables just by the windows and a long counter with visibly worn bar stools.
A flickering street-light tried hard to lighten the dark street outside, but it seemed to be losing the battle. Darkness always prevailed, if you gave it enough time.
Lucian smiled. The old neighborhood hadn’t changed a bit.
I guess that’s a good thing.
He looked at the owner, Finch, who kept cleaning the counter over and over just to keep himself busy. The wrinkled old man looked back at him from afar and nodded.
“You guys need anything? Another refill?”
Crow talked first, his voice cutting through the air like a chainsaw through bone.
“We’re good, old man.”
Lucian smiled. The motherfucker talked for him. But maybe he was right. He’d had four refills already, just basking in the nostalgia of the old neighborhood.
“Are you done?” Lucian asked.
Crow looked at him. Ever since he was a kid, he enjoyed reading the paper. He used to say important people did it so he had to do it too.
“Does it look like I’m done yet?”
Lucian shrugged and rested his arms on the back of the booth. Crow sipped what was left of his milkshake, he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave it there half-finished.
“I just thought you might want to save some dignity. A man with your reputation having a milkshake, people might think you’ve gone soft.”
Crow grunted.
“If anyone has a problem with it, they can tell it to my face.”
“Agreed.”
Crow. The big, bad Businessman of the Kovolski’s. calm and collected on the outside, he could break your neck with one hand without breaking a sweat.
The man himself, drinking a double chocolate milkshake, leaving the fucking cherry for last.
He grunted again, gave an almost imperceptible nod, folded the newspaper and stood up.
“All right.”
He gulped the last remains of his drink, took out the still pristine cherry from his mouth and said “done.”
Lucian placed a fifty on the table.
“Thanks, Finch.”
“Oh no, boys, I’m not letting you pay—”
Crow turned to him, his eyes stony as always, but not threatening.
“We’re not dining for free, man,” Lucian said.
“It’s my pleasure to have you—”
“Not dining for free,” Crow interrupted him.
And that was that. The old man understood. He wasn’t going to beg them, and the Kovolski’s weren’t either, so he left it at that.
“You’re always welcome here, boys, come back anytime.”
Crow nodded, the cherry still dangling from the stem caught between his fingers.
“It’s our pleasure. Be safe.”
“You too.”
The yellow-orange streetlight met them as they exited the diner. It still clung to life, flickering briefly before going out for half a minute, then coming back on as if nothing happened.
Lucian took a deep breath; it smelled like wet pavement, even though it wasn’t raining yet. Their limo waited just a few steps from the restaurant. Chancey got out of it to open the door for them, but Lucian raised his hand.
“Don’t worry, kid. We got it.”
Crow opened the door and lowered his head to enter but suddenly stopped.
“You hear that?”
Lucian narrowed his eyes. He heard it too. A faint sound, almost like—
There it was.
A woman’s voice. It sounded urgent, pleading.
They looked at each other, then the woman yelled. Lucian ran across the street, trying to find her, Crow followed.
“There!” Lucian said, pointing at an alley a few dozen yards away, someone was being mugged.
CHAPTER 2
LEXIE
Why. Why did I flipped them off. Now I’m going to—
“Stay still, bitch,” the tall man with a moustache said, “unless you wanna get hurt.”
There were three of them, all of them smiling like maniacs, their eyes hungry, looking at her up and down.
She tried crying for help but doing that now would make things worse.
“Take my purse,” she said, “please, don’t hurt me.”
“Fuck your purse girl,” the skinny man with yellow teeth said, his voice like a dog barking, “you think we’re stupid? You gonna pay.”
Her eyes began to well. This is it. This is how it ends.
She thought of the idiocy of it all. She was walking back home from her job at the shoe store. She had to stay late to finish taking inventory.
On her way back home, she passed these… junkies, or whatever they were and they began catcalling her. In her frustration she did what anyone would’ve done. She flipped them off.
No one would have done that. Not in this neighborhood. Not anywhere.
So this is how it ended.
She held back tears. There was no way out now. She threw her purse at them
, “just take it, please!”
The smaller guy picked it up and took her wallet out.
“Eight dollars?” he complained, “we doin’ this for eight-freakin-dollars?”
“Calm down,” moustache guy said, “we’re not done yet.”
He took another step toward her. They’ll kill me, they’ll kill me.
Fuck it. She wouldn’t die so easily.
She yelled and ran to the street, but Moustache was fast, he grabbed her shirt and pulled, throwing her off balance, hurling her to the wall.
She barely registered the movement, one second she took a step forward, the next she was in pain, on the floor of a dark alleyway, three scumbags surrounding her.
“Now, now, bitch,” Moustache said, “don’t I was gonna go easy on you.”
Something glinted in his hand. His grin said everything.
He’s carrying a knife.
She almost laughed. Thirty minutes ago she was thinking about all of the unpaid overtime hours she was working, fantasizing about demanding a raise, knowing full well that she wouldn’t do it, even though rent was due in five days and she was barely scraping by.
That was her world. Worrying. But now that didn’t seem so bad. She’d kill to be able to worry about anything for another day. Just give me another day, she pleaded to the sky.
Moustache grabbed her by the collar and pulled her up.
“Let’s see what we got here.”
He licked his lips, moving closer, trapping her against the wall. When he was an inch close, she did the unthinkable, she headbutted him hard enough for the man to release her.
“You fucking bitch!” Moustache yelled, she tried to run but Skinny slapped her before she could step away, instantly taking her arm, Small jumped closer and grabbed her. She smelled the sweat and filth they were covered with and almost gagged.
“I’m gonna cut you up, bitch,” Moustache said, “I’m gonna make you sorry…”
He eyed her, and in a sudden movement ripped open her shirt, her breasts suddenly exposed.
“But first we’re gonna have some fun,” he said.
She kicked and screamed, but no one was listening. Not out here, in this neighborhood. She was just another victim. She’ll be on the news tomorrow, another statistic.
Her kick connected. Hitting Moustache right in the groin, bending him over.
“You whore!” Skinny said and grabbed her by the hair.
Moustache looked up, fire in his eyes. This was it. She was dead. But the other option was worse.
Moustache stood up, his knife out in the open, a big switchblade.
He jumped at her and she just closed her eyes, her scream filling the night. Tears streaming down her face.
“You let her go and we let you live,” a deep voice said, resonating in the alleyway.
Skinny and Small released her. She had no strength, fear had taken everything from her. She dropped to the ground, trying to cover her breasts, cowering.
The voice spoke again, and suddenly she felt safe. Someone came, someone heard her. Maybe she was—
There were two of them, and they weren’t cops.
At least they didn’t look like cops. A streetlight flickered behind them but she couldn’t make them out.
“Walk away,” another voice said. It was the taller man. They were huge, and that man’s voice sounded like a threat.
The light flickered on and she saw them more clearly. They looked like businessmen. One of them had a light suit with a dark, expensive-looking teal shirt. No tie. His friend wore a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow.
“You motherfuckers wanna get killed?” Moustache said, brandishing his knife, “you look like it.”
Small and Skinny went to either side of them. This is it Lexie, get up and run. It’s your only chance.
But she couldn’t. She was paralyzed with fear.
Moustache bolted towards the man in a suit, his blade forward. Lexie held her breath, this was her fault. Men were going to get killed because of her stupidity.
But Suit moved to the side, easily, as if he was used to this, and his fist hit Moustache right in the middle of the face, the bone crunching sound startled her, shivers ran down her spine.
Moustache dropped down instantly, unconscious.
Small and Skinny stepped back, looking at each other with a confused expression, Skinny gritted his teeth and both of them jumped at Suit at the same time.
He stepped back and raised his guard, covering himself from the barrage of blows from both of his attackers.
Sleeves stepped forward to help, hitting Skinny on his lower back, his yell caught up in his throat, bending over to the side before the huge man picked him up and raised him over his head, as if he weighted nothing.
His friend, Small, stepped back, his eyes full of fear. Suit struck him right in the chin, making him lose his balance.
“No, no, please! It wasn’t me!” He pleaded as he scrambled to get himself together on the floor.
“That’s what you all say,” Suit said, walking over to him slowly.
Small jumped and ran away, but Sleeves threw Skinny right at him, dropping him to the ground.
Suit turned to look at her, and lightning bolts coursed through her body. His bright eyes glinted in the darkness, like a ray of hope.
“You’ll be fine,” he said.
Beside him, Moustache screamed, suddenly alive, his eagerness to kill not yet satiated.
“You fuckers…”
He still lay on the ground, trying to get up, and picked up the blade.
Sleeves stomped on his hand, crushing it under his weight, the switchblade hit the floor a few feet away.
He grabbed Moustache from the floor like a rag doll, said “don’t do that,” and hit him again so hard in the stomach his body went limp.
Suit looked up at his friend, and she followed his eyes.
Shit. Who are these people?
Sleeves looked like a rockstar, short black hair, tattoos on his forearms, and an “I-don’t-want-any-friends” grimace.
“Thanks,” he told him, but Sleeves wasn’t paying attention. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaned the blood from his fists, and extended his hand to her.
“We need to go.”
Thunder cracked above and the sky ripped open. Rain poured out like it was the Flood.
CHAPTER 3
CROW
The woman held Crow’s hand while Lucian helped her up. The warmth of her skin filled him, almost giving him goose bumps.
He found her eyes, light brown, filled with life, and his heart began to race. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
She pulled her shirt to cover her breasts. He averted his eyes but the glimpse of them made him tremble.
She was curvy and voluptuous, her full lips an invitation he could barely resist.
“Thank you…” she whimpered.
“Come,” Crow said, walking slowly by her side, Lucian took her other hand, and the three of them went out to the street, the rain soaking them completely.
Chancey was there already, opening the door to the limo.
“Are you all right boss?” the kid said, not really referring to any of them in particular.
Crow grunted and let the woman inside. Lucian was the last one in, he nodded, and suddenly they were all moving.
The woman held his hand tightly, she was in shock. Probably. If he let go she’d fall to a precipice of despair, she would break. He wouldn’t let that happen. She was different.
“Are you all right?” asked Lucian.
The woman turned to him and finally let go of his hand, covering her chest again.
“I… I think so.”
She didn’t sound all right. Her voice was brittle, as if she was doing her best to keep herself from crying.
She was shivering, and the worst part is Crow didn’t know whether it was because of the cold rain or what just happened to her.
Maybe both.
&nbs
p; He was used to violence. All his life he lived in it. But she was fragile, and the thought of her losing her spark because of it made him furious.
She doesn’t deserve that.
“You’re safe now,” he said. He wasn’t good with words. That was Lucian’s specialty. But right now he didn’t want anything more than to tell her she would be all right, nothing bad would happen to her… he would do anything to make her feel better.
She smiled and a fire lit up inside of him. He was the one trying to make things right for her but seeing her happy made the world better for him. He felt a kind of joy he never felt before.
Don’t be a fool. You’re still high on adrenaline.
“Thank you,” she said, and leaned on his shoulder to cry. Her warm tears broke his heart.
That’s when he knew he fucked up.
CHAPTER 4
LUCIAN
Lucian took his cell phone out and tapped on the screen, making the necessary arrangements.
“It’s settled,” he said. Crow nodded.
The doc was going to meet them at their apartment, everything was ready.
Rain crashed against the windows of the limo, the muffled sound of the storm grating on his soul.
Don’t kid yourself.
He knew the anger he felt was not coming from the fight, or the fact that he let those bastards live.
He was jealous.
Just for a second he wished he was the one who reassured her, so she’d be crying on his shoulder. But Crow did it. Motherfucker’s smart.
He turned to his partner and for a brief moment he understood that his own feelings mattered nothing. This woman was safe.
Crow didn’t say anything. He smiled. He didn’t even know her name.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up from Crow’s shoulder, turning to him. He repeated his friend’s words.
“You’re safe,” and placed his hand on hers.
She took a deep breath.
“What were you doing out there?”
“I…” her voice trailed off, Lucian almost felt bad for asking such a stupid question, but she was strong. At least strong enough to finish her sentence.
“I was going back home.”
She told them what happened.
It could have happened to anyone. And he was not one to preach or scold a woman. Anything he could say, she probably already knew .