Perfect Monster: A Dark Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “I just saved your life. Drink the wine.”

  “You drink the wine.”

  He smirked and took a long sip. “It’s not poisoned.”

  “I’m not worried about poison.” I picked up my glass and took a long drink. It was shockingly good. “I just feel like I should try and keep my head straight while you’re around.”

  That seemed to amuse him. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

  A little spike of annoyance flared in my stomach. “Are you always like this?” I waved a hand at him. “So, I don’t know, intense?”

  “Maybe. I don’t really know.”

  “Liar. I bet you practice that brooding stare in the mirror.”

  The barest hint of a smile played at his lips. “You’d be surprised.”

  “I don’t think I would. So now what? I hide out here? What makes you think those guys won’t come for me?”

  He nodded once, as if we were getting down to business. “I’m hoping they won’t know that you witnessed what happened. However, if they do realize you saw Manzi kill Dia, they won’t try to hurt you while you’re on my property.”

  “Why not?”

  “I told you. I’m much worse than a few mafia thugs.”

  “I find that hard to believe, but okay, I guess I’ll play along.” I took another long sip of wine, head spinning, trying to work this out. “Does that mean I’m stuck here?”

  “Would that be so bad? I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

  The unspoken hung between us: however you want.

  I imagined his lips against my neck, his hands pinning my wrists back against a wall. I could be swallowed by him, drowned and chewed and devoured.

  “You’re a stranger. I’m not really in the habit of staying in houses with big, scary men, even if they are nice houses.”

  “I’m big and scary? That’s good to know.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like you didn’t realize already.”

  Another smile. I sort of liked the thrill it gave me, making him grin. “Maybe I’ll keep you around. You can be a little pet for me.”

  “I’m not some dog, asshole.”

  “You’d like it, I promise. I’d spoil you. Make you do tricks.”

  “Don’t be a dick. If anyone’s going to wear a little collar and walk around on all fours, that’s going to be you.”

  “Interesting. I didn’t know you were into that, but I could be amenable.”

  I blushed slightly. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to force you to stay here. You can go back home in the morning, I promise.”

  I glanced around the room again, half expecting someone to leap out from behind a curtain and scream my name like I was on some hidden camera show, but those weren’t a thing anymore, and this wasn’t fake.

  Her blood. Little pieces of her skull embedded in the wood.

  They weren’t fake.

  I watched that girl die.

  My hand trembled and I finished my wine.

  Roman refiled it without a word.

  “I can’t get back into a car. I can walk home, but it’ll take me a while.”

  He sighed. “I’ll have Erick fetch your bike. Any other requests?”

  I met his eyes and held that piercing, freezing stare. “Am I going to be in danger once I leave this place?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitating.

  I felt a pit open up beneath my feet, and I began to tumble downward. I was spiraling again, that same feeling I’d had for weeks after the incident. It had taken me a long time to feel like myself again back then, and now I was terrified I’d drift back into that depression.

  “I think I should get some sleep.” I drank down half the refilled glass. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll show you to a room.” He frowned slightly, like he was worried about me, but I refused to look him in the eyes.

  I was afraid that if I did, I’d give him whatever he wanted.

  He took me to the front staircase and up to the second floor. The guest room was large and airy with an attached balcony and an incredible view of the ocean. The rhythmic tides and the soft crash of waves were just barely audible.

  “Normally, I’d recommend leaving the windows open, but it’s too cold for that.” He lingered in the center of the room and looked around with a practiced eye. “There are towels in the bathroom and a robe hanging in the closet. I can bring fresh clothes, though I’m not sure if they’ll fit.”

  “That would be great.”

  He nodded and looked at me again. I clutched the glass. I’d almost forgotten I had it.

  Whenever he turned that gaze on me, it was like that dizzy floor-opening sensation again—but instead of falling, it was like I floated up out of myself.

  He stepped closer. I backed away and ran up against the bed. He put one hand on my hip and leaned in—his fingers inches from my scar—and the smell of him, masculine and warm, spicy and musky and delicious, filled me with a strange, heady need.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Why? I’m a stranger.”

  “It’s the sort of man that I am. Sometimes, it’s very inconvenient.”

  “I’m sorry I’m such a burden.” My lips parted slightly. I wondered what he would taste like.

  If he kissed me, I wondered if I’d ever come back up for air.

  “I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything at all. Please don’t try and leave tonight. It isn’t safe.” He pulled his hand away from my hip, and I released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as he walked to the door, then looked back. “Goodnight, Cassie.”

  He left and shut the door behind him.

  I collapsed back into a large easy chair beside a fireplace. I curled up and drank down the wine in several big gulps before leaning my head against the upholstered back. I stared at the ceiling—pure white, perfectly smooth—and tried to make sense of the night.

  I’d watched a girl get murdered. She was apparently the daughter of an important man in something called the Ramos Cartel. And the guy who had killed her was the son of a mafia don.

  And if they realized I’d witnessed it, they’d kill me.

  Realization dawned on me as I finished my wine and set the glass on the floor.

  Manzi had seen me.

  We’d locked eyes. He’d even thought about turning that gun and finishing me off.

  As soon as things calmed down, he’d tell his father that I’d seen what had happened—and then I’d be fair game.

  I stood and rushed into the bathroom and puked into the toilet.

  It was ugly and disgusting and tears ran down my cheeks. When I was done, I washed out my mouth, found the robe in the closet, got undressed, and pulled it over my body. I stood in front of a floor-length mirror with the robe slightly open and ran my fingers across the jagged scar that bisected my belly from hip to hip.

  It was so ugly and still pink after all these years. I’d tried a bunch of different scar medicines to try and make it fade, but nothing ever worked.

  It was as vivid and disgusting as the day I’d gotten it.

  I pulled the robe closed tight, walked to the door, and locked it.

  My mouth tasted like vomit and my head was heavy from the wine. I grabbed my phone, turned out the light, and crawled into the enormous bed.

  I had three missed calls and five texts from Winter.

  Winter: Where are you??? Was that a gunshot?

  Winter: Cassie I’m freaking out that girl’s dead and you’re not responding.

  Winter: Um HELLO?

  Winter: Cass PLEASE text me back. The cops are here. They’re gonna start searching for you soon. PLEASE TEXT ME.

  Winter: I’m flipping out. If that bastard hurt you I’m going to hunt him down and END HIM.

  I smiled at the thought of Winter finding Manzi and kicking him in the crotch until he died. She’d probably do it, too.

&nb
sp; I typed up a quick text.

  Cassie: I’m fine, that Roman guy’s letting me stay at his place, really long story, I’ll tell you tomorrow. I’m totally fine, don’t worry.

  She wrote back instantly.

  Winter: You’re with who?? That intense hot guy from the party? What the hell is going on?????

  Cassie: I’m fine, I swear. Going to sleep. Talk tomorrow.

  I turned off my phone and curled up into a tight ball. I stared at the door, imagined it breaking open, imagined Roman walking into the room, pushing me down against the bed, peeling open the robe, looking at my body—and recoiling in disgust at the sight of the ugly scar.

  A man like that wouldn’t be interested in damaged goods like me.

  I rolled onto my other side and squeezed my eyes shut tight.

  4

  Roman

  “Do you have any idea how complicated your son made things?”

  I wanted to scream and curse. I wanted to tell Giatno that he was one of the stupidest dons I’d ever met in my life, and I’d met more than a few bloodthirsty morons. But Giatno was at the bottom of my list, not because he was greedy, or tyrannical, or impulsive—in fact, the man was clever, good with his family’s finances, quick to exploit the weaknesses of his enemy, and all-around ruthless—but because he allowed his spoiled little brat son to do whatever that disease-ridden cock wanted.

  And now there was a dead cartel girl.

  If she’d been the daughter of the cartel’s big boss, this whole plan would go up in smoke and we’d be at war.

  As it stood, things were still tenuous and could slip into violence at any moment.

  Unless I got out in front of it.

  Control the narrative. Control the situation.

  “You don’t know Manzi did that to the girl.”

  “If you talk to me like I’m an idiot one more time, I will hang up this phone and make sure your entire family burns.”

  He was silent. I paced across my office and paused at the window, staring out at the ocean.

  Several doors down, Cassie was tucked into bed.

  Gorgeous, sexy, interesting little Cassie.

  Distracting Cassie. I scowled out into the night.

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Roman. It’s only that my son knows what the repercussions of killing a girl like Dia would be.”

  “You overestimate your son’s critical thinking abilities. I’ve worked much too hard arranging this alliance with the Drozdov Bratva to allow everything to go up in flames because your brainless, simpering, little man-child son decided to blow the brains out of a Ramos Cartel daughter.”

  A long silence. I gripped my wineglass tight and had to calm myself before I shattered the thing in my palm.

  “You’re right. I’ll find Manzi, and we will make things right. The alliance with the Drozdov Bratva will not be affected.”

  “Make sure that it isn’t. The MacKennas have been pushing into the south for months now, and you will lose territory if you cannot muster the strength to stop them. This alliance is your last chance.”

  And my best shot at the kind of revenge I’d dreamed of for a long time.

  But I didn’t say that out loud.

  “It will be done, Roman.”

  “See that it is.”

  I hung up the phone and resisted the urge to hurl it at the wall.

  Deep breath in, deep breath out. I imagined Cassie standing next to me, breathing along in rhythm.

  Her hands on my chest. Her lips near my throat.

  I never lost control like this. I didn’t know what it was—maybe the girl, maybe the situation. There was pressure, plenty of pressure, but I was used to high stakes.

  It had to be the girl then.

  Which was confusing. I’d tasted plenty of women in my time, enough that a pretty girl wasn’t enough to draw my interest anymore.

  But there was something about her. Maybe those lips, or that perfect, doll-like face, or the body she kept hidden beneath her baggy clothing, or the way she’d stood up to Manzi with that surprised and pissed-off stare, or maybe it was that sudden weakness she’d revealed in the car—

  Or any number of things that made me want to get to know her.

  A soft knock at the door. “Come in.”

  Erick stepped into the room. He was the only other person awake inside. “House is secure.”

  “How many men on the grounds?”

  “Ten. I can have more on the way if you’d prefer.”

  “Ten will be enough. Giatno won’t move on me tonight, and the Ramos Cartel won’t find out about Dia until morning. The police might be a problem, but I’ll deal with them.” I rubbed my temples, plans spinning like interlocking gears, wheels turning over and over and over.

  And behind it all was Cassie. Those lips, those eyes.

  The way she’d looked at me as she came out of her panic attack, sucking air deep into those lungs, her breasts pressing up against that oversized jacket of hers, those pink lips parted slightly to show the gap in her teeth.

  Fuck, what was wrong with me?

  “What an interesting night.” Erick was the master of understatement. He walked to my side table and poured himself a drink.

  “This is going to be a problem. Giatno will try and cover up for his son. That boy is his biggest weakness, God knows why since he’s not worth the effort.”

  “You think he’ll try and hurt the girl?”

  “I’m positive he will. Leave men in the area. Make sure she’s watched and protected.”

  Erick sipped his drink. I’d known him a very long time, ever since we were children. His father had worked for my father, doing all sorts of very interesting things. They’d met in the 1970s when Erick’s father was still working as a West German intelligence operative and my family was still in Russia. Erick had learned plenty of trade secrets and more than a few deadly skills from his old man, and he was about as dangerous as anyone I’d met. But more than that, I valued Erick as my closest friend and confidant. He had a sharp mind and understood my life better than anyone else.

  “What is it about the girl you find so interesting?”

  I frowned at him over my glass. “You know how I feel about collateral damage.”

  He waved that away. “You’re not so obsessed that you’ll pay men to hang around a beach town in the winter. Why’s this girl different?”

  “She’s the only proof I have of what Manzi did. She’s worth something.” It was a good excuse. Not the truth, but close enough.

  “Perhaps that’s true, but a video of her story would be more than enough. She’s disposable, if you want her to be.”

  I sighed and sat down behind my desk. Erick lingered near the window, looking out at the night, and glanced in my direction.

  “She’s only a girl. You’re reading too much into this.”

  A little smile quirked at his lips. “I don’t think I am, but I won’t push. When was the last time you had a good fuck?”

  I grimaced. “I’m sure you could ask Roza.” My personal assistant. She scheduled everything.

  And I mean everything.

  “Ah, you know how things are with her. I’d rather not.”

  “I appreciate you worrying about my physical needs, but that’s not within the purview of your job.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Right, of course, because you care so much about the purview of my job.”

  “Just make sure the girl’s protected.”

  “You know I will.” He finished his drink and placed it back on the side table. “Is there anything else? I need to set tonight’s shift.”

  “Cassie left her bike at the banquet hall. Send someone to get it.”

  “Cassie left her bike,” Erick repeated, and he gave me another smile.

  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “You like this one for some reason. What do you see in her?”

  I glanced away toward the wall. If I had an answer to that question, I might actually tell him—things would
be easier that way.

  Except I didn’t have a clue.

  She was like a ghost in my mind, haunting my thoughts.

  “I just need a good night’s sleep.”

  “Maybe you’re going soft.”

  I gave him a look. “If that’s the case, then I suspect we’ll all be dead soon.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll get the bike. Sweet dreams, boss.” Erick walked to the door but hesitated before he left. “It’s been three months, by the way.”

  “Three months?”

  “Since you took a woman to bed. I know, it’s creepy, but I’m your bodyguard. I notice these kinds of things.”

  “Thanks for letting me know,” I said, frowning at him. He was right, it was creepy. “Please stop thinking about my sexual habits.”

  “Believe me, I don’t exactly enjoy it, but you can’t stay all pent up. You need a release.”

  “Go away, Erick.”

  He grinned and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

  I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling.

  Three months? It couldn’t have been that long. I closed my eyes and tried to remember—but he was right.

  How hadn’t I noticed?

  I’d been busy, true. Working every day, planning and scheming and setting up an important alliance between two of the largest crime families in the country. My life was on a tightrope at the moment, and anything could push me off into the darkness.

  But three months? Normally, I was insatiable.

  My appetites were vast—commensurate with my stressful life.

  That could be it then. I desperately needed a release and Cassie was convenient.

  Except I knew that wasn’t it, wasn’t even close to right.

  I stood and drifted to the far wall. I pulled a hidden latch in a carved lion’s head at the end of the mantel, and a hidden door popped open. I stepped through into my bedroom and stood at the foot of my bed, staring down at the Egyptian cotton sheets, and pictured Cassie squirming on top of them, stripped bare and beautiful, her pussy dripping wet as she moaned for me, on the verge of losing her mind—so much like a panic attack, but built from pleasure instead of fear.

  I pictured taking the flat of my hand and slapping her taut little ass, over and over, until it turned pink and she begged for me to enter her.