Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)

by Veronica Lancet

  No Part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher and author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews.

  No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters and names are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

  Morally Ambiguous

  (Morally Questionable Book 4)

  Copyright© Veronica Lancet 2021

  Edited by: Alex M.

  Beta read by: Oana D.

  Dedication

  In loving memory of my father

  28.11.1960 - 27.04.2021

  Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.

  -Ovid, Metamorphosis

  Contents

  Dedication

  Preface

  Prologue

  PART I

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  PART II

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  PART III

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Postface

  Playlist

  Preface

  Dear reader,

  Morally Ambiguous is the fourth book in the Morally Questionable Series, and it should NOT be read as a standalone. Please bear in mind that events in Morally Ambiguous overlap with events in the other books and Vlad is a major character in previous books.

  This should have been split into two books, but I know everyone's been anticipating Vlad's story, so I wanted to release the entire thing at once.

  I'd also like to start with a disclaimer that I've taken some creative license with some of the science discussed in the book, and if you're curious to learn more, please read the postface, where I talk in more detail about the assumptions made in the book.

  That being said, this is my darkest book yet, and I urge you to consider the trigger warnings before reading.

  It was also the hardest book to write because when you're going through a dark period in your life, the last thing you want is to write about more tragedy.

  But what kept me going was the fact that this story, unlike real life, does have a happily ever after. Despite everything that happens to the main characters, they do prevail and they do find happiness.

  I really hope you enjoy their story.

  P.S. Please note that Vlad is not very politically correct. If you're easily offended, this might not be the book for you.

  TRIGGER WARNINGS: animal abuse, blood (gore), blood play, cannibalism, consensual non-consent, death, derogatory terms, descriptive child abuse, descriptive rape, drugs, guns, extreme graphic violence, extreme graphic sexual situations, extreme depictions of torture, grooming, kidnapping, knife play, miscarriage, murder, non-con/dubcon, primal play, self-harm, substance abuse, suicide, uncomfortable religious situations.

  Prologue

  "You look so pretty, Sisi," Lina's voice makes me blink twice, and I try to pay attention to what she's saying.

  Entwining the lace veil with a small diamond tiara, she places it over my coiffed hair.

  "I can't believe you're getting married," I watch her through the mirror as she swipes a tear off her cheek. "You make such a pretty bride. The most beautiful," she leans in to kiss my forehead.

  "Me neither," I murmur, forcing a smile.

  Everyone around me is so happy, and given my atrocious lie, I can see why they'd be overjoyed for me. So I try to play into the illusion I've created, stretching my lips into a perpetual smile to ensure there's no doubt about my state of mind.

  I am the bride, after all.

  I stare at my reflection, unable to believe it's gotten to this point. How my life had degenerated in the span of one month. I'd never seen myself as particularly lucky, not given everything I've been through. But for one moment I'd thought that all the hardships would give way to happiness.

  I'd left the convent that was the source of all my nightmares, and I'd finally found someone who understood me. Who saw me—with the good and the bad. I'd finally found myself after aimlessly wandering all my life.

  But it hadn't lasted.

  Now? Once again, I'm looking at a life of pretending.

  Pretending I'm good.

  Pretending I'm in love with my husband.

  Pretending I'm not... more.

  Recognizing the direction of my thoughts, I shake myself from my musings, turning back to Lina and smiling widely at her.

  "It's going to be amazing," the lie just flows out of my mouth. "I never thanked you, Lina," I turn to her, the only truthful thing I'm willing to say today. "For everything that you've done for me at Sacre Coeur. I don't think I would have been here without you," I squeeze her hand.

  Her eyes tear up again, and she can't help herself from sniffling, throwing her entire body towards me and wrapping her arms around me in a big hug.

  "Oh, Sisi. You know how much I love you. You'll always be my sister. Never forget that," she whispers.

  "Thank you. You and Claudia were the only two people keeping me sane there," I admit, returning her hug.

  She may not know the extent of what happened to me at Sacre Coeur, but she's been my only source of comfort during those cold years. For that, there are no words that could do justice to how much I am thankful to her.

  "You too Sisi. You were always the brave one, and you gave us a little courage each time," she smiles.

  I wish I had that courage now, because even though my feet carry me towards Raf, my heart is already dead and buried.

  The entire wedding entourage heads to the church, and Marcello and I are the last to arrive, prepared to walk arm in arm towards the altar.

  "I'm proud of you, Sisi," Marcello tells me, kissing my cheeks right before making our entrance. It's the first time he's touched me for more than a second, and I soak in the contact. "But don't forget that you will always have a home with us," he continues and I nod, tears burning behind my eyes.

  Following the musical cue, we walk slowly inside.

  Raf is waiting for me at the altar, looking dashing in his black tux, his blond hair combed back and emphasizing his baby blue eyes.

>   Ah, how I wish I could have loved him first. It would have saved me a world of heartache.

  But even as those thoughts intrude in my mind, I know them to be wrong. Because although I am aware of my own heartbreak, I also know that there's only one man I could ever love. One man who seems to have been made just for me.

  But it wasn't meant to be.

  Maybe we were the right people at the wrong time. Or maybe he was just right for me, and I was wrong for him.

  My feet feel heavy as I put one foot in front of the other, the distance shrinking by the second.

  And suddenly I'm by Raf's side, the priest starting the ceremony, everyone looking extremely happy as they cheer us on from the sidelines.

  A panic unlike any other takes hold of me, and I can barely stop myself from trembling.

  "Will you..." the priest's words are a blur, my ears ringing with what I can only describe as a deafening sound.

  I close my eyes, blinking rapidly. But then the entire room darkens, smoke infiltrating in the church.

  For some reason, I don't know if this is real or if it's just something my sick mind is producing, rejecting the reality I find myself in and somehow creating a new one.

  People are yelling, shots are fired. The noises become increasingly loud.

  An arm sneaks around my waist, a hand on my mouth as I feel a hot breath on my neck.

  "You're not getting rid of me, hell girl," he drawls, a dangerous sound that makes my already dead heart weep.

  And then the world goes black.

  PART I

  Little monster, little monster, come to play.

  Chapter One

  THE PAST

  AGE EIGHT,

  "You're sure there's nothing wrong with him?" My father paces around the small office, glaring at the doctor.

  "We've run tests. Considering his condition..." The doctor looks me up and down, pursing his lips as his eyes focus on my naked chest. "He's in spectacular health. It's quite extraordinary, actually." His hand goes up to stroke his chin.

  I tilt my head, returning his scrutiny with my own, my eyes meeting his gaze and holding the contact. Unnerved, he quickly looks away.

  "Look at him and tell me he's normal," father continues, pointing his finger at me.

  I don't react, since I don't care about his opinion. And as I look around the room, my eyes zone in on a sparkly glint of metal. Mentally, I do an estimation of the time and amount of movements it would take me to reach it.

  "There's something wrong with his eyes, I tell you," my father says, and my attention switches to him momentarily. He comes closer, but still keeping a distance. I can see it in his expression and the way his lip curls slightly at the corner as he looks at me. I disgust him.

  I have since I came back.

  I don't react when he suddenly brings his fingers in front of my face, snapping them twice. Unblinking, I turn my eyes towards him, regarding him curiously.

  "See? He's fucking soulless. Whatever they did to him..." he trails off, shaking his head. The doctor is quick to assure my father that I am perfectly healthy and that it may be residual trauma.

  "Trauma, my ass. He doesn't talk! All he does is stare at me like a fucking mute!" My father exclaims, throwing his hands in the air and pacing around the room again.

  The doctor comes closer, his eyes narrowing at me as he prompts me to say something.

  I watch in annoyance as he slows his speech and uses oversimplified words as if I were retarded.

  A small frown appears on his face as he brings his hand up to check my neck. His fingers don't reach their destination as I catch them mid-air, folding them backwards until he's yelping in pain.

  One swift movement and the sharp, steely object is in my hand. The doctor doesn't even get to react as the blade makes contact with his skin. A clean line from ear to ear appears just beneath his jaw and blood comes out in spurts like a jet spray, painting me red from head to toe. The doctor's body falls to the ground with a thud, and my father snaps his head around, his eyes widening in horror.

  One hand goes to his forehead as he's massaging his temples, all the while cursing out all kinds of obscenities,

  Me?

  I only have eyes for the redness of the blood, the mesmerizing color that seems to remind me of something.

  The liquid is dripping down my face, the feel of it on my skin intoxicating and liberating.

  I close my eyes, honing in on that feeling. My tongue sneaks out to lick my lips, tasting the forbidden substance and reveling in the metallic taste.

  So familiar...

  "You're a fucking monster," my father spits at me. I open my eyes to regard him with a bored expression and it seems to fuel his anger further as he starts throwing stuff at me.

  One mug hits the side of my head.

  What should have been a blinding pain is muted by my already dead pain receptors. My skin breaks and opens to let out even more red liquid. It flows down my face, coating my lashes and blinding my right eye.

  Father is breathing harshly, his gaze fixed on the gash next to my hair line. Slowly, his eyes find mine, and we stare at each other in a contained battle of wills.

  "Bozhe!" He whispers, three fingers going to his forehead before descending to his torso to make the sign of the cross. Finally, one hand settles on the handle of his gun, and he seems to debate whether to kill me or not.

  I make his decision easier as I hop off the bed, advancing towards him while still holding his gaze. Wrapping my fingers over his, I take out the gun and point it towards my head, the cold butt of the pistol making contact with my flesh.

  "Davai!" I bark, my voice groggy and ragged from unuse. My eyebrows are drawn together in consternation as I urge him to do it. Kill me.

  "Ubei menya," I utter again, and his eyes widen in shock before his hand tightens on the handle, wrenching the gun away from me.

  "Clean yourself," he mutters before leaving the room.

  Taking a deep breath, I allow myself to feel disappointment for a moment before I turn back to the doctor's corpse.

  Father may not know it, but he just left me with a gift. And I plan to take advantage of it to the fullest.

  It's hours later when father's guards show up, and they find me elbows deep in the doctor's chest cavity as I reorganize his organs.

  "We can't let him stay here, Dima," my mother whispers to my father, thinking I can't hear them. I turn my head to the side, my gaze fixed on the bird hopping around the windowsill.

  I know I'm not wanted in the house, and everyone has made it clear that they don't wish to share a space with me. Not that I blame them, since I've noticed the fear in their eyes as they look at me. They are all afraid I'm going to snap somehow, but even that fear is not enough to make them kill me.

  I am a child after all, and even seasoned killers frown upon killing the young. If only they knew what's in my mind... they would certainly not hesitate.

  "Are you my brother?" I look down into the curious eyes of a little girl. Her hair is parted in the middle, two pink ribbons holding the strands together. It looks oddly reminiscent of something.

  "Hey," she pokes my side, frowning when I don't answer. "You're my brother. I know you are." She says with more confidence, folding her hands across her chest.

  I shrug at her, and my gaze returns to the bird. Foreign information starts flooding my brain. I seem to have read somewhere that birds have hollow bones, their structures different to allow for flight. I wonder how they would look on the inside...

  My hand shoots out, my fingers wrapping around the slim body of the bird. I'm quick enough that she doesn't have time to spread her wings.

  Bringing her towards me, I study the way her eyes close, the membrane serving as lid inciting my interest. Sharp... I need something sharp.

  I'm about to reach for a knife when the little girl's hand covers my own. She looks terrified as she looks between me and the bird.

  "What... don't..." she stammers, her lower lip quiverin
g.

  I tilt my head to look at her, my eyes narrowing slightly.

  She tries to pry my fingers off the bird, her efforts futile. When it finally dawns on her that she won't be able to do it, tears gather at the corner of her eyes.

  I still, the sight shocking and foreign. It awakens something uncomfortable in my chest. For the first time, as I weigh the options, I find myself leaning towards making her stop crying, even if it means passing up on satisfying my curiosity.

  "Katya!" my mother exclaims in outrage, tugging her away from me. My eyes follow the trail of her tears, already entranced by them. My fingers become unwittingly loose until the bird flies away, unharmed.

  "Never do this again, you hear me? Never approach your brother alone. He's dangerous!"

  My mother continues to tell Katya off, telling her just how awful I am, but as I look into her eyes, I see some type of understanding.

  My parents decide to place me in the attic, as far away from their other children as possible. It's funny because for as much as my past before a couple of months ago is a void, I don't think I've ever felt particularly close to my family — even before.

  There's only ever been one person who's been by my side through thick and thin—my twin, Vanya. And she's the only one who is not afraid to interact with me, even risking our parents' anger if they found out.

  To everyone else, I'm just a necessary evil..

  What they don't seem to understand is that my behavior isn't intentional. I don't just set out to do harm. It just... happens.

  Like a haze covering my mind, I forget about my surroundings and I focus on one object only—my prey. I hone in on my target and everything else falls away. It suddenly becomes only about the unanswered questions. How many pumps of blood does the heart have left after death? How do organs look from the inside of the body? So many questions, and so many situations to explore.

  "Like that, cut through the stomach too."

  Vanya advises and I take heed, taking the blade and making a straight cut from sternum to pubis. The fat under the skin is making it hard for me to get to the inside, but as Vanya urges me on, I can only dig the edge of the knife deeper, a sharp sound signaling I've hit bone — the ribs.