Marrying the Mob Prince

KNOX

I’ll never forgive myself.

I foolishly thought I could leave her alone. That she would realize her mistake and come to me, but I never should’ve given her freedom. I never should’ve walked away, because look at what happened.

What did he do to her?

And why wasn’t I here to protect her?

My stomach churned as I leaned against the bathroom door, listening to her cry. She’d killed a man. Wasted him. Ran him through with those same dainty, soft hands that I liked to imagine stroking my cock. I mean, fuck. My brain could barely wrap around that.

I strolled into Indie’s pitiful living room. I couldn’t wait to get out of here, but I had a corpse to deal with and an angry Italian to appease.

Tony stood beside the dead guy, his green button-up rolled to his biceps.

When I got bored, I catfished scumbag politicians, celebrities, high-society douchebags, and broke into their laptops to sell their data to the Mafia. Tony was my direct line to them.

His cousin Vinn Costa was the don of the Family. I didn’t care for gangsters, but Tony’s Ivy League upbringing made him less disagreeable than his relatives. I met Tony a couple of years ago when a client approached me with an intriguing request. The man who introduced us, Cainan, warned me to tread carefully around Tony, but I liked the shadow of fear he cast on others. Our friendship came in handy when I ran into problems with local municipalities.

I owned this town and made sure they all knew it.

Tony crouched beside the body, his gloved hands picking through a wallet. “His name is Andrey Kozlov. Russian, I’m guessing.”

I dug into my pants for my cell. A quick twenty-dollar background check yielded very interesting information. “No former priors, no liens on his property…his tax records indicate he’s very well off. A multimillionaire. His business email goes to an investment firm.”

“Why is a man like him skulking in this neighborhood?”

I had no idea. “Check his cell.”

Tony held the phone next to the dead man’s face, unlocking the screen. He thumbed through the messages.

D: Found it.

D: 435 Washington Street, Unit B.

D: Text after it’s done.

A chill spider-crawled my spine as I stared at Indie’s address, confirming my suspicions that this was planned.

My pulse pounded in my ears. “Were the Costas responsible for this?”

“Hell no. The Family doesn’t touch civilians.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, he’s Russian. That rules him out-only full-blooded Italians can join.” Tony stroked his throat, grimacing. “I’ll ask my cousin if he knows Kozlov.”

What would a Russian multimillionaire want with a reporter whose latest headline was “Ten Signs He’s Not Into You”?

He wouldn’t.

Which meant this was an attack on me.

My round-the-clock security protected me, but others were vulnerable, and I’d made no secret of my obsession with Indie. Jesus, this was my fault.

The gaping hole in my chest widened.

“Do you recognize him?” Tony pointed at the corpse, brows furrowed. “Who the hell is D? One of your associates?”

A list of potential suspects scrolled in my head, but I couldn’t imagine any of them doing something so cruel.

“Never seen him before in my fucking life.” I raked my hand through my hair. “And I don’t know. This is too extreme to come from a disgruntled businessman.”

“Is there any chance he knew her?”

I shook my head.

Crying echoed from the bedroom, and a shadow of alarm touched Tony’s face. “Shouldn’t you take her to the hospital?”

“She wasn’t injured.”

Though that wasn’t really the truth, was it?

“Thank God for that.” Tony rubbed his jaw, eyes blazing. He picked through the contents of Andrey’s wallet. “Look at this. An Amex black card. They only give these out to people with over a million dollars of annual income. This makes no sense.”

“Give me the phone.”

He did, and I typed a message.

Me: It’s done.

I waited until a little checkmark appeared, indicating the text had been read. My skin crawled. “I need to find out what’s going on.”

“I’m here for you.” Tony’s hand weighed my shoulder. “That goes for her, too.”

“Let’s just get rid of the body.”

He seized Andrey’s wrists. I pulled on a pair of gloves and gripped the man’s bicep. Lifting a slab of meat weighing three hundred pounds took a lot more effort than I imagined. Heaving, we rolled him onto his back.

The man lay beside my shoes, his thick eyebrows frozen with surprise. He was bald and otherwise unremarkable. His unassuming clothes would’ve fooled me if I passed him on the street. He’d taken great pains to make himself blend in, wearing dark jeans and a hoodie.

I gazed into his sightless eyes, hating him. This man, no, this predator, had broken into Indie’s home. He’d attacked her, and because I wasn’t there, inflicted a grievous injury on her soul.

We wrapped him in bedsheets and carried him to the bathtub. The next few hours were as gruesome as the deli I’d worked in a lifetime ago. All those big saws, slicing through carcasses like butter. The overwhelming stench. Blood-splattered aprons. We loaded him into Tony’s truck, piece by piece.

Then we returned to the apartment.

“I’ll get rid of him,” Tony said. “It’s best if you don’t know where I’m going.”

I waved at mess on the floor. “What about this? And the bathroom?”

“I’ll come back with a crew.” Tony flung a garbage bag over his shoulder and headed out. He turned to me before leaving. “I’ll talk to Vinny and see if he knows anything about this guy. Take care, Knox.”

“Thanks, friend. I appreciate it.”

He slammed the door.

As soon as he left, I shot into the bedroom.

Indie sat on the bed, a sheet over her body. I could tell she was naked underneath it. Her seductive pose felt like a trap, but I floated to her like a fly on honey. I sank onto the mattress, gazing at her.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

“Hey.”

Indie stared ahead, unblinking.

Torment ate my insides as I pulled up the sheets around her. I rubbed her neck but couldn’t tell if it helped. Not by her thousand-yard stare.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve spent the last two hours listening to your colorful commentary as you and a stranger cut up a man I’m responsible for killing, so no. I’m not. Not even close. I doubt I’ll ever be.”

I swallowed hard. “I told you not to listen.”

“I tried. I covered my ears but-I-I still heard sounds.” She hugged herself, shivering. “I can’t take it, Knox.”

I didn’t know what to say. “You’ll get through this. I promise.” I stroked her hair, grappling with unhinged thoughts. Then I stood, pulling her upright.

She obliged, although unsteady on her feet. The linens whispered down her thighs, revealing her pussy. My eyes raked her supple curves with a lack of self-control that made me want to punch myself. I grasped her shoulders, her soft skin inflaming the madness she stirred in me. Then I moved her to the closet. I rifled through her things and picked out a short cocktail dress.

“Wear this.”

Indie grabbed the plastic coat hanger. Her stony expression rippled with life.

“Where are we going?”

“Out to dinner. A crew is coming to clean up here.”

“Knox, I’m exhausted. Can’t we just go to your place?”

“Not yet. We have a few loose ends to tie up.”

“But I don’t understand-”

I gripped her jaw, my patience fraying. “Indie, remember your deal. Put the damn dress on.”

She shot me a glare so hot that my hand tingled with the urge to spank her. I came here hoping she’d come to her senses. She was supposed to realize that rejecting me was a mistake.

Now she’d never get the chance.

His death would always taint us because she hadn’t chosen me. I never wanted to be her only option. I wanted her desperate in her yearning. I expected her to give me her body willingly. Someone had taken that opportunity away from me. D, whoever the fuck he was, would pay for this.

I’d rip him apart.

He would be a fragment of a human being. For ruining Indie’s purity, I would torture him for weeks. Her innocence and compassion for wicked people were the reasons I needed her. This murder had put a black mark on her soul.

Rage invaded my lungs like toxic smoke.

I would break him. Shatter him into pieces that couldn’t be glued back together. I’d lay waste to his friends and family. I’d cut off his dick, feed it to him, and drink his tears.

He would become my toy.

And I couldn’t wait.