Romeo The Mafia Casanova

Romeo’s [POV]

Then: Four days later”Who are you sleeping with?” I asked, pausing for a moment.

What was her name?

Tasha?

Natasha?

Who the fuck cared.

“I wouldn’t want to piss him off,” I added. Lying was part of the process.

I didn’t give a shit who she was deep-throating as long as I got my answers in the end.

“Tristian,” she replied with no hesitation. “But he’s been really busy lately, especially since the Russians decided to turn and-”

“Wow,” I interrupted; “You’re just full of surprises, is that it? I fuck you hard enough, and you sing like a goddamn canary?”

She threw her head back and laughed; her fake brown hair slid off her shoulder before her ember eyes locked onto mine. “You have a certain reputation for bringing the little death, Romeo. How could I say no? Especially if it means that I get another night in your arms-I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don’t stop what you’re doing with your dick inside of me.”

“Hmm, you drive a very, very-” I thrust deep “-hard bargain.”

I didn’t let up. The slapping sound of my balls against her ass echoed around the room, along with the wet sucking noise of her pussy soaking down my shaft.

I waited until she was on the brink of the edge.

Hanging.

Ready.

Eager.

“Who’s he working for?”

“Tristian?” Her back arched off the bed.

“Yes.”

“The highest bidder. You know who that is.”

I thrust with more determination, hitting her G-spot.

“Oh, Romeo…”

Her mouth parted.

Her legs shook.

Her core locked up.

“I’m coming…” she breathlessly moaned.

“No shit.”

Her cunt clamped down on my cock.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

They all loved me; it was part of my charm.

I gave her a devious smile. “Thanks for the fuck.”

Our eyes connected, becoming one. Before she loudly gasped.

Toes curling.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Chest seizing.

Heart-stopping.

I watched as blood oozed out of her mouth and down her chin. Getting lost in the symmetry of her death.

I did what I had come to do.

Fuck her senseless.

And then…

I slit her throat.

It was done.

Finished.

I wiped my knife across the white sheets, now stained red. This would be the end.

My finale.

My benediction.

I once swore to myself I’d never use my body to gain secrets, that I’d find a different way, but somewhere along the way, that changed, and I became this man I didn’t even recognize anymore.

Her eyes were wide open in shock, her mouth hung low as a trickle of blood dripped down her chin.

Natasha Drozdov.

Wife of Ivan Drozdov, the new leader of the Drozdov Family. Only none of us would accept him, and they knew it. We didn’t try to hide the fact that they were a sorry excuse for the Russian mafia. Five years ago, they’d broken away from the Petrov crime family in hopes of starting their powerful hand.

They’d tried.

They’d failed.

They continued to try.

I just never imagined they would drag my brother into their demise.

Without the support of the Five Families, they had a shit time trying to gain momentum. It didn’t help that every single family had an alliance with the Petrovs, which meant that their enemies were now ours too.

And Natasha?

I had recognized her that night at the bar when I kicked Tristian’s ass. I thought I’d gotten through to him.

I was wrong.

So fucking wrong.

She was a fucking pawn my brother had used, not realizing the longer you played with fire, the more it burned your skin until there was nothing left of you but ash.

Now she was dead.

I told myself it was necessary because it was. Though I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

My brother’s betrayal.

His treatment of Eden.

I didn’t know who he was and what he stood for anymore.

After tonight, I was terrified I wouldn’t know who I was and what I stood for either.

It was necessary.

I had to do it.

There was no way out of it.

This was my life.

From beginning to end.

Inhaling a solid breath, I pulled out my cell phone to check the time. In three minutes, I would alter several lives, including my own, but the future was already decided.

Game.

Set.

Match.

I swiped past the time and clicked on my pictures, finding the file titled family.

Hundreds of photos of Naz filled the screen as I scrolled through them.

Eden assumed I was gone for half his little life. She didn’t know that there wasn’t a breath he took without me watching over him, like an avenging angel.

Fallen.

But still inherently good.

I would kill to keep them both safe.

Which brought me back to my current place and time. This situation I was in. Setting my phone on one of the glass tables, I pulled out a chair.

My knife was still in my left hand.

No longer carrying blood.

Maybe that was my kindness, that when I took his life, I’d do it with fresh steel so he could see how much of his blood I’d spill, so I could count the ounces with a smile on my face, knowing that I was ending this once and for all.

It was either them or him.

And for the first time in my life-I chose Eden over my brother.

I chose her life over mine.

I chose her sanity.

Her safety.

Her future.

The sound of a key card sliding into the door hit me like a bullet between the eyes. I leaned back in my chair, gripping my knife so hard.

The door opened slowly.

It closed just as slowly.

And there I sat.

Waiting.

To kill my brother for the sins he had committed.

Tristian didn’t see me right away when he walked into the room. Just another reason he wouldn’t make it as a made man. He should have known something was wrong the minute he was inside this room.

Instead, he was thinking with his dick.

The power.

The money.

The control.

It was a high in itself. Tristian had always been weak, coming in second place to me. My fingers twitched to end him right then and there. Forcing him to tell me all his secrets until he was sick with all the truths.

“You’re late,” I announced from my spot in the corner.

I lurked in the shadows like the Grim fucking Reaper. Switching on the light, I sat there on purpose, wanting to see every single expression on his shit-eating face.

The minute he smiled at me, I knew he was too far gone.

Poisoned by his thoughts.

Infected by the need to prove something to himself, to the world, to me.

He had everything already in the palm of his hands, I knew… because I was the man who had given it to him.

I felt sad at that moment.

Devastated that he still didn’t get it.

Would he? If I let him live?

He’d had it all.

Now it was my turn to take it back from him.

Tristian folded his arms across his chest. His pristine black shirt was tucked into his black pinstripe slacks like he was ready for a business meeting and not a quick fuck with the boss’s wife.

“Does Ivan know you’re fucking his wife?”

He shrugged, still not realizing what he had done.

To us.

The family.

His flesh and blood.

“I should have known you’d figure it out one of these days. Took you long enough, Romeo.”

“Well.” I stood. “Give me a little more credit, brother. I figured something was up one year ago when I saw you with her” I nodded to her dead body “that night at the bar. I had you followed, and ever since then, let’s just say I could write a book on all the betrayals you’ve been involved in. You’re not just a rat; you’re a liability that needs to be put down, like the dog that you are.” I grinned. “Except, you were never useful in the first place, were you? Is that why you did it? Sold Family secrets to the Drozdovs? Was the money worth it? The power?”

“You don’t know shit!” Tristian gritted his teeth; his eyes were wild, out of control. Almost knocking me on my ass when he claimed…

“You made me do this! You have no one to blame but yourself!”