Innocent Obsession: A Mafia Romance (The Dirty Kings of Vegas Book 2)

by Frankie Love

  Innocent Obsession

  A Dirty Kings of Vegas Mafia Romance, Book 2

  Frankie Love

  Alice May Ball

  Contents

  About

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  About the Author

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2021 by Frankie Love

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  About

  Innocent Obsession

  A Dirty Kings of Vegas Mafia Romance, Book 2

  By Frankie Love with Alice May Ball

  I’m a man of few words.

  I use my fists instead of my voice to get the job done.

  And I always get what I want.

  Except when it comes to love.

  Lucy’s my little sister’s best friend – she’s also my obsession.

  She’s cute and curvy, with a smile that feels like sunshine and a heart of gold… which means she’s way too sweet for an effed-up mobster like me.

  When I finally get my shot with her, all hell breaks loose.

  My love for her is innocent, but my past is full of dark and deadly deeds.

  Right now, they’re catching up with me.

  And they just may cost us everything.

  Dear Reader,

  It’s dirty, it’s dark, and it’s double virgins!

  This one cuts to the chase, giving you what you crave.

  A nice and thick… romance. Enjoy!

  Xo, Frankie and Alice

  The Dirty Kings of Vegas is a mafia romance series with love at its core.

  We met the O’Malley clan back in the novel McQueen – but here they are again, ready to show everyone who’s boss!

  Frankie Love has teamed up with the sinfully sweet Alice May Ball and together they’re ready to roll the dice on love.

  Chapter One

  Paul

  With a silver knife, I make my water glass ring like a bell. Down the long table, the faces of all my family and the few select invited guests turn, and I want to sink into the floor. But it has to be done.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I need your attention.”

  An O’Malley family dinner is always a loud and boisterous affair. This evening is particularly rowdy. Even though this dinner is partly in my honor, I wish I could drop the speech and give all of my attention to one guest at the far end of the table. Over the rims of dozens of wine, whiskey, beer and water glasses and through the sea of faces, down at the other end of the table, Lucy’s bright, innocent eyes sparkle.

  It’s true that I’ve changed over the past few weeks. As the new boss of a major Las Vegas casino, I don’t think of myself so much as a dirty hoodlum. Running a big business, some respectability rubs off on you. At least a little bit.

  It’s a new feeling. I don’t feel I need to keep myself so much in the shadows. Between the sheer amount of money the casino generates and the number of staff who depend on me, I have status. It feels better than the grudging respect that I’m used to. It’s cleaner.

  Mobsters in this town respect me because they fear me. O’Malley is a name that sets them quaking on its own. But, as the youngest of the O’Malley brothers, I’ve always been determined to live up to the family name that our father has built with sheer guts and heart.

  I’m not the strongest of the brothers. There’s no question that would be the middle brother, Peter. And the smartest of us is John, the eldest, there’s no doubt. Compared to my two older brothers, I have always been quiet. Reserved. Even before I got my scar.

  Still, my reputation has spread far and wide.

  Across Las Vegas and all over Clark County, and in Boston where our family hails from, my name is feared as the O’Malley family enforcer. My fame, or notoriety, comes from my fierce and ruthless determination to get the job done. Whatever it takes.

  That means I’ve got a lot of bad deeds behind me.

  There’s an open, airy sense of freedom I get from being out in the light. But it’s a different kind of freedom than I’m used to.

  In the light, you can stand tall and proud. But in the shadows, you can do anything.

  It surprised me that I slipped so easily and comfortably into my new life, wearing fine suits and expensive shirts, and not getting them ruined with splashes of blood. Making sure that all my employees do what they’re supposed to, getting what I want without having to threaten or terrorize them.

  Turns out, people do what you tell them if you have clear rules and you pay them well. Who knew it could be so simple?

  When I stride across the casino floor, supervising the staff and security, I’m out of my comfort zone. I’m not naturally what you would call a people person.

  Speaking in front of large groups is something else I don’t do much of. It stressed me to give the best man’s speech at my middle brother’s wedding a few weeks ago. Getting up to stand and talk, even to the family, makes me uncomfortable.

  As I rise up out of my seat now, the glow of Lucy’s eyes makes me draw a breath.

  I tap the glass again.

  The speech I have to give is about the family. It’s about Dad. How his maverick spirit cut through the crap, did whatever it took to lift us out of poverty. From our roots in Boston to where we are now.

  And it’s about the new casino. Buying the downtown casino is a major step up for the O’Malleys in Las Vegas, and we’re going to rebrand it in Dad’s image.

  It’s a great speech. I worked for hours on it. If only I could remember the words. The start is about the family roots, and that’s all I can remember. Like a leap off a bridge, I shove the first phrases out, hoping they’ll pull the rest of the speech out after them.

  As I blurt and stumble over the words, it’s like I’m trudging uphill in a blizzard, dragging a huge rock. Whatever sense or meaning was in the words, it all blows away.

  I blink to avoid Lucy’s eyes but, like a drunk trying to walk a straight line, I fall straight into them. Struggling for control, I stiffen and straighten. I lift my voice. Light breaks out inside me.

  I can’t even hear what I’m saying, but I feel it. Like a song, when you couldn’t say the words but you know you can sing them, it opens in my throat. Bright faces nod. Smiles shine. Eyes gleam and moisten.

  I’m saying the words, talking about Dad, and he sits back in the big chair. A Cheshire Cat grin spreads across his face.

  I still can’t remember the speech, but it’s in my chest, ready. Words rise and fall, and I follow.

  At the end, everybody claps. I don’t know if they’re all clapping because the speech was good, or because they’re so relieved it’s over. Or simply because I didn’t topple face-first into the punch bowl.

  My brothers stand, applauding. They both look from me to Dad and back. I’m searching for Lucy’s soft curves. One look at her always gets me jump-started.

  But I can’t find her.

  The family has rules. Codes. Formalities to observe.

  After the speech, I must make my way down the table to Dad’s chair. Every
man I pass extends a hand. They pay respect, I greet them back. It’s a dance. Each exchange adds respect, and I collect the tributes for my father.

  He receives it when he stands and claps me on the shoulder. A glint of a smile in his eye tells me that he’s pleased.

  “I hear the Morettis are getting hot under the collar about how much work and development is going into the relaunch. Lucas said our new casino is sweeping up all of the local talent.” He fixes me with his eyes.

  “I know, Dad.”

  “Are you doing it on purpose?”

  “Scooping up and poaching as much of the local talent as I can? Dropping a wrench into their gaming operations? Are you asking if I’m doing that on purpose?”

  “No, Paul. I know that you are.”

  “I’ve got no experience in this kind of work, Dad. So I always try to think, ‘What would Dad do?’ and I try to let that guide me.”

  He reaches out. Then he taps my chops. Holds my jaw in his palm and looks hard in my eyes.

  He leans closer. “Good job, Paul. But watch your back. Listen to your feelings, but listen carefully. Don’t be too quick to believe what’s on the surface.”

  I squeeze his hand.

  He leans nearer. Lowers his voice. “A team has come to town from Boston.”

  “The Moretti family?”

  “Freelancers they hired in.”

  “Do we know what for?”

  His lips tighten and his head shakes. “Nothing good.”

  My sister JoJo pulls me aside. “You’ve been drinking water all evening.”

  JoJo’s husband, McQueen, smiles and leans over to shake my hand. “Great speech.”

  “I was nervous about giving it.”

  JoJo smiles. “Oh, it was great, Paul. You did really well.” Sometimes, I think JoJo understands me. She may be the only member of the family who does. She says, “That wasn’t what I meant, though. I meant you haven’t been drinking so you could drive Lucy home.”

  Instinctively, I look around for JoJo’s best friend. I still haven’t seen her since I got up to speak. At last I find her. Quiet, reserved and alone, in the corner of the room. She’s gorgeous.

  “Would she not rather have a limo?” I ask JoJo. “Sit in the back with a glass of champagne?”

  “She’d like something more personal.” She looks in my eyes like she’s trying to tell me something. Who knows what goes on in women’s minds? All I do know is that I can trust my sister JoJo.

  “Your speech was great.” Lucy’s smile warms me. “You really got across what this family means to you. I know you struck a chord with JoJo. Other people definitely responded, too.”

  Her eyes set off a wave of feelings. Sensations that I don’t know how to cope with.

  I shake my head. “That must be what it’s like for people on stage. I don’t think I could ever go through it again.”

  She touches my hand. I feel a thump inside me, like a roll of thunder, a quake from deep underground. “This is such an incredible family, Paul. I feel lucky to be here.”

  “You’ve been JoJo’s best friend so long, you’re almost part of the family.”

  She squeezes my hand. “I don’t know all of you as well as I’d like to.”

  I’m wishing I had a drink now. “JoJo said you might like me to drive you home. I don’t know if you’re ready to leave though.”

  “Oh,” her eyes shine as her moist lips part, “yes, Paul.”

  Chapter Two

  Lucy

  Since I was in college, I’ve had two serious crushes. Both at the same time. That makes me feel kind of slutty. And I wouldn’t like to admit it, but I do kind of like the feeling. One is on Paul, and I’ll probably feel that way about him forever.

  He almost never speaks, but you can always feel how strong his dark depths are underneath it all.

  One time, I saw him in a rage. That should have put me off him. I kept on telling myself that. But it didn’t. It only made me want him more.

  A man in a bar was looking at me and he said something I didn’t hear. Paul sprang and lunged. He must have put the whole of his weight into that punch. The man’s arms and legs went out and up. He spun backward and fell in a heap.

  I melted into my panties. The aching pulse inside me has pounded hard for him ever since.

  My other crush is my mystery man. I have a guardian angel. For years now, wherever I go, someone is watching over me.

  Every year since I left college, I’ve gotten a birthday card, cards at Easter and Christmas, and a romantic Valentine’s card. All unsigned. A basket of flowers gets delivered to my apartment every week, wherever I’m living. No card, just a lovely arrangement of fresh blooms, always in a pretty basket shaped like a top hat.

  I’ve never met him—I’m sure it’s a him—and I’ve never even seen him, but whenever there’s any trouble, someone takes care of it.

  Once, my car broke down and had to be towed, then there was a huge amount of work that needed doing. When I went to the shop to collect it, everything was paid for, the car had been valeted and detailed, and a bouquet of flowers was on the driver’s seat.

  My last landlord tried some creepy and sketchy shit once, and a day later, he had a personality transplant. Couldn’t do enough for me.

  All this is unexplained and wonderful, but JoJo thinks I should be getting my life into gear.

  “It’s like you’re living your life on hold,” she says. “You can’t be saving yourself forever for some mystery man, Lucy. He seems wonderful, but how do you know that he’s even real?”

  “He must be real. You’ve seen the cards, JoJo. And the flowers. You remember when my car broke down? And that landlord who tried to… well, you remember.” I shudder. “What a creep.”

  “I’m so glad you got out of there.”

  “Me, too.” I thought I would have to fight to keep my little V-card. Not that it means all that much, but that slimy beast… “But you remember. It just stopped. All the threats and harassment and… everything. One day it started up, then less than forty-eight hours later, it stopped. Instead, he was leaving messages offering me rent-free months, asking if there were any repairs or renovations I wanted.”

  “I remember. It happened right after you told me about it.”

  “It’s you! JoJo. You’re my secret admirer.”

  “Yeah. Just wait until McQueen hears about it.” He was her stripper hunk of a husband.

  “You think he’ll go for it?”

  “McQueen? Don’t even joke about it. He gets mad enough at the thought of a man looking at me. A woman? I don’t even want to think what he would do.”

  “And he’s a dancer.”

  “I know, right? You can go and watch him. That’s fine.” Not that I have. “You can check out all the big thrills in my married life whenever you want…”

  “JoJo…” I hide my face and make bars with my fingers.

  “Okay, Lucy. Maybe your secret admirer is real. But what if he’s one of those billionaire recluses? What if you never meet him?” She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Maybe it’s someone with a reason to stay in the shadows. Or it could be that he’s just too shy to come forward.”

  When Paul offers to drive me home, it’s all I can do to stop myself from springing into his arms.

  “Don’t go home with the car service.” His voice is so dark and strong. “Allow me to chauffeur you.”

  “Will you put on a uniform with a cap?”

  “Would you like that?”

  “Paul, I’m really glad that you haven’t had a drink. It’s lovely that you want to drive me home.” I peer up at him. “I know I’ll always be safe with you. I’ve had a couple of drinks, though. Are you sure that you’re going to be safe with me?”

  I chatter all the way on the drive home. All I want is for him to keep looking at me the way he does. Anything I can say to make him turn his head, so I can feel his eyes on me. So I get a faint whiff of his breath. A little more of the scent of him.

  His scent
is a dizzying mix of expensive cologne and a darker note of raw man. It feels dirty, and scary, in the best way. But it makes me afraid. I’ve been kissed before. I’ve fooled around. But just looking into Paul’s eyes feels like going further than I’ve ever gone with a man before.

  The heat of his body close to mine in the car makes me think I’ve never been with a man at all.

  And I’ve crushed on him so hard since the first time I met him. He drove out to my and Jojo’s dorm to pick her up from school.

  He seemed like the most dangerous man I ever met. I loved his car and his suit. And the scar under his dagger-sharp eye dripped shivers down my belly. It made me think of nursing and protecting him. Of him needing someone when the wound was open. Needing someone like me.

  Of course, he wouldn’t, but the idea of him needing me got me hot inside.

  And I’ve needed him ever since.

  As I give him directions, I turn to face him. Lean with my hand on his thigh.

  I tell him, “Your speech was amazing.” I’m trying to judge whether it’s too much for me to bring up what JoJo told me about him, from when he was a boy. It feels like we’re getting on well and I don’t want to risk upsetting things. He smiles and I let it pass.

  When I point and tell him, “Turn right here,” I get a silly little-girl thrill when he does what I say. It makes my core heat up. I know what I really want is for him to tell me what to do. Make me give him what he wants. Even if it’s bad.