Mob Princess: An Arranged Dark Mafia Romance (Cruel King Book 2)

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Mob Princess: An Arranged Dark Mafia Romance (Cruel King Book 2) Page 1

by Callie Vincent




  Mob Princess

  Cruel King Book Two - A Dark Mafia Romance

  Callie Vincent

  Edited by

  Real Indie Author

  Copyright © 2020 by Callie Vincent

  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.

  This book is intended for readers 18+

  Contents

  MOB PRINCESS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Thank you for reading!

  About the Author

  MOB PRINCESS

  Can I go from being a pawn… to claiming the throne?

  I know who murdered my parents, and now, vengeance is my top priority. My Uncle may think he has me outmatched—but he couldn’t be more wrong.

  Because I have him. Israel Rossi.

  The man I was supposed to hate, manipulate and ultimately. . . destroy.

  They say ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ and Israel isn’t a man you want to challenge. For now, we are allies, but our tenuous agreement could change at any moment.

  I can’t lie. Israel is a powerful distraction from the pain raining down on me. He’s Dominating. Strong. Fierce. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man, and that’s more dangerous than the bounty on my head. This marriage may be fake, but the passion we share is very real. And even after all the lies and betrayals…there might still be a chance for us.

  But everything we’ve built may suddenly come crashing down; because Israel’s family has stepped into the picture—and dead or alive—they want me out.

  Mob Princess is the second book in the dark mafia romance trilogy, Cruel King, from author Callie Vincent. This book contains dark themes and is intended for readers 18+

  1

  Bonnie

  I sighed as I sat there, waiting for her to show up. My leg jiggled with nerves as I tried not to look around because the last thing I needed was to look shifty. I didn't know why she was back in town, or what in the world was going on. But I knew it wasn’t good.

  None of this was good.

  I kept running everything through my mind while I sat there with ice melting in my Perrier Water. I looked down at my fingers, cursing the state of my nail beds. They had been peeled and picked down to the bloody layer. My fingers had scabs around them, making me look part zombie. And through it all, things with Israel hadn’t gotten any better.

  The last thing I needed was for something like this to blow up in my face. I mean, it was bad enough that I had to catch wind about my cousin being back in town from the whispers in the corners of this town, of all places. It was bad enough that my uncle was gunning for me, that my aunt wouldn’t speak to me, and the money I was supposed to use for this operation was being siphoned right into my cousin’s hands. It was bad enough that I didn’t know which side of the fence I’d sit on after all of this was over. But, to bring my cousin back home from Hawaii without any of this stuff being wrapped up yet?

  Something was amiss.

  I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. I had to stay strong through all of this. I needed to stay strong for my future, and for a past that would never be. I had to stay strong for the little girl inside of me that screamed for mercy and begged for justice. I had to keep calm because I was the only line of defense standing in between the life I wanted to lead and the life currently chasing after me in the shadows. I wasn’t sure what I’d say to my cousin after she arrived, though. I didn’t know what I’d tell her, or what I’d open up to her about, or what I might keep from her in order to spare the emotional wrath of her sharp tongue because even though I didn’t want to admit it, I knew my uncle was guilty.

  Guilty of killing my parents.

  “Ah! There you are!”

  Brianna’s shrieking voice startled me, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

  “Oh, I missed you so, so, so much,” she giggled.

  My cousin wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight. I tried my best to hug her back, though everything inside me wanted to strangle her with my own two hands. Whether she was being completely kept in the dark about all of this or was a damn fine actress, I wasn’t sure. But I hoped our sit-down lunch—on me, of course—would reveal information I needed.

  Like whether or not my uncle really did kill my parents.

  “Okay. So, I have to tell you about this great jerk chicken place in Hawaii,” Brianna said with a smile. “They say Gordon Ramsay did a little special on it, and I don’t blame him. I mean, it was the best chicken I’ve ever had. I’ll never be able to eat chicken anywhere else.”

  I nodded. “That sounds fantastic.”

  Our waiter approached us. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”

  Brianna smiled. “I’ll have a blueberry tea and a chicken Caesar salad, thanks.”

  I grinned. “So much for no chicken, right?”

  She giggled. “Who am I kidding? I love meat.”

  I waved the waiter off so we could have some privacy because I knew the conversation wouldn't take long. She’d either talk to me, or she wouldn’t. And while I was concerned she’d been tailed; I was more worried she’d been bugged.

  So, I had to choose my words wisely. “So, when did you get back into town?”

  Briana fluffed her napkin over her lap. “Tuesday. And man, it was a crazy flight. Storms all the way, girl. Seriously.”

  “I hate that I wasn’t there to see you back in. I was hoping I’d be able to.”

  “Well, that’s why we’re here now, right? Besides, I needed the past couple of days to settle down and fully update Mom on how things were back there. You know how she is.”

  I picked up my water. “Yes. I do.”

  “But there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. And before I start, I’m not being followed.”

  I almost choked on my water. “I’m sorry. What?”

  She sighed. “Bonnie, do you really think I’m that stupid?”

  I blinked. “Uh, about what?”

  She shook her head. “I play dumb, but I’m not. I enjoy smiling, but I know what’s going on. And I’m begging you, Bonnie, back down from this war. You’re never going to win against Daddy.”

  Well, there was my answer, I guess. “So, then, I suppose you’ve also heard that rumors are floating around regarding Pava and my parent’s death.”

  She furrowed her brow. “What?”

  I licked my lips. “We have reason to believe that Pava killed my parents because he wanted my father’s empire. Is it true?”

  “Are you kidding me right now, Bonnie?”

  “No, Brianna. I’m really not. And it’s easy
for you to sit there and tell me to back down because your parents are still alive. Your family is doing just fine. But my world has been rocked in more ways than one. I won’t side with a man who tries to kill me while keeping it under wraps that he killed my family.”

  She leaned forward. “You take that back right now. My father did no such thing.”

  I met her over the small table. “Well, tell that to the guards he sent to kill us in the middle of the night. It’s a damn good thing both Israel and I are good with guns.”

  Something flashed behind her eyes as she sat up.

  My stomach curdled. She knew. She knew the truth, and I knew the truth. I wanted to vomit in my own lap.

  “A chicken Caesar salad for you, miss, and a turkey sandwich for you, ma’am,” the waiter said.

  Brianna clicked her tongue. “Always a bit too heavy on the carbs.”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t really look like your salads are doing much work over there anyway.”

  She stood quickly. “You take everything you’ve said back.”

  I waved the waiter off before I sipped my drink again. “That’s the thing about you and Pava. You’re both hot-heads. You both go from zero to one hundred much too quickly, and you don’t cover your tracks well in the process. Be careful what you say next, Brianna. Because if you think for one minute, you haven't been tailed and that we aren’t being listened to, you’re very, very wrong.”

  I pointed to the blue car sitting on the corner and watched as she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes flared with anger, but confusion sat behind them as well. Brianna had never been praised for her intelligence. She had always been treasured for her looks. For the way she presented herself. For the way she carried herself during Pava’s parties and the fashion sense she apparently had. But, when she turned around to face me once more, there was a hesitation in her forehead that wrinkled her brow. Not much, but just enough for me to tell she had officially gotten the blinds yanked off the top of her head. Then, I watched as she grabbed her napkin and dabbed at her lip and tossed it on top of her salad.

  I stayed strong while she glared at me, even though I knew she thought her glare might scare me. The joke was on her, though, because it would take a lot more than her anger to truly frighten me away from my endeavors. I straightened my back and plainly sipped my water, keeping my peripheral vision on that stupid car that had been sitting there since my cousin arrived.

  But, her low voice pulled my attention away from that car, and her words confirmed what I thought.

  She knew a great deal more than she was letting on.

  “If you do this dance with Daddy, you won’t win,” Brianna said, rising. “And I don’t want to lose my sister.”

  I remained seated. “I lost my sister the moment you decided to go along with this plan of Pava’s instead of sticking by my side.”

  “I—you—”

  “Tell me, how long have you known?”

  She stepped away from the table. “I’m done with this meeting.”

  “Did you know when you went to Hawaii?”

  “Goodbye, Bonnie.”

  “Did you know after Pava siphoned that money from my account and placed it into yours?”

  “Have a nice life, Mrs. Rossi,” Briana said as she headed for the door.

  I stood. “Or did you know the night those police officers came to my doorstep when I was nothing but a child and told me my parents were dead?”

  She froze in her tracks. She walked back to the table and said quietly, “I was a child, too. Make sure you remember that.”

  I moved toward her. “Your father might’ve been grooming you for something like this, but listen to me carefully. You’re an adult now, Brianna. You can make your own decisions. If you walk away from me right now, you’ve made your choice. This means you’ll deal with the consequences, however they’re doled out.”

  She shook her head. “Pava was right about you.”

  “Right about what?”

  She met my gaze squarely. “You’re spineless. Just like your father.”

  I felt my world spiraling around me as Brianna walked off. The sounds of the patio restaurant faded into the background as I turned to face the blue car on the corner. I watched it pull away from the curb and drive off, but the windows were so tinted I couldn't see who was inside.

  I knew who they belonged to, though.

  And I knew I was no longer safe out in the open.

  “Ma’am?” the waiter asked.

  I put on my best face. “Yes, hello. I’m sorry. My apologies for the disruption.”

  He nodded. “Will you be taking anything to-go?”

  I looked back at my sandwich. “Sure. Pack it all up. I’ll take it with me.”

  “Any dessert for you, too?”

  I paused. “Actually, yes. Two slices of your carrot cake and an order of your shepherd’s pie. With a side of steamed broccoli.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Coming right up.”

  After placing an order for Israel, I walked back inside. I backed myself into a corner and watched the front door like a hawk. Part of me wanted to call Israel, but the other part of me didn’t want to seem weak by asking him to come get me. So, I waited patiently for my to-go order.

  “And another drink on the house,” the waiter said, setting down a glass.

  I smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome back anytime, Mrs. Rossi.”

  I made my way home afterward, but I was exhausted once I got there. All I wanted to do was shove the food into the refrigerator and take a nap on the couch. Between constantly being attacked, the fear of being watched, and always having to look over my shoulder, I didn’t have an ounce of energy left in me.

  All I wanted was to collapse in Israel’s arms and take a deep breath.

  But he hadn’t been around lately.

  “Israel?” I called out when I walked in. I slipped out of my heels and picked them up. “You here, honey?”

  Silence answered me.

  I set the food on the counter and pulled my tired body up the steps, continuing to call out for him. “Israel.”

  But only the sounds of my echoing voice made it back to my ears.

  Disappointment filled my gut as I made my way down the hallway. Ever since the warehouse fire, Israel had me staying in his room. He hadn’t given me a choice in the matter, but it wasn’t a decision I wanted to fight either. I enjoyed laying with him. I enjoyed waking up to him. Even if we hardly talked, and even if he kept giving me side-glances, it still felt nice.

  His warmth was nice.

  And I wanted it more than anything right now.

  “Israel?” I asked weakly.

  I emerged into our shared bedroom, but he was nowhere to be found. The bed was perfectly made, and the smell of cleaning products wafted from the bathroom. The maid had been around already. But he was nowhere to be found. I tossed my heels in the corner and wrapped my hands behind me, tugging at the zipper of my pencil skirt.

  When it fell to the floor, I kicked it off to the side. “Naptime,” I whispered.

  Everything within me wanted to talk with him about this turf war. About what we’d do now that Pava had shown us exactly where he stood. I had some ideas on how to bring him down. I knew where some of the weak spots in his operations were. What I didn’t know, however, was how to take what I knew and execute a smooth plan with it.

  I needed Israel for that.

  “Oh, yeah,” I groaned, face-planting into the fresh sheets before I pulled the comforter down. I wiggled my tired body against the cool, satin sheets and rolled on my side. I gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined Israel’s penthouse. As I looked out over a city I loved so dearly, I wondered what it might be like to live somewhere else.

  Like New York City. Or Miami. Or Dallas.

  “Or Paris,” I whispered.

  As my eyes fell closed, I ran down a list of my uncle’s supporters I could easily turn against him. That man had screwed so
many people over and had blackmailed so many more that I was sure they’d turn on him. For the right incentive, of course. Israel had more money than God, but some of these men didn’t want money. Some were fueled by necessity, others by bloodlust. I knew some of the shops would take his monetary offerings, but I also knew others were fueled by something much deeper. Much darker. Much more permanent than an extra flow of cash for their support.

  Some were fueled by revenge.

  All I had to do was figure out how to tap into it without their fear of my uncle overwhelming them.

  I laid there, running down their names, rehashing the sins my uncle had committed against them. Some of the things I remembered from being a young girl in Pava’s house even shocked me. I didn’t think I had retained a great deal of the information I thought I had. But, after living my entire life just above Pava’s office in my childhood bedroom, I suppose I became privy to things he thought his ‘sound-proofed’ walls kept inside. And I planned on using that knowledge to my advantage. I knew some of these business owners would be easier to flip than others. And some wouldn't be easy at all. That’s why I wanted to approach the easiest first. I’d never done anything like this before, and approaching the easiest would not only give me a chance to practice with very little fallout, but there was a higher success rate with flipping them even if I bungled things. And Israel needed me to succeed in my endeavors.

  Because that lessened the risk of someone going back to Pava and blabbering about what we were doing.

 

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