Monster Inside Me: Volume I (A Dark Mafia Romance Book 1)

by Faye Byrd

  “The first night, too?” she asks in a fake sugary voice.

  Now I think it’s her who’s making my head fucking spin with all the questions. “No. The first night, I just happened upon you and was pissed you were walking alone so late at night.”

  “Aha,” she says triumphantly, causing my head to jerk back in her direction. With her finger pointing at me, she says, “See? Not such a big bad, scary man after all.”

  Jesus Fucking Christ! It is her that’s making my head spin. “Your point?”

  She bends so her face is hovering just above mine. “You’re more than a killer, Dante Simone.”

  I blink and stare at her, seriously questioning my sanity. The more I consider it, the more I think she’s just an apparition—some fucked up vision my mind is conjuring. But whatever she is, the tension that’s crackling between us makes my heart speed, sending excess blood rushing to my head. Too fucking bad for me that in my current state, it only makes me dizzier.

  Groaning, I run both hands through my hair and close my eyes in an attempt to gain my bearings. When I reopen them, she’s still there but back to her standing position.

  Maybe it is all real.

  I stretch my hand out and grip her calf, urging her to step closer. When she does, I relax my hold and run my thumb against the soft skin. “I’m so fucked in the head right now that I can barely carry on this conversation, much less keep up. All I wanted was to see you again, but this day’s been one big clusterfuck.”

  Piper smiles softly. “Well, you got one wish, at least. Here I am.” She motions to herself with her hands.

  “Yes,” I agree with a smirk—I think. “Here you are.”

  I don’t know how long we stay that way—time’s pretty fucked for me right now—but it feels like a minute or maybe even an hour. My thumb continues its circuit, caressing the soft skin of her leg, and she lets me.

  A whistle from the floor below interrupts the silence as Piper snaps from the moment, stepping back so that my hand drops to the floor. “It’s pretty late. I think Maddy is ready to lock up.”

  I growl at hearing her name. “I have a key. Just tell her to go the fuck on.”

  Piper squats beside me and brushes her fingers across my hand. “Why don’t I just help you home instead?” she asks softly, and my eyes snap to hers.

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t need help,” I reply, lowering my voice. “But if you want to go home with me, just fucking say so.”

  Piper huffs and rolls her eyes, standing and crossing her arms. “Such a cocky fucker, aren’t you? Even after your little show earlier, I was being nice, but you can just go fuck yourself.”

  She turns to stomp away, and even though I have no damn clue what’s she on about, I don’t want her to go. I jerk my legs up and stand with a swiftness I’m not prepared for. The whole fucking room spins, and I lose the ability to stay upright. My ass lands back on the lounger with a resounding thump, my vision vibrating into one big blur.

  I close my eyes and breathe deeply, trying to settle my stomach as much as my goddamn inebriated mind. Fuck! I slap my hand on the leather beside me in frustration with both myself and Piper.

  Why does shit have to be so fucking complicated?

  And why the hell did I get so goddamn drunk?

  Taking steady, deep breaths, I bring my hands up and dig my palms into my eyes, staying that way until the spinning stops and the fucking darkness levels out. This goddamn day is only getting worse, and it’s never-fucking-ending.

  Can’t a guy catch a fucking break?

  A nudge to my leg brings me out of the little pity party happening inside my head, and a surge of hope rushes through me. My breathing speeds ever so slightly, and I work to calm myself before opening my eyes. I drop my arms and grunt as I lift onto my elbows to face the woman who probably should’ve left me lying here like the drunken asshole I am.

  “Piper,” I say evenly, afraid she’ll disappear if I let her see how fucking ecstatic it makes me that she’s here. “You stayed.”

  As I sit up fully, she sighs and flops down beside me on the lounger. “You can’t even stand. Of course I stayed.”

  I smirk—mostly because I’m a stupid motherfucker. “If you say so.”

  “Look, Dante,” she starts, pinning me with her dark, irritated eyes. “I don’t know what I expected when I came up here, but this isn’t it. I’m not sure why you did this to yourself, but I’m going to help you get home.” Before I can say something stupid—again—she slips her hand over my mouth. “No snide remarks. No innuendo. No nothing. Just let me help you home. Okay?”

  Because I can’t fucking speak, I nod, and she slowly lowers her hand to her lap. “Thank you, Piper.”

  “Any time, Dante,” she says softly, her hands wringing in her lap. “And I mean it, but you have to understand, the last time I entertained the idea of”—she pauses and glances away from me—“spending time with you, I had a gun pulled on me.”

  I grip her hands to stop their anxious movements and reach over with my pointer finger, tilting her face back in my direction. “That will never fucking happen again,” I growl, unable to rein in the anger at the image of my father and his gun. I take a deep breath and try again. “I’m not going to lie and say there are no issues when it comes to us. Our fathers made their wishes clear, but I promise it was all for show. You’re free to do as you please.”

  If she’s taken aback at the passion in my voice, she doesn’t show it. She only stares at me with those fucking seductive eyes. “I’d like to believe that, but we’re talking about my life here, not some random person who may or may not be on your hit list.” She smiles to let me know she’s joking, but I don’t like that it bothers her—and it does, or she wouldn’t have said it.

  “Just trust me on this,” I state firmly, pushing a wayward curl behind her ear. “Stefano Simone is no threat to you.”

  She bats her eyes all innocently and shit before asking, “Am I confused on which of you is the Boss?”

  Fucking smartass.

  I throw my hands in the air with a snort. “Can’t win with you, can I?”

  Her satisfied laugh makes me smile. “How about I get you home, and we call that a win?” she asks as she gets to her feet and motions for me to join her.

  I take a deep breath and blow it out before attempting to stand. This shit hasn’t worked out very well for me tonight. On unsteady legs, and with the meager assistance of Piper holding on to my arm for extra balance, I fucking finally put my feet to use without my head sending me back on my ass.

  I chuckle, proud of myself, but it only makes me woozy. “Shit!”

  I sway on my feet, but Piper’s there, slipping her arm around my waist to steady me. Her body settles against mine, and she’s surprisingly sturdy for such a small woman. “See? This is why you need help. Now, where to?”

  I look around for a minute to gain my bearings before pointing toward the elevator. “Over there.”

  The going is slow when we start, the first ten steps a little rocky, but by the time we step into the small box, my head is a little less fucking scattered. Not quite enough to have a repeat of our last encounter, but that doesn’t stop the tension from mounting. It’s goddamn suffocating by the time the doors open.

  Piper isn’t as quick to snuggle up to me this time, which causes me to smirk to myself as I move to the wall and use it for extra support. When we come to the fingerprint door, she lifts her brow as it opens but otherwise says nothing. It isn’t until we exit into my garage that she realizes what we just did.

  “Ah, nice,” she says, seemingly impressed with my underground passageway. “There’s always going to be more to uncover, I see.”

  I huff out a laugh as I see Lorenzo stepping from his office. “Trust me, there’s plenty you don’t want to know.”

  “Boss?” he says as he approaches us.

  “Piper mi sta solo aiutando a tornare a casa. Avevo un po 'troppo da bere.” I wave him off, explaining that Piper’s he
lping me home because of my overindulgence.

  He gets that same damn look he gave me the last time we were here together. My eyes narrow. “Don’t.”

  He throws his hands up and backs away. “Nessun problema.”

  I go to roll my fucking eyes, but then I remember the shape my head’s in and think twice. Instead, I just watch as he retreats before cutting my eyes to Piper—the intensity of her stare causes an unexplainable heat to move over my body.

  I look away, and still using the wall for support, I point to the elevator. “Just one more ride and you’ll have performed your civic duty.”

  When she almost chokes—on what, I have no goddamn idea—I move to pat her on the back. “What the fuck, Piper. Are you okay?”

  She coughs a couple times and moves away from my touch, her eyes on the elevator ahead. “Yeah, sure. Saliva just went down the wrong pipe, I guess.”

  “Well, fuck. Be careful,” I say with a chuckle as I scan my thumbprint.

  This elevator ride is even tenser than the last—and twice as fucking long, too. But I don’t attack, and that’s mostly because I’m afraid I’ll fall on my ass if every bit of my concentration isn’t on standing. Only the sound of our breaths can be heard, and they’re fucking heavy—both of us panting like goddamn dogs in the summertime by the time the doors open again.

  As we step into my penthouse, I turn to her and shrug apologetically. “I would offer you a drink, but ya know.”

  She laughs a little—fucking finally—and motions toward the stairs. “Let me help you to bed, and I’ll be on my way.”

  Both my brows rise before a slow smirk lifts the corner of my lip—now this shit, I can get behind. But before I can decide which line to use, she steps closer and braces herself against me the way she did at Dark Star.

  “I’m serious, Dante. No innuendo, remember? Now point me to your room,” she says, and her voice is all clinical and shit. I don’t like it, not one fucking bit.

  I take advantage of the position as much as I can without getting scolded and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “That way.”

  Though I can tell she’s surprised I didn’t point to the stairs, she doesn’t say anything. She just starts guiding me to my room. A flutter of something strange moves through me, but I shake off that unusual bullshit.

  When we enter my room, I can’t help but watch her as she takes it in. This is my sanctuary. Every single item was handpicked—well, the whole penthouse really—by me, and I take special pride in my taste, especially when it comes to this room.

  She guides me to the bed and removes herself from my side, prompting me to take a seat. “You need me to get your PJs or something?”

  I stretch out my legs and let the games begin. “You gonna help me get ready for bed?”

  Her eyes jump back to mine when she recognizes the challenge in my voice. Her chin lifts, and she crosses her arms, drawing my eyes to the mounds that peek from the top of her tank. “What, you think that’ll be an issue for me?”

  I lick my lips, and my eyes jump to hers. “I think it’ll be an issue for us both.”

  She fucking snorts. “Not likely.”

  I widen my arms, motioning to myself. “I sleep in the nude.”

  You know that moment when you see someone balk? I’ve seen it a million fucking times, and this is it. A flash of shock moves over her face so quickly I almost miss it before she digs in her heels and squares her shoulders, starting in my direction.

  I tense, unsure what to expect, but when her hands go to the buttons of my shirt, the tension becomes anticipatory. Her fingers slide down my chest, and my shirt is open and falling from my shoulders before I can even out my breathing. My white silk undershirt is discarded just as fucking swiftly.

  Fuck!

  The next goddamn thing I know, I’m flat on my back, and her fingers are working my slacks. Even in my current state, the traitor down below makes his preference known, rising to the fucking occasion. But right now, I can’t be bothered to fucking care because as she removes my socks, the thump of my Kershaw knife as it hits the carpet seems to be the only sound in the room.

  Piper’s still in her bent position, her eyes on the floor—well, on my knife I’m goddamn sure. But I remain silent, propped on my elbows, watching her. Slowly, she stoops lower, retrieving the weapon and standing to her full height. Her seductive eyes flicker to me, then back to the Kershaw before she swipes her thumb, causing the blade to swing open.

  My forgotten cock jumps in my black silk boxers, and she takes fucking notice. Her eyes rove over me, burning every inch of my skin, and I’m helpless to stop it—or advance it—so I do what I do best. I challenge her.

  “Is that it, Piper?” I run my tongue over my bottom lip. The image of her holding my knife is the stuff fantasies are made of.

  Her eyes rake up from my already straining bulge to meet mine. She lifts a brow and closes the knife in one swift move, placing it on the nightstand. “You’re not naked yet,” she snarks before grabbing my boxers and tugging.

  I’m equally turned on and frustrated because it’s obvious from her attitude that this is as far as I’m getting tonight. I sigh and scoot up, pulling the duvet back and crawling under, allowing all the cottony goodness to envelop me. “You should be glad I’m off my game tonight.”

  “I’m not a game, Dante. What we did was ridiculously hot. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t imagined a repeat performance, but I won’t be someone’s toy.” She looks around and locates my pants, pulling my cell from the pocket and tossing it to me. “Just call Red Dress if that’s your intention.”

  I search my memory, confused—until it hits me. Caroline. I bark a laugh. “Sit, Piper.” I pat the bed. “Red Dress’s name is Caroline, and yes, we were seeing each other—six months ago. I may not be boyfriend material, but I respect the woman I’m with by only sleeping with her. Once I’m no longer satisfied, I move on.”

  “Did you tell her that?” she asks, lifting an incredulous brow. “Because she didn’t seem to know.”

  “Trust me, when I’m no longer there, she knows,” I respond with a shake of my head. “But that’s the beauty of it. I don’t ask for a commitment from her because I know our relationship will never move beyond the dating stage.”

  “So, what? Long-term fuck buddies?” She snorts.

  I reach over and run my fingertip up her arm. “Sometimes long, sometimes short. Depends,” I say with a one-shoulder shrug. “But never think I don’t know how to treat a woman. I realize they need attention aside from sexual satisfaction, so I don’t think fuck buddy is the proper term.”

  “So you’re a perpetual dater,” she says after mulling it over.

  “Sure.” I shrug. “If you have to classify it. I have perpetually dated the same woman for almost two years before.”

  She nods and looks down, watching her fingers as they trace the design on my duvet. “And now?”

  “I’m only sleeping with you,” I respond truthfully.

  Her head jerks up and her eyes narrow. “You’ve only slept with me once.”

  I smirk—a full-on drunk, pretty-boy smirk. “So far.”

  She gets up and grabs a decorative pillow, lobbing it at my head. “We’ll see. Now get some sleep.”

  “Wait,” I call out, stopping her before she gets to my doors. “Let me call Lorenzo to give you a ride home.” She starts shaking her head, so I sit up and jab my finger in her direction. “Yes. Or I’ll get up and escort you myself.”

  “Fine,” she says with a huff.

  After the call is made and Lorenzo’s instructions are clear, I crook my finger, hoping to lure her back for a kiss goodnight. She’s having none of it—probably because my mouth tastes like ass.

  “Sleep, Dante. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again.”

  “It’s a date.” I smirk and close my eyes, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

  EIGHT

  FLAVOR OF THE MONTH

  As my mind stirs from the
deep recesses of sleep, images begin to flash behind my lids—fucking awesome images—ones so good I want to linger here forever. I burrow my head under my Egyptian cotton sheets and allow last night to play through my mind—even though there’s a dull fucking ache from the sudden movement.

  My memory of Piper on her podium is sublime, and apparently, my cock agrees as it twitches to life. I’m almost tempted to give him a go, but I have no fucking intention of defiling my bed like I did my poor couch.

  I’ll never be able to sit there again.

  Though I’d love to stay buried in my cocoon and relive every single goddamn millisecond of the time I spent in her presence, I fucking can’t. The stench of my breath as it fills the cavern I’ve made is choking me to damn death, so I throw back the duvet, only to be blinded by the bright-ass fucking sunlight streaming through the windows. I bury my aching head in the crook of my arm as the other hand searches for the remote on the nightstand, breathing a sigh of relief as the room begins to darken to a more acceptable level.

  As I go to pull back my hand, it brushes against something that isn’t normally there, which causes me to squint toward the nightstand. My fucking heart does some kind of bullshit flip in my chest when I realize there’s a glass of water with two small white pills sitting beside it. There’s also a little piece of paper.

  Dante,

  Take two of these and call me in the morning.

  Or whatever.

  Piper

  There’s nothing remarkable about the note, but the fact that she left it at all does all kinds of weird things to my insides. An uncomfortable flutter starts in my stomach and moves up into my chest like a fucking bubble that lodges in my airway, causing me to take a deep breath to dispel it.

  I feel like a pussy.

  Fuck this shit.

  I sit up, grabbing the pills and water from the nightstand, wishing I could just fucking ignore them, but my pounding head won’t allow it. Swallowing them, I set the glass back down, making sure to bury that little fucking note underneath it.

  I might even smile when I see the ink run from the moisture.