Falling for the Killer: A Dark Possessive Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “Ash,” I said. “What happened?”

  She looked back at me, tears in her eyes. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “And before you ask, yes, you’re the father. I haven’t been with anyone else.”

  I stared at her and said nothing. I felt the blood pulse in my ears like an ocean rushing over sand.

  Pregnant. With my baby. Ash Adamson, rich girl, wealthy family, knocked up.

  With my baby.

  I never wanted to be a father. I never wanted any of this. My parents were pieces of shit, and I didn’t want to bring another life in this world if I couldn’t guarantee I’d be better. But I wasn’t a good man, and so children were off the table for me.

  Then I probably should’ve worn a condom, or at least come in her pretty mouth instead of between her perfect legs.

  Pregnant. With my baby.

  The shock started to thaw. I took a step toward her and reached out numbly. “What can I do?” I asked softly. “You can stay here, if you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” she said quickly. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you.” She sat down on the couch and leaned forward, her hands over her face. She was trembling.

  I sat down next to her and gently touched her back. She cried, but didn’t pull away. I stayed with her, unable to say anything. I didn’t know how to comfort her—I didn’t even fully understand what she was going through. She was an alien to me, and her world was utterly foreign. The idea that she’d marry that weak-dicked Stuart fuck was repulsive, and yet she seemed to think it was necessary, like it was her duty or something.

  But she was pregnant with my baby. I couldn’t let her go back there, not if she planned on going through with his marriage. She was pregnant with my child, my baby, and there was no fucking world in which that Stuart guy raised my child, no way in goddamn hell would that ever happen.

  For the first time in forever, I felt powerless.

  She calmed down after a few minutes and looked up at me, tear-stained eyes glittering in my overhead lights. “I’m sorry to just sit here and cry,” she said. “It’s probably not very nice. I mean, I’m not crying because it’s your baby, and I guess I sort of am. I’m just really confused right now.”

  “I understand,” I said. “You thought your life would be one thing, and now it’s something different.”

  “Yeah,” she said, chewing on her lip. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  I had a million thoughts, but only one cut through, loud and clear: don’t let her leave, no matter what.

  If she left and went home, she’d go back to that life. Right now, she was on the precipice of something, and if I let her walk out that door then she’d step away and return to what was safe. I couldn’t fight her family. They’d crush me with money and lawyers and hired muscle if it came to violence.

  But if she stayed here, stayed with me, I could show her what a real man was like.

  I could keep my baby.

  It was stupid and crazy, but I had to convince her to stay.

  “You’re upset,” I said, and gently rubbed her back. She nodded a little and leaned into my hand. “You’re probably scared. Have you told anyone else yet?”

  She shook her head slightly. “Only you. I had this feeling, and my period’s late, so I bought a test and—” She stopped herself and took a deep breath. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”

  “Then stay here tonight,” I said as gently as I could.

  She pulled away from me. “What?”

  I held my hands up. “Just for tonight,” I said. “I don’t want you going back home and doing something stupid.”

  “Like what?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Like telling your parents before you decided what you’re going to do. You’re upset and you’re scared, and I think you should stay here tonight to get yourself together. You really think going back home’s going to help?”

  She opened her mouth then shut it again. Her eyes softened slightly and I felt a quick patter in my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this fucking nervous in my entire life. I’d gone to kill men and felt less, and yet here was some beautiful, small girl sitting across from me, pregnant with my child, eyes still damp with tears, scared out of her mind—and all I wanted to do was help her, and I was terrified of the whole thing.

  “I’m afraid you have ulterior motives,” she said.

  “Nothing sexual,” I said. “I swear to you. I have an extra room you can sleep in. The door locks if that helps.”

  She laughed a little. “It actually does.”

  “Then come on. Sleep here. We can talk, or I can give you space, but either way you won’t be alone at least.”

  She stood up suddenly and walked across my living room. I watched her carefully, ready to spring up if she decided to make a run for it. I didn’t know what I’d do—force her to stay with me, plead with her not to go, maybe something worse. I wasn’t sure, but I knew I didn’t want to hurt her, not matter what happened.

  “I don’t know,” she said and started chewing on her fingernails then seemed to stop when she noticed herself doing it. “God, I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

  “You have every right to be.” I didn’t know where I had all this patience. I’d never felt like this for a woman before, much less for a girl I’d met only once before. That sex was incredible, but we’d barely shared more than a few words and yet I felt like I couldn’t let her walk away. I felt like this girl meant more to me than I’d ever realize, and if I passed up on this chance then something like it would never come around for me again.

  I didn’t have an easy life. I didn’t come from money like her, and I sure as hell didn’t have future prospects. I was a violent gangster because it’s all I’ve ever known, even as a young man running around the streets of South Philly with a dead dad and a drunk mom and an abusive piece of shit stepfather named Jerry. I turned to drugs and fucking and drinking and stealing, and slowly turned into a monster.

  But Ash, she was still pure. Spoiled and rich, but still pure. I saw it in the way she didn’t want to moan, the way she controlled herself while I fucked her and brought her to a leg-shaking, back-arching orgasm. That level of control came from years and years of repression, some deep-seated shit. She was going to marry some piece of shit because her family wanted her to, and I could only begin to imagine what sort of pressure she felt.

  This baby must’ve been a nightmare for a girl like her. And yet to me, it felt like heaven, and a chance at something good for once in my miserable, piece of shit life.

  All I had to do was show her that she’d be happier with me.

  “One night,” she said, glaring at me over her fingers. She let out a sigh and started chewing on her thumb. “But no sex, and if you try then I’m running out of here as fast as I can.”

  “No sex,” I said. “I promise.”

  “Good.” She hesitated and looked around. “Where’s this extra room?”

  “Right this way, my lady.”

  She rolled her eyes, but smiled and followed me. I took her upstairs and showed her the guest room. It was pretty sparse: bed, dresser, nightstand, TV, and nothing else. “Bathroom’s in the hall,” I said as she sat on the edge of the bed and bounced a little. “Sheets and everything are clean. I’ll leave some towels for you next to the shower.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Want me to stay?” I asked. “We can talk more, if you want. I’m curious about you.”

  She looked down at her hands and ran her thumbs around each other in quick little circles. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, looking up. “I thought a guy like you would—” She cut herself off and shook her head.

  I let out a soft chuckle. “Guy like me?” I asked.

  “Mafia,” she said. “Is that for real? I mean, are you really in the mob?”

  “I work for a family that engages in certain illicit activities,” I said slowly. “If that makes me part of a mafia
—”

  “Which it definitely does,” she said.

  “—then yes,” I said, “I am.”

  We watched each other in silence. I could almost see the thoughts pinging around her brain, wondering if she was safe or if she should get away. I was sure she was having some second thoughts right about now, but she only shook her head again and leaned back on her hands.

  “I’ll stay here,” she said. “I think I just want to try to go to sleep if that’s okay.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I’m right down the hall if you need me.” I turned and walked to the door.

  “Gian,” she said before I could leave.

  I looked back at her. “Yeah?”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, and sounded genuinely confused. I felt a stab of guilt and sadness right then, like the girl had never had someone be kind to her before. I thought I had it bad, but at least the Valentino family treated me right and I found some respect among the soldiers and the other Capos. We weren’t a bunch of cuddly, loving guys, but there was kindness in the family, even if that kindness was sharp and pointed and tough, at least I knew my soldiers had my back.

  This girl looked like she was lost in the wilderness without a guide.

  “Because you’re pregnant with my baby,” I said. “And because it’s the right thing to do. Goodnight, Ash. Get some sleep.” I shut the door and left her there to think about it.

  Maybe she’d see that her family and that piece of shit Stuart weren’t worth her time. Maybe the baby would tip her in the right direction and she’d stay here with me. We could have a life, start a family, do all that shit.

  Of course, that was wishful thinking.

  The Adamsons would never let her go. Her father and mother would burn my house down before they let their precious daughter move in with me. They were rich and well connected, and they’d be a real fucking problem if they wanted to be.

  And that guy Stuart. He was a weak little bitch, but he’d give me trouble in other ways.

  Despite all that, I didn’t care. I wanted Ash, and I was going to have her and my baby, even if it wrecked my life and ruined my world, I’d have what was mine.

  3

  Ash

  Showing up at Gian’s house was obviously the most insane thing I could possibly do, but when I saw those little blue lines, I knew I had to talk to him.

  The father of my child.

  My parents were going to murder me. I think they were literally going to murder me for being pregnant, especially pregnant by a guy like Gian. To them, men like Gian were the help and nothing more than servants and people that did hard manual labor for them. Getting pregnant by a gangster, by a guy that looked like Gian, that was about the worst thing I could possibly ever do.

  They were going to hate me.

  And Stuart. God, Stuart. I didn’t really care what he thought of me, but he was going to be livid. I was afraid of what he’d do to me and my family once he learned that his precious little virginal Ash wasn’t as pure as he’d hoped.

  Fuck him. Fuck them all.

  I woke up with light streaming in through the window. I felt groggy and heavy, like I’d been crying all night. The pillow was stained with tears and eye makeup and I sat at the foot of the bed staring at the floor. The room was strange, empty and quiet, and I felt like I was in a whole different world. I remembered the way Gian touched my back, his soothing voice, his earnest stare.

  I wondered what he was doing with me here. A man like him couldn’t possibly want anything to do with a baby.

  He hadn’t come out and told me in so many words that he didn’t want me around. In fact, it felt like he didn’t want me to leave, but that couldn’t be right. He was a mobster, and a baby wasn’t going to make his life any easier, and yet when he looked at me last night, it was like he saw me for the first time, like he really wanted to reach past all the layers of our lives and see the real me lurking down below my past and my future.

  I got out of bed, still wearing the clothes I had on the night before. The door locked like he promised, but I still didn’t trust him enough to strip down and sleep without my pants on or something. I slipped out into the hall and padded softly down the steps.

  He on the couch drinking coffee. ESPN was on the TV though the sound was on mute. He had a laptop open and he was looking at something, and I paused in the hallway, staring with my mouth hanging slightly open. I started chewing on my thumb, which was a habit my mother literally beat out of me when I was a little girl, something I hadn’t done in forever.

  He was shirtless, and his muscular torso practically glistened in the morning light. I realized he’d been working out—free weights were stacked on the floor beside the couch. Light came in through the front and I hovered there on the verge of saying something when he looked up and smiled.

  His handsome face lit up and it felt like my breath was sucked from my throat. I couldn’t remember a time when anyone looked at me like that, like he was happy to see me, and wasn’t thinking about what he could get from me.

  That was my life. Everyone I ever met thought about what they could use me for. My parents were constantly worrying about putting me into a good marriage, and my friends all wanted a bit of my family connections and money, and even my older brother saw me as a pawn in some game.

  Gian didn’t look at me like that. He only nodded toward the kitchen. “Coffee’s in there,” he said. “Help yourself. I can make you something to eat if you want.”

  “No, thanks,” I said, and quickly got myself a mug. It was hot and good, and I lingered near the table, watching him as he shut the laptop lid and leaned back on the couch.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “Surprisingly good,” I said. “I thought I’d be up all night but I guess I was exhausted.”

  He nodded as if to himself. “Stress can do that.”

  “I guess I should thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked, grinning a bit. “For not breaking down your door?”

  “Well, yes, that too,” I said, blushing a little.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “Although I think you would’ve liked it.”

  I let out a huff and rolled my eyes. This man was such an asshole, and yet I liked his confidence. It wasn’t the kind of arrogance that came with money and years of training, but more like something natural, something earned. It was the easy, carefree attitude of a man that was very much at home in himself, and happy with what he was and what he could do.

  The men in my life weren’t like that at all. Stuart was as far from that as possible. Stuart spent every waking moment comparing himself to everyone else around him and wondering if he was as good as them. He thought about money as a status symbol, and was obsessed with accumulating as much as possible. My father was like that, my mother and brother and friends. It was all obsessing and worrying and status-seeking.

  Not Gian though. He seemed utterly self-possessed, and it was refreshing.

  “I just mean, thanks for letting me stay,” I said. “I think I needed it. A little time away from my family.”

  He nodded at the table. “Sit down,” he said.

  I listened for some reason. He got up and joined me, sitting across the table. I felt like we were at some kind of business meeting, or maybe a job interview. He leaned toward me, muscular arms bulging, which wasn’t very professional at all but at least I didn’t mind the view.

  “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I genuinely don’t know,” I said. “I guess I have to tell my family. From there, I don’t know what’ll happen.”

  He nodded slowly. “Have you thought your options?” he asked.

  I gripped the mug hard and clenched my jaw. “I’m keeping the baby, if that’s what you mean.” I looked up, ready to chew him out for even hinting at taking such an extreme measure—but stopped myself. He seemed surprised and he was shaking his head.

  “Absolutely not,” he said
. “That’s not what I meant. Not even close.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, surprised at the vehemence in his tone.

  “I meant, have you thought about not going back home?” he asked, eyes liquid fire. He leaned closer. “I’m the father of that baby. I could take care of you both.”

  I stared back at him and for one brief, wild moment, I let myself think about my life if I took him up on that offer. I’d be a mob wife, and he’d be my prince, and maybe I’d be happy. I’d certainly walk away from high society and I’d never have to see Stuart’s abusive, simpering face again.

  And yet that was a fantasy. “I can’t do that,” I said. “You don’t understand.”

  “I think I do,” he said. “You’re nobody’s property. If you want to stay with me—”

  “You’re a stranger,” I said, interrupting him. “We had one night together. It was one very good night but that’s not something we can possibly base an entire life on.”

  “It’s my baby,” he said, and he sounded almost angry. “I don’t want my child raised by a man like Stuart.”

  I grimaced slightly and tapped my fingers on the mug. “It doesn’t have to be like that,” I said. “We can come up with another solution. You can have rights—”

  “Fuck rights,” he said, and I leaned back, surprised. I caught a glimpse of the mafia animal beneath that handsome and patient exterior. It was dark and simmered down below. “I want my baby and I want you. Stay here and I’ll prove it.”

  I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. He really was beautiful in a way I didn’t fully understand, and his simple view of the world was tempting. I really did want to listen and walk away from all my responsibilities to my family, get away from Stuart and our future marriage, but I knew it could never happen.

  “Even if I wanted that,” I said softly, “which I don’t, but even if I did, my family would never let it happen.”

  “We’ll deal with them,” he said. “You’re an adult. They can’t force you away from me.”

  “You’d be surprised.” I gave him a sad, twisted smile. I felt like I was torn into pieces. “It’s a kind offer, but we don’t know each other.”