THE GAMBLER: a Mafia Romance (Bad Romance Book 3)

by Shanna Bell

  Contents

  Title

  Synopsis

  Chapter 1 Tess

  Chapter 2 Tess

  Chapter 3 Luca

  Chapter 4 Luca

  Chapter 5 Tess

  Chapter 6 Luca

  Chapter 7 Tess

  Chapter 8 Luca

  Chapter 9 Tess

  Chapter 10 Luca

  Chapter 11 Tess

  Chapter 12 Luca

  Chapter 13 Tess

  Chapter 14 Luca

  Chapter 15 Tess

  Chapter 16 Luca

  Chapter 17 Luca

  Chapter 18 Tess

  Chapter 19 Tess

  Chapter 20 Luca

  Chapter 21 Tess

  EPILOGUE

  Plea from the author

  Next book in the series

  Sneak peek "The players"

  Want to follow me?

  BAD ROMANCE:

  THE GAMBLER

  SHANNA BELL

  Copyright © 2018 by Shanna Bell

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All trademarks are the property of their owners.

  Copy editor : Jenn Wood

  Cover by : Les

  HIM...

  I will get out from behind these bars.

  I’ll make those who put me here pay.

  All I need is her; the lock to my cell.

  HER...

  I’m a geeky hacktivist; the internet is my oyster.

  But that’s not going to save my family.

  I need him; a Kraken to beat a shark.

  Game on...

  CHAPTER 1

  TESS

  Being blackmailed by a loan shark sucked.

  As Tess cracked the engine of her vintage car, she thought about how it had been three glorious months since she’d last heard from her deadbeat father.

  Then, three days ago, the dreaded phone call happened. As usual, Rufus was broke and in trouble. Every once in a blue moon, he popped back into her life, and the moment was always followed by a disaster. Though this time, he had outdone even himself—getting kidnapped by a loan shark and giving his daughter up as collateral. Like she was his private bank or something.

  She didn’t know the specifics of his deal gone awry, nor did she really care. All she knew was the guy who took Rufus’ phone from him scared the crap out of her. Irish Mick’s assignment had been simple: get him ten thousand dollars within forty-eight hours or her father would end up in some ditch. So was the hazardous life of a con artist, a man who lived by one rule only—get rich fast or die trying.

  Tess couldn’t remember the number of times she almost ended up in a ditch, or behind bars, right beside Rufus. Actually, she had an eidetic memory, so she could remember every time—she just chose not to. She had actually taken computer courses back in the day just to learn how to digitally remove her juvenile rap sheet. Little had she known she would get addicted to said digital world, which was so much easier to live in than the real one. Numbers made sense; people, not so much.

  Now, at twenty-seven, she found it easy to rule the universe from behind a computer screen. As a hacker, or an Elf lord, she could practically do and be anything she wanted. What she never did was bring the online world into her real life, though. That is, until her father dragged her back into the murkier waters of hacking for evil, once again.

  So here she was, driving at night in one of San Francisco’s shady neighborhoods with a bag of money. Of course, that was when her old Beetle decided to die on her. Smoke started filling her windshield.

  With a sigh, she got out and popped open the hood. She looked at the engine. The engine stared back at her. Nope, she wasn’t even going to pretend to know anything about a car’s mechanics. When it came to hardware, she might as well be a ninety-year-old holding a smartphone for the first time. Crap. It was almost ten o’clock and she still had two blocks to go to meet this Mick guy.

  “Car trouble?”

  She snapped her head around and spotted a guy leaning against the wall of the copy shop her car had died next to. With the way her life was going lately, the guy was probably a closet axe murderer.

  Raised by her grandfather, who believed in the radical honesty principle, Tess found it hard to lie. Often, she just ignored a question or a person altogether. Most people got the hint.

  “Want me to take a look at that?”

  This one obviously didn’t. Sigh. “Nope, I’ve got this.”

  Creepy eyes kept staring at her legs and started to make her feel uncomfortable. It was a hot summer night and she liked her cut-off jeans. Didn’t mean she liked to be ogled.

  “Sure you don’t want me to take a look underneath the hood?”

  Oh, she was so sure. “Positive.”

  “Maybe I can give you a ride.”

  An image of rope, duct tape, and a shovel popped into her mind.

  She gave him her back and pondered what to do. The meeting point with Mick the Dick wasn’t far away. He had mentioned a certain fast food joint. She took her duffel bag out of the car and started walking.

  “Hey! You feeling too good to talk to me?”

  Actually, yes, I am.

  Ignoring the guy yelling behind her, she picked up her pace. Then she heard feet following. Now, she really started running. If they would have been in her world, she would have so kicked his ass. Unfortunately, the streets of San Fran, nor the characters roaming it, didn’t look anything like World of Warcraft. She didn’t carry a sword to defend herself against an enemy, and certainly no health potion to bring her back to life if that creep got to her. Aside from the occasional hobo, there was no one there. No one to alert the police if she got robbed, mugged, or killed. She was so going to kick Rufus’ ass for this.

  The bright green neon sign with the clover across the street was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She had just run in front of another car when something caught her ponytail.

  She turned around, ready to fend off her attacker, when he pushed her against a garage door. The breath left her body, making her head spin. Her arms settled around the bag, not planning to give it up without a fight.

  A hand wrapped around her throat, and she stared into dilated pupils, then traveled down to see rotten teeth.

  “Great, you’re as high as a kite.” And he smelled like she imagined an orc would. Really bad.

  “Now there, pretty purple cat, why you running away?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? You look like a crazy junkie. Now, get away from me.”

  He fisted her curls, twisted them around his wrist, making her skull hurt. “No, what I’m going to do is fuck you and make you purr. You’re a wild one, aren’t you? With your purple hair, tight little shorts, and these leather cuffs.” His hand went to one of her spiked leather wrist bands. “I bet you like it rough.”

  Dammit. The BDSM scene had ruined any leather gear with spikes on them.

  “Those are just for decoration. It was a gift.”

  From my crazy grandfather. Oh, there’s also a chip in them so he can track me down when shit hits the fan.

  Please don’t let shit hit the fan.

  “Let her go, Bane. She’s here for me.”

  Bane turned away from her and she peeked over his shoulder. Irish accent, red tracksuit, and sounding familiar. Yep, this must be the guy she spo
ke to the other night.

  Saved by the loan shark. Wonderful.

  “She don’t look like one of the girls from your stable,” Bane said, a snarl in his voice.

  Tess gritted her teeth. Now she was being compared to a prostitute. Could this night get any worse?

  Mick looked her up and down. “That’s because she ain’t.” He chuckled. “When Rufus told me you were a computer genius, I expected big glasses and pimples.” His eyes roamed over her body, resting on her unicorn top declaring that a unicorn didn’t believe in humans. “I didn’t know you were pretty. We could certainly find you a clientele.”

  Keep it cool, Tess. Remember, you’re in his world now.

  “That’s really flattering, and also makes me want to vomit. No offense.” She held up her bag. “Can we please wrap this up? I got what you wanted. Where’s Rufus?”

  Bane’s head snapped back to her bag.

  She couldn’t help but give him a grin. “I bet you regret going for me now instead of my bag, don’t you?” She rubbed it in.

  He growled, but since Mick was apparently top dog compared to Bane’s junkie ass, he let her go. After one last hateful look, he slithered back into the night.

  Tess handed Mick the bag. “It’s all there.” He didn’t even bother to count the money. Just peeked inside the bag, made sure it was in there, and then zipped it shut. She looked into nearby cars to spot her father. “Now, where’s Rufus?”

  Mick smiled. It wasn’t a nice one, more of a cross between a grizzly and a Sith Lord.

  “See you next week, unicorn. Make it twenty this time.”

  “What? Wait. No! That wasn’t the deal.” Tess realized she had made a monumental mistake—she paid him off too quickly. Now he believed getting him twenty grand was a walk in the park.

  He laughed right in her face, like a cartoon villain. “It is now.” Then he simply walked away with her hard stolen money.

  This clearly wasn’t going to work. Unlike what he seemed to think, internet scamming wasn’t child’s play. Not in the long run, when being caught increased every time you did it. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the means to go up against Mick by herself.

  She pulled out her phone and glanced on the app that had just copied Mick’s phone. Mick Rourke, bastard extraordinaire, had just made it on to her shit list and was about to find out you never cross a geek.

  Because what did you do when you couldn’t beat a loan shark? You brought in a Kraken.

  CHAPTER 2

  TESS

  San Quentin prison was exactly what Tess expected it to be—dark and gloomy. It sent chills through her as she passed along security and was led to a structure away from the actual prison. The place was barred with a big fence. From what she could see, it was more like a row of motel rooms stacked against each other. At the end of the row, she saw another guard leading a woman inside. Her husband, or boyfriend, was waiting for her outside, and they crashed into each other in a big hug. No hugs for her, of course. That wasn’t the reason she was here.

  Nope, she was here to enlist someone’s help in exchange for a favor. She was getting really desperate at keeping her little family together. To not knuckle under the weight of the financial mess her father had put her in. Every day, it became more and more difficult not to cross over to the Dark Side. Sure, Anakin Skywalker had turned into a freak after he succumbed to his darker side, but hey, look at the man now. He was doing just fine, roaming in a galaxy far, far away. Darth Vader never had to worry about paying rent, putting food on the table, or help pay off his father’s debts.

  It would be really easy too. All she had to do was hack into a few credit card accounts, hardly a challenge. Of course, she would pick big corporate assholes, starting with the CEO’s of Big Pharma. They wouldn’t even feel a few thousand dollars gone missing here and there. But then what? The Dark Side would lurk. Collecting digital coins could quickly get out of hand and in the end, she might get caught. She was already skimming money from too many various sources. The more she took, the bigger the chance of it no longer going undetected. Thus, landing her ass in jail. Then who would take care of her pops?

  All of this went through her head as she stood waiting in the small hallway for her prince in orange armor to show up. It didn’t take long before her mark entered the room.

  The first thing she noticed about Luciano Detta was that he wore no orange jumpsuit. He was dressed in jeans and a black wife beater. She should have known that. After all, conjugal visits were to sustain relationships between an inmate and his family, so the situation should look as normal as possible. The second thing she noticed was the impassive look on his face. He was standing in the doorway that led to a small living room. His arms were folded in front of his large chest—much larger than she’d seen from pictures—and his legs spread wide, as if he was taking a stand. He didn’t look anything like the corporate guy in a ten-thousand-dollar suit she had familiarized herself with.

  She gave him a tentative smile. “Hi, I’m Tess Gib—”

  “Don’t give a fuck. Drop your pants. Turn around. Hands and face to the wall.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t pretend like this is a fucking date. You’re not the usual crazy the twins send to me, or what I expected, but hey, whatever gets your motor running. It’s not like I got anything else to do. Now, remove your pants, and turn your ass to me.”

  Oh.

  It suddenly dawned on her that he actually expected the conjugal visit to be, well, conjugal. And judging by his words, it was a common occurrence as well. Not that she was surprised by that. He was hot, in a “bad boy with great arm muscles” kind of way. So, it was no wonder that apparently women threw themselves at him, even when he was a convict. Then again, there were women who would bang anything. Even serial killers had a prison following, after all.

  “Um, there seems to be a misunderstanding,” she started.

  He was on her in a heartbeat, pushing her up against the wall.

  His breath was hot on her cheek. “What? Not what you expected from a convict? Did you picture this to be a twisted romantic story in your head? You thought I was going to make love to you?” He laughed, sounding bitter. “This will be nothing more than a quick fuck. You got me?”

  Tess channeled her inner Princess Leia to push him away. When he noticed she wasn’t playing around, he let her go. The surprise on his face was almost comical.

  “There will be no fuck, quick or otherwise,” she stated. Why were the men in her life always prone to a quick fuck? Whatever happened to the long, hot love making sessions she read about in romance novels? “I didn’t come here for that. Not with you, a dude I barely know, and definitely not in a place that’s probably swarming with bacteria. Yuck. Also, I have a boyfriend.” Trevor may not be able to make her lady parts tingle every time—or much at all—but they were committed nonetheless.

  His eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Now you’re just sounding like Hector. You could have just asked that question without dropping an f-bomb.”

  Finally, a form of understanding dawned on his face. He folded his arms in front of his chest. “My brother sent you.”

  “Nope. I’m here all by myself. See, my father is in trouble and I want you to help him out.”

  His lopsided smirk told her he thought she was crazy. Oddly, that reaction was a common occurrence. “Sure. I’ll just break myself out and then go help you. Easy.”

  She didn’t appreciate his sarcasm, but couldn’t really blame him, as she was explaining this poorly.

  “I will provide you with documents that will get you out of here. In return, I want you to get Rufus out of the hands of a certain loan shark. Do we have a deal?”

  He slowly looked her up and down, his eyes lingering a sec on her black thermal fingerless gloves. It didn’t seem as if he saw anything he liked. She really hated that dismissive look. She almost pointed out that he’d been ready to fuck her a minute ago, but again shut down the crazy
in her head. It wasn’t like she actually wanted him to want her. Nope, there was only one thing she needed Luciano Detta to do—get rid of Mick the Dick.

  “You are going to get me out of here? Sure, I’ll bite. Do you have magic beans we can plant and then go up a beanstalk? Or maybe you’ve brought a flying carpet with you?”

  Asshole. “For a guy who’s been given a chance to get free, you are awfully sarcastic.”

  He was silent for a beat. “You have a lot of balls. Supposedly offering me the one thing I want most. So, what is it that you really want? How do you even know about me?”

  That was an easy one. “I’ve heard about you through Jazzy. She’s my bestie.” They may not be collegemates anymore, but they were still close.

  Also, I’ve been trying to get you out forever.

  But I can’t tell you why.

  His eyes narrowed. She sure was talking to Mr. Suspicious here. “If you really know my sister-in-law, then you should know she would help you if you asked her. So, why come here?”

  It was a valid question. She could have asked Jazzy for help. After all, she was married to a scary dude who had the means to put the screws to Mick.

  “I don’t want to owe anyone, or involve Jazzy in a possible dangerous situation. I’m in this mess because my father owes money to some bad people. I kind of want to break that cycle. Also, us Gibsons might not have much, but we never owe anybody anything either, as my pops would say.”

  He cocked a brow. “So, you’re here to ask me for my help to honor your dead grandfather’s way of life?”

  “My grandfather is very much alive, thank you very much. In fact, I don’t know anyone more lively than him. Or more crazy, but that’s a story for another day.”

  “That still doesn’t answer my question. Why me? How did you come up with this idea in the first place? Or stumble across evidence that could supposedly get me out of here?”