by Raven Dark
Owned by the Mafia Bad Boy (Books 1 - 4) by Raven Dark
Copyright © 2016 Raven Dark, all rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Please purchase only authorized editions of this book, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials.
Cover by MW Burt
Cover image courtesy of Canstock
Editor: Avril Stepowski
Dedication
For Avril, M.W., Suzy, and Karen.
My crew. This series is alive because of you.
Table of Contents
Book 1
1
2
3
4
5
6
Book 2
1
2
3
4
5
5
Book 3
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
Book 4
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Book 1
1
As soon as I saw him, I knew I was in trouble. I knew I never should have helped him. When I saw the suit drop his expensive leather wallet on the busy New York street, I shouldn’t have chased after him to return it to him. Should have just kept walking like the other people on the street had done. Instead, I did what I always do. I did the right thing. And I paid the price.
They say dealing with men like him always comes with a price. I didn’t think helping him would bind me to the same irrevocable rule.
The suit weaved through the throng, his quick paces so long I had to almost run to keep up with him. Panting, I clutched his wallet, excusing myself when I bumped into people on the way. Later, I would remember that he showed no such manners, just shouldered his way through the throng.
“Sir?” I shouted over the cacophony of cars honking and people chattering. “Sir, you dropped something…” I made a frustrated sound when, even with me right behind him, he didn’t seem to hear me.
I reached for the back of his immaculate looking suit, but his strides were too big and I ended up grasping at air. “Damn.”
He had to be at least six five, huge and towering over everyone around him. With that jet black suit, he was impossible to miss.
Half a block from where he’d dropped his wallet, he strode up to a sleek black limousine parked by the side of the road. A driver in a dark uniform and cap opened the back door and the man ducked inside.
Irritation pricked at me, seeing the vehicle that took up two car lengths of space at the curb. I’d figured he was wealthy by his suit, but the shining black limo with its pristine polished look and its tinted windows spoke of another level of luxury. Old anger and resentment welled up, hot and harsh. Men like him were the reason my father had to work from sunup to sundown tilling a field and milking cows instead of sitting in a plush office, living off the interest from a business that, now, another man was getting rich off of simply by owning it.
Half of me wanted to toss the wallet and walk away. I had a bus to catch in minutes, and if I missed it, I’d be late for my shift at the hospital. Again. Risking a write up was too much trouble to go through for some rich fat cat who made so much money he wouldn’t miss whatever was in the wallet, even if he did carry wads of cash. Yet some sense of honor wouldn’t allow me to give up.
I rushed for the limo. “Sir…sir, you lost something.” I panted, clutching my side.
“Miss, stay back from the vehicle.” The driver, blocky and muscled under his uniform, held out a practiced hand, keeping me at a distance. Protection radiated off him, the kind that went well beyond the job description of a simple driver.
“I…sorry. I thought he might want this back.” I held out the wallet, finally catching my breath. As a farmer’s daughter, I shouldn’t have been so out of shape, but that’s what happened when I spent more time in the halls of a hospital than working the fields with my dad. Contrary to the way TV makes it look, being a nurse isn’t usually as harried and fast-paced in real life.
“Your kindness is appreciated, miss, but you can’t get near this car. I’d be happy to return the wallet on your behalf.” The driver moved to take the wallet and I caught a glimpse of a piece, a black pistol encased in a leather holster under his vest.
It flashed through my mind to wonder who the man in the back of the limousine was. The car and the disguised protection detail said he was rich, and the suit said business man, but was he more than that? A celebrity of some sort? The kind of person who people weren’t allowed to get close to, who had to worry about kidnappers or assassination plots?
An unwilling fascination hit me, but I tamped it down. Men like him shouldn’t hold any interest for me. Not with the heartache they caused others. I nodded and was about to hand the wallet over.
“Stop. Let her over, David.” The deep, smooth voice drifted from the car through the open back window. I hadn’t even noticed the window had been rolled down. The rich, bass timbre of the voice easily penetrated the array of sounds around me, radiating with so much authority and power it seemed to infuse my blood. Heating it. Its instant affect on me was unsettling.
The driver—David—turned. “Sir, that would be highly inappropriate. I’d be glad to—”
“Stand aside, David. Now.”
His lips pressed together in a barely noticeable look of disapproval, but he stepped aside for me to pass. “Very well, sir.”
Through the window, I could see only shadows, deep blackness, giving the man’s voice a disembodied feel. Was it just me, or was he trying not to be seen? An absurd image went through my mind of a disfigured face, or some other deformity that made him want to hide in the shadows. No, that wouldn’t make sense, considering he had just been walking down the street, out in the open. He was probably just famous, trying to avoid unwanted attention. Even so, I swallowed, unable to make myself walk forward, as though I expected to encounter something monstrous when I got too close.
“Well, come here, girl. I don’t have all day.”
My heart sped up. Everything about his voice screamed power, a man accustomed to being obeyed. It had a magnetic property, compelling me to do whatever he said. I cleared my throat and stepped awkwardly forward to the window. Unable to stop my hand from shaking, I slipped my hand and the wallet through the window, into the shadows.
Fingers brushed mine, long, slightly calloused, strong. A jolt of electricity shot up my arm and I tried to pull back, but his touch lingered, and somehow I couldn’t pull my arm away.
In the instant our fingers connected, I saw the glint of gold on his index finger, a thick signet ring with a red ruby and elaborate, stylized “D” embossed on the stone. Familiarity tugged at me, but before I could consider where I knew the insignia from, I caught a glimpse of him. A flash of immaculate white shirt, tanned skin, dark hair, the shape of a masculine face, hard angles. Nothing defined, and yet what I saw was enough to awaken a sharp desire to know what this stranger looked like. The need hit me, like a mystery begging to be solved. Someone as powerful and reclusive as him must have a reason to hide, and I needed to know what that reason was.
“You went through a lot of trouble to get this to me, didn’t you?” He spoke as if the idea of such honesty baffled him.
“It wasn’t a big deal. I just did what any decent person would do.”
“Indeed.” Amusement and doubt lined his voice. “Allow me to compensate you.”
“Sir, we must be going. I’m sure this lady would prefer to—” David started.
“What is your name, girl?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw David shift, stiffening. He was too professional to show frustration, but I knew he was getting annoyed. He wasn’t the only one. The way this man called me “girl” sent indignation careening through me. The way he said it smacked of extreme arrogance, but also something else I didn’t have the words for. Something that made my stomach quiver as I imagined him commanding me to do things to him. Things no decent girl did with a man she didn’t know. My heart quickened a pace and a clenching heat started between my legs.
I should have just walked away. No way could I afford to be giving my name to this stranger. Not with the trouble always searching for my family. Except my legs wouldn’t move.
“Why do you need my name? A thanks will suffice.”
“Is that what you’re after? A thank you?” The cynicism in his voice took me aback.
“That’s not what I meant. I—”
“Give me your name.”
The harder I tried to evade his command, the weaker my body seemed to become. His magnetism was incredible. God, I had to put a face to such power, but no way would that happen when he kept to the shadows. I didn’t have the gumption to poke my head in and look.
“I’m not leaving until I have a name to go with that gorgeous face.”
Gorgeous? Twice, I tried to open my mouth, only to close it. He thought I was gorgeous? How? Mentally I tried to imagine what about me he might like. No way would he approve of my wild auburn curls, too much hair that surrounded my head in a frizz with this summer heat. Men like him probably wanted a woman they could protect, a small woman with a tiny frame they could tuck close at night, not a six-foot-tall boar of a woman who lifted bails of hay and smelled of horse. Was he making fun of me? No. I had the feeling this man didn’t say things he didn’t mean.
It didn’t matter that he was the last sort of man I could afford to attract, or that the thought of his wealth revolted me, reminding me of what my family had lost. The compliment felt like it elevated my blood temperature ten degrees. Jesus, was I so hard up for attention that Mr. Moneybags could reel me in with the same sweet words he likely said to any woman he wanted in his bed?
The sooner I gave him my name, the sooner I could get on with my day and put as much distance between him and myself as possible. “It’s Anika. My name is Anika.”
It wasn’t. Or, it wasn’t supposed to be. I was born Daniella Montrose, but we’d had to change our names when I was still a baby, and I’d grown used to using Anika Heath. Most of the time, giving the cover name didn’t bother me, except when I was signing something legal, or giving my name to someone I worried might have reason to dig into my father’s past. Why it bothered me now, I didn’t know, but as soon as I’d said it, it felt like I’d told a lie. Like I’d disobeyed this man somehow, and I had a feeling he wouldn’t react well to being lied to. An inexplicable mix of fear and excitement jolted through me at the thought, and the fear wasn’t all to do with him discovering my true identity.
“Anika. I like it.” He said it slowly, like he was savoring every syllable. My stomach did a funny dance at the thought that my name could have such an affect on him. “I’ll pay you for your honesty, Anika. Anything you desire, name it and it’s yours.”
The irony of his words wasn’t lost on me, and the guilt inside me for misleading him about my name intensified. I cleared my throat, pushing down the urge to ask him to let me see his face just for a moment.
“That’s not necessary. I have to go.” Before I could turn to leave, his hand snaked out of the window and his fingers caught the front of my shirt.
“Wait.”
The single word had the power to freeze me on the spot. Damn, his voice was like a god’s. So rich, so strong, with just a hint of something dark and dangerous. I gulped. He let go of me, but I couldn’t have moved an inch if a tornado had materialized.
“Surely there is something you want. Tell me.”
I stared. There was a strange longing in his words, as if he didn’t want me to go. Why?
Again, he shifted and I saw a hint of his masculine features, just enough to send my imagination running. I bit my lip, considering. I was taking way too much interest in a man I had no business wanting anything to do with, but I couldn’t let it go. Here was my chance to put a face to that fabulous voice, to the authority and command that already had my blood pumping crazily in my veins.
“Fine. There is something.”
“Yes?” Again, the cynicism, as if I’d proven something to him by accepting any kind of reward.
“Let…let me see your face.”
In the shadows, I swore I heard a rumble of surprise, or was it just a car on the street? What had he expected? For me to ask for money? Yes, I suppose men of his means had to be used to people trying to get what they could out of him. The thought made me surprisingly sad for him.
“Sir, I must protest,” David cut in. He put a big hand on my shoulder, clearly holding me back from getting any closer to his charge, even though I hadn’t moved. “You know what’s about to happen close to here; if anyone sees you—.”
Movement in the shadows of the car somehow gave me the impression the man inside had tensed when his driver touched me. Why? David took his hand from me a little too fast, as if he sensed the same unseen danger.
“Are you sure that’s what you want? I am one of the wealthiest men in the United States, Anika. I could give you and your family something you’d enjoy.”
I could hear the unspoken implication in his words. He could give something us poor people couldn’t hope to afford. I clenched my teeth. Suddenly, my scuffed up shoes and faded pink shirt felt threadbare and inadequate. And yet, my anger didn’t do anything for my need to see what he looked like. With any luck, he would be butt ugly, with big hairy brows and a huge nose, eliminating this infernal sense of attraction his voice alone had the power to evoke.
“I don’t want money. Please, let me see you.”
As soon as I heard the desperation in my voice, I was sure he was going to refuse just to toy with me. Instead, ignoring first David’s protests, then the driver’s attempt to open the door when it was obvious he wouldn’t win, the man in the back of the limousine pushed the door open himself. In reflex, I stepped back from the car. I’d have settled for him poking his head out of the window, but instead, he unfolded his long legs from inside and ducked out of the limo.
He straightened, standing way, way up, so far that I had to crane my neck all the way back to meet his eyes. Mine widened and my mouth dropped.
“Holy shit.”
Had I said that out loud? By the huge smile that spread over his face, I had. My face flamed in mortification and his smile got bigger.
It wasn’t just that he was huge, though his size was impressive in and of itself. Even under his custom cut night-black suit, I could see he was all muscle, with shoulders twice my own width, hands like boulders, and long legs encased in pants that looked to be made of fine satin. His feet were enormous, clad in shoes polished to a shine, and yet it was always his face that drew me back. His features looked like they’d been carved out of granite, with a strong jaw, deep eyes that were such a rich shade of hazel they were almost gold, and the sexiest mouth I’d ever seen in my life. His top lip formed two peaks, the lower lip slightly curled, giving his mouth a sensuality I couldn’t ignore. His grin made my knees wobble.
“Do you like what you see, Anika? I would have paid you a lot of money for your honesty.”
David nodded to the car. “Sir, please return to the vehicle. People are starting to stare, and the paparazzi—”
The man who held all my attention put up a hand, and David silenced. The driver was not a smal
l man, but next to him, he looked short and lanky. Strange, something gave me the impression he could nonetheless offer the protection he was hired for if the need arose, even though by the looks of him, his charge hardly appeared to need it.
“I’m not that easily impressed,” I lied. “I just wanted to see what it was you were hiding.”
Without warning, he broke the space between us in a single stride. Standing so close I could feel the heat of his enormous frame pounding into me, he slipped his fingers under my chin and held it between his thumb and forefinger, just hard enough that I couldn’t look away. The confidence, the authority in his grip made my bones turn to mush.
“I want to see you again.” It wasn’t a request. Part of me longed to tell him yes, anything he wanted, it was his. The urge to please this man was overwhelming, yet another part of me screamed to run, to stay as far away from him as I could. Men of his apparent power were dangerous to me, to my family. Besides, the urgency in him baffled me. He was looking at me like I was special, as if he couldn’t bear the idea that the moment I left would be the last time he’d ever see me.
“What? Why?”
“Because I want to spend more time looking at you, Anika. You have a problem with that?”
“You’re a very strange man. You could have any woman you want. Why would you want me?”
His dark brows winged down and his grip tightened on my chin. “We’ll discuss this unappealing habit you have of downplaying your beauty the next time we meet.” The roughness in his voice, the promise of retribution in it, ignited my blood. A low heat started in my pussy. “Meet me here tomorrow at noon.”
Was I imagining it, or was there a threat in there somewhere, a suggestion that if I didn’t show up at noon sharp, he’d find some way to make me regret it? The heat between my legs became an ache, begging for attention.
Ugh. His arrogance was infuriating, and all the more for the way it excited me. Men like him always seemed to think they could have anything they wanted on principle. When he released my chin, I put my hands on my hips.
“Before I answer that, what is your name?” He raised one dark brow in challenge, and I shrugged. “I gave you mine, it’s only fair you give me yours.”
