Bad Boy
Valetti Crime Family (A Dark Mafia Romance)
Willow Winters
Contents
Copyright
Join My Naughty List
Blurb
Title Page
1. Anthony
2. Catherine
3. Catherine
4. Anthony
5. Catherine
6. Anthony
7. Catherine
8. Anthony
9. Catherine
10. Anthony
11. Catherine
12. Anthony
13. Catherine
14. Catherine
15. Catherine
16. Anthony
17. Anthony
18. Catherine
19. Catherine
20. Anthony
21. Anthony
22. Anthony
23. Catherine
24. Anthony
25. Anthony
26. Catherine
27. Anthony
28. Catherine
29. Anthony
30. Anthony
31. Catherine
32. Catherine
33. Anthony
Epilogue
Thank you for reading Bad Boy
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
34. Three weeks earlier
35. Tonya
36. Tommy
37. Tonya
38. Tommy
39. Tonya
40. Tommy
41. Tonya
42. Tommy
43. Tonya
44. Tommy
45. Tonya
46. Tommy
47. Tommy
48. Tonya
49. Tommy
50. Tommy
51. Tommy
52. Tonya
53. Tonya
54. Tonya
55. Tonya
56. Tommy
57. Tonya
58. Tonya
59. Tonya
60. Tommy
61. Tonya
Epilogue
About the Author
Check out the first book in the series
Dirty Dom
Blurb
Prologue
Join My Naughty List
Copyright
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations within critical reviews and otherwise as permitted by copyright law.
NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental. All characters in this story are 18 or older.
Copyright © 2016, Willow Winters Publishing. All rights reserved.
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Blurb
Bad Boy
Willow Winters
They thought I’d do my job. They thought I’d kill her. They thought wrong.
I’m a dangerous man. It only takes one panty-dropping, mouth-watering look to know it. You may be fooled by my good looks and charm.
But my eyes give it away.
I’m the hitman for the Valetti familia, and I’m f*cking good at it. They want men to talk, and I make them talk. They want men gone--bang, it’s done. It’s as simple as that.
Until her.
She’s on my list, but I f*cking want her. On her knees and submitting to my every command.
I’ll give her a simple choice — die, or be mine.
I’ve always wanted this. Now that I have the chance, I’m taking it.
I can fulfill those fantasies I know she has. I’m going to make her beg for it.
This is a standalone, full-length mafia romance with a filthy-mouthed, possessive bad boy. Dark mafia themes throughout. Guaranteed HEA.
Bad Boy
Willow Winters
Anthony
I stare at the picture from the envelope and feel so damn conflicted. I crumple the edges in my hand, not knowing if I really wanna go through with this. My eyes travel along each feature of her face, pausing to admire her large, brown eyes and long, thick lashes. She has gorgeous full lips I want to bite, but also see wrapped around my cock. Her nails are done in a classic shade of red, and her light brown hair hangs over her shoulders in loose curls. Her breasts peek out just above the neckline of her flowing blouse. I wish I could slowly strip her out of those clothes. But I can’t. She’s not mine. Even worse, I’m supposed to kill her.
I shove the slip of paper back into the envelope containing the other photos, those hits I couldn’t give two shits about. They're for assholes who have it coming to them. One stole and ran in order to keep up with his addiction. You don’t steal from a mob boss and think you can get away with it. The second killed a made man. He knows it’s coming. Neither are doing a good job of hiding. They’ll be easy hits.
I take another swig from my beer and debate on taking the sheet back out. But I have her face memorized already. I want her. More than that, I want to break her. My thoughts are depraved, and I know it. I think back to the last chick I had. She liked to play. But that’s all it was to her. Play. I want the real thing. I want to earn a woman’s submission, earn her desire to please me through training. So far, it’s always been pretend. I’ve never had an opportunity like this. But it’s wrong. It’s so fucked up and wrong.
But then again, so am I.
I carve up assholes and kill them for a living. The torturing and their screams don't affect me in the least.
This broad has it coming to her, even if she doesn’t know it. She probably thought she was doing the right thing by going to the cops. She probably thinks she's safe in the witness protection program. She’s not. She didn’t know what she was doing, and now it’s my responsibility to make her disappear. She cost the Cassano familia a lot of money, but more than anything, they lost face. The fucker she was involved with doesn’t care that she’s on a hit list. He’s just pissed she ratted on them, even if the charges didn’t stick.
Killing her is purely about their pride and the deal they lost.
I grind my teeth and slowly peel back the label on my beer bottle. I have to be delicate so it doesn’t tear apart. Patience. I need patience. With everything I do, I need patience.
I’ve been looking into her, and I know she’d fit the part. Poor girl didn’t know what she was getting herself into when she started fucking around with a member of the Cassanos. She's a sweet little thin
g who thought she’d like a taste of the more dangerous things in life. I can give her more than a taste though. I can give her exactly what she was looking for and fulfill those fantasies I know she has. And she can give me what I’ve always wanted.
I spied on her again last night. She was reading one of her books, and I watched as it turned her on. Of course she had no idea, but I was right fucking there. The only thing separating us was a brick wall. With her window open, I clearly heard all those soft moans coming from her lips. I had to know what she was reading, so I snuck in and took a look around.
I Googled that book the second I got home. Her own dark desires sealed her fate.
She has deviant fantasies just like me. She’s fucking perfect.
“Anthony, you wanna talk now?” I hear Vince ask as he pulls up the stool to my right. I messaged him earlier. I place my bottle on the bar and push it to one side as the bartender slides Vince his usual Jack.
I lean back a bit and tap my knuckles on the bar before facing him. Vince is a ruthless fucker, and he doesn’t take any shit. He’s also my cousin, so I feel safe with him. But this is the mob, and he’s the Don. I’m never that safe.
“It’s about the hits we got in,” I tell him in a low enough voice that no one else present is going to hear. Not that it matters. It’s our bar, and we know everyone in here.
“You need help? Tommy’s not enough?” he asks, cocking a brow. Tommy’s my brother, and he's also my second-in-command. Technically we’re both contractors for the familia. We only do hits, and we don’t bother with that other bullshit.
“No,” I say with certitude. I never need help. Hits are easy for me, in addition to being good money.
He takes a sip and licks his lips. “What’s the problem, then?” he asks.
“There’s one that I’d rather not do,” I tell him.
“Why’s that?” he asks, setting the glass down to face me with his shoulders squared. He’s in business mode. Right now he’s not a friend, and he's not my cousin. Right now he’s the boss.
“I want to make them an offer instead,” I explain.
His brow furrows as he replies. “I’m listening.”
“One’s a woman.” His eyes flash with sympathy. None of us like taking women out. It’s something that rarely happens, but when it does, we don’t like it. We make it quick and painless for them. Maybe it’s sexist, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ve tortured a lot of men for information. Never a woman though. That’s where I draw the line.
“They won’t let her walk.” His words are said with finality.
“I want to ask if they’d accept a substantial monetary offer from me to buy her.” I feel my blood rushing faster and hotter. No one knows about my perversions. I’m sure they can all guess. But I’ve never said a thing about my tastes, and they’ve never asked. They keep me on the edge of the social circle for the most part. I’m fine with that. It’s better that way.
“Buy her, and then what?” he asks with his eyes trained on the back of the bar.
“I want to keep her.” My voice is low, but steady.
“As a pet? As a slave?” Equal amounts of disgust and disbelief color his voice, and it almost makes me regret letting my dark desire come to light. Almost. But I want this. I want it more than anything.
“If that’s what you want to call it.” The determination in my voice rings out clearly. I’m sure my eyes look dark and absolute. I’m not ashamed of what I want. But I’m not willing to risk my position in the familia over it. Not yet, anyway. It’s been a week since I was given the hit. Each day my obsession with her has only grown. I cleared out a room for her already. In my head, she’s already mine. This is just a formality. But to Vince, this is a twisted sickness.
He looks me dead in the eyes as he begins, “After that shit Ava went through--”
I stop him right there and say, “This would be nothing like that.” My voice is louder than it should be, and the dark stare he gives me in return makes that clear. I settle in my seat and continue with a respectful tone. “I would never hurt her. Not like that. Not beyond any pain she didn’t want.”
“Ava said some days she would've rather been dead than been in that position.” My heart hurts for her. Ava’s a comare to a member of our familia. To Kane. He’s a good man. He saved her, and in a lot of ways, she saved him as well.
She went through a lot of shit. Her captors loved hurting her and humiliating her. She’s a strong woman to have survived all that. That’s not what I want though. The idea of doing that to a woman makes me angry. I’d never do that. Never.
“It’s not the same.” I reach for my beer and turn away from him slightly. He doesn’t understand. I didn’t expect him to anyway. “She’s already dead. She’s on their list.” I take a drink and then look back to him. “I’ll give her a choice.”
“Death, or your slave?” he asks with a humorless grunt. I know to him she'd be seen as a slave, as a pet. That’s fine. To me, she’d be mine. Nothing else but mine.
“Better than death with no escape,” I respond flatly.
He takes a sip of Jack, looks at me, and says, “It may not be to her. You want to hurt her and abuse her, rather than carrying out an order that would give her a quick death.”
“No. I don’t want that. It’s not like that.” He doesn’t fucking get it. I torture and kill people for a living. I can see how he thinks that’s what I’d do to her. But I wouldn’t. I don’t know how much I should explain. To be honest, I don’t fucking feel like explaining anything.
My blood heats with anger, but then I have a pang of worry and think, What if she doesn’t get it either? I brush my doubt aside. I’ll show her. I’ll have to teach her how perfect it would be to be mine. I’ve looked into her. I’ve been obsessed with learning everything about her. She’s smart. She’ll learn. She’ll catch on quick that I’ll be a good master to her. And she’s familiar with the concepts. She’s read enough to have an idea of what I want from her. “Think of it as hardcore BDSM,” I say. I look at him from the corner of my eye, but it’s not convincing him.
I want this too fucking badly to let this opportunity pass me by. And after thinking about all the ways she'd calm the beast in me, I don't know if I could actually go through with killing her.
Vince shakes his head and asks, “What are you looking to get from me, Anthony?”
“I want your permission to offer them a deal for her.” I need my proposal presented to the Cassano boss. He’s the one who ordered the hit. A number of other bosses come to us for hits, and we take care of their messes. For the right price, anyway. I don’t want to piss anyone off, and I want this to be a clean deal. Vince is quiet for a long time as he considers.
“You won’t hurt her?” he finally asks.
“I won’t. It’s about something else for me.” Control. Desire. Submission. I want it all from her, but not her pain.
He nods his head once and I take that as an agreement. I can’t help that an asymmetric smile grows on my face. Step one is done. Now to contact the other mob head. He’ll be easy to convince, I’m sure. He didn’t give a fuck about the soldiers she gave up. He cares about the deal he lost, and the money that went with it.
I down the rest of my beer and nod a goodbye to Vince. I don’t have anything else to say to him. I’d rather he forget this conversation ever happened.
As I turn to leave, eager to clear out the cell I've prepared for her and put the finishing touches in her room, he turns in his seat and grabs my arm to stop me.
“What are you going to do if she chooses death?” he asks as I turn to face him. The idea of her dying makes my heart stop in my chest.
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” Chills run down my body at the thought of those beautiful eyes staring into mine, begging me for death. That’s not what I want. I know she’ll want this when I show her how good it can be.
“It might,” he says, looking at me with sympathy in his eyes. I don’t want his sympathy.
She’s going to fucking love what I do to her. But I’ll have to break her first.
Catherine
3 weeks later
I tip the edge of the porcelain cup to my lips and close my eyes as the perfect temperature of tea spills into my mouth. My eyes close and the comfort of routine washes through me. But the feeling is only temporary. That’s when I register the change. Something feels off. I remember thinking that earlier as well. It’s too quiet. Crickets and other creatures of the night always provide soothing background noise for my evening tea. But tonight the noises are muted. It's as though something’s scared them away.
I always drink chamomile tea to help me relax and sleep. My normal routine is to sit on the porch while I finish a cup, followed by a melatonin pill. I’ve had issues falling asleep for the last year or so. Ever since my life completely changed. Staying asleep is never an issue, but falling asleep is difficult. In the year that I’ve been here, I’ve done the same thing every night.
Before my life changed forever, I didn’t have a care in the world and slept like a baby every night. I did whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Then I hit my mid-twenties and decided I needed to sow my wild oats. My mother had just passed away. She was older when she had me, and she died peacefully--as peacefully as you can with cancer--but it was hard on me and I didn’t want to face the pain. To say I engaged in high-risk behavior would be putting it lightly. Then I fell in love. Or rather, what I thought was love with an asshole named Lorenzo Passanova. I called him my Cassanova because I was a fucking idiot, high on lust and loving the risk that came with being with a man like him.
I thought being with him would be just like the books I love to read. Like I'd be living out the plot of a romance novel. I was a fucking idiot.
Bad Boy: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) Page 1
