Requiem of Sin - A Mafia Romance
I walked into the wrong hotel room...
To a naked man fresh out of the shower.
Now, I'm pregnant with his baby.
I should've left as soon as I saw him.
He was too beautiful to be real.
I got halfway to the door...
And then he saw exactly what I was trying to hide.
"Who hurt you?" he said when he glimpsed the bruises. "Let me fix it."
I should've said no.
But honestly? I deserve a little luck from the universe.
And if it wants to provide that luck in the form of a gorgeous, six-foot angel of darkness...
Well, I won't turn my nose up at that.
But nothing in this life comes without strings attached.
My angel gives me a night from heaven...
When morning comes, though, he turns into a devil.
And not just any devil.
This devil knows where I'm from.
Who I am.
What I've done.
And he's determined to make me pay for all of it.
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Chapter 4
DEMYEN
It's a busy night-as it should be, given that it's Friday. Payday for the rank-and-file means the slots are fuller and the money is flowing from their hands to the machines to my pocket. Just the way I like it.
"Mr. Zakrevsky."
"Good evening, Mr. Zakrevsky."
"Good evening, sir."
My name fills the air as I meander through the casino. My payroll is rife with people in every line of work imaginable. Not just escorts, but cocktail waitresses, bartenders, attendants, concierges, and the like. People who know better than to ask questions.
People who have nothing to do with the Zakrevsky Bratva.
"What can I start you off with tonight, Mr. Zakrevsky?" The bartender, Mike, flashes me a genuine smile and preps a tumbler with ice. He already knows what I'm about to order, but he always gives me the chance to surprise him.
I don't. "Bourbon. On the rocks. Make it a double."
The drink is already in my hand before I finish the sentence.
Bambi scrunches her freckled nose as I toss it back and savor the syrupy burn down my throat. "I'll take mine neat," she tells Mike. "Room temp. Like a normal person."
I chuckle and set the empty tumbler down. "Judge me all you want. We live in a fucking desert. Ice is a blessing."
As I wait for her to finish her drink, I take the moment to lean back and scan the room. I'm not looking for anything or anyone in particular. Sometimes, it's just nice to enjoy the sights and sounds of the empire I rule over.
The same empire that should have been my brother's.
We're about to leave the bar and head for the office suite when a woman's voice reaches my ears. "... No, thanks. Really."
It's the way her words tremble that pulls my attention.
"C'mon, baby." Some guy in a dark leather jacket with too much gel in his hair rubs her waist as she tries to slide off the stool. When she leans away, his fingers tighten. "I got a room upstairs. We can have a real nice time-"
She musters a quivering smile and tries to maneuver from his grasp. "Really. It's okay. I'm good." "But I bought you that drink!"
"I didn't ask you to." There's fear in her eyes, but she's trying so hard to be polite.
The bartender starts to move in their direction, but I give him a subtle signal to back down.
I'll handle this.
Bambi sits back and orders another drink, this time something pink with a fancy straw. She knows how I operate. She's ready to enjoy the show.
"Good evening." I saunter up to the tangled pair, my most brilliant host's smile plastered on my face. "How are you two doing tonight?"
"We're fine, man. Everything's fine." The man waves me off with an irritated flick of his hand.
I loft a brow. "Is it?" My gaze slides to the woman. She looks shaken, but she forces a smile of her own.
"I was just leaving," she mumbles, grabbing her clutch.
"Please-stay." I gesture to her barstool but still give her wide enough berth to run if she feels the need. She doesn't know who I am, but her eyes do a quick once-over and something eases just a bit in her posture.
Before she does decide to run, I gesture for the bartender. "Mike."
He slides over, his face serious even as his eyes glint with mischief. We love this game. "Yeah, boss?" "What is this beautiful young lady drinking?"
Mike cocks his head at the empty glass on the countertop. "Well rum and coke."
I click my tongue in mock admonishment. "Oh, no, no, no. We can do better than that."
The gropey man huffs and holds a hand up to interrupt me, but I ignore it. Right now, he doesn't exist. And when I do decide to turn my attention to him, he'll long for the days when I didn't know him from a fucking hole in the ground.
I lean against the counter and focus my attention on the woman. "What's your poison? Anything under the sun. Name it and it's yours."
"Listen, buddy-" The man grabs my arm. And then he yelps when he's immediately ripped away by my security.
I stay focused on the woman. She blushes and settles back onto the stool. She is pretty, I'll give her that. Definitely a tourist, and given the tan line on her ring finger, I'd guess a recent divorcee.
"Um, I don't know..." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. The ends are frayed and her roots haven't been touched in months. It doesn't take long for me to piece together the story of someone scrimping by just to survive an ordeal. This is probably her one chance at a break before she's back to cold, hard reality. "Vodka? Maybe?"
My smile broadens. "Have you ever tasted Russo-Baltique vodka?"
The man stiffens behind me. He instantly stops struggling with my guards when he hears my native accent slip out.
She blushes more and shakes her head. "Hell no. That stuff is... No, safe to say I have never, ever tried million-dollar vodka. As you can tell, my luck here hasn't been that great."
I nod to Mike, who is already pouring a shot glass from the diamond-encrusted bottle we keep in the refrigerated safe under the bar.
"Are... are you serious?" she balks.
I nod. "On the house."
Mike slides me another shot glass, and I hold it up for her to clink. "To new beginnings."
Again, her eyes widen, but she tosses it back at the same time I do. We both hiss at the afterburn. It's like drinking glacier water.
I glance over to Bambi. She's wearing her amused smile. "Let's get our beautiful guest set up with some VIP treatment, hm?"
"On it." Bambi taps a few things on her phone, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Want me to include The Celestial?"
"Absolutely."
"Done."
It's not even a full minute before one of our concierges appears at the woman's elbow. He offers her a warm smile and a slight bow. "If you'll come with me, madam?"
She glances between the three of us, then settles her perplexed stare on me. "What's going on?"
I set my shot glass back on the counter. "I'm guessing your luck hasn't been great for a while. That's why you came out here, isn't it?"
Her eyes dart down and away. She nods mutely.
"Well, then, time for a change." I straighten my jacket, give her one final nod, then turn to deal with the other loose end.
Behind me, the concierge escorts the woman down a nearby side hall toward the spa. When she's out of sight, I signal for security to bring the man along.
He and I are going in a slightly different direction.
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9.6
In the two years after I married Daniel Carter, my private photos had gone viral nine times, and Daniel had been taken into custody ten times.
Because every time his mistress, Emily Morgan, was unhappy, she would leak my private photos all over the internet.
I, Claire Parker, never let it slide. I reported every shady business Daniel was involved in and personally sent him behind bars.
That lasted until an unexpected kidnapping. I took a bullet for him, one aimed straight at his heart, and he shielded me beneath his body, taking the brunt of the explosion for me.
After we survived, the man who had always been so cold-blooded knelt before me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
"Honey, let's leave the drama behind. I just want a peaceful life with you."
Right in front of me, he ordered his men to send his mistress out of Northhaven and never let her appear before him again.
In the third year after we reconciled, I carried my eight-month pregnant belly and brought him lunch.
But on the way there, I was hit by a car. The hospital issued three critical condition notices, yet they still could not save the baby.
Daniel rushed over, but he did not even spare me a glance. Instead, he pulled the woman who had hit me and her child into his arms, soothing her in a low voice.
"Don't be scared. I'll protect you and the child."
Only then did I realize that the woman who had hit me was the very mistress he had sent away three years ago.
When I demanded an explanation, Daniel brushed it off as if it were nothing. "She didn't do it on purpose. Don't take it out on her and her son. You can have a baby another time."
At that moment, I finally understood. They had gotten back together long ago.
I looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry, this will never happen again."
8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
8.7
I make my living binding monsters to their promises. But Silas Malphas is the one monster I never should have touched.
As a Thread-Binder, I can see the glowing, invisible strings of loyalty, debt, and lies connecting everyone in the city's supernatural underworld. It makes me the ultimate contract lawyer-and the perfect infiltrator.
My mission is simple: secure a job in the inner circle of the House of Malphas, the city's most ruthless monster syndicate, and steal the Primal Ledger from their lethal heir.
Silas Malphas commands the shadows themselves. He is arrogant, dominant, and terrifyingly elegant. But the most dangerous thing about him isn't his power-it's that when I look at him, I see *nothing*. He is a void in the magical spectrum. No debts. No loyalties. He is completely unreadable.
I was supposed to betray him. But as I am dragged deeper into his golden cage of high-stakes negotiations and blood-soaked boardroom politics, the lines between my mission and my dark attraction to the Beast begin to blur.
When a rival faction launches a deadly coup and my cover is blown, I am left with a terrifying choice. To survive the night, I must forge a blood-oath contract with the very monster I was sent to destroy.
I'm no longer just his lawyer. I'm bound to the Beast.
8.8
I am the best esports jungler in the league, but I've been hiding a severe wrist injury just to keep my team alive in the semifinals.
Right in the middle of the crucial tie-breaker game, our mid-laner deliberately walked into the enemy team and died without casting a single defensive spell.
He was match-fixing for offshore betting sites, throwing away our entire season for a massive payout.
Because of his betrayal, we had to sub in two terrified rookies, and we were absolutely slaughtered. The stadium crowd booed us out of the arena. The internet exploded with pure vitriol, trending hashtags calling me a washed-up fraud who hid on the bench to save my own stats. The media demanded I retire immediately. My physical therapist gave me a grim ultimatum: my shredded nerves only allow me four hours of playtime a day before my right hand completely locks up.
I destroyed my own body for this team, only to be sold out by a coward and crucified by the very fans I bled for. Why should my legacy end in total disgrace because of someone else's greed?
I refuse to step down. I forced the traitor out, ignored management's safe roster choices, and locked my eyes on the most toxic, universally hated streamer on the platform.
"He's a walking PR nightmare," my coach warned.
I don't care. He is an arrogant, unhinged killer in the game, and I am going to make him mine.
8.2
At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south.
But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband.
In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family-a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire.
His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach.
"We're terminating this complication," she said coldly.
As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.
8.6
After being rejected by her beta husband, who humiliated and rejected her Luna's position with his true mate right after taking over the pack, Cassandra knew she needed to come out of this marriage to save her dignity. For that, she chose to seek the help of the strongest alpha in return for training his female soldiers. She entered into a contract in return for help, but who would've known this contract with the most dangerous alpha would be the biggest sin of her life, questioning her morals? "When you are in my pack, you need to smell like one of ours," Alpha Callisto whispered before pushing her against the wall with his body pressing hard into her. "But Alpha, that wasn't the part of the deal!!" Cassandra squealed, her breathing heavy in nervousness. How could he think of doing something like this to a married woman? "Well, poor you, I forgot to mention I don't follow the rules," He said before biting into her neck, right beside her mark. Will Cassandra get back her pack with the help of this sinister alpha, utterly unaware that he was the same alpha she slept with all those years ago? Will the alpha help her, or would she just be tortured in his sinful ways because of the way she stole not only his virginity but his sense of smell, too?