THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED (A dark, mafia romance)
I was sold and married off to a monster.
And on my wedding night... he tried to rape me.
But before he could, gunfire tore through the walls, blood spilled and screams filled the air.
And just like that... my husband was dead.
I thought it was over.
I was wrong. Because the men who killed him didn't save me.
They took and dragged me into a world darker than anything I had ever known and straight into the hands of a man far more dangerous.
Now I belong to him.....Bane Valak.
And in his world, there are only two choices, Obey... or Die.
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Chapter 14
The sunlight streaming through the windows of my suite felt offensive.
It was too bright, too cheerful for the way my skin crawled. I hadn't slept all night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the phantom pressure of rough fingers of that guard digging into my shoulder.
Regina had told me that all would be well and I suppose it would.
I just needed time to get over it. Besides, it all happened the previous evening.
It was a new day and I had to be strong and push through.
I was staring at my breakfast; a plate of fruit that and pancakes when a knock sounded at the door.
It wasn't the soft, rhythmic tap of Maria or Sofia or Elena that I had become accustomed to over the past few weeks.
It was a sharp, military strike.
"Miss Vancouver," the strong voice came from behind the door, "The Boss is requesting your presence in the courtyard."
My heart plummeted. Bane was the last person I ever wanted to see.
"Now?"
I asked hoping I would have time to mentally prepare myself to face him.
"Immediately."
I didn't even have time to change.
I was still in a cotton robe, my hair falling in loose, unbrushed waves.
I followed the guard down the stairs, my mind was screaming.
Did Regina tell him? She said she wouldn't...... at least, not yet.
As we neared the heavy oak doors that led to the central courtyard, I felt it.
Silence.
A thick, suffocating silence that felt heavy enough to drown any scream.
The doors opened, and I went cold.
"Oh, God," I whispered, my hand flying to my mouth.
The courtyard was lined with men.
At least forty guards.
The entirety of them were on their knees on the stone pavement. Their heads were bowed, their hands clasped behind their necks.
It looked like an execution.
Bane was seated in a high-backed iron chair at the head of the formation, looking like a dark god presiding over a sacrifice.
He was dressed in a black suit, his legs crossed, a glass of water on the small table beside him.
Regina was seated to his left, her face a mask of cold, regal indifference.
It was not the look that I had come to associate her with.
But it was Nathaniel who held my gaze.
He was pacing behind the kneeling men, a silver handgun glinting in the morning sun.
He looked like he was waiting for a movie to start.
"Princess. Come here," Bane said.
His voice wasn't loud, but it commanded immediate obedience.
I walked forward, my legs feeling like they were made of water.
I stopped a few feet from his chair, my gaze darting between the row of kneeling men. I recognized some of them.
Bane didn't look at the men.
He only looked at me.
"My sister tells me a member of my staff forgot his place yesterday. She tells me a man here thought he could lay hands on what is mine."
"I... I told her it was fine. I don't want this,"
I begged, looking at Regina.
She didn't blink. She just stared straight ahead.
"It is not fine," Bane snapped, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp heat. "Identify him."
I looked at the row of men. I saw him. Third from the left.
The man with the rumpled collar and the cruel eyes.
He was shaking now, sweat dripping off his chin onto the stone.
Our eyes met for a split second, and the sheer, pathetic terror in his gaze made me sick.
"I... I can't," I whispered, shaking my head. "Please, just let them go."
"That isn't how we do things here," Nathaniel's voice cut in.
He stopped pacing directly behind a guard near the end of the row a man I knew had done nothing but nod to me respectfully.
"Amaya," Bane said, his tone dropping to a warning low. "Identify the man. Now."
"No," I sobbed, clutching my robe shut. "It was a mist......"
BANG!!!
A gunshot rang out and the sound was deafening.
I screamed, throwing my hands over my ears as the smell of gunpowder filled the air.
The guard Nathaniel had been standing behind collapsed, clutching his thigh as blood began to bloom through his trousers.
He didn't scream.
He just let out a low, wet groan, his face going white with shock.
"No! NO! PLEASE STOP" I shrieked.
Nathaniel looked at me with those cold, hollow eyes.
He calmly, adjusted his grip on the gun.
"If you don't point him out in the next ten seconds, I move to the next man. And I won't aim for the leg this time. I'll keep going until the courtyard is painted red, or until you find your voice."
Nathaniel pointed his gun at another guard and began to count.
"Bane, stop him!" I begged.
"He's innocent! That man didn't do anything!"
Bane didn't move.
"Then point out the one who did. Save the others, Amaya. The clock is ticking."
"Nine," Nathaniel counted.
"Eight. Seven..."
"Stop!" I cried. My vision was blurring with tears.
I looked at the man third from the left.
He was weeping silently now, his shoulders heaving.
If I didn't say it, Nathaniel was going to kill everyone.
I could see it in his face. He was itching to do it.
"Six. Five..."
"Him!" I pointed a shaking finger at the man who was guilty. "It was him! The one in the middle!"
The silence returned, sharper than before.
Nathaniel stopped counting.
He walked over to the man I had pointed at and grabbed him by the hair, hauling his head back.
"Is this the one, Princess?" Bane asked, standing up slowly.
"Yes," I choked out, the word feeling like a betrayal.
"Yes, just... please don't hurt anyone else. Please."
Bane walked over to the guard and looked down at the man with a disgust so profound it was visceral.
"You were given a simple task," Bane said, his voice a low vibration of pure rage.
"Guard the perimeter. Protect the assets. Instead, you thought you were a king because I gave you a badge and a paycheck."
"Boss, please!" the man blubbered, snot and tears covering his face.
"I was just joking around! I didn't hurt her! I swear!"
Bane looked up at the Captain, who was standing by the door.
"Take him. I will come pay him a visit myself later tonight. And captain?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"Make sure he is kept busy before I arrive"
Two large men stepped forward and grabbed the guard under his arms.
He began to scream.
"No! Please! Amaya, help me! Boss, forgive me! Please! I'm sorry!!!"
I watched, frozen in horror, as they dragged him across the stone, his heels kicking uselessly against the pavement.
His screams grew fainter as they pulled him through the heavy iron gates.
I knew then that this was going to be last time I ever saw that man alive.
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7.8
Isabella Hart thought her Valentine's Day plan was perfect: propose to her boyfriend, celebrate in the Maldives, and finally start the life she'd dreamed of.
Instead, she walked into his office and found him kissing his assistant who was also her friend.
Heartbreak turned to fury and before she could stop herself, she shoved the engagement ring meant for him onto the finger of a stranger with cold gray eyes.
The stranger looked at her, amused, and said, "I do."
Moments later, her ex called that stranger Boss.
Luciano Moretti, the stranger, was no ordinary man. He was the quiet, ruthless king of New York's underworld, the man people whispered about but never dared to name aloud.
What began as a viral mistake became a dangerous entanglement of power, lies, and a love too forbidden to survive the truth.
7.5
On the morning of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, I found a cream-colored document tucked inside my husband's suit pocket.
It was a twenty-million-dollar asset transfer for his former receptionist, Carmen. But what made my blood run cold was the contingent beneficiary: Leo, my newborn son who the hospital claimed was kidnapped twenty-three years ago.
When I confronted Devonte, he didn't even try to explain. He handed me a fake Cartier watch, canceled all my credit cards, and publicly called me delusional.
The next day, he moved Carmen into our mansion and emptied all our joint accounts into offshore trusts.
"If you don't sign these papers and walk away, I will have you committed," he threatened, his mother nodding in agreement.
They had orchestrated the kidnapping of my baby, hiding him with the mistress while I spent half my life sedated and screaming in grief. Now, to keep his secret, Devonte was going to lock me in a psychiatric ward and bury me in debt.
I didn't understand how the man I loved could be such a monster. Why did he steal my child? What else was hidden in that confidential adoption file?
Pushed to the absolute brink, I refused to be his victim.
When his goons came to my temporary apartment to drag me away, I turned to the rugged union electrician who had just fixed my lights.
"If you need a husband to keep you out of a psych ward, I'll marry you," he said, offering himself as my legal shield.
I took his hand. It was time to tear my husband's perfect life apart.
7.1
"Don't tease me again or else you really want it. There are no safe words in my bed."
He is rumored to know a thousand ways to disarm and pleasure a woman, and I am Olivia, the nymphomaniac.
In a quest for revenge against my childhood bullies, I got locked into an unhappy marriage, with an untamed brother-in-law. Colt Fletcher, the morally-grey, rebel biker is ever excited by danger and prefers life on the edge. And from the moment he laid eyes on me, I became his forbidden want.
I should know better, to steer clear of deadly desires like these but when fate forces us to live under the same roof, share the same boardroom, and every accidental touch burns, my resolve begins to collapse.
But scandals don't stay buried, and my husband is the devil. The price of this betrayal is death. I must choose between my husband who owns my name, and his brother who owns my body.
7.1
For ten years, I disguised myself as my dead twin brother, fighting bloody mob wars to build the Falcone family's bootlegging empire.
When the war ended, I thought I could finally take off the men's suits and be Anya again.
Instead, my parents stole my victories to secure my father's power, demanding I disappear forever.
When I tried to expose the truth, my family dragged me into a soundproof basement.
My younger brother forced a metal funnel past my teeth and poured corrosive chemicals down my throat, dissolving my vocal cords into a blistered ruin.
They chained me to a freezing pier, whipped me bloody, and let the men I used to lead spit on me as a jealous traitor.
Then, under the guise of a family reconciliation dinner, my mother drugged my wine.
While I lay paralyzed but fully conscious on my bed, my brother took heavy iron pliers and crushed all ten of my fingers, bone by bone.
They wanted to ensure I could never hold a gun or write the truth again.
I had slaughtered for them, bled for them, and craved only their love.
In return, they pulverized my body and painted me as a hysterical madwoman just to keep the crown I had won for them.
The foolish girl who wanted a family died in that agonizing pain, leaving behind only a ghost.
Dragging my mangled, bandaged body into the rival Romano family's charity gala, I collapsed at the feet of their ruthless matriarch.
"I invoke the sacred code," I rasped through my chemically burned throat. "I demand a Vendetta."
7.9
"You are wet, Red. I can smell your juices already." He said. I wanted to deny it but I knew he was right. The sides of my thigh were already clammy. How could he tell from afar?
"No, I need to sleep. I told you I have a presentation tomorrow, right? I'm tired, I want to rest a bit." I replied.
"You'll do that when I get a release. I'll make sure to be fast about it," he replied. I stood rooted on the same spot without moving. I knew he was just being civil with me. It was only a matter of time before he dragged me to his side.
"Unless maybe you want me to call the others?" He asked but I could tell he was threatening me. Calling the others would end in me not getting any rest at all.
"No, please," I replied walking obediently to his side.
*****
Three men, one naive woman.
Ziyana never knew her life would turn in the most dramatic way. She enjoyed the life of a princess until life happened.
From being hated by her blood to suddenly being sold to a spoilt Mafia Lord. She thought she could navigate through it but there were two more brothers!
Ruthless. Domineering. Voracious.
The Niccolo Brothers' lives were full of danger and envy but these men never wanted her out of their sight.
Would Ziyana be able to cope in the midst or run for her life before she get used to them?
8.1
Trigger Warning: This book is extremely dark, containing themes of obsession, strong sexual content, abuse, and psychological manipulation. Read at your own risk.
"I'll delete the pictures depending on how obedient you are. You have to do everything I say. If I want you to become a dog, you get on your knees and bark. Do we have a deal?"
Pierce leans down to Malakai's height, his lips brushing the shell of his ear, close enough to taste his fear.
"You don't want her to know what a dirty little creep you are, do you?"
Malakai Kreston is the preacher's perfect son. Quiet. Obedient. The kind of boy no one looks at twice.
But Malakai has a filthy secret. And he'll do anything-anything-to keep it buried.
Enter Pierce Masterson.
Wealthy. Attractive. Pierce doesn't just want Malakai's secret. He wants Malakai. All of him. His fear. His obedience. His body. His mind.
Pierce wants to own it, and lock it away where no one else can ever touch it.
Kai has always been the hunter-watching from the shadows, obsessing in silence, taking what doesn't belong to him.
Now someone is hunting him.
And Pierce doesn't play fair. He plays dirty.
How far can you run when the devil already knows every dark corner of your soul?
In a game of predator and prey, the lines blur. The roles reverse. And the most dangerous thing isn't the boy who holds the blackmail-
It's the moment Malakai stops wanting to be free.