Ruthless Heir: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Dynasty Book 1)

“Are you sure this line is secure?”

Crouching down, I press the phone to my ear and begin to search the bedside drawers for something to rid this room of Luis’ cowardly stench.

At my back, I can hear the soft sound of Bianca’s hot shower drifting out from behind the half-open bathroom door.

My heart twitches at the thought of what we just did.

But it’s not just what we did in that bloody bed that has me shook. It’s what we did out on the front lawn too.

Bianca was my good cop. My partner as I interrogated that scumbag Luis Falcao.

She helped me get what I wanted. Answers. Even if they were vague.

El Blanco.

The mystery fucking grows.

“It better be secure,” Roz’s crackling voice speaks up. “Or else I’m losing my touch.”

“Maybe you are losing your touch,” I say, only half-joking. “After all, Rian Kilpatrick was able to break through your scramblers and latch onto the power signal you set up near Drago’s lair.”

“He what?” Roz hisses, before catching herself. “I mean, who’s to say I didn’t design it like that? Drago was trying to set up a trap. Wasn’t he?”

“We don’t work with Drago anymore,” I remind her.

Ripping open the bottom drawer of the oakwood nightstand, I finally find what I’m looking for.

A box of matches, and a row of white candles. They smell like vanilla. It’s the same fragrance I smell when I think of Bianca.

Perfect.

“We’ll let’s not say that too loud,” Tytus pipes up, static hissing behind his voice. “At least, not yet. I still have to keep up appearances with the dragon, don’t I?”

Placing the candles in strategic spots around the bedroom, I begin to light them.

The scent is invigorating, especially in the face of what I just learned.

The priests are coming.

Soon, Bianca will officially be mine—and so will all of the power that our union can bring.

But that can wait.

First, there are other matters to consider.

“Tytus, did you find out what Drago wants with Rian Kilpatrick?” I ask, keeping one ear trained towards the half open bathroom door.

My cock still gently throbs as I peek through the slit. Unfortunately, Bianca’s naked figure is shrouded by the steam coating the glass shower walls.

I can still taste her sweet nectar on my lips, as well as the metallic tang of her blood.

It’s almost enough to make me rock hard again.

Fuck. She tasted me too. My cum erupted down her tender throat, and she swallowed every last drop.

But that was just the start. We’ll be married soon. Then, I can reward myself, and her.

I will fuck her again. And this time, I’ll finish inside of that tight little cunt.

“I didn’t have time to get much out of Drago,” Tytus grumbles. “But I did manage to overhear something useful.”

“What?” Roz and I both ask at the same time.

“You were right, Gabriel,” Tytus tells me. “It definitely has something to do with the lion’s technical skills. Something about decryption.”

“Fuck,” Roz curses. “Decryption has always been my weak spot. But it’s just because I don’t like puzzles, alright?”

“I believe you,” I assure her, stepping out in the hallway.

The pitter patter of Bianca’s shower fades and my heart stirs.

“How’s Krol doing, by the way?” Roz asks Tytus, glee lining her every word. “Is he in a lot of pain?”

“Seems like it. He was fucking pissed. Almost started a fight with me before I reminded him of how that would end.”

“I wish you would have ended him,” Roz snaps.

“In due time,” I remind her.

“Yeah,” Tytus agrees. “Before we can stage any kind of uprising, there’s a wedding we all have to attend.”

“Then, we’ll have access to Gabriel’s lost fortune… as well as his father’s hidden army,” Roz agrees, calming herself.

The stirring behind my chest tightens into a knot as I consider just how close I finally am to realizing my destiny.

None of this has gone according to plan. Yet, somehow I feel like it couldn’t have gone any other way.

Sure, I’ve all but cut ties with my adoptive father. Sure, other than Tytus and Roz, I’m uncertain of who to call an ally and who to call an enemy.

But I have Bianca. And I can tell that I have more than just her body now.

My fingers clench and unclench as I pace the hallway outside the bedroom.

Something has changed between us. Something that snapped free in me while I ate out her bloody cunt.

Fucking hell. It’s hard to admit, even just to myself. Even just silently.

But a four-letter word crossed my mind while she came all over my face—a word that has been all but absent from my life.

Love.

For a moment, I truly felt like I was in fucking love.

It was a dreadful, dangerous thought.

But the moment I got Tytus’ text about the priests, it suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

One way or another, Bianca is going to be mine. Forever.

At one point, that sounded like hell. I didn’t think I could ever like her, let alone trust her with the power she would help bring me.

But now?

I can see the future in our union. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can see her stunning silhouette waiting for me. Preparing for what’s to come.

Shit.

Really, I should be overjoyed that I’m falling for my little mouse. I’m stuck with her, after all.

But my feelings for her are a double-edged sword.

The last thing I want is to see her get hurt. Truly hurt. I don’t want to watch as she’s crushed by the overbearing weight of our dark responsibilities.

She isn’t ready yet. And a ring’s not going to push her over the edge. So, I still have to figure out a way to break through the last bits of her soft outer shell.

And I have to do it before the ceremony.

“We’re so fucking close,” Roz echoes my thoughts. “Are you sure the priests are willing to go behind Drago’s back to marry Gabriel and Bianca?”

“They don’t give a shit about Drago,” Tytus assures us. “Gabriel is the one they’ve been waiting for. Hell, they almost looked relieved when I intercepted them at the airport. I’m sure they’ve had to deal with Krol before. And after the first time, no one ever wants to deal with that snake again.”

“They didn’t put up any resistance?” I ask, remembering the heart-stopping words I read in Tytus’ next just minutes ago.

Call me. I have the priests. We’re coming.

“No. They’re just as ready for this as you are. Apparently, without a strong ruler, the Polish underworld has descended into chaos. That doesn’t bode well for anyone. Not even the idiots who want a Reca on the throne. The priests are eager to return to normalcy. Everyone is.”

“You’re the one with royal blood,” Roz reminds me. “After you put that ring on Bianca’s finger, all you have to do is knock her up, and you’ll be in charge of everyone and everything. Including the priests. I’m sure they only want to get on your good side.”

“Let’s hope,” I grumble. “Will the priests be bringing everything we need for the ceremony? Or do we have to go on a scavenger hunt?”

There isn’t anything here for us to wear but the clothes on our backs—well, that’s not true. We could always slither into some of Luis’ clothes, but there’s no chance I’m doing that, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting Bianca anywhere near that fucker’s wardrobe.

This place already stinks of the dead man. The last thing I need is my bride smelling like anyone other than herself.

Walking back into the bedroom, I take a deep whiff of the vanilla scented candles.

This place is already starting to smell less like a dirty drug lord’s woodland hideout, and more like Bianca.

My fingers curl back into fists when my gaze lands on the discarded sweats that Bianca has been wearing.

Digging my nails into my palms, I try to draw blood away from my begging cock.

Tytus picked up the outfit for Bianca on his way here. He asked if I wanted her in something skimpy or something comfortable.

She’d been through enough. Plus, I knew she’d look hot in any outfit. So, I chose the sweats.

“No need to go shopping,” Tytus assures me, his voice crackling along with the background static. “We’re on it.”

“Yeah, I’ve already got the perfect wedding gown picked out for your bride,” Roz says, and. I can’t quite tell if she’s been sincere or not. It’s always hard to tell with her.

“I’ll be bringing you a custom-made suit,” Tytus adds. “Black as well, obviously.”

Fuck. Am I actually getting excited about the prospect of finally marrying Bianca? My one-time rival. My enemy. My captive.

This isn’t supposed to be exciting. Our marriage was only ever supposed to be a burden. Something I had to go through with in order to fulfill my destiny.

Bianca wasn’t chosen because I thought she was special. She was chosen because she was the best option available, no matter how infuriating she was.

But she doesn’t infuriate me anymore.

No. Suddenly, just the thought of her makes me feel fucking warm inside.

It’s a dangerous feeling.

This is the girl I chased. The girl I returned to high school for. The girl I became a body guard for. For years, my obsession for her was fueled by hate.

But the hate is evaporating. And something else is growing in its place.

Love.

No. It’s too fucking soon for that. I like her. I’m obsessed with her body and her smell and her voice and her fire. But that doesn’t mean love. It just means that she’s the first girl to really grab my attention… right?

Fuck. I don’t know.

Even as I sit down on the edge of the bed and look over to the steamy bathroom, I’m not so sure love isn’t the right word for what I’m feeling.

Whatever the case, one thing seems obvious.

Bianca will look good in black. Even more so in an elegant wedding gown than she did in that tight outfit I found her wearing back in the hills.

But we’re not quite there yet.

There’s so much more I need to do in preparation.

And the first thing on that list will be the most unpleasant task of them all.

“Roz. Tytus. I need to talk to Drago,” I sigh, wishing that I didn’t have to. “Find a secure way to make that happen.”

“Why?” Roz hisses. “As far as I’m concerned, this is a clean split. He betrayed us.”

“Nothing is ever clean with Drago,” I remind her. “Especially not if he’s sending Krol around to do his bidding. That fucker is unhinged.”

“Can it wait?” Tytus asks. “We don’t want to give Drago or Krol a chance to track down our location before we can go through with the ceremony.”

“There are questions I need answers to,” I grumble. “I need them before Bianca and I get married.”

Fuck. I have so many questions for Drago. Questions about my parents. About his role in my upbringing. About his loyalty and his allegiance. About Krol. About the legitimacy of this ceremony, and about all of the hopes and dreams he filled my head with growing up.

Everything’s been thrown into question.

I need to talk to my adoptive father. I need to see if I can filter the truth from the lies. At the very least, I need to try.

Back in the bathroom, I hear the shower shut off.

“Roz, if I give Drago a call, can you find a way to make sure he can’t track me down?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Tytus. Stay on your toes and keep those priests safe. We’re so close.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

“I’ll talk to you guys later.”

With that, our conference call ends.

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I feel the weight of something else shift.

My fingers fall onto the switchblade I confiscated from Bianca back in the library.

Pulling it out, I quickly recognize the ornate handle.

This is the knife I gave to Roz.

She must have given it to Bianca.

But Bianca wasn’t ready.

Fuck. Before the priests get here, I need to prepare my bride the best I can.

But how do I do that? The only hostage we had is dead. There’s no one left to kill or torture but each other…

As if on cue, one of the candles I’d set up on the nightstand flickers, drawing my gaze.

Hot wax drips down the stick as my thumb traces the blade in my hand.

Just like that, my cock is rock hard again.

I have an idea.

A dirty, depraved idea.

Bianca should love it.

But will she survive it?