The Darkest King: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Dark Kings of NYC Book 1)

I need to take another look on my own.

Without the panic. Although, that’s debatable. Seeing all the photos on the walls, with so many of them recognizable, it still creates so many different emotions within me. Fear, sadness, terror to a degree, and responsibility.

I need to warn them.

The air is colder in here, and I shiver as I turn and take in the desk where we made love. It’s a total mess, and a small smile hits my lips.

Connor is an incredible lover. Today was different from before. I felt his love in every touch. Did he feel mine?

I want to say it, but who would I be if I agreed to the murder of my own father?

I was born into a mafia family. One of the most powerful. All of them have done terrible things. Should I have to live my life protecting them, paying the price for their sins?

Have to walk away from the man I love because of it?

Everyone has a choice. There are consequences for every action in life.

If I walk away from Connor, I let them win.

I will have to return home and eventually be married off “in the family.”

I know what it means to be loved and adored and protected by a powerful man who will do anything for me. I’m not enough of a gambling woman to give him up and hope it happens a second time.

So, if I do, I need to know love won’t be in my future.

If I choose him, there’s a price to pay. My father’s life.

Possibly.

My eyes cast around the room, and I realize it’s not about whether I can accept that price. It’s about whether I can live without Connor.

The answer is yes. I can.

I will be miserable, but I can live without him.

But for what? To protect a man who is a dark shadow on society. I shouldn’t have to pay the price for his choices.

But I’m not Joe Mancini.

I may be his daughter, but I’m not a killer.

If I marry Connor and sit back and let him kill my father, should Papa be responsible, then I’m no better than him.

I can’t live with that.

I lift my hand and stare at the Rock of Gibraltar, twirling it between my fingers. I belong to Connor. I always have. From the moment I spilled whiskey on him.

My eyes fill with tears.

God, I love him so damn much.

I’m not surprised when enormous arms come around me and tighten.

“Mia,” he purrs like a lion. “Mia Luna Mancini,”

We stand there for a long moment, until suddenly, Connor reaches in front of me and pulls my photo off the wall, scrunching it and tossing it.

What did he just do?

I spin in his arms, and our eyes connect.

“I love you,” I say, tears prickling in my eyes. I need to tell him I can’t be responsible for a man’s death, but the words are struck.

“I know.” Connor cups my face, then he drops to his knees.

Oh my God.

“Mia. My love. Marry me. Be my wife. Forever,” Connor says as my mouth stays gaping. “I promise to spare your father’s life, regardless of what I discover, but I refuse to spend my life without you.”

Oh God.

My hand flies to my mouth. “You would do that?”

“Mia, I would do fucking anything for you. Now, please say yes,” he growls, and there’s a glint in his eyes.

I nod, smiling as I cry.

“Words, Mia.”

“Yes, yessss!” I let out a wet laugh and fall to my knees in front of him, throwing my arms around his neck. “Yes, I will marry you. Forever.”

“Great. This is so much easier than having to kidnap you for the next sixty years.” Connor grins as he scoops me up.

Then he takes me to bed.