Broken Crown (Mafia Royals 5) - Page 4

But Roman is my forever.

My lips are swollen when we finally stop kissing. I have no lipstick on them anymore but don’t care as we sneak out of the bathroom a few minutes later.

Roman goes back to my uncle’s side.

I walk to the bar and grab a glass of wine.

The room stills as King enters and slowly makes his way through the crowd, and he honestly does look like a king in his black suit, clear blue eyes, chiseled jaw, and messy hair. Yeah, he looks like a king you don’t want to piss off, but one you so desperately want to get to know.

In another life, he would have been perfect for me.

In another life, I would have been perfect for him.

I shoot a glance toward Roman, and I know the minute he sees King because his entire demeanor stiffens while his skin pales, as though he’s seen a ghost.

King smiles at people as he walks through the crowd and finally stops in front of me, towering over me by at least six inches.

I look up and try not to gasp. He’s almost too striking to be pretty, and yet he’s beautiful in his own terrifying way. He’s like a historical romance novel all in one package, with the way he stands, walks, stares like you can’t tell if he’s entranced or pissed off.

“Hey,” I whisper.

He cracks a smile, reaches for my hand, kisses the back of it then says, “Hey.”

I smile despite my nerves.

And then he says something I never expected in a million years. “Why don’t we go meet the soon-to-be bride’s new bodyguard?”

“Sure.” I shrug. “I just assumed it would be a Campisi, maybe Dom.” I frown. “No… Dom has better things to do. Axel? I’d probably drive him crazy and make him—”

I quit talking when we stop in front of Roman.

King’s calm and collected as he drops my hand, leans in, kisses my cheek, then whispers, “Be happy, Del.”

My mouth drops open.

Roman stiffens, his face blanching to the point it resembles kindergarten paste. “I thought I was guarding some new spoiled princess?”

King laughs and turns to me. “Is this the part where you raise your hand?”

I slap him on his ridiculously tight stomach. “Very funny.”

“Meet your new assignment,” King says to Roman, leveling him with a glare. “She dies, I slit your throat, rip the rest of your head from your body and feed it to the pigs out back.”

“You guys have pigs?” Del asks.

“Long story.” He sighs. “Long, long, story.” He swallows and looks between us. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

I shouldn’t watch him walk away, but I do.

Because he just gave me a rare gift.

My freedom.

But at the cost of him walking into that prison cell, turning the key, and tossing it away.

Be happy?

But what about him?

Chapter Three

“Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of intelligence.” —Edgar Allen Poe

King

I’m an idiot.

Like a complete idiot.

I have nothing coursing through my veins… unless you measure the blood and ask how much of it pumps for her, burns for her.

I have zero things left in my arsenal.

So I give up.

No, fuck that, I don’t give up.

I give her what she needs, what she says she wants.

My soul feels like it’s scraping my insides as I watch her walk out of my house, the house I’ll most likely inherit when I become the new Capo. Del strolls outside like my heart isn’t ready to snap like a rubber band in my chest, slamming against my insides, causing internal bleeding.

She looks up, and her green-eyed gaze takes in the stars while I watch like a complete fool. My body tells me that she wants me. My heart tells me that we have a chance.

My brain, however, jolts us back into the reality we now live in.

I’ll marry her because that’s my duty as the next Capo of these Families But love? It was never for me, and why should it be? What amazing thing have I done to deserve to have the sort of love my cousins have? My best friends? They all sacrificed. And this? This is being fucking handed to me on a silver platter with gold oven mitts and diamond-encrusted decorations.

It’s not the same.

Not that I want it to be.

Maybe I just thought my journey would still include something—epic.

I almost laugh because yeah, bullshit, I’m literally hiding behind a giant-assed oak tree watching Del like a friggin’ stalker as she looks up at the sky while Roman comes up behind her.

I keep my growl back.

Not gonna turn into a werewolf, so why worry everyone that I’m going crazy as he wraps his arms around her middle, resting his chin on her head.

My hands shake at my sides as her smile matches his. I’m going through absolute hell while they experience heaven.

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime
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