Broken by Sin: A Dark Mafia Romance - Page 45

He’s like a hole in my vision.

I try so hard not to look at him, and in trying not to look, I end up looking. It’s this vicious cycle of pretending like he doesn’t exist which only reminds me that he does in fact exist and is sitting over there at the bar with my brother drinking whiskey and smirking at me like he owns the whole damn place—which he sort of does since he’s high up in the Famiglia but whatever—and I need some damn air before I suffocate on his stupid gaze.

“Dave!”

“Yes, shoe girl?”

“Can you please start calling me Karah?”

He looks surprised. “Your name’s Karah?”

“Oh my god. I’m taking a break.”

“Half hour. Enjoy.”

I hurry out from behind the counter and walk fast toward the back of the alley. I need to get myself together before I really lose it. I keep seeing Elise jiggling on Nico’s dick and it’s not helping that he’s here, for some reason.

There’s a small employee break room beside the bathrooms and I head in there, hoping that Nico didn’t spot me leave my post. He’s probably too busy bragging to my brother about all the men he’s killed or whatever mafia dickheads talk about these days.

The room’s cramped with an ancient vending machine in one corner, some rusty orange lockers in the other, and a few vinyl-and-metal tables scattered in the center. An honest-to-god motivational cat poster is tacked on the wall with a picture of a smiling kitty and the phrase A little joy goes a long way and I can’t help but wonder who the hell put that thing up.

I sit down, kick my feet up on a chair, and plan on scrolling mindlessly through TikTok for the next half hour.

If anything can make me forget Nico, his fingers, Elise’s stupid fake butt, and my own self-loathing, it’s TikTok.

Except as soon as I’m parked and swiping, the door opens and there he is.

I don’t know what I expected.

Peace and quiet? An actual break on my break?

No, that’s not my life.

I put my phone down and suppress a scream of rage.

“I saw you run away,” Nico says as he shuts the door behind him.

“I didn’t run anywhere, I went on break.”

“Seems like you ran.” He comes closer but stops. A few tables still separate us and I want it to stay like that.

“And why would I have to run from you, Nico? Aside from your noxious stench and your sour personality.”

“I smell good and I’m a delight to be around.” He comes one table closer. “Are you going to make me bring it up or are you going to be an adult and ask?”

“Ask what?” I glare at him, mad at myself for being so transparent and pissed that he can’t just be a normal person for once in his life and treat me with some small amount of respect.

“You want to ask me about what you saw yesterday.”

“No, I really don’t.” I pick up my phone and stare at the screen, trying to act like he doesn’t exist.

But he comes closer. I put the phone back down and squirm slightly. He’s not going to let this go and I’m going to have to go through this humiliating exercise.

Why do I even care? Since when did Nico matter at all?

“You can’t honestly think I have a thing for Elise.”

“I don’t know what you have a thing for. We barely know each other, remember?”

Which is only somewhat true. He’s been around the family for a while and we should be extremely famigliar by this point—except he’s spent most of that time being a real bastard to me.

“You know me well enough to realize I’m not interested in a person like Elise.”

“Then what was she doing shaking her ass on your dick?” I explode and throw my hands up and as soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret it.

Because he doesn’t get mad in return.

No, the bastard has the gall to smile.

“I knew you were jealous.”

“Oh my god.” I jump to my feet. “You’re insane. You realize that, right?”

“And you’re jealous.”

“Why the hell would I be jealous of you? I don’t own you. We’re not together.”

“I gave you the best orgasm of your life and now you’re afraid I’ll do the same thing to Elise.”

“That’s repulsive.”

“I agree, but you’re the one thinking it.”

“Will you just leave me alone?” I storm toward him and jab a finger into his chest.

As soon as I do it, I regret every decision I’ve made up to this point.

The last time I prodded him, it did not go well.

And I’m dumb enough to do it again.

He looks down at me with that stare. That carnal, wolfish, hungry stare.

The one that wants to rip off all my clothes and take me.

The stare that makes me wet and sweaty and shaky and stupidly, mindlessly wild with need.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Dark
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