Notes & Preview

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Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this story or plagiarism of any kind is prohibited by the law.

Scenes, characters, dialogues and events in this story are all invented. This story contains mature themes, profanity, violence, sexual and some triggering content (descriptions of SA) not intended for young readers.

• Author's Notes

This is Book II of the Mafia Heirs Series. The storyline in this book takes place after the last chapter of my first vampire/crime/romance story originally written in 3rd person and published on another platform.

This book is a standalone but if you want more context behind the main characters, I suggest you read "Loving The Heir" on this app.

• P R E V I E W •

◆ MILES ◆

Shoot the bastard? Watch the guy murder his own brother? Or shoot the bastard after watching him murder his own brother?

As I weighed the pros and cons, my mother paced behind me, barely containing her panic. Not her fault.

We all came here to spend time with family, not watch this display of unrestrained violence right in the middle of my cousin's pristine dining room.

Where in the flying fuck's Ricchar?

Leandro, the last person we expected to show up here in the estate, threw another couple of punches at his victim. This drug-dealing psycho just didn't give a shit.

Everything looked so out of place. The stream of profanities. Loud grunts of palpable fury. Cries of terror and pain. Stoic, tense-jawed armed guards surrounding the scene...

Were they enjoying it? The fuck's wrong with these people?

I gripped the gun but stayed put.

My best guess: Lorenzio was catching up with Mamma here in the dining room, clueless that his brother would find him here, beat him up and show him what "dominance" and "untimely death" meant.

"Do something!" My mother shrieked at the sight of blood on Lorenzio's cheek.

"Back off, Mamma." I stayed put in front of my mother. We kept a safe distance from the Tomassini brothers. A warning shot might work. Or should I just let it all play out? If I interfered, these barbaric assholes might pull out their guns and spray bullets all over the house.

Behind me, Mamma gripped my forearm, sounding like she was hyperventilating. "Stop it!" She mewled. "Maxim, stop him!"

◇ KEL ◇

...

Tall. Dark. Raven-black hair. Muscular all over. A looming presence.

My intakes of breaths wouldn't reach my lungs. I backed off. My hands and legs turned numb. Why?

Why wouldn't he stop staring? Deliberately intimidating me...

Now he towered over me with a full glass of wine and a crooked grin. It stretched his pale lips and dark beard. Leandro sipped his drink. "Thank you for helping my brother."

"I was just trying to help, Signore."

"You know he's got a thing for your type?" He chuckled.

My type?

"Humor me. Why are you with him?"

"W-We're just friends, Signore." I faked a smile at his natural talent for giving shade. I'd rather walk out of here now, but it would be rude.

"Really good friends, I gather." Leandro grinned when I kept my mouth shut. He stepped dangerously close.

The smell of alcohol on his breath and tongue wrenched my gut.

Should I shove him? Run? Shit. Where'd the guards go?

"Why Belgrade?"

My breath got trapped in the back of my mouth when his heavy hands grabbed my arms. I should scream and run. But no sounds came out of my mouth. My feet and legs wouldn't move.

Shit. What's happening?

Alone, cornered, wincing at his painful grip, I tried to push him off.

Nothing. He didn't even budge. He looked ready and excited to drown me with his bare hands.

Tears fell on my cheeks. I pulled away. My head slammed onto the edge of the pool. "Wait! Enzo! N—"

No guards. No maids. No Enzo.

Shit. His brother might murder me out here. No one would even notice anything.

"Who told you to go to Serbia?" Leandro gripped my throat, his other hand clasping my wrists. He pinned me against the wall. Hot breaths fanned my skin. "Why Belgrade?"

"I-I met up with someone there. Please let go." I bit back tears.

Should I tell him why Enzo and I were in Serbia? Wouldn't that endanger Niccolo, too?

This paranoid sadist would torture us if he found out that I met up with Niccolo, the guy who spied on him to expose his illegal businesses. "Who?" Leandro gripped my wrists.

"No one you know." I avoided his face but I just couldn't move away from him. "Just a friend."

"I'm the last person you should be lying to, Mykaela."

"I'm not—" I held back sobs. Now my lungs felt like they're burning up. I tried kicking him.

Useless. He's still taller, more muscular than his brother, and just livid. "They paid you a lot?" Leandro smirked. "You like snitching, huh?"

"No!"

"You one of Stefano's whores? Or you work for the Russians?"

"No! Stop—" I gripped his wrist when he squeezed my throat. "No! Please, Si— Don't." I couldn't die out here. Not tonight.

"Answer my question," he murmured to my lips. "You will tell my brother you're using him to spy on us. Understand?"

"I'm not! Get away—" I slapped his hand away and stopped struggling. Freeing my arms from his deathlike clasp suddenly felt easy, but my vision's starting to blur.

Calm down.

Breathe...

Panicking wouldn't help.

Breathe...

Just think of a plan.

I just needed to distract him. I could still escape. Maybe if I gave him the answers he wanted to hear...

My insides shivered when he stared me down. My chest felt uncomfortably tight now. I feigned calmness. I grabbed his hand on my throat and stared into his dark eyes.

He stopped choking me and laughed. "Feisty." His lopsided grin raised the tip of his dark beard. "I see now why my brother likes you."

"Let go!"

The psycho grabbed my arms again. "You almost got him killed. Do you wanna kill me, too?"

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