Perfect Monster: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs)
Perfect Monster: Chapter 4

“Do you have any idea how complicated your son made things?”

I wanted to scream and curse. I wanted to tell Giatno that he was one of the stupidest dons I’d ever met in my life, and I’d met more than a few bloodthirsty morons. But Giatno was at the bottom of my list, not because he was greedy, or tyrannical, or impulsive—in fact, the man was clever, good with his family’s finances, quick to exploit the weaknesses of his enemy, and all-around ruthless—but because he allowed his spoiled little brat son to do whatever that disease-ridden cock wanted.

And now there was a dead cartel girl.

If she’d been the daughter of the cartel’s big boss, this whole plan would go up in smoke and we’d be at war.

As it stood, things were still tenuous and could slip into violence at any moment.

Unless I got out in front of it.

Control the narrative. Control the situation.

“You don’t know Manzi did that to the girl.”

“If you talk to me like I’m an idiot one more time, I will hang up this phone and make sure your entire family burns.”

He was silent. I paced across my office and paused at the window, staring out at the ocean.

Several doors down, Cassie was tucked into bed.

Gorgeous, sexy, interesting little Cassie.

Distracting Cassie. I scowled out into the night.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect, Roman. It’s only that my son knows what the repercussions of killing a girl like Dia would be.”

“You overestimate your son’s critical thinking abilities. I’ve worked much too hard arranging this alliance with the Drozdov Bratva to allow everything to go up in flames because your brainless, simpering, little man-child son decided to blow the brains out of a Ramos Cartel daughter.”

A long silence. I gripped my wineglass tight and had to calm myself before I shattered the thing in my palm.

“You’re right. I’ll replace Manzi, and we will make things right. The alliance with the Drozdov Bratva will not be affected.”

“Make sure that it isn’t. The MacKennas have been pushing into the south for months now, and you will lose territory if you cannot muster the strength to stop them. This alliance is your last chance.”

And my best shot at the kind of revenge I’d dreamed of for a long time.

But I didn’t say that out loud.

“It will be done, Roman.”

“See that it is.”

I hung up the phone and resisted the urge to hurl it at the wall.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. I imagined Cassie standing next to me, breathing along in rhythm.

Her hands on my chest. Her lips near my throat.

I never lost control like this. I didn’t know what it was—maybe the girl, maybe the situation. There was pressure, plenty of pressure, but I was used to high stakes.

It had to be the girl then.

Which was confusing. I’d tasted plenty of women in my time, enough that a pretty girl wasn’t enough to draw my interest anymore.

But there was something about her. Maybe those lips, or that perfect, doll-like face, or the body she kept hidden beneath her baggy clothing, or the way she’d stood up to Manzi with that surprised and pissed-off stare, or maybe it was that sudden weakness she’d revealed in the car—

Or any number of things that made me want to get to know her.

A soft knock at the door. “Come in.”

Erick stepped into the room. He was the only other person awake inside. “House is secure.”

“How many men on the grounds?”

“Ten. I can have more on the way if you’d prefer.”

“Ten will be enough. Giatno won’t move on me tonight, and the Ramos Cartel won’t replace out about Dia until morning. The police might be a problem, but I’ll deal with them.” I rubbed my temples, plans spinning like interlocking gears, wheels turning over and over and over.

And behind it all was Cassie. Those lips, those eyes.

The way she’d looked at me as she came out of her panic attack, sucking air deep into those lungs, her breasts pressing up against that oversized jacket of hers, those pink lips parted slightly to show the gap in her teeth.

Fuck, what was wrong with me?

“What an interesting night.” Erick was the master of understatement. He walked to my side table and poured himself a drink.

“This is going to be a problem. Giatno will try and cover up for his son. That boy is his biggest weakness, God knows why since he’s not worth the effort.”

“You think he’ll try and hurt the girl?”

“I’m positive he will. Leave men in the area. Make sure she’s watched and protected.”

Erick sipped his drink. I’d known him a very long time, ever since we were children. His father had worked for my father, doing all sorts of very interesting things. They’d met in the 1970s when Erick’s father was still working as a West German intelligence operative and my family was still in Russia. Erick had learned plenty of trade secrets and more than a few deadly skills from his old man, and he was about as dangerous as anyone I’d met. But more than that, I valued Erick as my closest friend and confidant. He had a sharp mind and understood my life better than anyone else.

“What is it about the girl you replace so interesting?”

I frowned at him over my glass. “You know how I feel about collateral damage.”

He waved that away. “You’re not so obsessed that you’ll pay men to hang around a beach town in the winter. Why’s this girl different?”

“She’s the only proof I have of what Manzi did. She’s worth something.” It was a good excuse. Not the truth, but close enough.

“Perhaps that’s true, but a video of her story would be more than enough. She’s disposable, if you want her to be.”

I sighed and sat down behind my desk. Erick lingered near the window, looking out at the night, and glanced in my direction.

“She’s only a girl. You’re reading too much into this.”

A little smile quirked at his lips. “I don’t think I am, but I won’t push. When was the last time you had a good fuck?”

I grimaced. “I’m sure you could ask Roza.” My personal assistant. She scheduled everything.

And I mean everything.

“Ah, you know how things are with her. I’d rather not.”

“I appreciate you worrying about my physical needs, but that’s not within the purview of your job.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right, of course, because you care so much about the purview of my job.”

“Just make sure the girl’s protected.”

“You know I will.” He finished his drink and placed it back on the side table. “Is there anything else? I need to set tonight’s shift.”

“Cassie left her bike at the banquet hall. Send someone to get it.”

“Cassie left her bike,” Erick repeated, and he gave me another smile.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“You like this one for some reason. What do you see in her?”

I glanced away toward the wall. If I had an answer to that question, I might actually tell him—things would be easier that way.

Except I didn’t have a clue.

She was like a ghost in my mind, haunting my thoughts.

“I just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Maybe you’re going soft.”

I gave him a look. “If that’s the case, then I suspect we’ll all be dead soon.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get the bike. Sweet dreams, boss.” Erick walked to the door but hesitated before he left. “It’s been three months, by the way.”

“Three months?”

“Since you took a woman to bed. I know, it’s creepy, but I’m your bodyguard. I notice these kinds of things.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” I said, frowning at him. He was right, it was creepy. “Please stop thinking about my sexual habits.”

“Believe me, I don’t exactly enjoy it, but you can’t stay all pent up. You need a release.”

“Go away, Erick.”

He grinned and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling.

Three months? It couldn’t have been that long. I closed my eyes and tried to remember—but he was right.

How hadn’t I noticed?

I’d been busy, true. Working every day, planning and scheming and setting up an important alliance between two of the largest crime families in the country. My life was on a tightrope at the moment, and anything could push me off into the darkness.

But three months? Normally, I was insatiable.

My appetites were vast—commensurate with my stressful life.

That could be it then. I desperately needed a release and Cassie was convenient.

Except I knew that wasn’t it, wasn’t even close to right.

I stood and drifted to the far wall. I pulled a hidden latch in a carved lion’s head at the end of the mantel, and a hidden door popped open. I stepped through into my bedroom and stood at the foot of my bed, staring down at the Egyptian cotton sheets, and pictured Cassie squirming on top of them, stripped bare and beautiful, her pussy dripping wet as she moaned for me, on the verge of losing her mind—so much like a panic attack, but built from pleasure instead of fear.

I pictured taking the flat of my hand and slapping her taut little ass, over and over, until it turned pink and she begged for me to enter her.

God, what was wrong with me?

I went to bed, rock hard and dreaming of her.