Sasha: A Dark Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Sasha: Chapter 30

I watched her saunter to the dance floor, her nephew’s little hand in hers.

The moment they stepped onto the floor, a rap song started and I watched with dry amusement as the little guy broke into some impressive dance moves.

Branka threw her head back and laughed, dancing along with him. Her body moved sensually and with grace, as she lip synced the words. Everyone watched them, even other couples that danced stopped to watch them.

“They often dance together,” Autumn remarked next to me, watching them with wet eyes. “It’s their song.”

I finally recognized the song. Halsey and G-Eazy or some shit like that.

Fuck their song. My kotyonok and I didn’t have a song and I’d known her longer than that cute little prick. Jesus, this shit was getting out of hand.

My eyes drifted to Killian who watched her dancing. He liked her. But he didn’t love her. Not like me. Killing him would be problematic, so I started to slowly formulate another plan.

This obsession had festered into something and there was no coming back from it. Not that I wanted to be cured of it. Maybe that was the difference between others and me. They needed a recovery, I didn’t. I just needed her.

I wanted her to need only me. To live and breathe just for me.

A bit overboard? Maybe. I didn’t give a shit. Everyone else could go fuck themselves. I waited seven goddamn years. She was mine and nobody else’s.

“Autumn, I’m ready to collect.”

Slowly, the bride shifted so she could face me. Her hazel eyes met mine. She understood what I meant, but hesitancy lingered in her expression.

She swallowed. “Collect what?” she asked.

“You owe me,” I told her calmly. “I’m ready for the payment.”

She flicked a concerned glance to Branka then returned it to me.

“Me and my big mouth,” she muttered. My lips tugged up. She returned her attention to me. “What do you want, Sasha?” Then before I answered she continued, “And before you go too far, I want to make one thing understood. If you hurt her, I’ll help her kill you.”

Yeah, I liked her, despite her crazy and impossible notion about saving the world.

“That’s a fair warning.”

My eyes darted to the dance floor to replace Branka dancing with that unhinged Juliette, Killian, and Kol and my jaw clenched.

I shoved my hands into my pockets or risked pulling out my gun and ending the fucker. Killian, not little Kol. The latter could live, as long as he kept his hands to himself.

Jesus, I knew it’d get to this from the first kiss. I wasn’t sure whether staying away from her turned all this into a crazy obsession. Or maybe it was destined to become one all along.

Ever since that bar incident, all I could focus on was her. Branka Russo. My own temptation. A girl I wanted to worship. The woman whose full submission I craved. The image of her, on her knees, watching me with those silver eyes as I’d thrust into her mouth, played in my mind. Or her naked on my bed, ass up, head-down, as I fucked her into oblivion where only I existed for her.

Goddamn it, that was not what I needed right now.

Heat rushed to my groin. With a clench of my teeth, I pushed the images out of my mind. Or risked losing my shit and stealing the bride’s best friend today. Though reluctantly I had to admit, it wasn’t a bad idea. I had been patient. After all, it was how I hunted my targets. Sometimes it took a day. Other times it took months. Although, my relentless tracking of Branka was my longest running pursuit.

Bitter amusement filled me.

It turned out I was more like my psychotic mother than my father. I couldn’t let go. She was my vice. My addiction. My obsession.

And I barely had a taste of her. Jesus!

“When and where is the wedding?” I gritted.

Just saying those words rubbed me the wrong way.

“Jesus, Sasha,” Autumn murmured, flicking a worried gaze around. “Please tell me you won’t do something stupid.”

“I won’t do something stupid.” In fact, it would be the best thing I had ever done. “You owe me,” I reminded her, just to make sure she understood I wasn’t fucking around. “Both you and Alessio.”

Her eyes darted to Branka, watching her pensively. Then her shoulders squared and her eyes glinted with steely knowledge.

“I love Branka,” she said. “If there’s anyone who deserves happiness, it’s her. Did you or did you not cheat on her?”

“I kept my promise,” I gritted, pissed off she would question me. “Did she?”

She narrowed her eyes on me.

“Don’t be a macho dick,” she reprimanded me. “That’s for her to answer.” A troubled expression crossed her face. “She says she’s happy, but those are just words. On the outside, she’s fine. But on the inside, she’s not. She needs–” She paused as if she was unsure how much she could tell me. “She needs more. More than what she’s settling for. If you can give her more, then I’ll be on your side. If you cannot, let her go.” She glared at me and I couldn’t distinguish whether she wanted me to let Branka go or not. “Be the stand-up guy in this whole charade.”

Who in the fuck ever said I was a stand-up guy? Crazy, yeah. But all that was beside the point. Letting Branka go wasn’t an option. She was mine, before she was anyone else’s.

“Date and place of the wedding,” I said darkly.

She let out a heavy sigh.

“Why can I already sense a clusterfuck on the horizon?”

My lips tugged. Smart woman. Two minutes later I had a date, time, and place for the wedding.

I straightened my jacket and began to leave. But before I left this joyous occasion, I stalked towards Branka who stood alone by the bar.

She must have let her hair down because it trailed down her back, wavy and unruly, just like her.

Her shoulders stiffened and I knew she could feel me behind her. She didn’t bother looking over her shoulder. The little minx was adamant about avoiding looking my way.

The most perfect woman and she couldn’t even stand to look at me. Our relationship was bound to improve once I kidnapped her though.

She smiled at the bartender. The fucker got all flustered and blushed. He fucking blushed, but before he could return her smile, he caught my glare.

“Unless you have a death wish, get lost,” I growled, shooting him a touch-her-and-I’ll-kill-you stare. He paled, then scurried away leaving the bar unattended.

“Last chance, kotyonok, to keep your promise,” I purred. “Or all hell will break loose before you can say ‘I do’ to the wrong man.”

It was the only warning she’d get.

I’d be damned if I let another man own that body. I touched her. I made her moan and scream my name. Nobody would touch that little body but me.

She met my gaze in the glass behind the bar and her eyes flashed. Like lightning against the gray sky.

Then she lifted a finger and flipped me off.