Mafia Sins: The Mafia Romance Collection Read online

  Bella King

  Mafia Sins

  The Mafia Romance Collection

  Copyright © 2020 by Bella King

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  Contents

  Introduction

  The Secret Vow

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  Mafia Bride

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bad Boy’s Captive

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bonus Content for Mafia Bride

  Bonus Content for Bad Boy’s Captive

  Introduction

  Making love to a mafia boss isn’t for the faint of heart,

  Car chases, crime, shootouts, and near death experiences all come with the territory,

  It’s easy to get too deep,

  Seduced by a life of crime,

  And the delightful sins that come with it,

  So, tell me,

  Are you ready to tame the beast?

  Or will you let the thrill pass you by?

  Mafia Sins is a collection of three thrilling, romantic, soul-gripping mafia romances that take you from adventure to adventure, never skipping a moment to let the heat loose on the way to the climax.

  You could call this a guilty pleasure, but I’d prefer to call it a well-deserved break.

  Enjoy!

  The Secret Vow

  Once you join the mafia, the only way you leave is through the arms of death.

  She doesn’t know who I am.

  She doesn’t know that I need her.

  She doesn’t understand that this is for her own good.

  I gave my word to her father that I would protect her.

  Now he’s dead, and she’s in my hands.

  She thought that he died from a workplace accident.

  Yeah, I guess you could call it that.

  A bullet to the head is a significant hazard when you’re in the mafia.

  I thought that she was safe.

  But our enemies have found her, and they want to take her from me.

  Violet Sommer holds the key to something precious, and she doesn’t even know it.

  Chapter One

  “You really know how to treat a lady, don’t you?” I say, my voice oozing with sarcasm and disdain.

  Rurik Petrov rests his chin on his large fist, his blue eyes studying me as I remove my dress in front of him. His fingers are decorated in jewelry, a blue sapphire glinting in the light from his middle finger. It matches his eyes perfectly.

  He leans forward in the old wooden chair, and his voice rumbles from deep in his chest - commanding, dominant, and firm. “The panties too.”

  I push my thumbs into the waistband of my red lace panties, glaring at him. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Yes,” he replies, keeping his words short and impactful. He has been like that the entire time I’ve had the misfortune of being around him.

  “Don’t look,” I say, trying to rescue what little dignity I have left since meeting Rurik. I still don’t know who he is or why he has taken me from my home, but I’m not about to let myself be bullied by him. My father taught me better than that.

  A smile flickers across Rurik’s serious mouth as he unfolds his fingers from the fist under his chin and raises them to his eyes, shading them from the view of my body. His rings glimmer under the yellow lights of the old room as my panties hit the wool rug that I’m standing on.

  I’m naked in front of a man I just met today, wondering how the hell I managed to get mixed up in this mess. Rurik says he’s here to help me, but I doubt it. From his thick Russian accent and his Italian leather shoes, I gather he’s not from the United States. What he wants with a woman like me, though, is beyond my knowledge.

  “Put the robe on,” Rurik says, his large hand still covering his eyes.

  Beside me, laid out neatly on the small bed, is a light-pink silk robe with the letter S embroidered above the right breast. A forked tongue protrudes from the letter, making it look like a serpent.

  I snatch the robe from the bed and quickly pull it over my shoulders, wrapping the belt tight around my waist and tying it in place. The fabric is so thin that the outlines of my nipples are showing, but it’s miles better than being naked.

  “I hope you understand,” Rurik says as he lowers his hand from his face. “I’m not doing this to humiliate you.”

  “Then why are you doing this?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest and frowning.

  “You’re starting fresh today,” he replies, rising from his chair to his full height of over six feet. “You are no longer Samantha Brown. Your real name is Violet Sommer, and you’re coming with me now.”

  Everything he tells me only makes me more confused. My name isn’t Violet, and I don’t want to go with him. I want to return home and continue my normal life by myself. I’m afraid of what Rurik has in store for me.

  “When
you step out of this door,” Rurik says, calmly waving a hand toward the dense wooden door with an aggressive triple bolt lock holding it shut, “You will have to obey everything I say. Should you step out of line, well,” he pauses, rubbing a hand across his sharp jawline, “You won’t want to do that. Your life now depends on how well you can follow instructions.”

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I demand, planting my feet firmly on the ground and tightening my arms over my chest.

  “All in good time,” he replies. He pulls a small black phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He dials a number and presses the phone to his ear, flashing a quick smile to me before the call is accepted.

  I glare at him, holding my ground as he begins to speak in Russian. His conversation is short, consisting of only a single sentence on his end, but it gets the point across. He snaps the phone closed as the heavy bolts on the door slide open.

  “It’s time to go,” he says, holding out his hand for me to take.

  I shake my head aggressively, my auburn curls bouncing across my face and sticking to my lips. There is a horrid feeling in my gut, like a hot stone sinking deep inside of me, and I’m trembling despite my best effort to steady myself. I want to appear strong.

  Rurik steps forward, placing a huge hand on my shoulder. His grip is like ice and fire at the same time, and I can feel it all the way down to my bone. He looks at me with his pale blue eyes and says, “Violet, you either come with me, or you end up like your father.”

  I jerk my body, attempting to free myself from his grip, but I flail useless, unable to break free. “You don’t know anything about my father,” I say with a hiss. “And my name isn’t Violet.”

  His gaze softens, and a smile creeps into his solemn face. “I knew him quite well, actually. He was a fighter, just like you are, but even fighters can make mistakes. I’m not going to let that happen to you. You’re coming with me.”

  I dig my feet into the carpet, anticipating Rurik’s attempt to move me to the door, but even in doing so, I am unable to stop him. He picks me up like I weigh nothing and throws me over his shoulder, one large hand covering the backs of both my thighs as he hauls me out of the room. I pound his broad back and thrash my legs, but he ignores me as he carries me out.

  Chapter Two

  “How do you take your coffee?” Rurik as before he carefully takes a sip out of a white porcelain cup, the steam drifting into his face like smoke from a cigar. He’s drinking black coffee, but I won’t be able to stomach anything but water right now.

  “I don’t want coffee,” I say, trying to keep myself as far away from Rurik as possible in the limousine that we’re riding in. I think it’s an odd vehicle to conduct a kidnapping with, but I’m not complaining. It puts space between Rurik and me.

  “Nothing at all? This is quite good stuff,” he says, raising the cup to his nose and inhaling deeply. “Mm, it reminds me of Peru. Have you ever been there?”

  “No,” I reply, annoyed with the way he’s speaking to me, as though we were taking a ride through town as old friends. The dynamic isn’t quite so quaint.

  “You don’t have to frown, Violet. I think you’ll find your new living conditions to be rather pleasant. You should be thanking me,” he says before taking another sip of his black coffee.

  I’m tempted to laugh. Is he listening to himself right now? Why the fuck would I be thanking him when he ripped me out of my home, stripped me of my clothes and belongings, and is now hauling me out to god-knows-where on a Thursday afternoon?

  I shake my head. “You haven’t explained why you’re kidnapping me.”

  “I’d prefer to think of it as relocating, rather than kidnapping,” he replies, putting the cup of coffee down into a cupholder beside him. “You’ll like your new home.”

  I’m suspicious of Rurik. He seems to think that I’m someone named Violet Sommer, and he insists that he’s doing me a favor by taking me from my home. I don’t know what his deal is, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he intends to sell me to someone overseas. It would make sense, seeing how wealthy he seems to be. I bet it’s a lucrative business.

  “That’s a pretty necklace,” Rurik says, breaking the silence again. He points to my neck.

  I raise my hand, clutching the pendant hanging from my neck by a thin gold chain. It’s a flat circular charm that my father gave me a few weeks before he died of a heart attack. I didn’t wear it much when he first gave it to me because it’s rather plain, but once he passed away, I vowed never to remove it. It’s the one thing that I was able to take with me when Rurik’s goons snatched me from my home.

  I frown at Rurik. “It’s mine,” I say, as though he intends to snatch it off my neck.

  He chuckles. “I know that. A gift from your father, I believe.”

  “How do you know that?” I ask, jerking my head back. I’m now as far away from Rurik as possible, leaning against the opposite corner of the car, but I try to move back even further.

  “I knew your father, Violet. He was a good man,” Rurik answers.

  “You never knew my father,” I hiss. “He would never befriend a man like you. He was a saint, and you’re nothing more than a crook.”

  Rurik raises a thick eyebrow, pouting his lips as he looks me up and down. “Saint isn’t exactly the right word, but he treated people fairly.”

  “Shut up,” I say, raising my voice. This might get me in trouble, but I have a short temper, and I don’t like people talking about my father when they don’t know him.

  “The same temper, too,” Rurik says, grinning. “I think we’re going to get alone very well.”

  “Fuck off,” I reply, a deep scowl staining my face.

  “I can’t do that even if I wanted to. It’s not safe for you in this world. You have no idea how special you are,” he says, leaning in and clasping his hands together. “Your father never told you the truth about who you are.”

  “My father died when I was seventeen,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “I know,” Rurik replies. “I was there when it happened.”

  “You’re insane,” I say, beginning to think that Rurik might actually be out of his mind. My father died alone, and his body was discovered the next day when he didn’t come home from work. I remember the night I spent waiting for him like it was yesterday. That’s one memory that will never fade.

  “You do have to be insane to be part of the Mafia,” Rurik says, rubbing his square chin thoughtfully. As he places his hand back down, a tattoo in the shape of an S reveals itself on his inner wrist for a brief moment before being covered by his cuff.

  “The mafia?” I ask. I don’t know whether to believe him. He could be lying.

  Another chuckle escapes Rurik’s lips. “Yes, we used to be Bratva a long time ago, but we’re in the United States now as well. Globalization has changed a lot of businesses. The mafia is no different.”

  “What’s Bratva?” I ask, never having heard this word before.

  “The Russian Mafia,” he replies. “There are many sects, but ours is international.”

  “God,” I exclaim, smacking my palm against my forehead. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “Don’t worry, Violet. You’re with the right sect.”

  “Stop calling me Violet,” I shriek, clenching my fist against my forehead and pulling it away. “I don’t care if you’re with the Mafia. The police aren’t going to have any mercy when they arrest you.”

  “The police?” Rurik asks, his eyes lighting up in amusement. “They’re nothing. I have not so much as looked at a jail cell all my life, and I’ve been shooting guns and making black market deals for the past fifteen years.”

  “Bullshit,” I say, trying to call his bluff. I want it to be a lie so badly. I never did anything to attract the attention of the Mafia. I didn’t even know they existed in the US anymore. This had to be an elaborate hoax.

  “You’ll see,” Rurik says, his face donning a smug expression.

  “I doubt it,”
I reply, adjusting my robe as it starts to slip down my breast. The silk is so smooth that it feels like I’m not wearing anything at all.

  Rurik leans back into the limo seat, placing a foot over his other knee and displaying the red bottoms of his black leather shoes. I have no way of verifying that he’s actually part of the mafia, but it’s very apparent that he’s rich. I don’t know what that means for me, but I take comfort in collecting information about Rurik. It might help me escape from him in the future.

  Chapter Three

  I step out of the limousine onto concrete, my feet protected by the pink slippers that Rurik provided for me before we left. My heart thumps loudly in my chest, beating at a panicked rhythm as I look around at where we are.

  “This way,” Rurik says, placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me past two armed guards in full black body armor.

  I don’t have the chance to process everything before I’m led up a thin staircase into a private jet. The second my foot hits the carpeted interior, I hear the sound of the engine turning on, and the door closes behind me.

  Rurik continues to guide me with his hand resting gently on my back as we walk through the plane toward a set of seats. There are two armed guards on the plane as well, already seated and ready for takeoff.

  I want to ask Rurik where we’re going, but I can’t get the words to leave my mouth. My throat is dry and tight. It’s all I can do just to breathe normally as my heart hammers against the thin bones of my ribcage.

  “Take a seat,” Rurik says, motioning to one of the two free seats on the plane. There are only four in total.

  I’m reluctant to move forward, but Rurik’s hand won’t allow me to slow down. He pushes me along the cabin until I’m directly in front of the seat, in which case I have no other choice but to spin around and sit down.

  “Good,” Rurik says, looking me over before sitting down beside me.

  I can smell his cologne, like a fog of chocolate and spices in the air around him. The more time I spend around him, the more likely it seems that he is from the mafia. I just wonder what his plans for me are. A private jet almost certainly means that we’re going far.