Filthy A Mafia Romance Read Online Zoey Parker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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“What?” I demanded.

She lifted her bare shoulders in a shrug. “Nothing. He’s totally an ass.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “But…?” I prompted.

“It’s just that…well, none of this is exactly news, you know?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s always been an ass, Diana. Why are you surprised he’s being an ass this time?”

I opened my mouth to argue with her, then snapped it closed abruptly. I opened it again, but once more I found I had nothing to say against her reasoning. She was right. Ethan had always been an ass. Manipulative. Demanding. Unyielding. All qualities that made him a shark of a businessman and a hell of a sexual partner.

Not that that was the point.

Was it?

“I…I just…” I trailed off before letting my shoulders slump and finally saying, “I guess I expected more of him.”

Jessie tilted her head to the side, giving me the kind of sympathetic smile a mother gives her daughter. One that says, honey, we’ve all been with the wrong man but it’s time to kick this one to the curb. “Look, I don’t understand all of the gory details and I don’t want to. But I’ll tell you now what I told you before: go to the cops. Ethan isn’t going to save you. He’ll just drag you down, because that’s what he does. Do what’s good for you, Diana, not him.”

I nodded, though I was still reeling a little. Ethan had been manipulating me this whole time.

The money for repairs had been a ploy.

The almost date-like dinner at the Mexican place had been a means to an end.

The sex that brought me to incredible orgasm—nothing more than a quick and dirty road to satisfaction. His satisfaction.

“You’re right,” I told her as I stood. “I’m sorry for interrupting your party.” I waved towards the door where her friends continued to dance on the other side.

She waved off my apology. “Don’t worry about it. The night’s still young. You wanna stay?”

I shook my head. I wanted to go home to my son, to where there was some semblance left of who I was. “No, I’ve got to go get Cody. He’s with Mrs. Rogers right now.”

“All right. Well, if you need me, give me a call. I’ll be up. And, seriously, Diana, call the police.”

I told her I’d think about it, though some part of me still knew the cops weren’t an option. She walked me to the door, through the crowd that tried to drag us onto the impromptu dance floor. Jessie embraced me, holding me for a minute and murmured, “Be careful, hon.”

“I will.”

Then I left. As the door closed behind me and I headed down the stairs, I admitted to myself the truth.

I expected more from Ethan, because I wanted more from him. But all I was ever going to get was a drug dealer who wanted to use me as a sex toy.

# # #

Standing on Mrs. Rogers’s doorstep, I reminded myself that Cody was the only man in my life who mattered.

I knocked and waited.

A few seconds later, an older woman with graying hair that was tinted a silvery blue answered the door. She had a weathered face and a kind smile—the kind of lady you imagine has twenty grandkids and knits afghans in her spare time. “Oh, Diana, dear. How are you?”

I smiled big. It still felt fake, almost achy on my face, but it wasn’t angry or harsh at least. “Good. Sorry to be so late. Work was madness today.”

“Was it an inventory night?” she asked pleasantly.

I froze, then remembered that inventory didn’t automatically mean drugs. There were plenty of other things that I received and stored in my back storage spaces that didn’t belong to Ethan. I nodded a little too late. “Yeah. It’s been brutal. How’s Cody?”

“An absolute delight,” she told me, practically glowing with affection. “He reminds me of my own boy when he was a little thing. Asks about a thousand questions and is just sweet as pie. But Tommy so rarely stops by these days, that devil.”

“You should get on him about that. Boys shouldn’t forget their mothers,” I told her.

She laughed. “You’re right, of course.” Then she waved her hands about like she had a sudden spasm, looking horrified. “Oh, I haven’t even invited you in! What sort of batty old lady am I?”

Shaking my head a little, I told her it was fine. “I really just need to pick up Cody and head home. It’s so late already.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll get him, but please do come in.”

I obliged and stepped inside, though I lingered near the door. A moment later, Mrs. Rogers came around the corner with her old wrinkled hand wrapped around Cody’s tiny one.

“Momma!” he cried and released Mrs. Rogers’s hand to run straight for me.

I knelt down to catch him as he flung his arms around my middle.


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