Possessive Devil – A Dark Mafia Romance Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95956 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
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“You’re sick in the head, you know that, Juniper?” I straighten up and glare at her, setting my shoulders, ready to break her stupid nose if she makes another move toward me, hands curling into fists, muscles tensing for a strike.

Riley taught me how to punch, how to make a fist the right way, how to lead with my knuckles, how to turn my shoulder and hips. She taught me so I could fight back the next time The Fist tried to slap me around, but it never worked out that way. It doesn’t matter how hard I can punch if the person I’m trying to hit is twice my size and ten times as mean.

But Riley, she wouldn’t give up, she kept on trying to teach me how to defend myself, teach me how to fight.

And now I wonder how much of that was bullshit. How much of it was just her trying to make me feel strong when everything else in my life was trying to show me just how weak I really am.

“I’m not crazy,” Juniper says, seething. “I’m realistic. I can handle Calvino. You can’t. So back the fuck off.”

The door opens suddenly and a body fills it. Diego frowns into the room, running a hand casually through his hair as he studies Juniper for a long moment. She drops the angry act and smiles sweetly at him, tilting her head like she’s a good little puppy seeing her master for the first time, and I hang back rubbing my face.

“Everyone okay in here?” Diego asks.

“Just fine. Gracie and I were having a chat.” Juniper looks back at me and her smile gets bigger, almost manic. “Right, sweetie?”

“That’s right,” I say because if I admit to Diego what Juniper was just trying to do, I’m not sure what’ll happen to the girl. Calvino could shout at her, fire her, or kill her, and none of those options would surprise me at all, so better to stay silent and make sure the stupid girl doesn’t get herself murdered.

“Whatever. I don’t care what you’re squabbling about.” He waves his hand at Juniper dismissively. “You, get out. I need to speak with Grace.”

Juniper bats her eyelashes at him as she goes. “Tell Calvino I still want to dance whenever he wants to let me.”

Diego rolls his eyes and gestures for her to hurry. She throws me a death stare as she disappears into the hallway.

“Lovely girl,” he murmurs once she’s gone. He looks back at me and strokes a finger down his chin thoughtfully. “Anything you want to tell me about that?”

“No,” I say, meeting his gaze. I move away from the wall and gather my things again.

He snorts. “Smart girl, but come up with an excuse for that red mark when you see Calvino later. Otherwise, he’ll see right through you since you’re a shitty liar.”

“What do you want, Diego?”

He moves away from the door, deeper into the room. His face falls, no longer light and joking. “I have a simple question and I expect you to be honest with me.” He steps closer and his voice lowers. “Does he know yet?”

I frown at him, confused, a hundred different possibilities flitting through my mind. “Does who know what?”

“Calvino,” Diego says, sounding impatient. “Have you told him the truth yet?”

“He knows everything he needs to know.” I stare at Diego and feel a bit of unease bubble up in my core.

Diego holds my gaze, not moving. He’s a handsome man, light brown skin, full lips, dark eyes, angular and lean, and obviously very clever. I don’t know much about his relationship with Calvino aside from the fact that their friendship goes back a long way and Diego appears to be Calvino’s only real confidante. Diego is like a mystery to me and I can’t pin down why he hangs around Calvino all the time, taking his orders, doing his dirty work.

“Like I said, Gracie. You’re a bad liar.”

My jaw clenches as I take a couple calming breaths. “Tell me what you’re talking about and stop being so damn cryptic.”

His smile is condescending and makes me want to pull a Juniper and slap him in the face.

“Your cousin, Riley. She’s not missing, is she?”

I go very still.

I see Riley’s face in my mind like a ghost: Riley crying, her makeup smeared and black; Riley with a big bow in her hair and a gleam of wild excitement in her eyes on her sixteenth birthday; Riley with a fat bruise on her lower lip from when she got in a fight with a girl at school. The thousand permutations of Riley, my cousin, the only person I’ve ever truly loved, swirl around and through me, and I don’t know what I would be without her and her memory—I’d be nothing, I’d be hollow, I’d be empty.


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