Sasha: A Dark Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Sasha: Chapter 13

I crossed the distance through forgotten graves as I approached Mia’s burial ground.

Her face still lingered in my dreams. Her haunted eyes. There were nightmares plaguing her before those men attacked her. Afterwards, they were just dead. I hated that I had failed her. That I didn’t protect her.

My military career was over. There was no recovery after you smashed the skulls of several men serving this country. And blew out their knee caps. I didn’t fucking regret it. My only regret was that I didn’t make them suffer for a long time. They were the tipping point that pushed Mia over.

My feet halted at a low weeping sound. I stood by the tree, watching a woman dressed in black stand next to her husband. There was no need to wonder who they were. Mr. and Mrs. Russo. One’s eyes were cruel; the other’s dead.

Alessio Russo. He stood over his sister’s grave, his jaw clenched hard and expression dark. I could relate.

But it wasn’t them who captured my attention. It was a little girl with auburn brown hair and gray eyes that reminded me of sad, rainy days. She also wore a long black dress that swallowed her small body. She was petite, her face pale.

She held her mother’s hand, but her eyes kept searching out her brother, fiddling with her wrist. Her mother must have barely been holding her hand because the little girl jerked it almost as if they weren’t holding hands. Her fingers wrapped around her wrist, and it was then that I saw it.

An ugly gash. Burned flesh on her wrist. Her sleeve pulled up and burn marks marred her skin, from elbow to right above her wrist.

Her brother must have noticed the same thing because the same second, he lunged after his father and started beating him.

Like a fucking madman.

It took three men to pull him off the old Russo. He took Branka’s hand and lifted her up into his arms. The little girl’s arms wrapped around her brother’s neck and her tear stained face finally showed a hint of a smile. He left without a backwards glance.

The old Russo and his wife followed shortly afterwards.

Once gone, my gaze trailed back to the grave. I took slow steps. One, two, three. It took ten steps to stand above Mia’s casket. My eyes locked on the shiny wooden surface. She was already six feet under, the ground swallowing the shiny surface.

“Fuck, Mia,” I rasped. “I wish you stayed.” No answer. Not that I expected it. Foolishly hoped, maybe. Just as I hoped I’d convince my mother not to do it.

“I made the fuckers pay,” I said to the casket. “And I’ll keep my promise,” I vowed into the wind. “I’ll keep them both safe.”

For the past eleven years, I had kept an eye on them. More Branka than Alessio. The latter was ruthless and a killer, just like me. He didn’t need much help. The little sister, on the other hand, was a different story. She needed protection – her brother’s, mine.

Failing her wasn’t an option. I already failed two women in my life, I’d be damned if Branka would be added to that list.

Something heavy settled in my chest. Maybe I was getting sick. Or maybe my mother’s psychotic ass was finally prevailing in me too. My obsession was growing. Fast and steady.

Jesus Christ, if I turned into a raging lunatic like my mother, I might have to end it all.

I shouldn’t have touched her, but I knew I would. Why? Because she felt like mine from the moment I saw her at Berkeley. But her moans sealed the deal. Her little, breathy moans were so damn sexy and addictive. Fuck, she was such a glorious sight when she orgasmed. The way bliss crossed her expression and how her gray eyes turned silver. Fucking silver, like some mystical creature sent to destroy me.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, frustrated.

Getting another taste of her was a dumb move.

I made a mistake, and now, the wait would be fucking torture. I’d known for a while now she’d be mine. But I needed her a bit older. Ready for my kind of flavor of sex. And then there was the issue of her father and my promise to my brother.

And her brother would probably try to skin me alive if he knew I was after his sister. After all, he made his feelings clear on her off-limit status. Although, she’d be so fucking worth getting skinned alive for.

Shit, I let my dick guide me. Again! It happened every time I was around this woman.

Darkness cast the room with the shadows from the crescent moon. She was beautiful when she slept. But nothing beat her wits and sassy mouth.

My gaze swept down her body – from her red, sparkling toes to her cheeks resting on a curtain of long auburn hair. Her lips were parted as her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Her brows were drawn and her mouth tight. I smoothed a hand over her brow and her slightly shallow breathing evened out and her lips relaxed.

“We’ll kill all those ghosts,” I whispered. “You and me, kotyonok.”

She didn’t stir. Her bedside lamp was still on and I flicked off the light, then lowered myself into a rocking chair. I laced my hands behind my head and watched over her.

I didn’t give a fuck that this was wrong. I knew I should have left the city. Instead, I snuck into Alessio’s home. Just to get a taste, I told myself. Well, I got it and I was still here.

Fuck Alessio and fuck everyone else. At least for tonight.

After that little taste of her, I left but it took me only two miles to turn around and come back. I should have seen her to bed. But my control hung by a threat and I had to get the fuck out of there. The smell of her sex was intoxicating, luring me in. But I knew if I’d take her the way I wanted to, I’d lose her.

Fuck! I wanted to slap her for having this impact on me without even trying.

I wanted to slap myself even more for being an idiot.

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