Sinners Anonymous : A Forbidden Love Dark Mafia Romance

I’ve spent nine years carving out a new life for myself, one as far away from Devil’s Dip as possible. And yet, in just a fistful of weeks, I’ve given it all up. Moved back to the town I hate, started a civil war with my own fucking family, all for her. A girl that curses in bird puns, eats enough sugar to be pre-diabetic, and is addicted to petty revenge.

“I have killed every man on this coast that has touched you inappropriately. From Max to my own fucking uncle. These kids are next, and if anybody besides me puts so much of a finger on you from now on, they’ll be killed too.”

“I stick by what I said,” he mutters.

“And what was that?” I rasp back, sinking into the warmth of the bath.

“You’re worth starting a war for.”

Angelo greets his brother with a stern expression. “Look after my girl for me.”

“Yes, boss.”

“I’m taking what’s mine”

“Yours?”

He drops me onto the passenger seat of his car and leans against the door frame. “Yeah. A capo needs a wife. Guess I choose you.”

Heat rips through my veins, and I can feel my heart sewing itself back together.

“You guess?” I whisper, looking up at him through my lashes.

He grips my chin. Runs a soft line over my bottom lip. “I know. I’ve always fucking known.”

What the hell?

Hot hands scorch my rib cage, strong and warm. A familiar scent—one I associate with danger—assaults my senses.

“I swear to God, Rory. You better know how to fly, because if you fall, I’m coming with you.”

“You’re insane,” he murmurs, gripping my jaw. “If you think I’m anything but crazy about you, Rory, then you’re fucking insane.”

because I know the moment I taste those lips—either set of them—there’s no way I can go back to London.

I know I’ll have to stay and fight for her

especially hate her. I hate that she’s exactly what I like: a girl who doesn’t back down when I have my wicked way with her. I hate the sound she makes when my belt meets her ass. I hate the shade of red her skin turns, and how that fucking ring glints on her finger when pleasure makes her hands clench into fists.

When it’s too much, I come out here to smoke to get away from her. Yet, I’m so pathetic, I can’t help but hope she’ll follow me out.