Mafia Casanova Read Online M. Robinson, Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
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“If not here, then where?”

“I’m not doing this with you anywhere.”

“So then that’s it? We’re done because you say so?”

I stepped close to her face, wiping away the solitary tear that slid down her cheek. I reached for her then, cupping her face between the palms of my hands. She was crying silently, and my fingertips were keeping up with each tear, trying to erase the damage that was already done.

She was right.

This was my fault.

And I’d hate myself for an eternity.

I would hate myself for killing what could have been without even trying.

“We were over before we began.” Eden sniffled. “Weren’t we?”

I squeezed my eyes closed, inhaled, exhaled, existed in her presence, greedy for it, sick with it. “Yes.”

“Wh-why?”

I opened my eyes, my hands dropping to my sides, angry that they weren’t touching her soft skin anymore but dangling like useless weapons that had lost their drive, their purpose, their pursuit.

“Because our love wouldn’t survive it—and I refuse to do that to you, Eden. I refuse to make you marry the monster when all you’ve ever wanted was the man. You deserve that. You deserve someone good. You deserve someone that won’t come home with lipstick on his collar and another woman’s perfume on his neck.”

Eden’s eyes flickered with anger as she shoved me. I didn’t waver.

Good, let her be angry.

Let her be jealous.

I welcomed her hate more than anything; it drowned out the love that demanded to be noticed between us.

Yes, let her despise me.

Because I already did.

We were at an impasse.

A standstill.

“Keys.” She held out her hand, breaking our stolen moment.

I grabbed the bottle, taking it with me, then reached into my suit jacket for what she wanted. Handing it over to her, I was careful not to touch her fingertips, knowing if I did, I was too drunk to stop myself from asking if I could kiss each one.

Following her outside, I openly stared at the sway of her hips in her tight black jeans and soft cream sweater. My hands itched to grab those hips, turn her around, and slam my mouth against hers until she begged me for more. Instead, I wordlessly followed her to my car and opened the driver’s side for her to get in.

An awkward silence fell between us.

I nodded toward the seat. She understood my silent command, and I shut her door behind her before I walked over to the passenger side, praying to whatever God that existed to help me pass the fuck out, so I didn’t have to smell her lingering perfume the entire drive back to my house.

I buckled up, leaning my head against the headrest, waiting for the torture to begin. We drove in deafening silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Mistakes.

Demons.

When she turned a sharp left into my building, I knew our time together was coming to an end. The valet stumbled all over himself as he rushed to the driver’s side and opened the door.

“Come on.” Eden was closing my door, wrapping an arm around my waist, leading us into the elevator of my penthouse. She hit the button, and I couldn’t resist sniffing her hair like a lunatic, clinging to her more than I needed to.

This would be our last moment.

And I was desperate to slow down time.

Just like I was desperate to fix what I’d broken.

All too soon, the elevator doors opened to my penthouse floor, revealing the living room with skylight windows illuminating the room in front of us in my open floorplan suite.

“Thanks,” I acknowledged, letting her go.

The front door shut quietly behind us as I walked toward the balcony, needing to open the doors. The air between us hung heavy and thick, making it almost hard to breathe. I needed to get away from her; she wasn’t mine. The longer I was around her, the harder it was to believe that lie.

Not yours.

Not yours.

Not yours.

His.

“I love you,” she choked out.

Three words.

Three little words.

Triggered a domino effect.

Waves of anxiety, of anger, washed over me as I repeated those fucking words in my head while they greedily tried to imprint onto my heart.

With my back now to her, I ordered, “You need to go, Red.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes. That’s why you need to go.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll be forced to kick you out.”

“Just like that? It’s so easy for you to just kick me out of your life, isn’t it?”

“What do you want from me, Eden? You’re marrying my brother. Why are you here?”

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m not a child, Red. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“I know that.”

“What are you really doing here?” I rasped in a daunting tone.

“I just told you. I’m worried about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I blew out a puff of air. My composure should have told her she knew what was coming, what I was about to say, but she didn’t. I never thought it would come to this, or maybe I did, and I just chose to ignore it. Swept it under the rug that now held all of our truths.


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