A Mafia Royals Romance Book 5
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Rachel Van Dyken
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35,5K
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24
Prologue
āDeep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.ā āEdgar Allan Poe
Maksim
I fell in love with her when it was right. We were throwing mud, she got some in my eyes, and I was convinced that I was going to go blind at eleven. So I chased her.
She threw more mud and said, literallyāāYouāll survive.ā
Also at eleven, I milked my first goat with her.
She loved it.
So did I. Because I was with herābecause our parents were trying to give us normal in a world where normal wasnāt a word that could ever be used.
My goat at the time decided to strike and kicked me, leaving me running around screaming like a little bitch.
āTheyāre the devil!ā I yelled. She helped me. We laughed. And I knew. I just knew.
Any girl who could survive a scandal like goat gate was a winner.
But I also knew the rules our parentsāthe bossesāhad given us.
No dating within the Families.
It could potentially cause too much turmoil.
It could cause death.
War.
And I tried.
I really did.
I tried to stay away from her. I knew my love for her could hurt her, hurt us. I could hurt us.
So, I became what she needed, even what I needed to stay sane.
And then, one day, it all changed. One day I was given a shit choice. I didnāt tell a soul.
I just got on a plane.
I did the job just as her father ordered me to.
And thatās where my story with Izzy Abandonato ends and begins.
With my lie.
Her truth.
Our pain intertwined.
I killed for them.
I nearly died for them.
And it wasnāt until that first drop of blood fell that they all realized how good I was at it.
And despite my earlier qualmsā¦ it felt goodā¦
Right.
Incredible. My job wasnāt to save lives.
It was to end them.
I just never realized Iād be damned in the process.
You want to know my story?
Hers?
Ours?
Then start at the beginning when everything went to shit.
And I killed my own love story with their bullet.
Six months previousā¦
āI donāt think I can do what heās asking me.ā I start to count down from ten and take a deep breath.
Nine. Nikolai, otherwise known as The Doctor to both the Russian and Italian mafia families, is pacing in front of me.
I use his pacing as a way to even my breathing. I count his steps; I feel better when I count.
Eight. Nikolai holds his Makarov pistol in his right hand. Blood is caked on his fingers.
Maybe in another life I would have counted the splatters.
But not now.
Now things are different.
Iām different.
I didnāt make this choice.
She did.
I want to hold her close and tell her Iām sorry. I want to marry her and have a family with her. I want to finish college and get drunk off my ass with the only girl whoās ever held my heart.
The only girl Iāve ever wanted.
Seven. I keep counting. Itās the number of people Iāve been toldānot askedāto kill in order to follow in my fatherās footsteps.
If I want to take over the Sinacore Family one day, I have to leave behind everything that makes me who I am, Maksim Sinacore, son of both Russian and Italian blood.
Six. Nikolai begins pacing again; a fire crackles in the distance.
Five. I hold still.
āAre you sure about this?ā Nikolai sets down his gun and opens a black case.
A small vial filled with clear liquid is picked up along with a syringe. āIt isnāt exactly FDA-approved.ā
āI have no choice.ā I feel tears at the loss of what should have been and what no longer can be.
Iām outside my body almost.
Iām afraid.
And fear, in the mafia, makes you hesitate, it makes you a targetāI canāt be afraid anymore, but Iām not like my cousinsāthey tried to make me into a killer, but Iām the guy that hesitates when it comes to punching.
Iām the cousin that prefers libraries to torture chambers.
The guy that saves a spiderāalways thinking twice about killing and death.
Sometimes I wonder if I was born into the wrong family.
But then I see her, and Iām reminded of all the reasons I have to do whatever it takes to stay by her sideāeven if it means taking a drug thatās not approved by the FDA. Besides, itās Nikolai Blazik; he won a fucking Nobel Prize at nineteen, along with a dozen kills under his belt.
Heās the only one I can tell.
The only one I can go to.
The only one who can fix the heir to the Sinacore throne.
I have to make him proud.
And I have to earn Izzy Abandonato at all costs.
Four. He fills the syringe.
I close my eyes. āIf this goes badly, tell Izzyāā
āNone of that shit,ā Nikolai says in that calm, emotionless voice of his. āYouāll blend fine.ā
Three. Three taps against the syringe.
Two. Two squirts of liquid as he pushes.
One.
One needle.
One life about to be changed.
One monsterābeing made.
āDo it,ā I whisper, closing my eyes.
āItās not the only way.ā He hesitates.
āDo it.ā I grit my teeth.
The needle pinches my arm, cold flows down to my fingertips. My body starts to shake uncontrollably as Nikolai stands in front of me and snaps his fingers, then whispers, āLetās begin.ā
