Falling for the Killer: A Dark Possessive Mafia Romance B.B Hamel (best thriller books to read .txt) 📖

was small but cozy, with a big leather couch and a TV. My decor was simple and spartan, with good furniture and a few framed and signed sports pictures. She drifted toward the kitchen, arms still hugging herself as she looked at my things and seemed unable to meet my eye.

“You want a drink?” I asked, thinking she’d need something to loosen up.

“Yes,” she said, then quickly, “but no, sorry, I can’t.”

“All right,” I said and faced her, hands spread. I leaned against my dining room table. “What can I do for you, Ash?”

She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m in trouble,” she said.

“Is it Stuart?” I asked, my eyes blazing with anger. “I can help with that. If you need somewhere to stay—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, then bit her lip hard. “Fuck, Gian. I didn’t want this to happen.”

“You’ve got to give me some clue here,” I said softly, stepping closer. I want to pull her against me so badly.

But she drifted away. “This was supposed to be a one-time thing, right? I know you probably don’t understand, but I was going to marry him and make things right, and now everything’s fucked.”

“Ash,” I said. “What happened?”

She looked back at me, tears in her eyes. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “And before you ask, yes, you’re the father. I haven’t been with anyone else.”

I stared at her and said nothing. I felt the blood pulse in my ears like an ocean rushing over sand.

Pregnant. With my baby. Ash Adamson, rich girl, wealthy family, knocked up.

With my baby.

I never wanted to be a father. I never wanted any of this. My parents were pieces of shit, and I didn’t want to bring another life in this world if I couldn’t guarantee I’d be better. But I wasn’t a good man, and so children were off the table for me.

Then I probably should’ve worn a condom, or at least come in her pretty mouth instead of between her perfect legs.

Pregnant. With my baby.

The shock started to thaw. I took a step toward her and reached out numbly. “What can I do?” I asked softly. “You can stay here, if you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” she said quickly. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you.” She sat down on the couch and leaned forward, her hands over her face. She was trembling.

I sat down next to her and gently touched her back. She cried, but didn’t pull away. I stayed with her, unable to say anything. I didn’t know how to comfort her—I didn’t even fully understand what she was going through. She was an alien to me, and her world was utterly foreign. The idea that she’d marry that weak-dicked Stuart fuck was repulsive, and yet she seemed to think it was necessary, like it was her duty or something.

But she was pregnant with my baby. I couldn’t let her go back there, not if she planned on going through with his marriage. She was pregnant with my child, my baby, and there was no fucking world in which that Stuart guy raised my child, no way in goddamn hell would that ever happen.

For the first time in forever, I felt powerless.

She calmed down after a few minutes and looked up at me, tear-stained eyes glittering in my overhead lights. “I’m sorry to just sit here and cry,” she said. “It’s probably not very nice. I mean, I’m not crying because it’s your baby, and I guess I sort of am. I’m just really confused right now.”

“I understand,” I said. “You thought your life would be one thing, and now it’s something different.”

“Yeah,” she said, chewing on her lip. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

I had a million thoughts, but only one cut through, loud and clear: don’t let her leave, no matter what.

If she left and went home, she’d go back to that life. Right now, she was on the precipice of something, and if I let her walk out that door then she’d step away and return to what was safe. I couldn’t fight her family. They’d crush me with money and lawyers and hired muscle if it came to violence.

But if she stayed here, stayed with me, I could show her what a real man was like.

I could keep my baby.

It was stupid and crazy, but I had to convince her to stay.

“You’re upset,” I said, and gently rubbed her back. She nodded a little and leaned into my hand. “You’re probably scared. Have you told anyone else yet?”

She shook her head slightly. “Only you. I had this feeling, and my period’s late, so I bought a test and—” She stopped herself and took a deep breath. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Then stay here tonight,” I said as gently as I could.

She pulled away from me. “What?”

I held my hands up. “Just for tonight,” I said. “I don’t want you going back home and doing something stupid.”

“Like what?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Like telling your parents before you decided what you’re going to do. You’re upset and you’re scared, and I think you should stay here tonight to get yourself together. You really think going back home’s going to help?”

She opened her mouth then shut it again. Her eyes softened slightly and I felt a quick patter in my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this fucking nervous in my entire life. I’d gone to kill men and felt less, and yet here was some beautiful, small girl sitting across from me, pregnant with my child, eyes still damp with tears, scared out of her mind—and all I wanted to do was help her, and I was terrified of the whole thing.

“I’m afraid you have ulterior motives,” she said.

“Nothing sexual,” I said. “I swear to you. I have an extra room you can sleep in. The door locks if that helps.”

She laughed a little. “It actually does.”

“Then come on. Sleep here. We can talk, or