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67. The Devil's Sister
Last Updated:
2025-09-14 23:59:08
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Beauty and the Mafia Beast 67. The Devil's Sister
[CAMI]I wake up sweating, breath jagged, the knife at my throat. Jake’s face is smashed in my dream and he’s accusing me. “Did you forget me?” he hisses. “How can you want a man who murdered me?”I bolt upright and my neck burns. My hand goes there before my head tells it to. The scar is tender beneath my fingers. Five days. Five days since Luzia put a knife to my throat and everything started breaking.My period stopped without warning. Food makes me gag. Every time I move my head I wince and tears come whether I want them to or not. If that blade had slipped in deeper, I’d be a puddle on the floor. Zeke has not left my side. Not even for a whole minute. A familiar desk has been shifted into the bedroom, and he works in that corner. He holds his meetings where he can still keep an eye on me. They talk murder, crime, and illegal things. Zeke eats with one hand and holds mine with the other. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. I hate it, and I don’t. I want silence. I want to be buried und
Beauty and the Mafia Beast 66. Welcome To The Family
[CAMI]I’m half asleep when the door opens. The first thing I notice is the bandage wrapped around his hand. My stomach flips and I swing my legs off the bed before I’ve even fully woken.Zeke looks at me like he’s been pulled from deep water and hasn’t quite learned to breathe again.“You’re drunk,” I accuse, making my way to him. My voice sounds too loud in the quiet.He hums lazily, then leans forward and presses his palm to my shoulder. For a beat he just holds me. Then he closes his eyes and drops a quick kiss on my head, soft as a promise, before easing toward the bed and sitting down.I stop him before he can plummet onto the mattress. “Hey—no shoes on the bed,” I scold.He sighs, surrendering. His eyes open properly this time, and he says, flat, “I’m pretending to be drunk.”“You sound mad,” I say, crossing my arms. “Why are you mad at me? You said you’d be nice.”I don’t even know why I’m irritated. Maybe it’s because after our breakfast—our stupid, quiet, normal-ish breakfas
Beauty and the Mafia Beast 65. The Old Zeke
[ZEKE]I let the whiskey burn the hollow in my throat and watch the way the light dies on the pool. Where there used to be glass—shards from that night when I shot it down to see if it would scare her—there’s a clean, whole pane now. They replaced it. They always replace what I break. It’s a habit. And it’s their job to polish surfaces to cover jagged business.She’s there near the pool, curled in that absurdly relaxed way that makes my jaw unclench against my will. Head back on the lounger, earbuds in, chest rising slowly. I let myself smile once, imagining whatever ridiculous sex scene she’s listening to right now to escape the life she’s chosen with me.Footsteps come from the open door—familiar enough that I don’t need to turn to know who it is. Dante’s weight, the little animal patience in him. Marco stopped by a few minutes ago to tell me Luzia still hasn’t eaten. That’s a different burn. One glass at a time for that.“Vance didn’t have to show up like that,” Dante says. “He mad
Beauty and the Mafia Beast 64. Breathing Dragons
[CAMI]I wake up half smothered under Zeke’s weight. The blanket has us tangled up, and he’s breathing hot against my neck like a dragon, his arm heavy across my chest, his shoulder pinning me down.“Zeke—” I choke out a laugh, trying to shove him. “You’re killing me.”He makes a sound, something lazy and smug, against my skin. Then he shifts just enough to stop crushing my lungs, but he keeps that iron arm locked around me.“Shh,” he rasps, warm mouth brushing my throat. “Don’t disturb me. I’m very comfortable right now.”And then the bastard goes back to breathing into my neck like I’m his personal pillow.I twist my head, trying to see his face. His lashes rest low, his lips twitching faintly. He’s half-asleep, maybe more. I touch his cheek, my fingers brushing rough stubble above his well-kept beard, and suddenly an idea sparks.My new phone sits on the nightstand. Carefully, I stretch my arm and grab it. He doesn’t stir. Good. I swipe the screen, open the camera, and tilt it so b
Beauty and the Mafia Beast 63. At Your Mercy
[CAMI]The mattress dips with his weight. My heart trips over itself, but I keep my eyes closed. He’s here. I didn’t think he’d come. Zeke is quiet. I wait patiently, knowing he’s looking at me. Suddenly his fingers brush my ear, and I feel a tug. He pulls one of my earbuds out. I turn, just a little, peeking. He’s got the earbud in now, listening. And of course—of course—it’s at the worst possible moment. The scene blaring in my audiobook is nothing but moans and dirty promises and physics-defying sex.My face burns red. His brows lift, and then his gaze cuts to me. “Hi.”I sigh. “Hi.”I lunge for the earbud, but his hand wraps around my wrist, stopping me.“Wait,” he says, calm, amused. “I want to hear what he’s going to do to her next.”My face flames hotter. “No—you can’t—”“Mm.” His lips twitch. “I don’t think that’s physically possible.”A laugh bubbles out of me before I can choke it back. I clap my hand over my mouth, smothering it, but he sees. Finally, he lets go. I yank
Beauty and the Mafia Beast 62. The Prettiest Collar
[CAMI]I didn’t think the villa could feel more like a mausoleum than it already did, but today it’s worse. It feels like a funeral is happening—except no one’s going to be buried. At least not yet. I don’t dare go looking for Zeke. Even after how things ended with us last night—especially after how things ended. He gave me the gun he promised, and I held it to his forehead. He knew I wouldn’t pull the trigger. It was sexy to him—wasn’t that exactly what I was trying to be? And then when he started to become drowsy, I asked him a very stupid question. I didn’t expect an answer, but I also felt disappointed because I didn’t get one. If I’m lucky maybe he never heard it. I’ve seen Zeke angry before, but never like that. Not even when he thought I’d betrayed him and that I tried to poison him at the gathering. This time it wasn’t business, wasn’t me. It was something deeper— his family. He did admit he loved his mother and Luzia. Whatever had cracked open in him…it was bad enough that
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