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The Butcher - A Mafia romance

The Butcher - A Mafia romance

Mafia
last update最終更新日 : 2025-11-25
作家:  Penelope Sky連載中
言語: English
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概要

Contemporary

Fast-Paced Plot

Steamy

Mafia

Possessive

Face-Slapping

Office Relationship

I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me—because he didn’t have the balls to do it himself. I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn’t been enough for him, if I’d been stupid for marrying him in the first place. I’m at work one night when he walks inside—the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it’s the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again. I just want him as an anti-depressant—but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he’s hooked. I don’t get much of a say in the matter, and that’s not surprising when I learn why—because he’s the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules—or pay. And now I’m his.

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レビュー

growtohealth1
growtohealth1
Excellent! Loved the fast pace story and the characters
2026-06-15 10:44:12
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0
Rachel Carasco
Rachel Carasco
How often updated
2026-02-14 09:04:27
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1
Tomasa
Tomasa
I’m loving this story! I strongly recommend reading it!
2026-01-05 23:53:49
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Sandra Torres
Sandra Torres
It's an amazing story. I love it. love the characters, love the chemistry.
2025-12-15 14:07:27
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0
212 チャプター
1
Chapter 1FleurI entered the building, walked up the five flights of stairs because the elevator had been busted since I moved in, and then got my key in the lock. The door opened, and I entered my small apartment, the one-bedroom flat with a kitchen that also served as a laundry room. I flicked on the light switch and then gave a small jump at the sight of the man sitting in the armchair like a goddamn gargoyle. “Jesus…” I gave my keys a squeeze before I tossed them on the table and set my purse down. “I told you to stop doing that.”He continued to sit there with his elbows on his knees, his shoulders broad in his jacket, his eyes down on his fingers as he gripped his phone. It took him a moment to lift his chin and look at me, his hazelnut eyes full of self-loathing. “If you don’t want me here, then pick up your fucking phone.”“I don’t have to do anything, Adrien.” It was nearly two in the morning, but the City of Lights still had people on every corner, riding their bikes to the
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2
I was a bartender at Silencio, a bar that was a thirty-minute walk from my apartment. I never took a taxi, even when I got off work at almost three in the morning, because it was just too expensive. And there was nothing more peaceful than walking Paris at night—especially in the rain.It was a busy night at the bar, lots of people in the main room and dispersed throughout the other lounges. Waitresses would wait on those people and bring them drinks and small bites. I stayed at the bar and helped the people waiting for a table. At the beginning of the night, it was usually young people who’d just gotten off work and needed a drink after a stressful day. As the night passed, it turned into romantic dates. And then around midnight, different characters came in, rich men who wanted a place to drink in peace.I’d adopted a habit of constantly scanning down the bar to see if anyone else needed a drink, and while my gaze wandered, I spotted him come through the door.I gripped a bottle by
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3
“He’s been trying to get me back. Tightens his grip when he feels me slip further away.”“How long have you been married?”“A couple years.”He gave a slight nod. “That’s not a good sign. Who was the woman?”“Someone he works with. Said it didn’t mean anything.”Both of his elbows went to the bar as he leaned forward, cupping his knuckles in the other hand, the muscles and cords visible up and down his arms.“I asked if there were others… He said no.”“You believe him?”“I—I don’t know.” Every time I thought about what he’d done, I felt so shitty that I wanted to curl into a ball in the corner. It disgusted me, thinking about where his dick had been before it pounded inside me like there had never been any treason.He continued to watch me, rubbing his knuckles like they were sore from a recent brawl.“Have any advice?”He lowered his hands to the counter, taller than me even when he sat down because he had a foot and a half of height on me. “I don’t give advice—just opinion.”“Okay,
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4
The bar closed and the police came. They asked Bastien a couple of questions, but it seemed like they already knew him because they didn’t ask who he was. In fact, they treated him like a superior.I stepped outside into the cold, the air wet from a drizzle that had just passed through. The pavement was wet from the recent rainfall, and a few people were on the street because no one ever slept in this city.Bastien came outside a moment later and looked me over. “You alright?”“A little frazzled, but I’m fine.”He continued to stare me down with those piercing blue eyes. “It’s okay not to be fine.”My eyes flicked away, touched by the softness he was showing when he had been so ruthless a moment ago. “I know it is.”“Where’s your apartment?”I normally wouldn’t give out my address to a stranger, but he somehow felt like anything but a stranger even though I only knew his first name. “Rue Coquilliere. By the Louvre.”“I’ll walk you.”“I’m okay⁠—”“Come on.” He took the lead, stepping i
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5
My apartment was right next to Poppy Café, so literally just a few feet away from the restaurant. He walked me to the front door, painted green with two trees in planters on either side. It required a code to come and go, and the door weighed at least one hundred pounds and required two hands every time I had to open or close it.He stopped several feet away from the door like he had no intention of coming inside. “Are you going to keep working at Silencio?”I needed the job to keep the apartment, so I couldn’t just quit the second things got rough. Another aspect of poverty that I didn’t enjoy. “It can’t get robbed a second time, right?”“Then I’ll see you next time, Fleur.” He turned away, the pathway lined with tall bushes in planters.“Bastien.”He turned back around, his blue eyes bright even from a distance in the dark, the sexiest man ever to have set foot on this road. One look at him showed he was dangerous, but that only made it harder to look away.“You said there was a sto
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6
I could still breathe, but barely.I finally touched him, felt just how hard that chest was, touched the ink all over his skin, the heat that burned from his flesh. I gripped his wrist and squeezed as he fucked me into the pillows, as his strong physique tightened and shifted, his physicality so unrealistic it seemed fake.He moved his thumb up my throat to the corner of my mouth. He squeezed again before he let me go, before his hand found a home in my messy hair.I cupped the side of his face as I planted my other hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his mass. “Fuck, Bastien…” This man was a complete stranger, but I moaned his name like he was my long-term lover, like I’d loved him for a lifetime, had already given him sons and daughters. I should feel guilty for being with someone new while technically still being married, but I felt nothing of the sort. I just enjoyed it—thoroughly.He pounded me into the bed, one arm pinned behind my knee, while the other remained dee
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7
So, I moved on to the other messages and went about my day.I was at work when he walked inside.Not he, as in Bastien, but he, as in my soon-to-be ex-husband, Adrien.He took a seat at the bar and looked at me with his classic pissed-off expression.I stared him down with the most irritation I could muster. “Why are you here?”He continued to stare at me, a tint to his face.“Are you going to order something or…?” I didn’t have time for this immature bullshit. There were other people sitting at the bar. Even though it was a weeknight, it was a packed house.“You had someone at your apartment last night.”I stilled at the statement and felt the anger seep in. “You’re watching me?”“Making sure you’re safe⁠—”“I’m not doing this here.” I wanted to raise my voice but couldn’t. “You’re a fucking prick, you know that?” I walked away and moved on to somebody else in the hope he would leave. I served drinks and kept my eyes on my customers and my hands, and after thirty minutes of ignoring
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Chapter 3BastienIt was almost midnight.I sat in the council chamber, upon a throne that Louis XIII had sat upon himself, in Luxembourg Palace, a sprawling estate claimed by the French Republic in the late seventeen hundreds. It was the place where the Senate gathered, where the president of the Senate lived in one of the pavilions on the property.My knife was on the pedestal in front of me, the hilt carved into the seal of the Republic.I sat there and waited, Antoine and Luca on my left and Gabriel and Mael on my right, me in the dead center.One of my hands stepped into the room. “They await your judgment, Butcher.”I gave a slight nod, ushering them to come inside.Their wrists zip-tied behind their backs, they were dragged into the council room, a place where King Louis had once held court. The windowsills were made of gold, the ceiling was seventy feet high, painted champagne pink with a chandelier in the center.Two of them didn’t fight, but the one in the middle did, as if
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9
Raphael was a middle-aged man with short hair sprinkled with gray. He was thin and in shape, looking like an American businessman in his blue suit. He served the president of France and ran the Senate and the National Assembly—as well as the French Emperors—a secret society within the Senate that did all the dirty work so no one else had to. We weren’t a group of vigilantes who wanted to punish crime. We wanted to run it—by our rules. We maintained crime, kept it healthy, and protected the innocent. Without us, the French Republic wouldn’t have the most romantic city in the world.“I’ll handle it, Raphael.”“You said that six months ago.”I gave him a cold stare. “You want me to keep every criminal in this city in line. And you want me to capture the largest trafficker France has ever known at the same time. I know everyone worth knowing, and no one is saying shit about Godric. That says something…or the lack thereof does.”Raphael had just put out his cigar, but he grabbed another fr
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10
“Sure.”She made me a drink, a double scotch on the rocks, and placed it on the counter in front of me. “Didn’t expect to see you in here.”“Didn’t expect you to ignore my texts.”“I didn’t ignore them. Just didn’t have anything to say.”I took a drink as I stared at her, wondering if she’d been thinking about me as much as I’d been thinking about her. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen, but this woman had something special. I wasn’t sure if it was the I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude, the sass, or just her incredible tits—or all of the above.“You said you had a meeting. Where do you work?”I didn’t answer the question, not wanting my reply to be overheard by anyone who may be listening.She knew I ignored her, but she didn’t repeat the question or pry into my silence. She worked on her cleanup in front of me, pouring out glasses and tossing old limes for the drinks. When her hair fell in her face, she would move it across one shoulder and expose one side of her neck, and I remembered h
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