1MIABrooklyn in July is a war crime on my nostrils.Hot asphalt, rotting garbage, and the tang of days-old sweat radiating all the way from the dude currently eye-fucking me from across the street.I keep my gaze locked straight ahead, fingers tightening around the strap of my duffel bag.My scrubs stick to my back like a second skin. They’re damp from twelve hours of running codes, stitching gashes, and swallowing every catcall of “Hey, sweet thing” that various drunk assholes keep hurling my way as I try to hurry home for Eli’s bedtime.Sweet thing. The words slither down my spine, oily and familiar.Brad used to call me that.Brad, with his whiskey breath and knuckles like sandpaper.Brad, who’d whisper, “C’mere, sweet thing” right before⁠—Nope. Not today, Satan.I blink hard, shove that unwanted memory back into its coffin, and pick up my pace.My sneakers slap against cracked concrete, dodging potholes and piles of dog shit. The dollar store on the corner blares reggaeton. Ove

Last Updated : 2026-01-30

I hang up and stride into my building. I don’t bother looking back.Eli’s laughter hits me the second I open the door—high, bright, the sound of ice cream trucks and sidewalk chalk.He launches off the couch in a blur of Spider-Man pajamas and hugs me around the middle. “Mommy!”Just like that, my day gets better.“Whoa, bud!” I catch him mid-leap, staggering back. “Since when do you weigh a thousand pounds?”“I do not!”“Could’ve fooled me.” I nuzzle his neck, breathing in baby shampoo and Cheez-It dust. No perfume has ever smelled so good. “You’re turning into a dinosaur. A Tyrannosaurus flex.”“Rex,” Eli corrects, pulling back to frown at me. “And I’m not a dinosaur—I’m a boy.”“Could’ve fooled me,” my best friend Kallie chimes in from the kitchenette, where she’s microwaving popcorn. “I found scales in your bed this morning.”“They were Goldfish!” Eli yelps in horror. But he still starts checking his forearms for signs of scaliness.I set him down. But as I do, something snags my

Last Updated : 2026-01-30

2MIASuit Guy looms under the streetlight, all sharp angles and simmering rage. His tie is undone, jacket discarded somewhere, sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos snaking down his forearms.Up close, he’s younger than I thought—late twenties? early thirties at most—with the kind of face that belongs on either a billboard or a wanted poster.And right now, he looks like he wants to put my face on a Missing poster.“Did you get my fucking car towed?” he snarls at me in a rasping, feral baritone.I tilt my head. “I did try to tell you.”“You had no right.” His jaw tics.“Actually, if you had bothered to listen to me for even one second, I could’ve told you that was my driveway, and I actually have every right.” I unlock my door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got vaginas to steam.”He blocks my path. “Do you think this is a joke?”“I think you’re in my way.”“You made this much harder than it had to be.”I laugh right in his face. Buddy here doesn’t know the first thing about how hard

Last Updated : 2026-01-30

3YULIANTHIRTY MINUTES EARLIER“Blyat’!”I barely restrain myself from hurling my phone across the street.Maksim’s update has been nothing but shitty news: Nikita still hasn’t been found. Not at her apartment, not at her usual haunts, not even at HQ.Maks is my best friend and second-in-command, but he’s still getting my full wrath right now. Mostly because I have nowhere else to vent.“Boss—”“Did I fucking stutter?” I interrupt. “Find her.”“I’ve got all our men on it,” Maksim sighs. “Did you find out why her GPS signal died in Brownsville?”“Hey!” someone pipes up down the sidewalk.I ignore that voice behind me.“No,” I mutter to Maksim. The truth is, I don’t have a goddamn clue why Nikita’s GPS would lead here at all.She lives in Manhattan, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing in this armpit of New York that could have lured her here⁠—Unless…Unless she found a lead.“Excuse me? Sir?” The voice behind me is closer now. More insistent. “Your car is⁠—”“Shh.” I hold up a finger to

Last Updated : 2026-01-30

4YULIANMy offer has her head spinning.I’ll tell you what I need and why you’re perfect for it, and when you tell me yes, I’m going to put a large amount of cash in your hand, and you’re going to thank me for the easiest money you’ve ever made in your life.Her face goes through all the colors of the rainbow. I can practically see the gears in her brain working overtime. Cataloging bills to be paid. Clothes to be bought. Dreaming of a vacation, maybe, for once in her overworked life.It’s like everything she is has been splayed out before me. I can taste her despairing midnight tears, the ones she doesn’t dare show anyone. I can feel the heartbroken clench of her fists as the world frustrates her again and again.She’s been beaten down by it.This is a leg up she taught herself long ago never to expect.“I need a plus-one,” I tell her succinctly. “My date is… indisposed, on short notice. You’ll take her place.”“I’m not a whore,” she hisses, cheeks bright red.“And I don’t pay for s

Last Updated : 2026-01-30

All Chapters of Wicked Proposal- A Mafia Romance: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

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