Mafia Casanova Read Online M. Robinson, Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
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And now he was deliberately hurting me, drawing a line in the sand, shoving any sort of love that was still left on my part off a cliff, and obliterating my heart in the process.

Raising his glass in the air, he added, “I will always hold a special place in my heart for…” Romeo paused for a second, and it felt like my heart did too.

Give me something. Please…

“…the love you and Tristian share.”

And my heart dropped to the floor.

He gave me nothing.

A single tear ran down my cheek, I tried to wipe it away before Romeo saw, but it was useless. Because Romeo Sinacore saw everything. His eyes flashed as he continued his toast.

“To my brother and his bride, congratulations. I wish you all the best and many years of happiness. Welcome to the family, Eden. Soon to be Mrs. Sinacore.”

He tossed back the last of his drink in finality and left the stage as the DJ turned up the music, motioning that the toasts were finished and the dancing should begin. It was seamless, the itinerary for our rehearsal, just like my future. Everything would be decided for me. To anyone who didn’t know, my life would be perfect, a fairy tale for a mafia princess.

My eyes followed Romeo as he disappeared behind Andrei, the Sinacore boss. And there I sat, watching the laughing couples as they raced to the dance floor and started slow dancing to whatever the hell the song was.

I could hear my own shallow breathing, and I wondered if Tristian noticed the deadness in my eyes, the empty feeling in my soul.

“Hey.” Tristian stood and kissed the top of my head. “I’m gonna go grab some more food; you want anything? I noticed you didn’t eat a lot before the toasts.”

How considerate.

But that was Tristian.

Always thinking about others.

Putting them before himself even if it killed him.

“No.” I forced a smile. “I’m good.”

A wide grin spread across his face. I drank in his chiseled jaw and warm brown eyes. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Only three or four times.” I kept my voice even, my smile small, to anyone watching they’d think we were having an intimate moment—how romantic, the soon-to-be bride and groom can’t seem to get enough of each other.

Only the bride wasn’t thinking of her groom.

I wished it was that easy.

That the beautiful man in front of me consumed my thoughts, owned my soul.

Instead, it was the asshole who hurt me. No matter what Romeo did, no matter how much love or hate he tossed in my direction, he would always take up residence in my heart.

If I could quit him.

I would.

“Well, it’s true.” Tristian cupped my chin between his fingers, lifting my face toward him as he pressed a soft kiss against my lips. “Be right back.”

I took a deep breath when he left in an effort to calm my anxiety and the tightness in my chest.

The song shifted to one of my favorites, Lie by Jake Scott. I was almost tempted to go after Tristian when Romeo grabbed the microphone again and said. “I dedicate this song to the lovely—” My breath hitched. “—Celeste Gambino.”

He set the wireless microphone down next to the DJ and crooked his fingers at Celeste.

It was the final nail in the coffin.

She smiled in triumph as she stalked toward him, her strapless red dress so short it was indecent—he’d have easy access. And she’d allow it. She’d wanted him for years.

We’d grown up in the same circles. I wouldn’t exactly call her a friend, more like an enemy, and Romeo knew that. She was the one woman I’d told him was off-limits. We’d actually made a pact when I was sixteen. She’d hit on him again right in front of me, and I’d nearly pulled her fake blond extensions from her tiny head.

He’d promised me he’d never touch her.

And now?

Now she was in his arms, her body plastered against his as they danced. He smiled down at her like he couldn’t wait to get her alone while she ran one of her hands through his hair, hooking it around his neck and pulling him closer.

He was doing it on purpose.

Making my hate boil to the point of no return.

He spun her around, then locked eyes with me over her head, expression smug.

She must have said something funny because he laughed, stole one last look at me, then lowered his head, eyes never leaving mine—and kissed her.

Both arms went around his neck as she clung for dear life; he broke eye contact with me and deepened the kiss earning a few knowing looks from people dancing next to him and an exasperated sigh from Tristian as he returned with a plate of food and sat down. “I’m surprised he lasted this long.”

“What do you mean?” My voice sounded weak, even to my own ears.


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