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I roll my eyes. “We’re some pair, huh?”

“And we’re gonna have some life,” he says, pulling me down onto the day bed. He straddles me from behind on his knees, reaching an arm around me as his cock presses into my pussy. He pulls me against his chest as he thrusts inside of me, his fingers flicking my clit.

“Dante…” I choke out, my breath hitching. “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

His movements speed up, his dick sliding all the way out and then driving into me, sliding against my clit with every movement. His thick cock pulses and throbs deep inside of me and my quiet whimpers quickly morph into wails for release.

My gut clenches as I squeeze my muscles, pulling him deeper. A tingling sensation in my core shoots out to my limbs, deliciously numbing every cell in my fingers and toes as the orgasm tears through me. My head falls backward onto his chest and he clutches me tight as his movements speed up. His body trembles, slow at first until full-blown tremors make him tense up. A guttural roar erupts from his chest as he makes one final thrust inside of me.

We sit there for a minute, plastered against each other, panting, sweaty, and swimming around in our little bubble of erotic bliss.

I peek up at him after a few more seconds pass. “Thank you,” I say quietly.

He winks at me. “For that massive orgasm? You know you’re always welcome.”

I shake my head. “No, for giving me back what I thought I’d lost forever. For giving me a family. You, me,” I smile, biting down on my lip. “And hopefully a baby of our own,” I say, rubbing my belly.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, trailing his fingertips down the side of my face.

I nod. “Yes, because it’ll be us. And there’s nothing more perfect than that.”

“Perfect,” he says. “And forever.”

Yes, forever.

I really love the sound of that.

Part Two: Patrick

What the fuck did I just do?

I hunch forward in the leather recliner, dropping my head into my hands as moonlight slithers through the sheer curtains. It casts a soft glow on Kyla’s face, a face that haunts my dreams at night because I know we can never share anything more than these stolen moments.

But I can’t seem to tear myself away from this girl, no matter how hard I try.

Then again, she’s never just been “this girl.”

She’s everything.

Including my best friend’s sister. 

I pick up the dress I tore off of her only an hour earlier and bring it to my nose, breathing in her familiar perfumed scent. I clutch the fabric in my fist, anger bubbling in my veins.

Black.

She hates wearing black because it’s depressing and morbid but today, she was cloaked in it because she’s grieving.

We all are.

The scent of lilies from the memorial Mass still stings my nostrils.

A sweet yet noxious smell that brings back too many toxic memories.

I watch her still body cling tight to the pillow, her long dark hair splayed over the soft silk sheets. 

She looks peaceful now.

Blissfully tranquil.

She has no idea that I’m about to leave her.

Again.

And for the last time.

My jaw tightens as my phone buzzes on the carpet. I grab it and stab the Accept button as I walk into the hallway of her condo.

“Hey” I murmur. “Do you have it?”

“Yeah,” my brother Quinn answers. “I’ve got the address.” 

“Good. Now let’s make sure that motherfucker never sees the light of day ever again.” 

“Patty, are you sure you wanna do this? Nobody gave us the order to—”

“Fuck orders,” I seethe, my lips twisting as I bite back the rage that threatens to spill from my lips. “That sonofabitch dies tonight.”

If You Enjoy Hate To Love Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance, Don’t Miss Patrick In Corrupted Crown.

Read On For A Sneak Peek—>

Sneak Peek of Corrupted Crown

Chapter One: Kyla

“Stay away from me! Stay away from all of us!”

My mother’s tearful screech shatters the silence in the otherwise empty house and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, my body jolted by her sudden outburst.

I know nobody is here with her. It’s Tuesday, so Clara, our cleaning woman, has the day off.

And I just left Dad at the office after I told him about the monster business deal I secured that is going to put Costigan Enterprises at the very top of the proverbial food chain.

She should be alone…

“Mom!” I call out in a panic.

My ears perk up when she cries out in horror again, and I run in the direction of her tortured sobs.

“Don’t ever call me again!”

Who the fuck is she yelling at?

Blood rushes between my ears as I tear down the long hallway leading to the solarium, her favorite room in the house.

She always said the space brought her peace.

Ironic that what she’s seems to be experiencing right now is anything but.

“Mom!” I yell, louder this time. “Mom, I’m coming!”

I burst through the door, finding her slumped over in her favorite distressed leather reading chair, a worn paperback copy of Great Expectations on the coffee table beside her, along with a cell phone.

I fall to my knees in front of her. “Mom, what happened? I heard you yell…I thought something had happened.”

She raises her red-rimmed blue eyes and nods. “Something has, Kyla. Something very bad.”

I furrow my brow. “What is it? Who you were on the phone with!”

Before she can utter a word, the cell phone rings, the threat of whomever is on the other line looming over us like a thick noxious cloud. A guttural roar erupts from her mouth and she grabs the phone, hurling it against one of the floor-to-ceiling window panels. It smashes against the freshly washed tempered glass and crashes to the ceramic tile floor.

Mom swipes at the tears under her eyes, jumps to her feet, and drags me out of the room behind her. “I need to leave, Kyla. We need to leave! Right now!”

I pull at her arm. “Mom, I want to know what’s going on! Who is calling you?” I swallow hard, my mouth unable to form the words on the tip of my tongue.

Her stricken look makes my gut clench.

Oh God, oh God, oh God…

No!

I’m not some naïve twenty-seven year old woman who lives in a blissfully ignorant bubble with no ability to process her current reality. My parents have had issues, sure. But they’ve been married for thirty-five years! What couple doesn’t want to wring the neck of his or her spouse every once in a while after all that time?

“Are you having an…affair?” I whisper the last word because I’m not even prepared to hear myself speak it.

Mom stops short and turns to stare at me, her eyes filled with horror at the prospect of me even asking such a question. “Absolutely not!”

“Then what the hell is going on?” I bellow. I’m not one for playing Twenty Questions. I like getting answers, preferably earlier than later. “I want to know who was on the phone!”

Mom’s shoulders visibly quake and she shakes her head, taking my hands in hers. Chills slither up my arms at her cold, clammy touch. “Kyla,” she says in a shaky voice. “There was a man your father had hired awhile back. It was while you were working in the London office. He became part of Dad’s inner circle. They worked together pretty closely and he would come here often for meetings outside of the office. I was involved in some of them because of the charity organizations I work with.” Her eyebrows knit together. “And then he started showing up here when Dad wasn’t around. He made up excuses to talk about upcoming events I was organizing…” Her voice trails off and she shakes her head. “It was innocent at first and I didn’t think much of it, especially since Dad knew all about the drop-ins. But then one time, he came over drunk.” Her voice quivers. “He tried to attack me, but I managed to escape. He was arrested, but nothing stuck. And now…” With a hitching breath, her eyes flood with tears.