"Marry me." He replied in a heartbeat. "Is this kind of revenge on something you hold against my father whom you've already killed?" "Oh darling," His fingers grabbed her cheeks, but she pushed it away. He let out a small laugh, his eyes filled with amusement. "You call it revenge, I call it returning a favor," His amused demeanor was quickly replaced with anger. "Or I put a bullet through that gorgeous head of yours." He said, removing a gun and pointing it at her. - Leila Crawford is all that's left of the powerful American dynasty. Her father and her older brothers were murdered in a yacht outburst off the coast of Italy, now she's all that's left of the Crawfords, or so she thought. That's when Makros Crete, a Greek mafia comes for Her. Long black hair, He's six-foot-four, covered in scars-like tattoos and muscles, a hardened killer, and her sworn enemy. Instead of fulfilling his deadly mission, he presents Leila with a chilling ultimatum: death or a union forged in blood. She accepts marriage and decides to bide her time until she's strong enough to take her revenge, little did she know that she was sold out to Makros by her flesh and blood who she thought was dead. But will she be able to fulfill the duty of a wife & a muse to her monster husband without being fu*ked? Brace yourself for an electrifying journey into a realm of love, revenge, and the sinister allure of the dark mafia romance.
Chapter 1 Paint it Black
"Never start a war with someone who has nothing to lose"
-
"You know, if you tighten your face any further, not even a cosmetic surgeon could save you when time comes knocking." Kyle, the eldest of the four Fallon dynasty, said, with an amused expression, as he watched her.
The Crawford dining room smelled like a lot of testosterone, grappling with a strong scent of strawberries. As if that clash of opposing smells wasn't enough, Madam Jenner, the housekeeper turned aunty, announced the arrival of dinner, which brought its contrasting smell. By the time the table was set, the more pungent smell had won, drowning out Leila Crawford. And just as expected, the last child of the powerful mafia lord, Fallon Crawford, wasn't too geeked about the situation.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You're the one to talk." Her eyes fell on Jenner's chair as the older woman sat down. She said a quick thank you in her heart for her presence. At least, it was one more estrogen in a sea of males.
"Hey, watch your mouth. I'm still your eldest brother, you know?"
She would have ignored his comment. No, she almost didn't hear it in its entirety. Not until the part where he emphasized being a brother. As if she wasn't already aware, she was the only girl child, with three brothers ahead of her.
Dragging her eyes away from the golden-coated chair she had found a brief fascination with, she raised her head to Kyle and leaned forward.
"So?" She shrugged to stress her nonchalance.
Kyle hissed, his hands forming a fist. "You little br---"
"I think that's enough." The baritone voice of the patriarch was enough to drown a shark, even in its subtlety. But not for Leila.
To her, there was only one upside to being the only girl, who happened also to be the last child. She had her father wrapped around her fingers, and she was never shy to use that fact to her advantage.
Wearing a pout and googly eyes, she turned to him. "But daddy, he started it!" She said, in her little girl voice.
Fallon Crawford looked at his daughter and smiled. Anyone watching would hardly believe it was the same man that made men considered kings grovel at his feet. He was a large man in every sense of the world.
Not just because of his towering height that rivaled the giants of biblical times. His hair, darker than the shadows of the night, was the only feature that dampened the uncanny resemblance his daughter had with him. Her fiery red hair was all her mother's.
Every other thing she took from him. From her height to that smart mouth of hers. It didn't end there. She couldn't stop without snatching that braveness of his, of course.
Every time Fallon looked at her, his heart swelled with pride. He considered himself a master of invention. Be it new ways to gun down a rival or clever plots to get money out of the sink. But in his own words, Leila Crawford was his greatest invention.
"You two can bicker later. No fights on the dining table." He finally said.
Leila's face fell while her brothers chuckled. "That didn't go the way you planned, huh? Hunter, the third child, who had eyes like a predator, hence his name, mocked.
"Hunter," Travis called. He was the one that looked like their mother. Quiet and aloof. It always felt like he was a thousand miles away-a silent killer, as Jenner would describe him.
Hunter, not the one to be casually dismissed, moved his lips to speak when Jenner's hands hushed him. "Funs over, boys. You," She pointed to Kyle.
"You should lead by example. Now apologize to your little sister."
Leila's face quickly shot up, the lines of her cheeks spreading into a smug smile. The heated look on Kyle's face made her want to explode with laughter. He should have known better, messing with her.
"Sorry." He dragged between his teeth.
"Did you say something? I don't think I heard you." Leila said innocently, but her face did not match her words.
"If you didn't hear me, then you can go fu--"
"Kyle!" Jenner stabbed a chunk of meat with her fork.
He jerked up, his eyes widening. "I said I was sorry." He quickly said, knowing when a battle was over.
"I forgive you," Leila said brattily, smiling as she did. Paying no attention to the warning look he gave her, she turned to Jenner, her smile not wavering.
The older woman, whom they had grown to see as more than a house help, returned her smile. The strength in her eyes, even at that age, was something Leila envied the most. She could only wish to have such a strong presence when she gets to that age.
"Common guys!" Jenner clapped, looking round the table. "Dig in before the food gets cold."
Metals began scraping together, and clashing with ceramic plates filled the room. Leila looked at the men with renewed disgust. They ate like starved pigs. There was no etiquette of any sort in sight. She shook her head and drew her chair back. As she stood up, everyone's eyes followed her.
"Where are you going, baby?" Her father asked.
"To the restroom, Daddy."
"Eeewwww!" Hunter said with a stuffed mouth.
"Common Lee." Kyle threw his hands in the air, exasperation heavy in his voice.
The taunting smile she threw Kyle's way left her face when she felt Travis's eyes on her. Doing everything to avoid his piercing gaze, she focused on the wall instead.
"Oh, don't be dramatic," She waved a dismissive finger.
"I'll be back soon." She added with a smile and quickly turned around. Dragging down her pink dress suit made from a polyester viscose blend, she pressed her Manolo Blahnik heels to the ground and sashayed away with her head held high.
A breath of fresh air broke into her lungs as the door to the bathroom swung open. She went straight for the sink, burying her head in it. The wave of sickness crept to her throat.
It didn't take long before she began emptying the already empty content of her stomach into the sink. Her eyes reddened and moistened as she held on to her aching belly. It had taken just a few minutes to undo two solid years of hard work. Thanks for being back home.
'You will never be free.' She heard a voice in her head say. She sniffed as fresh tears ran down her face.
Shutting her eyes tightly, she drowned out the voices in her head and only focused on getting everything out of her body. Finally, it was done. Feeling lighter than a feather, she raised her head, instantly catching her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her hands went to her face, starting with her eyes.
The smudged mascara, as a result of the tears, made her cringe. She whipped her head around, stopping midway as she realized her purse wasn't there.
"Shit!" She cursed, turning the tap on. Her eyes fell on the toilet paper box, and she stretched her hand to grab it.
"Will just have to do with you then." She muttered to herself before proceeding to do the impossible job of fixing the mess she had created on her face.
She was still rinsing out her mouth when suddenly, three successive shots filled the air. She stiffened for a moment, her brain completely freezing. When the fourth shot exploded, her brain was awakened.
The survival instinct her father made sure to drill in all his children suddenly kicked. Her hands went to the side of her waist. "Fuck me!" She realized she was putting on one of those fancy suit gowns that didn't have a pocket for her gun.
No other weapon was around, so she decided to throw caution to the wind. She took to her heels and didn't slow down until she burst into the dining room.
The scene her eyes met made her stumble back. She grabbed her chest, a loud gasp escaping from her throat. There was blood all around. There was so much blood she could barely make out who was who. All she knew was that her entire family had been wiped out. She couldn't move.
It felt like she was trapped in her skin. The tears wouldn't come out either, and neither could she speak. She just stood still and stared. In her heart, which was more active than her body, she prayed it was one terrible dream.
She would close her eyes, and by the time she opened it, she was on her bed. Her father was coming to call her for dinner. Kyle was being his annoying but funny self. Hunter was trying to get on her nerves when he knew he would still ask her to sneak him some chocolate.
There was also Travis, sweet Travis, who knew all her secrets but never spoke of them. And how could she forget Jenner? The closest thing to a mother she had.
All taken away from her, but by who? The question came with a fury that rushed through the depths of her being, pushing her eyes up. Someone covered her vision. She couldn't make out who it was.
Only that he was big and close, his significant but crafty hands quickly covered her throat. Before the darkness finally consumed her slowly.
"Heel-pp, Da-ddy," she whispers before everything goes blank on her.
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