Cognac Villain - A Mafia Romance

twenty minutes and yo

, "I'm having fun. You

h her energy all the time. Definitely not

uff. Even when she's sober as a judge, Jorden is a te

r as long as I've known her. She was raised by a single mom off food stamps, workin

does deserve a br

"I'm gonna go find another drink

Fine. But if you find me grinding up on some hot y

cheek. "I hope I find you g

rl. I just might. I

I put on a brave face while Jorden was watching, but as soon as I find a bathr

k to a place like this, around people like this... I

f here, I'm going to d

y neck, my palm comes away

ust a couple more hours, then the clock will strike mi

nig

almost

ty. Through the distant double doors, I catch a brief glimpse of Jorden in the crowd. B

nies it. "Hey t

eting to a rumpled man with a damp fo

ight smile and retre

words are breathy, arriving on a cloud of a

that's nice of you. I'm f

doesn't show it. He steps closer, his bell

eflexively. "He's getti

second and then c

because he's so certain. "I don'

e rest of them." He says it with more of that

sit and discuss with this charming fellow.

g my path. "Everyone is here for Ivan, but I'll show you wh

ve literally no idea what you are talking about. You probably

weaty, meaty ha

it's like paying attention to a dripping faucet whe

opping things. Married men leave their phone numbers on the receipt; friendly-lookin

gs, knows that there are two choices: you can take it all on the chin and keep your job-or you can live out the fa

m the wro

motherfucker who

V

ut of my fu

've ever met. And the next, and the next. For a bunch of scumbags and

he furthest thing

under my roof tonight is here

me to

ster, cousin, mother, whoever, they aren't too particular. They j

f them. We have the money. The power. We decide who gets what and when, and the

ll be the death

friend and right-hand man, as he snares a

ll be the death

ue. That sister of yours owes you one for

e does,"

nt. I wouldn't be here, subjecting myse

ffing half a dozen decent marriage proposals in order to elope with a lowly Bratva foot soldier? It's blasphemy in the eyes of the old bastard

That being said, I'm not exactly big on the concept

not be doin

. I'm marrying to take the heat off my sister's transgressions. I'm marrying to

othing to

oned by years of fighting alongside one another to be ready for whatever comes nex

none of that

t, at

nos is his name, I think. He's coarse and sloppy, which matches his reputation. Even now, his eyes are rolling

hands to yourself

hrough clumsy lips. "I wa

bbing m

," he mumbles. "You don't

now you did not jus

ein' a bitch, no

s the face with a vicious slap. Those freewheeling eyes of his go

his unkempt smile twists

imp and harmless. He goes to paw her again. She tries to bat him off, but he's bigger and stronger

hat, I've

l be damned if this inebriated moron is going to

do far too much of that. I could

ly capable of ripping thi