Table of Contents
A Dangerous and Possessive Love (Dark Mafia Romance Duet, #1)
About the Book
A Dangerous and Possessive Love:
Part One
The Past
Present Time
The End of Part I | Reid and Fawn's story continues with A Dangerous and Cruel Love, the second half of the Dark Mafia Romance duet.
Note: This was previously published as Prince of Darkness (Part One).
He's powerful, merciless, and so, so dangerous that people call him the Prince of Darkness. And right now, the prince wants...me.
I really should've known better.
His place looks more like a fortress than a home, and everyone living with him is armed to the teeth.
That should've been enough to send me running.
But because I was foolish, I ended up working for him.
A foolish lamb serving the terrifying wolf in a suit.
I thought having a boyfriend would make me immune to the Prince of Darkness.
I thought I could keep myself safe.
But I was wrong.
This is Part I of the Dark Mafia Romance duet.
About the Book
When Igor came back after escorting the girl out, the prince said idly, “She’s different, isn’t she?”
“In a good way, I believe.” Igor took his usual place, standing at the side of the prince.
Leaning back against his seat, the prince remarked, “She calls me ‘prince.’” While he was known as the Prince of Darkness, no one had really called him that to his face.
“Which you are one,” Igor pointed out.
He rolled his eyes. “Not by blood or appointment, and you know that.”
“The people on the island think differently.” When the prince had turned eighteen, he had received a posthumous bequest from Rodrigo amounting to millions of dollars, all of which he had used to build new infrastructure on the island he had grown up in as well as set up livelihood programs for victims of gang-related crime.
The prince shook his head. “I’m just giving back what was theirs from the start.”
“Not many others would.” Igor’s tone was unusually cynical, but both of them knew he spoke the truth. Seeing the prince’s expression turn grim, he changed the subject, saying, “I believe you’ve made the right decision with the girl.”
“Do you?” The prince’s tone was unreadable.
Igor nodded firmly. “I am certain it has not escaped your notice that the last five women we dismissed had all made the mistake of thinking you were in love with them.”
The prince let out an inelegant snort.
“Exactly, sir. Ms. Cornwall, however, is unlikely to do the same. After all, she is engaged to Mr. Grant Bennett—-”
“Who, according to you,” the prince interrupted in a lazy drawl, “is my opposite.”
“Your exact opposite, sir.”
The prince raised a brow. “Did you really need to emphasize that?”
The older man’s expression remained bland. “Ms. Cornwall has been fortunate enough to find herself a good man to love, and I believe that Mr. Bennett is equally fortunate to have someone like Ms. Cornwall as his fiancée. It would be a pity if her employment with us would cause problems in the relationship.”
“Is that your roundabout way of telling me,” the prince drawled, “I should keep my hands off her?”
“Your words, not mine, sir.”
The prince rolled his eyes. “She’s not my type, Igor.”
“I am overjoyed to hear that, sir.” But privately, Igor wasn’t so certain. After all, when the girl had answered back, the prince had neither reprimanded nor fired her, which he normally would have done. Instead, the younger man had almost...smiled.
A genuine smile, which Igor had only seen the prince doing in the company of his small circle of friends.
But with the women he took to bed?
Never.
A Dangerous and Possessive Love:
Dark Mafia Romance Duet
Part I
by Marian Tee
This duet was previously published as Prince of Darkness Part I.
Copyright 2020 by Streak Digital Publishing
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Part One
The Past
The heckling started as soon as the thirteen-year-old boy stepped out of the limousine. Black-haired, green-eyed, and bronze skinned, he was a complete contrast to the dignified-looking British couple accompanying him.
“Send him back to hell,” someone in the crowd shouted.
“Demon spawn,” another yelled.
Bloodthirsty reporters snapped as many photos as they can, with the less ethical of them even feeding the crowd’s aggression as they began loudly throwing questions at the newcomers.
The sound of angrily spewed curses and insults hurled at the boy faded as he and his foster parents crossed the threshold of The Old Bailey. Uniformed guards immediately barred spectators from entering, but the rest of the media only had to present their badges to gain admittance.
They stalked the trio, their endless stream of questions only meant to provoke any of their targets into answering. Their objective was simple, and it wasn’t the truth they wanted. Instead, they craved anything sensational, and they were willing to cross all lines of decency to make it happen.
“Do you think it’s morally right to harbor a criminal’s offspring when thousands other innocent children die every minute?”
“Is this how you want the world to be, Lord Malcolm? Red carpet treatment for rich folks, and children with questionable lineage and connections are able to acquire British citizenship just because their parents took the right people as hostages?”
“Won’t this send the wrong message to criminals? Evil acts are rewarded, and children who may have already been permanently brainwashed are taken in without question?”
More questions followed, but they were silenced the moment the doors of the courtroom closed behind Lord and Lady Malcolm and the boy.
Lady Malcolm bent down, anxiously checking her son’s face. “Are you alright?”
He nodded.
Lord Malcolm ruffled his son’s head, saying gruffly, “Remember, we’re behind you all the way.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The formal tone made the normally mild-mannered Payton want to punch someone’s face. Reid had been living with them for over five years, but even now the guarded look in his
