Innocence (a Dark Mafia Romance) Read online




  Innocence

  A Dark Mafia Romance

  Stasia Black

  Lee Savino

  Contents

  Blurb

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Newsletter

  A Note From the Authors

  Also By Stasia Black

  Also By Lee Savino

  About Stasia Black

  About Lee Savino

  I’m king of the criminal underworld.

  I always get what I want.

  And she’s my obsession.

  Cora is new to the city of sin.

  Her innocent blue eyes beg for me to claim her.

  But I’m not the billionaire she thinks I am.

  There’s a darkness within me.

  And Cora is a shining light.

  She’s beautiful. A virgin.

  I’m ruthless. A beast.

  She found me for a reason.

  She’ll be my queen.

  I’ll give her everything that her heart desires.

  Except for one thing.

  Her freedom.

  She’s mine to keep, and I’m never letting her go.

  Prologue

  Cora knew she was dreaming.

  She stood on the rooftop of a high-rise, goosebumps rising on her skin at the glorious view. Beside her stood the man who gave her everything, his face shadowed.

  “It’s beautiful.” The city lights glittered like jewels in a black velvet night. The whole world laid at her feet.

  “It’s mine,” Marcus told her. “Everything you see belongs to me.”

  She wore a red dress and heels with slender straps winding up her legs. Her wrists bore silver cuffs. Her ring flashed red as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Everything?” She leaned against the ledge, striking a pose. The old Cora, country girl Cora would never be so brazen. The old Cora was a sheltered virgin, sweet and naive.

  The old Cora was dead.

  Marcus’s footsteps echoed as he stalked to her. “Everything.” The lines beside his grey eyes crinkled.

  He grasped her hips and lifted her onto the ledge. Giggles escaped as her chest tightened. Before her stood the man she loved. Behind her, a dark expanse. An endless chasm.

  “Marcus.” She clutched his broad shoulders. The wind ripped at her garments and tugged her golden hair.

  He caught her wrists and forced her hands back.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Her fingers fluttered. The garnet in her engagement ring caught the light.

  Marcus moved closer as if to kiss her. She angled her face towards his—

  —and he shoved her off the ledge. Her hands reached for him, her dress streaming around her floating body as Marcus grew further and further away.

  The night rose up, surrounded, swallowed her. The city lights swirled, a dizzying kaleidoscope. One by one, the lights went out and Cora tumbled into darkness.

  Cora jerked awake. Marcus’s dark head was on the pillow beside hers, the shadows under his eyes lighter with sleep. The sight of him anchored her, grounding her spinning senses, the weightless sensation. If she closed her eyes, she was still falling.

  Smoothing her pillow, Cora settled in. In the dark confines of Marcus’s bedroom, she was safe.

  Safe from everyone but him.

  One

  3 months earlier…

  Cora sat coloring with little Timmy when his parents started up in the other room. Again.

  “You know I hate this shit, Diana. I don’t see why I have to go.”

  “Maybe because I expect my husband to support me when my firm wins a big case!”

  Cora grabbed her phone and turned on the playlist Timmy loved best. He was three years old and apart from the occasional tantrum, he was a sweetheart. It wasn’t his fault his parents didn’t know how to use their inside voices.

  The opening strains of I’m Walking on Sunshine started pounding out of her phone’s surprisingly good speakers, drowning out the parental dramatics in the other room.

  “Rolly monster time!” Cora said, grabbing Timmy out of his chair and lifting him in the air. Whew, she was getting some serious ab and arm muscles out of this job.

  Timmy giggled and she breathed out in relief. Distraction managed.

  She put Timmy on the floor and he immediately assumed the position, laying down on his back in the center of the play room. Cora cleared out the toys around him so he had a clear space to move and wouldn’t hurt himself by rolling over stray Legos and magnatiles.

  “Cora rolly monster, too,” he demanded, except he couldn’t say his ‘r’s so it came out sounding like ‘Cowa wowy monsta too.’

  Cora pursed her lips like she was thinking about it, but she grinned and dropped to the ground, lying down next to him.

  “You ready?” she asked.

  “Yes!”

  “All right. Staaaaaaaaaaaaaart rolling!”

  They both started rolling across the floor. The giggles began immediately. The playroom was huge, especially considering the Donahues lived in the prime real estate of the Upper East End. They could afford a live-in nanny like Cora, so they obviously weren’t hurting when it came to the bank account. Too bad the money didn’t seem to be able to buy them happiness.

  Timmy finally reached the wall and Cora kept on rolling until her body smashed into his. “Uh oh! Collision! You know what this means.”

  Timmy squealed when she started tickling him.

  “You gotta escape and start rolling again. That’s the only way out.”

  She shifted him so he could wriggle over the top of her and off the other side. He started to roll away.

  “Chase me. Chase me, Co-wa!”

  “Oh I’m coming.” She gave him a fair head start before rolling, her long blonde hair catching crazy static electricity the more she did it.

  As she finished a roll and started to twist into another, she caught sight of a figure standing in the door and yelped.

  “Daddy!” Timmy cried. “Daddy, come play wowy monsta with us!”

  Cora yanked down the hem of her shirt that had ridden up and got to her feet.

  Mr. Donahue was looking at her, not his son. He was in his mid-forties, an architect who was always well-dressed and put together, if a little overly fond of hair gel. He was holding a glass of scotch. “Looks like you can have the night off after all. I decided not to go out.”

  “Oh.” Cora blinked. “Thanks.” She had asked for the night off a couple of days ago. Some of her friends, fellow nannies she’d met at the park when she took Timmy every day, had invited her out. But Mrs. Donahue told her no because her firm was having some celebratory dinner tonight. Which apparently Mr. Donahue had just begged off from. Eeek. As desperately as she needed this job, the family dynamics could get seriously weird sometimes.

  But who was she to judge family dynamics? Her and her mom qualified for the screwed-up family Olympics.

  “Daddy. Daddy!” Timmy ran up and started tugging on M
r. Donahue’s pants leg. “Come play.”

  Cora looked between Timmy and Mr. Donahue. He was always asking her to call him Paul but she preferred Mr. Donahue.

  “Are you sure it’d be okay?” she asked, eyes flicking toward the door. Mr. Donahue noticed and glowered, taking a swig of his scotch.

  “Go. Have a good time. You’re young. You deserve a gods damned night off now and then.” She flinched at his tone and he paused and ran a hand down his face. “Jesus, I’m sorry. Seriously. I’ll put Timmy to bed.” He offered a tired smile. “You’re officially off duty.”

  Cora bobbed her head. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  She hadn’t done much else other than work, aka, spend time with Timmy, since she got to the city six weeks ago.

  As much as she loved the little guy, she’d come to the city because she wanted to live bigger. To see the world. To have friends.

  To live free.

  She bent down and gave Timmy a kiss on the head. “See you tomorrow, monster.”

  He made a roaring noise and she made one back.

  She snagged her phone and hurried out of the room and up the stairs to shower and get ready.

  She texted Helena when she got to her room: I can come tonight after all!

  It was several minutes before Helena texted back. We’re meeting at The Styx at 10.

  Ten? She was usually in bed by ten. Timmy was usually jumping on her face at five-thirty in the morning. Some days earlier.

  Her thumbs moved clumsily over her phone screen. Unlike her peers, she hadn’t grown up with a cell phone glued to her side. She was still getting used to all the marvels of technology. Back at the farm, they hadn’t even had TV. Much less internet or cell phones. No, mom wouldn’t dare have any of the outside world corrupt her daughter.

  Cora shook her head angrily and hit send on the message. Sounds great. See you there.

  She pushed play on the music again, leaving it on the Timmy playlist. Smashmouth’s All Star came on.

  Let go of the past. She wasn’t on the farm anymore. She was in the big city. Living on her own. She had a job, a cell phone, friends and now a night out on the town. This was what life was supposed to be.

  Her head started bopping along to the music. Then her hips. Then she was dancing around the room and laughing, arms spread wide.

  She was free.

  And tonight she’d go dancing and maybe meet a cute boy. The whole world was in front of her and she was ready to meet it, arms wide open.

  Two

  3 Hours Later

  Oh gods, how had it all gone so wrong, so fast? Cora lifted a hand to her head as the lights of the club swirled and danced in a crazy pattern. She shook her head and staggered, sluggish and bleary in the rowdy pit.

  Helena. She needed to find Helena. Or Europa.

  She was supposed to ask them if she could sleep on their couch tonight.

  Because she couldn’t go home.

  Ha. Home. What a crock.

  It had never been her home. And now she couldn’t go back there.

  Not after Paul had waited up for her and accosted her at the bottom of the stairs when she tried to leave to meet her friends.

  The house had been dark, Timmy asleep and Diana still out at her dinner.

  Paul had been drunk, that much was clear. He’d leaned against the wall of the foyer, blocking the front door so she couldn’t leave.

  “You’re so beautiful, Cora. I think it’s time to stop with all the pretending.”

  Cora had tried to edge around him and get to the door.

  “I need to go, Mr. Donahue. My friends are expecting me.”

  “Paul,” he said, slamming his hand to the wall behind her head, boxing her in. “How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Paul.”

  His breath had been sour from the scotch. He’d reached up a hand to touch her face and she’d shoved it away.

  “Stop it!” she’d hissed incredulously. “What are you doing? You have a wife! And a beautiful little boy.”

  But he crowded her in with his body. “I can’t stop. I love you, Cora. You drive me crazy. Seeing this tight little body.” He put a hand on her waist and squeezed. “Hearing the shower earlier and knowing you were up there, naked.”

  She tried to twist away from him but he grabbed her with both hands and shoved her against the wall.

  He kissed her.

  Or, well, she should say, he smashed his mouth against hers and tried to shove his fat tongue between her lips.

  She’d kneed him in the balls and shoved him backwards. “I quit!” She’d fled with only her phone, the small bit of cash she had shoved in her bra, and the clothes on her back.

  And she’d come here.

  Only to find her so-called friends could barely give her the time of day. They were too busy flirting with guys at the bar. She tried to tell them what had happened. Helena made a few sympathetic noises, then said Cora should get drunk and forget all about it.

  Cora had stared at Helena. What did she expect? She barely knew these girls. So they’d talked a few times at the park while their charges played on the playground. She’d built it up to be more in her head because well, she’d never had friends. It had felt monumental to have girls she talked to and hung out with regularly. But to these girls, she was no one. Barely a blip in their busy lives full of friends and lovers.

  So, doubting herself, she’d wimped out of asking to crash at one of their places. She told herself she’d do it at the end of the night. Besides, maybe Helena was right. Maybe loosening up and having a good time tonight was the answer. Maybe everything wasn’t as dire as it all felt.

  So she’d let a guy buy her a drink just like they did in the books and on TV—she’d been doing a lot of catching up in the last six weeks—and tried dancing.

  But he must have gotten her order wrong. She’d asked for cranberry juice but there must have been alcohol in it because she felt weird. Really weird.

  She stumbled forward and only barely caught herself from head-butting a chick who was dancing seductively up and down on a guy like she was a stripper and he was the pole.

  Cora fumbled in the side of her bra for her phone. Why couldn’t she feel her fingers? Her hand was a clumsy stump.

  Okay, this was starting to really freak her out. She was never drinking alcohol again.

  She frowned as she finally got hold of her phone and pulled it out. Everything kept going in and out of focus. And the lights. Too bright. She winced and stumbled her way through the crowd.

  She’d text Helena. Maybe they weren’t best friends, but she was one of the only people Cora knew in the city.

  And Cora needed to lay down. This day had officially been too long. It needed to be over. Now.

  It took her three tries to swipe the right sequence of dots to unlock the phone. She squinted blearily at the little screen. It kept moving and dancing. It was hard to figure out which screen was the real one. She stabbed at it with her weird stubby hand but couldn’t seem to do anything right.

  She felt frantic and sleepy at the same time. She needed help.

  She finally got to the text app, somehow. Thank the gods, thank the gods.

  Tears of relief flooded her eyes.

  But when she started to type a message, she fumbled the phone and dropped it.

  “Shit!”

  The club floor was a dark abyss. Would she even be able to find it—

  “Hey, I remember you. Did you drop your phone? I saw you from over there.” A man dipped down in front of her and came up with her phone. She could have hugged him.

  She tried to say, “Thank you,” but her tongue was thick and it came out more like tank ya.

  She squinted up at him as the strobe lights flashed their way and she winced. Still, she could see it was the nice guy from earlier and she relaxed. He hadn’t laughed or looked at her funny when he asked to buy her a drink and she said she was only drinking cranberry juice.

  “I think I—” she started, but
the world dimmed.

  The next thing she knew, the nice guy’s arm snaked around her, supporting her weight as he led her around the edge of the crowd.

  “Let’s get you to the restroom so you can splash your face,” he was saying. “I texted your friend to meet you there.”

  Cora nodded. Talking was too much work. Walking was too much work but she fought to stay up on her feet and to keep stumbling along beside the nice man. He was strong and solid beside her and she clung to him with the little bit of strength she had.

  She lifted her head and was blinded by the lights again. It was too much. All too much. The music pounded in her head with the force of an icepick. She needed quiet. Dark. She’d even take Mama’s cellar over this.

  The thought made her feel hysterical.

  Look how far I’ve come, Mama. The big city is as scary as you said after all.

  No. Today was a bad day. She focused on lifting her feet. One and then the other. Holding on to the man to stay upright.

  Gods, it felt like they’d been walking forever. Weren’t they to the bathrooms yet?

  She finally hazarded looking up again. And frowned when she saw they were in a hallway. She twisted and looked over her shoulder.

  Wait, they’d passed the bathrooms. She tried to dig her feet in. She needed to let the man know he’d made a mistake.

  “Bathr—” she tried to say but he cut her off.

  “Shh, quiet, kid. Everything’s gonna be fine. Just fine.”

  But his voice didn’t sound right. More like he was talking to a child he was annoyed at.

  “No.” She shook her head. Not right. This wasn’t right.