Sweet Brutality: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Obsession Book 4) Read online

  SWEET BRUTALITY

  A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE

  ZOE BLAKE

  SWEET BRUTALITY

  A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE

  By Zoe Blake

  Copyright © 2022 by Stormy Night Publications and Zoe Blake

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Blake, Zoe

  Sweet Brutality

  Cover Design by Dark City Designs

  Photographer: Wander Aquilar

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  CONTENTS

  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

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Sweet Ferocity Sneak Peek

  About Zoe Blake

  Also by Zoe Blake

  Thank you!

  CHAPTER 1

  Carinna

  It was the never-ending shift from hell.

  Usually I didn’t mind bartending for my rent money. It was a decent job with great tips and had a super flexible schedule that fit around my pastry classes.

  But not tonight… tonight it was a nightmare.

  I was only an hour into my shift, and I’d already cut my finger slicing lemons, and some asshole had tipped his beer over on the bar and ruined my favorite pair of black leather leggings. It certainly didn’t help that I was wearing the most uncomfortable and revealing leather corset top ever made. I placed my hands on either side of my boobs and yanked it up. What had I been thinking? I needed tips, but not bad enough to display the girls on a silver platter for the idiots who came to this bar.

  I glanced at the cash register clock.

  Just six more hours to go.

  Thankfully, I wasn’t closing tonight, so I could clock out at midnight.

  The moment I got home, I was taking this torture trap of a top off and getting a nice, long, hot shower. The thought of my favorite author’s latest fabulously smutty book uploaded on my Kindle waiting for me made me smile. Yep, a dark and kinky read was the closest I’d been to having a boyfriend over the last four hundred and thirty-two days, but who was counting? Besides, boyfriends were a nuisance. I was already in my mid-twenties and I’d yet to meet a guy who wasn’t just a glorified man-baby. They usually needed constant attention, not to mention teaching them how to dress and act properly so they didn’t embarrass you in front of your friends. The worst ones barely knew how to feed themselves, let alone enough to appreciate dining in a fine restaurant. Nope, I was better off staying in a committed relationship with my Kindle bad boy toys.

  Thinking of bad boys brought to mind Maxim, the man who’d confronted me and my best friend Dylan outside my apartment earlier today.

  The man had practically screamed dirty, sexy, hot.

  I had opened my apartment door to find a wall of muscle in an Armani suit blocking the way. He’d had the audacity to inform Dylan he had changed the locks without her permission. He’d then had the arrogance to chastise us both for our attire—Dylan for being wrapped in a towel and me for wearing a T-shirt and silk sleep shorts. I could almost still hear his rumbly, rough voice as he glared at me, scolding me like I was a rebellious teenager.

  He turned to me. “You as well. You should know better than to walk around naked.” He motioned toward my apartment door with his head. “Get back inside and cover yourself.”

  Placing my fists on my hips, I fired back, “Who the hell do you think you are? And I am not naked!”

  Maxim placed a hand high on the wall and leaned over me. “I’m the man who is going to strip that skimpy piece of fabric you call an outfit off your body and spank your ass red if you don’t obey me this instant.”

  Every inch of my skin prickled with awareness. It was as if he were standing behind me, instead of just being a heated memory. His breath on my neck. His fingertips running up and down my exposed arms. His mouth on my—holy hell, I needed to stop thinking about him!

  It didn’t take a genius to tell he was the type of man who would bend a girl over a table, flip her skirt up, and pound into her till she screamed in ecstasy, giving her the best sex of her life. But fortunately, I could also tell he was the kind of man who would give a girl a quick caress on the cheek and a seductive wink afterward before he casually walked away, forgetting her name. If he had bothered to remember it in the first place.

  Yep, there was practically a halo of red flags flapping all around him and I was going to stay far, far away. Not that there was ever a chance in hell I’d see him again.

  “Hey! You! Gimme a beer!”

  I glanced at the customer who’d just shouted at me. He was poorly dressed in a stained T-shirt and an incorrectly buttoned flannel. I could practically smell the stale beer on his breath. Usually he wouldn’t have gotten past the front door, but our bouncer was out sick tonight. The assistant manager was paying more attention to a blonde with a big rack than he was to who was strolling into the bar. He was useless.

  I nodded in Flannel Guy’s direction. “One sec.” Then I motioned with my head for my bar back, Timmy, to come over.

  He approached, carrying a trash can full of empty beer bottles and discarded cocktail napkins. “What’s up, Carinna?”

  Reaching for a cocktail shaker, I filled it with ice while I kept my gaze straight ahead. “Grab the GM. I think that guy who just arrived has been overserved. There’s no way I’m giving him a beer.”

  Timmy handed me a bottle of Belvedere Vodka for the martini I was making as he also kept his gaze averted. We knew better than to alert a customer we were discussing them. “The guy in the flannel?”

  I capped the cocktail shaker and held it aloft over my right shoulder as I shook it vigorously while reaching for a martini glass with my left hand. “Yup. That’s the one.”

  “On it.” He held the trash can high as he exited the bar area and made his way to the back of the house to find the general manager.

  It would be my job to keep Flannel Guy calm and occupied until help arrived.

  I placed the martini in front of the woman I was serving and took her credit card to start a tab.

  Flannel Guy slammed his flat palm on the bar. “Hey, bitch! I said I want a beer.”

  I printed out the receipt for the martini and placed it in a pint glass with the credit card and put it on a shelf over the cash register. Ignoring his slur, I kept my voice calm and upbeat. “Sorry for the
wait. I have a few customers ahead of you, sir. It will be just a moment.”

  Where the hell was the manager?

  I filled a rocks glass with ice and snatched the Tanqueray Gin from the back bar. Picking up the soda gun, I hit the tonic button as I counted out an ounce and a half of gin as I poured. After a quick scan of the bar, I realized my cut limes were in a container by Flannel Guy. Damn.

  Dealing with unruly customers was part of the job, but it always made me nervous. Especially when I was dressed like I should be holding a whip and a bottle of lube. Again, I yanked on my leather corset top, pulling it as high over my boobs as I could before I approached that end of the bar. Flannel Guy’s head was turned in the other direction, so the timing was perfect.

  I extended my arm and grabbed the small plastic container of limes. Just as I was making a clean getaway, a steely grip wrapped around my wrist. Before I could react, Flannel Guy jerked hard on my arm. My upper body slammed forward as my stomach crashed into the sharp edge of the bar, knocking the breath out of my lungs. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but nothing came out.

  Terrified, I looked up to see Flannel Guy raise his arm into the air, fist closed. “Bitch, I’m gonna—”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for the punch I knew was coming.

  But no punch came.

  I opened my eyes in time to see Flannel Guy’s head get slammed down onto the bar by a large hand covered in tattoos. Blood gushed from the guy’s now-broken nose. He cried out in pain as he released my wrist.

  I staggered backward to safety. Lifting my head, I opened my mouth to thank my rescuer and froze. For the second time that day, all the breath left my body.

  My gaze clashed with a pair of furious emerald eyes.

  Maxim had found me.

  CHAPTER 2

  Carinna

  The shouts and cries of all the bar patrons receded to nothing more than a dull drumming in the back of my mind as I stared at Maxim.

  He had changed out of his dark Armani suit but still looked intimidating as fuck, dressed in a black cashmere sweater and jeans. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing muscular forearms covered in bright tattoos. They were a macabre collection of skulls, daggers, drops of blood, and religious themes. My gaze then traveled down to his hands, which were also covered in evil-looking ink, as they still pinned drunk Flannel Guy’s face to the bar.

  Seeing the manager approach from over Maxim’s shoulder with a furious scowl on his face, I raised a placating hand. “Stop. You can’t do that!”

  Maxim’s eyes narrowed as his upper lip lifted in a snarl. Ignoring my plea, he twisted his hand in Flannel Guy’s hair and wrenched him upward. Blood flowed from the man’s broken nose down the front of his dirty T-shirt. Maxim then gave the man a ruthless shake. “Apologize to the lady.”

  The man ran his shirtsleeve under his nose, smearing blood across his unshaven cheek. He muttered something unintelligible.

  Choosing to assume the man apologized, I nodded my head vigorously as I waved both hands in front of me. “Fine. It’s fine. I accept your apology.”

  My general manager was now standing behind Maxim. His neck stretched all the way back as he tried to reconcile his small five foot four, slightly pudgy frame to Maxim’s clearly well over six foot frame of hard muscle. Choosing an easier target, his beady eyes swung my way. “Carinna! If you don’t get control of your friend now, you’re fired.”

  Control him?

  The man is like a junkyard dog off his leash.

  How the hell am I supposed to control him?

  Before I could respond to the GM’s threat, Maxim pivoted. Still holding Flannel Guy by the hair like some soiled rag doll, Maxim’s head tilted to the right as he surveyed my GM. One eyebrow lifted. His voice was dark honey as he asked, “Do you want to be next?”

  Despite Maxim’s heavy Russian accent, there was no doubt my manager understood the threat. His mouth opened and closed several times without making a sound. Finally he shook his head, his double chin wobbling with the effort. “No… no.”

  Maxim tightened his grip on Flannel Guy. “If I ever lay eyes on you again, I’ll rip your heart out through your mouth. Do you understand me?”

  The man’s sputtered reply sent droplets of blood flying over the GM’s suit. “Yes! I’m sorry. I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again.”

  Maxim nodded before releasing his grip and allowing the man to stumble over toward the GM. Both men weaved and swayed before being helped by Timmy.

  “You should not have let this garbage into your bar. Take care of it.”

  Both Timmy and my GM struggled to lead Flannel Guy away.

  My relief at the situation being defused was short-lived.

  Maxim turned to face me.

  I took a step back, then another, retreating to the far end of the bar.

  He raised his arm and pointed to the spot in front of him. “Carinna, get over here.”

  With his accent, he rolled the harsh C in my name till it sounded like the purr of a lion. A very dangerous lion who looked like he could swallow me in one bite and not even choke on my bones.

  I snatched up a bar towel and wiped the already clean bar surface near me. “Sorry, I can’t. I have customers,” I called over my shoulder, refusing to make eye contact with him. I raised my chin in a curt nod to the customer nearest me. “What can I get you?”

  The customer looked from me to Maxim and back again. “Nothing. I’m good.”

  Doing everything in my power to try to ignore the pillar of furious rage standing a few feet away, I tried again. “How about you?” I asked, nodding to another nearby customer.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maxim tilt his head to the right in what I was fast learning was a sign of trouble. “Carinna.” His voice held more than a hint of warning.

  I tapped a rapid staccato on the bar with the tips of my fingers. “Come on, buddy. I don’t have all day. What can I get you? A beer? Whiskey? What?”

  Just like the last one, this customer glanced from me to Maxim, before backing away from the bar. One by one my customers drifted away.

  I inhaled deeply through my nose. A vain attempt to gather my courage before turning to face Maxim.

  He had crossed his arms over his chest. His brow lowered as his lips tightened in a thin line. “I am out of patience.”

  Out of patience?

  At what part of this had he been showing patience?

  I twisted the bar towel between my fists. “Look, thanks for your help, but I have to get back to work.”

  Maxim stood near the service entrance to the bar. Keeping his hard gaze on me, he reached down and swung the heavy bar top upward. There was a crash, then the tinkle of broken glass as the bar top slammed against the wall, sending several martini glasses on a nearby shelf crashing to the floor.

  He stepped forward, allowing the bar top to fall back into place with a deafening clatter, caging us both in behind the bar.

  My eyes widened as he approached, knowing there was no escape.

  He placed both hands on the bar on either side of me. He leaned down. The stubble on his jaw brushed my cheek as he whispered into my ear. “In the future, if you make me call your name twice, I will take you over my knee. Do you understand me?”

  I blinked several times. This was the second time today this man had threatened to spank me. The fact my stomach flipped at the thought each time meant there was something seriously wrong with me. Still, that was a thought for later, when I was safe in my bed under the covers with my Kindle. Not now when I was face-to-face with a tattooed monster of a man who seemed to be following me.

  The bar glassware stored just below the bar rattled as I shifted, trying to put at least a few inches between us. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  Without answering my question, he motioned with his hand and ordered, “Get your things. We’re leaving.”

  Both my eyebrows rose as I crossed my arms under my chest. “The hell we are. I’m not go
ing anywhere with you.”

  His eyes sparked viridian fire as they focused on my cleavage.

  With a gasp, I realized my crossed arms had pushed my breasts up till my nipples were practically popping out over the top of the corset. I yanked on my top, trying to pull it as high as I could over my boobs. Stupid corset was going straight into the trash when I got home. I lifted the hand holding the bar towel up to my chest for good measure.

  Maxim wrapped his fingers around my wrist and jerked me against his chest. He then speared his fingers into my hair and pulled my head back, holding it tight so I couldn’t turn away. “You have played the whore long enough tonight. You’re leaving with me. Now.” The last word was ground out through clenched teeth.

  Whore?

  Whore!

  Did he just freaking call me a whore?

  Without a thought for the repercussions, I drew back my free hand and slapped him hard across the cheek.

  Maxim’s head turned to the side as he absorbed the strike. When he turned back to face me, a ghost of a smile teased his lips.

  It was terrifying.

  He leaned down and said nothing for what felt like a full minute. His lips skimmed mine, breathing in my air, like a demon stealing the breath from my body. He opened his mouth and pulled my lower lip in, then sank his sharp teeth into the soft flesh. His hard grip on my head prevented me from pulling away. I whimpered as I tasted the coppery tang of blood.