The Darkest King: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Dark Kings of NYC Book 1)

Connor has his hand on the small of my back, directing me through the Barrett Enterprise offices. There are dozens of eyes watching us.

Watching me.

Mack congratulates us, glancing at the rock on my finger. I don’t know if he’s aware of the truth or not. I will have to ask Connor when we have a private moment alone.

I suspect he does.

Connor pushes open the door to his office, greeting his secretary. “Morning, Lilly. This is Mia.”

A mid-thirties woman in a tailored navy dress stands and greets me. She’s very pretty, with shoulder-length blonde hair and perfectly painted nails.

Very corporate.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mia. And congratulations.” She sounds genuine and glances at the Rock of Gibraltar, as I’ve named my enormous ring.

It’s impossible to miss and likely worth more than some people’s condos. The sparkle in the bathroom light is the most stunning thing in the world. Connor caught me playing with it this morning and made a strange growling noise.

I feel guilty making him do this, but he is committed, and today, we’re going public, so there’s no turning back.

My phone is full of upset messages from Cade, my aunties, and one from my father. They’ve asked me to come home and hold off on making the announcement, but I told them it had to happen because of Connor’s profile. Keeping our relationship a secret would be impossible and create rumors that would simply be a distraction from the important work he is doing at Barrett Enterprises.

A line Connor fed me and I’m passing on.

“Thank you,” I reply to Lilly, giving her a smile.

Connor leads me inside his office. “Send Tim in when he arrives,” he calls out to Lilly, then removes his jacket.

I try to keep my eyes off him, which is the opposite of what I should be doing, given he’s my fiancé, but Lord, it’s difficult. The man is sex on two legs.

When he walked downstairs earlier this morning while I was eating my bowl of cereal on the kitchen bench, I nearly choked. Connor Barrett, freshly showered and in a fitted Tom Ford gray suit, is a piece of art.

It didn’t help I was still processing that near kiss. He left me hanging, and while I know this is fake, it still filled my stomach with stupid lusting butterflies.

I’m a little embarrassed at how much I desire Connor, when it’s clear this is just a sexual contract to him. Yet when he demanded my consent last night, I realized he’s not the cold, hard asshole he presents to the world.

It’s something I’m still processing.

Still, I know he’s powerful and holds all the cards here. I’m not stupid.

Introducing him to my family on Thursday is going to be terrifying. So many things could go wrong, and I don’t know how they are going to react to him.

Connor, on the other hand, is cool as a cucumber.

I walk to the window and stare out across Manhattan. I am worried about so many things. My friendship with Sienna, losing my family, how I will achieve independence…I feel like I’m flying on an out-of-control magic carpet which needs a tune-up.

Or top-up in magic.

I feel Connor’s body behind mine, his hands on my hips. Without thinking, I lean back into him as his arms wrap around me.

Wait. Are the cameras here?

“Bet you regret spilling that drink on me now.” His voice is low, and his breath sends shivers down my neck.

Do I? It is hard to think around this man. I turn my face to his, waiting for him to claim my lips. He smiles and moves away.

What the hell?

He’s making me dizzy.

“Tim. Meet Mia,” Connor says, his dark eyes sparkling at my response. Then he turns. “My public relations manager.

I park my reaction and smile at Tim.

He’s everything you’d expect a corporate media person to be. Expensive suit, curly styled hair, and cool glasses. As he walks toward me, I spot quirky socks under his pants.

“Mia, nice to meet you.” Tim extends his hand. We shake, and he walks to the round table a few feet away, places his tablet down, and slides his hands into his pockets.

Then he studies me.

“First question. Are you media trained?”

Connor walks to his desk and begins to tap at his laptop.

“No,” I reply.

Tim nods and continues studying me. “That could be a good thing. They’re going to ask a lot of questions, mostly for Connor, so let him do the talking. But they’ll want something from you.”

“I want you to manage that closely,” Connor says, and I watch him lean back in his huge black executive chair, looking as powerful as any man can.

Perhaps more.

His tattoo may be covered, but I know it’s there, and the edge it gives him is different to the powerhouse he presents himself as here in his billion-dollar empire.

Which in and of itself is sexy as fuck.

“On that. Let’s discuss what you are willing to discuss.” Tim lifts his tablet and taps on the screen. “The obvious questions will be about your relationship, but they’ll be curious about your family, Mia.”

My eyes dart between the two men. “I can’t speak about my family.”

The media, government, and police are our enemies. At least, that’s what I was told as I was growing up.

“Be generic. Something along the lines of, ‘Both Connor and I are looking forward to blending our families.’” Tim lifts a shoulder as if it is no big deal.

It is.

And I have no idea about Connor’s family.

We hardly know each other. From what I have read, he is an orphan. Yet, he seems to have thrived anyway and made his place in the world with outstanding success.

“Mr. Barrett, I have your cards.” Lilly walks over to his desk and hands him an envelope.

“Thank you,” Connor replies, ripping it open. “Let us know when the media arrive.” He briefly lifts his eyes to Tim. “I need a private moment with Mia.”

Tim nods and glances at his watch as he walks to the door. “Ten minutes.”

My stomach lurches. Soon the world will know who I am. Soon they’ll believe I am Connor Barrett’s fiancé, and our plan will be locked in place.

Holy shit. Am I doing the right thing?

As the door closes and we find ourselves alone once more, I turn.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” I begin as Connor walks over to me. “I’ll figure out another way. I’ll…”

I’ll do what?

Where would I live? I’d have to go home, and the first thing they’d do is marry me off to that creep, Salvo Vitale.

The thought makes me feel nauseous.

“We are doing this, Mia.” Connor hands me two plastic cards. “These are yours.”

I glance down at the black credit cards and swallow.

You can do this.

“You’ll need to act the part, dress the part, and spend the part,” Connor says. “Update your wardrobe and ensure you have outfits to attend events and dates with your fiancé. We’ll be photographed together, and the media will want to know who you are wearing and all that bullshit. Make sure you know.”

I can do that.

I’m not a stranger to designer clothing. I came from money—dirty money. Most of my more expensive outfits are still in my wardrobe at the Mancini residence because they aren’t suitable for my current life as Mia, the events coordinator.

Now I am engaged to a billionaire.

It already feels like my old life is fading away, but I have to make sure it doesn’t. I am happy. I love my friends, and Sienna is important to me.

She is not mad at me about being a gangster’s daughter—like I had a choice—or rather that I didn’t tell her. Sienna was curious and asked questions, but I could sense she felt there were more lies hidden. She is right.

But what upsets me more than anything is the way she now looks at me.

Like she doesn’t know me.

It hurts.

She is the one person who knows me more than anyone now my mom has passed.

Will being a mafia princess and marrying one of the most powerful men in America—unexpectedly—make me so unrelatable now?

Fine, it sounds ridiculous to me as well.

Six months and then this will be over. I just need everything to go to plan. Engagement. Marriage. Inheritance.

Then divorce and I’ll have my freedom.

I slide the cards into my purse. “How much is on them?”

“Don’t worry, you won’t run out of money,” Connor responds. The corner of his lips twitch. “Give it your best shot, though.”

“I could buy an island,” I challenge him. Playful Connor is sexy as hell, so I am totally encouraging it. I mean, if I have to spend months with the man, it is worth having fun with him.

Maybe we can be friends as well as lovers.

“Not sure they take American Express at the Buy an Island Shop. But you can try.” Connor grabs his jacket back off the hanger and slips it on, his eyes sliding down my body.

I’m wearing a Gucci sleeveless black jumpsuit clinched with a silver belt, my long dark hair straightened and lips a glossy rose pink. My lashes are dark and long after three coats, and I chose my stupidly expensive Chanel pumps for the occasion.

Classy and stylish.

The media will have to dig deep to find anything at fault with this outfit.

“What?” I ask, jutting out a hip when Connor keeps staring.

He closes the distance and pulls me to him. “I never told you how ravishing you look today, my beautiful fiancé.”

Huh?

What is he up to?

Those dark chocolate eyes of his lock me in place, and suddenly, I’m wishing this gorgeous man truly wanted me.

Stupid.

But the way he holds me, touches me, watches me…He’s intoxicating. I challenge any woman to ignore this man’s brazen sexual masculinity.

“Well, then, maybe you should kiss me,” I say.

We stare at each other for a long moment, and when I think he’s going to finally drop his mouth to mine, he steps away.

“Come,” Connor says, leading me out of the room.

Damn this man.

CONNOR

“HOW LONG HAVE you been dating Ms. Mancini?” the reporter from the New York Times asks.

Predictable questions so far.

“Long enough to know I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Next question,” I reply, my hand resting on Mia’s hip. She’s tucked up against me, and I can feel the tension in her body.

She’s nervous.

Tim’s team has set up our huge conference room, and all the top media in the city are here with cameras and their microphones. It’s a daunting scene for someone not used to being in the public spotlight.

She has nothing to worry about. I could do this in my sleep.

“Claire,” I say, nodding to the dark woman in the front row. I know them all by name, given most of them follow me around or have attended every press conference I have given over the years.

“Will you share your proposal story with us?” She smiles cheekily.

Yawn.

“No,” I reply, glancing at the next raised arm. “Roger.”

“When’s the wedding? Will you have a long engagement or marry fast?” he asks.

Roger wants to know if Mia is pregnant. I glance down at her, smiling. I predicted this, and this is the one response we’ve planned.

The floor is yours, gorgeous.

Because, fuck, she is absolutely stunning, and her vulnerability only makes me want to protect her more.

In three, two, one…

“We’ve yet to set a date. Once we speak to our families, we’ll decide,” Mia answers, smiling back at me, then out to the cameras.

Perfect.

“Teresa.” I nod at the woman in the second row.

I give Mia a little squeeze. She’ll get my cock later for that incredible performance.

“How will you ensure there’s no mafia influence in your business now you’re associated with one of the most notorious mob families in America?”

My jaw tenses. Despite expecting this, it still fucks me off.

“This is a marriage, not a business merger. Not Mia, nor any of her family members, will be working with, or for, Barrett Enterprises. Last question. Vicki.”

“Has Barrett Enterprises been working with the Italian mafia previously? Is that how you met?” the small-framed older woman asks.

Sneaky bitch.

“I—”

“Our meeting was completely random,” Mia says, cutting me off and placing a warm hand on my chest.

My hand lands on hers as she lifts her face to mine.

What is she doing?

“I poured a drink down the front of him, and he was furious,” Mia continues, and oh my fucking God, she’s terrific. “And now I’m marrying the most amazing man in the world.”

Jesus.

Why does that make my chest swell?

The world around us disappears, and the need to kiss her overtakes every nerve in my body. I lose complete control of my mind and turn to her. Mia stretches up onto her toes as I cup her jaw.

I’m aware the cameras are clicking like mad, but I don’t give a fuck. All I care about is claiming those glossy lips.

Keep it family friendly, Barrett.

My mouth lowers to hers, and as a white-hot need spreads through me, I kiss her hard, taking all the sweetness she’ll give me.

Holy hell.

I release her mouth, my eyes never leaving hers, and I see the same surprise I know she sees in mine. That was more than lust. And we need to keep it bottled up.

There is no room for emotions in this arrangement.

None.