Wicked Angel by Lucy Smoke and AJ Macey

 If he wants my hand in marriage, then he’ll have to fight me for it.

Wicked Angel, an all-new dark mafia, arranged marriage, age-gap, standalone romance, and the first book in the Sinister Arrangement Series from USA Today bestselling authors Lucy Smoke and AJ Macey is available now!

He’s a blood stained monster, but one look at her and he knows … she will be his.

Gaven Belmonte is a cold-hearted killer. A hitman. Now, he’s my jailer.

Even though he’s twice my age, I’m being forced into an arranged marriage to secure Gaven’s position as the next head of the Price Family Syndicate.

Marriage or war?

Pain or Pleasure?

Murder or love?

It doesn’t matter that Gaven makes me burn for him. I’m simply a means to an end, a pawn for him to gain everything he’s ever wanted. Well, I won’t let this be my end. I’ll take back control.

If he wants my hand in marriage, then he’ll have to fight me for it.

Start reading today!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/3rakz34

Amazon Worldwide: https://mybook.to/wickedangellucysajm

“Raff.” I leaned back against the chair as my frown deepened. “All this talk of marriage and heirs. Please explain what this has to do with—” It hit me, causing me to cut off my own words even as I spoke them. “You want me to marry into your family and take over the place of heir.” It’s not a question, but a statement, and a damned shocking one at that. A smile stretched his wide face. “Like, I said, you’re far from stupid, Gaven,” Raff replied with a nod. “Yes.”He straightened in his wingback chair and folded his hands over the surface of his oak desk. “I intend to offer you just that.” “What about your current lieutenants? I’m sure they’d be pretty pissed to find out the organization is being handed over to a stranger,” I countered, relaxing back into the cushions of the chair. “I don’t exactly want—or need—any more enemies gunning for me.” “They’re devoted to the Price Syndicate,” he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Their families have been a part of our organization for generations, so they’re well versed in how the head of the family is passed down when no heir has been born.” “Mhmm,” I murmured skeptically, “and what makes you think I want to be the next head of the Price Family?” “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that men in your line of work, or rather, our line of work tend to find themselves in an early grave, Gaven. You’ve surpassed the typical lifespan of a contract killer—no doubt because of your skillset. The question is: do you want to continue to live your solitary lifestyle? Worried that at any given point you could be next on the chopping block?”There was a pregnant pause before he finished the open-ended questioning. “Or do you want power?” That was an easy question to answer. I wanted fucking power. In this business, however, it was dangerous to reveal your cards too soon. So, I schooled my face as I dragged a hand down my jaw. Wearing a mask was a means of survival, even among friends. I stared back at my old friend and considered his question a bit more carefully before answering. The fact was, I enjoyed my work, but I couldn’t deny that he was right. The life of a hitman was short-lived in comparison to the average person and I wanted a change. Taking on a Syndicate was a once in a lifetime opportunity. From all of my contracts, I was rich, but the Price Family …they were the kind of wealth that shot first and didn’t question whether they’d be able to buy their way out. It wasn’t a safer life, but I would be insane not to realize the benefits of accepting it. “What if I decline your offer?” Raff’s eyes narrowed on me. He knew what I was truly asking. He wouldn’t have asked me here, brought me in, and practically slapped adoption papers in front of me despite my age if it weren’t for the sheer fact that he knows I’m not going to say no. However, if I did…well, he wouldn’t want it to get out that he was looking for an heir to marry one of his daughters. There was no gain without loss, and I was anxious to know the specific details of this position. As he said, there was always a price. “I don’t think we need to go into those specifics, Gaven, you’re smart enough to know what the potential downsides are.” Raff’s rough chuckle filled the room as he gestured to my expression. “And regardless of your expression, I know you. You’re as ambitious as they come.” “So astute,” I muttered with a shake of my head, earning another laugh from Raff. “There’s only one thing you would need to do.” He reached into the top drawer of his desk. When he pulled two pictures and laid them out for me to see, I stood and leaned over to scan them. “My daughters—Jacquelina and Evangeline,” he said, pointing to the corresponding portrait with each name. “You would only need to choose one.” A wife, I mused, is not something I ever thought I’d have. A wife such as the one that Raff, himself, had was one that I wouldn’t tolerate. These girls, whichever one ended up being the pawn, needed to understand that if we were to wed—things would be vastly different from their parents. If I was to become the head of a family, I refused to have a weakness. Even if it meant strapping one of them with a lifetime shackled to me in misery. The first, labeled in clear black letters at the top—Jacquelina—was darker in both complexion and hair. She clearly resembled her father. It was as if I was looking into a strange warped image of the man in front of me. Still, though, she was feminine in her own way, with a slender figure and hooded eyes. She was the older of the two, with a mature face and expression, but there was an iciness to her smile that gave me pause. She would likely make for a powerful ally, but a wife? Dangerous. It was a well-known fact that keeping your friends close was a good tactic, but keeping your enemies closer would keep you alive. This woman would not be easily malleable. She was far too much of a risk. I knew the kind of look she exhibited. I’d seen it countless times, in prostitutes, escorts, and other mafia women. There was nothing but a serpent slithering around underneath her skin. One wrong move and she’d unhinge her jaw and attempt to swallow me whole—and it wouldn’t do to kill my own wife. I may not want to love her, but I would respect the hell out of the protection part of our vows as any man who laid claim to a woman should. Too bad, really. I recognized a bit of myself in Jacquelina. She had the expression of someone who understood pride and greed. Someone who was more than willing to use herself to get what she wanted. I turned my interest to the second image, pushing Jacquelina’s away as I pulled it closer to me and examined the photograph. Raff’s youngest daughter, Evangeline. The murky memory of a young girl with soft, dirty blonde hair, several shades lighter than her sister’s, and big eyes resurfaces. I lifted the photograph and brought it closer. Even as I do so, though, I could practically feel Raff’s interest. If I had to guess, I would bet he’s banking on me being more interested in Evangeline. In the image, she was older than she was the last time I met her at her mother’s funeral. In this picture, she was far more to my taste. While some sick fucks craved young girls, that never was and never would be my preference. The Evangeline in this photograph no longer resembled a child. Instead, she had the look of a young woman. Soft, rounded cheeks and pink, parted lips. Her eyes glittered even in the still image. Unlike her elder sister, Evangeline had no such calculating look in her eyes. Instead, they were wide and round ovals of purity, albeit a little mischievous. The slight quirk in the corner of her lip as if she were holding back a smirk makes me want to know what’s happening in her mind. Big, luminous, hazel eyes that begged a man to take her under his protection, under his command. She was far too innocent for a man such as myself. Still, I would have her. If Raff bet on his youngest then he would be right. Evangeline would be the perfect bride. Young. Innocent. Easy to please and ship off. I’d ply her with treats and gifts and then keep her tucked away. She would be simple to use or, even better, to control. In fact, the longer I stare at her picture, the easier it is to imagine what she’d be like under my flogger. Pretty red ropes wrapped around her pale skin. Cuffs holding her arms behind her back, forcing her to thrust her breasts up for my pleasure. Oh, yes. I enjoyed that image. Making her mine would be an exercise in satisfaction. Then, once I put a child in her belly, my reign would be solidified. “Well?” Raff’s voice brought me back from my thoughts. “What do you think? Will either of my daughters entice you to make an old man happy?”

Learn more about Lucy Smoke, AJ Macey, and their releases by visiting their websites:

https://www.lucysmoke.com

https://www.authorajmacey.com