Drown Me In Sin: A Dark Mafia Romance Part II

Harper Quinn's debut novel, Drown Me in Sin, is available for pre-order on Amazon. You can read the first three chapters here as a teaser.

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Chapter One: Raphael (26 Years Old)

I fucking hate L.A. 

Always have. 

The traffic, the food, the scenery. Even the palm trees are nothing more than rat traps. 

New York may be a cesspool, but it’s home. And I prefer the concrete jungle to this stinking nest of prostitutes and shitty porn. 

Eyeing my phone, I scroll through random apps, pretending to be too engrossed to notice much of anything else. A woman in jean shorts with an impressive pair of fake tits keeps glancing at me, until I make eye contact with her and give her a cold stare that says fuck off. 

As if I’d risk the herpes for a few minutes I’m sure to forget. 

It takes nearly two hours, but I finally spot my mark on his way out of a public gym. The place is nice enough, but he only comes here to see his mistress. If all he was after was a workout, he’d use the facility closer to his exorbitant mansion. 

New money. 

Dad would scoff, and probably add a lecture about propriety. I don’t give a shit who’s name you’re carrying, but I can see his point. Jesse spends money like the world is about to end, and frankly, it’s embarrassing.

Seventy-two hours and I’ve learned all I need to know about him, including his favorite coffee order and the brand of underwear he buys. 

Tucking my phone in my pocket, I follow him on foot, knowing his routine better than he does. He smiles at the little blonde girl who gives him his coffee, tucking a single bill into her tip jar as if he just gave her a winning lottery ticket. 

“Have a nice day.” She smiles at him sweetly, too young and too naive to know he’d fuck her life up. But she’s not my problem. 

It’s amazing how easy it is to erase a person. We think of ourselves as complex beings, each with our own unique motivations and souls. Impossible to understand and completely irreplaceable. But a few hours from now, it will be as if Jesse never existed. 

Fact is, we’re all replaceable. Someday I’ll be too old to do this kind of shit, and the next promising young prick will do me in, too. 

As soon as he rounds the corner where I know his car is waiting, I pick up the pace. I chose this spot myself because it has so little foot traffic, but it wasn’t easy to arrange a full street at the gym. He fumbles for his keys in his pocket, and I sweep up behind him, jamming the needle in his neck before he can make a sound.

The bastard weighs at least two fifty, but I manage to shove him in the back seat before anyone sees us. Then I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, whistling while I drive his car away. 

He’s disoriented when he comes to, which is to be expected. I sit across from him, straddling the backward chair with my arms propped up on the back. “Good morning, sunshine.” 

It takes a second for his eyes to adjust, and then he’s fighting the restraints—not smart, given that I’ve zip-tied his wrists and ankles to the legs of the chair. All he manages to do is tighten their hold and use up the energy he’s going to need later. “Who the fuck are you?” 

Ignoring his question, I stand from the chair and pull his Glock from my waistband, dropping out the magazine and tossing it aside. He fights the restraints again at the sight of his gun, and I smile. “Did you enjoy Maui?” 

He thrashes in the chair again, his chest beginning to heave as he tries to keep me in his field of vision when I circle him.

“Untie me right now, you little bitch! Or I’ll fucking kill you,” he spits. 

I drop his empty gun on the metal table and roll up my shirt sleeves to my elbows. “That’ll be hard, from your position.” I’m playing with him, and we both know it. The only difference is, I’m enjoying myself. 

“Who sent you?” he asks, already sounding panicked. Shame. I was hoping he’d put up more of a fight. 

Leisurely, making sure he has plenty of time to sit in silence, I make my way back to his chair. He’s about to open his mouth when my fist hits it, shutting him up. “I asked you a question, Jesse.” 

He spits blood on the floor and glares up at me. “I’ve never been to Maui.” 

Making a “tsk” sound, I look down at him, eyes narrowed. “Let’s not lie to each other, Jesse.” This time I deliver a body shot.

“Look, man, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He struggles to get the words out, hunched over in the chair. 

Grabbing a handful of his hair, I yank his head up and look him in the eye, cocking my head. “You’re a shit liar.” His pulse is racing, eyes wild while he tries to figure a way out of this.

Reaching for the Smith & Wesson knife in my pocket, I use it to cut his shirt down the middle before touching the blade to his throat. “You know, a person can lose up to four liters of blood before it kills them. Should we see how long it takes you?”

He leans back in the chair, trying to distance himself from the blade, and I dig the tip into his chest, just hard enough to draw some blood. “Fuck you!” he screams, thrashing wildly in the chair until the legs come off the ground. 

I remain still, inspecting him with the knife still pressed against his chest. “You have a gambling problem.” Before he can say another word, I slice into his right thigh, carving a thin line from his hip to his knee. He wails, fists clenching, and I know he’d like to wring my neck. 

Part of me wants to untie him, just for the thrill of it. 

“Tell me what I want to know.” 

He’s breathing heavy, blood dripping to the ground beneath him. I didn’t damage any major arteries—can’t have him bleeding out on me before I get what I need. 

“Did Eli send you? Tell that fat bastard he can come find me his fucking self.”

Warmer. 

“Tell me. Is there any money left? Some safety deposit box you can point me to? Maybe we can work out a payment plan.” I clean off the knife on his torn shirt, tracing the blade down the side of his face. 

There’s no harm in answering his questions at this point. But I don’t want him to have any sense of comfort - even in the form of information.

“Go fuck yourself.” He’s slumped in the chair now, exhausted from fighting the restraints, not to mention the blood loss. I could always kneecap him, but it feels a little stereotypical. Instead, I draw a line with the knife down his chest, from his collarbone to his stomach. 

Another superficial wound—nothing a few dozen stitches couldn’t repair. But his skin is getting clammy and his forehead is beginning to drip. Checking my watch, I see I’ve got less than thirty minutes until Maverick gets here.

“Tick tock, Jesse. There’s no reason we can’t be civilized about this.” I’m a patient man, but the sooner this is over, the sooner I can go home.

His injured leg is shaking, but he makes no effort to speak until I ready the knife to stab his good one. “Christ! What do you want?”

Smiling at him, I reach for the chair I was sitting in earlier and push it in front of him, straddling it once again. “See? Isn’t it nicer to talk like adults?” He’s a coward. This is all it takes to get him to roll? I can honestly say I’m disappointed.

He glares at me, dried blood on his face from where I hit him and a slight but steady stream rolling down his chest. “There’s a bank account.” 

“Caymans?” 

“No.” He shakes his head, trying to get his eyes to focus. I imagine he’s feeling lightheaded by now. “Switzerland.” 

Nodding, I wipe the knife on his shorts and tuck the blade away. “I always liked the Swiss.” Bringing out his phone, which I already broke into while he was unconscious, I hold up the account for him to see. “This the one?” 

He looks pissed. 

I would be too, after finding out this was all for show. But I had my orders.

“Thanks, Jesse. I just have one more question.” Standing, I pocket the knife and take his photo with his phone, sending it straight to my contact. The second I see the thumbs up in response, I pocket the phone as well. “How was she?” 

His brown eyes are unfocused, breathing shallow. “Who?”

“Don’t quit on me now. You were doing so well.” 

He shakes his head, trying to keep it upright. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”

Kicking my chair out of the way, I smirk when he flinches at the noise. “Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier.” He looks at me, sweat dripping down his face, too tired to do anything but wait for me to continue. 

Gripping his chin in my hand, I force him to make eye contact. “My name is Raphael.” 

It takes a second for it to sink in. 

And then his pupils dilate, he sits up straight as if he’s been electrocuted, and his body thrashes. “Fuck, man. I’m sorry! She started it. S-She started it. I didn’t mean to, I swear. I’ll tell you where she is!” 

The motherfucker is crying, yanking on the zip ties until his wrists are bleeding. Pathetic, just like I knew he would be.

“She’s dead, Jesse.” 

He’s absolutely feral—spit flying from his mouth when he starts begging. “Please. Please, I’ll do anything! I know people. I’ll do whatever you want.” 

“The thing is Jesse,” I start, readying my supplies behind his back at the steel table, letting him sweat, “I’m not the guy they send when they want to bargain.” Coming back to kneel in front of him, I tie a thick strip of rubber above his elbow and hold his arm still. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” he cries, struggling in my grip. He’s lost so much blood, it won’t be long now. But I made a promise—and I’m nothing if not a man of my word. 

Slowly, meticulously, I insert the needle in his forearm, pressing down the plunger so he can see. “Do you know what it’s like to overdose on heroin?”

“I’m sorry,” he moans, crying and struggling even after I’m done with the needle. Snot pours from his nose and he screams for help until his throat is raw and raspy.

I lean against the table, arms folded and one leg crossed over the other while I watch the show. 

Within a few minutes, his body goes limp and his eyes roll back, pupils so small they’re hardly visible. By the time the choking starts, I know he can’t hear me anymore. I walk back to the table and lean against it, checking my phone when I feel it buzz.

If you like this story, please do me a favor and pre-order the full book on Amazon! Click here to see the book listed. I can't wait to bring you the full story! - Harper