Riding Dirty: Luciotti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) - Kara Hart

Riding Dirty: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Luciotti Crime Family)



There’s nothing I wouldn’t do. Pain and suffering were just words. I had spent years in the Luciotti district. I had given my life to the family, bowed my head and knelt on one knee. I spilled my blood for their approval. They lit the paper effigy and made me swear on my life. The only people that mattered in my world after that were those that claimed the family name. And if you pissed those people off, you dealt with me.

I looked out the back mirror of my white van. He was right there, in front of the tan colored house with the white-picket fence. I waited for close to two days, just sitting in this van, hoping someone would be stupid enough to come out and analyze the scene. Well here I am, buddy. Ready to make your day.

“Julian McCallister?” I asked the man, rolling down my window. The man starts to run. Yep, already showing off his guilt. Sad sack.

I jumped out of the van and ran at full speed. Lucky for me, he’s yelled to his buddies that I’m on the premises.

“He’s here! He’s here!” He cried out, amongst his own hurried footsteps.

“Fuck off. Nice joke,” one of the guys said. How anyone could think I was a joke escaped me. And when they saw the other end of the barrel, they saw things a bit differently.

I stalked toward the voices, gripping my pistol. With practiced ease, I took the silencer from my pocket and screwed it on. The neighborhood was empty, but no need to make more of a scene than we already had. An American dressed in a black running suit was assumed either CIA or FBI by the Spaniards. Fun fact: I’m worse than both combined.

The guy continued yelling, although I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t run faster. Didn’t he know I came to kill him?

“I am your angel of death,” I announced in the hallway. “Come into my arms.”

“Shit! Who is that?” Another voice called out.

“I’m your new friend,” I said, outstretching both hands, gripping the pistol.

I slid from the corner of the hallway into the living room and found my man. He fumbled at the back door, attempting to unlock the five latches that kept the place “secure.” I opened fire. One shot in the back shoulder, so he couldn’t fire at me if he tried, two in each leg, and one in the ass for good measure.

“Alright, you sons of bitches,” I called out. “Everyone to the back wall, now! Hands where I can fucking see them.” I loved this part. This was the part where I announced I was going to make them suffer and seize all their property. And if they didn’t pay up in one week, there would be worse repercussions. Weird thing was, they almost never paid on time. And when they didn’t, there was over a thousand excuses for why.

“I’ll pay,” he whispered, tears falling from his eyes. “I was just about to go to the bank, I promise you!”

“That’s why you were tip-toeing on your lawn?” I asked him, setting my gun on the table in the middle of the room. I stretched my arms and took off my jacket. “It’s hot in here. Don’t you have A/C?”

“I was going, I swear.” He pleaded.

I laughed and sat down, propping my black boots up on the seat in front of me. “Look, spare me the details. We all know you weren’t going anywhere. You came outside to look for me, the boogeyman. Well, you’ve found me. You only get three wishes.” I smiled and pulled out a small bat, big enough to be palmed. Then I pulled out a sharp knife with a corroded blade and a pair of clippers.

“What shall it be gentleman? Three wishes, three choices. Pick your poison.” I kept my gaze on them.

“God dammit, Julian. You didn’t pay the guy?” One of his friends asked him, panic written on his face. “Sir, we didn’t really play any part in his bullshit. We would never do anything to disrespect you, so can we please go home? We won’t tell an—”

I waved for him to shut the fuck up. “Did you shoot up any of that junk into your veins? Better yet, did you even look at those bags he picked up?”

The guy slowly and innocently shook his head. “So you really have no idea what I’m here for?” I asked him. He knew