Sinful Hearts: A Dark Mafia Enemies To Lovers Romance
Sinful Hearts: Chapter 24

“Ahh, Mr. Drakos.”

Serj Mirzoyan hauls himself to his feet from the couch in the office of his lavish Bronx mansion, grinning at me.

“Come, come. Please, sit.”

The gruff-looking man in the suit who led me here from the front door nods at his boss, and closes the door to the office on his way out.

Serj is a big, bruiser type—the kind of guy who built his empire out of brutality and by chopping hands off his enemies. And it shows. He’s got the cauliflower ears of a street fighter, the scarred face of a man who’s gone to war a couple of times, and the wealth and power of a man who’s not only won those wars but crushed his enemies.

All that said, he’s extremely charming. At least, right now he is. I’ve only met him maybe once before, just in passing, so I have no idea. But I have the feeling I’m getting a little bit of a red carpet rolled out for me.

He strides over and takes my hand, giving it an almost ridiculously firm shake as he grins.

“A drink, yes?”

“That would be great, thank you, Mr. Mirzoyan.”

“Please. My friends call me Serj.”

“Are we friends, then?”

He glances over his shoulder at me from the bar cart. “I would very much like that, Mr. Drakos.”

“Then it’s just Hades, Serj.”

He chuckles, bringing me a glass of something clear, and I hide my smile. I can smell the anise from three feet away.

Yeah… If he’s pouring traditional Greek ouzo for me, he’s rolling out the red carpet. And I’m suddenly wondering if maybe Gavan’s gotten bored of this ongoing battle over Serj’s empire and has backed off. It would certainly explain Serj cuddling up to me.

He clinks his glass to mine.

“Gëzuar.”

“Stin yit mas.”

We drink, and he nods. “To a wonderful future, and to burying whatever bad blood there was between our families. It lies in the past, yes?”

Maybe Serj really is over the fact that my father killed his, something like thirty years ago. Maybe he’s not. Either way, money talks.

And a hundred and fifty million fucking yells.

“I know things have dragged on perhaps a little longer than you would have liked with your family’s purchase of my business. But I need to do what is best for my children and their future. This, I hope you can understand.”

“You want to get the most money possible, of course.” I grin. “Yes, I can completely understand that. Money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure covers up a lot of bullshit.”

Serj chuckles, clinking his glass to mine. “Exactly. I was just telling my good friend—”

The door to the study bangs open loudly. When I turn, I cock a brow as I lay eyes on Melik, Serj’s douchebag of a son.

“What the fuck is he doing here, Papa?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I mean, yes, as I understand it, Serj’s decision to sell his empire rather than pass it down to his kids hasn’t gone over so well with either of them. But this isn’t just Melik being pissed about that. He’s always this much of a prick.

I know Melik and Vanya from Harvard—Melik was in my grade, and Vanya was two years younger. Their father is an immigrant with lots of money, so of course, he sent them to the flashiest, most prestigious school he could.

Vanya actually managed to graduate. Melik got kicked out for literally never going to class. And assaulting a professor. And driving his G-wagon into the side of an administration building while he was drunk. And selling coke. And…well, just basically being a trust fund douchebag pretending to be gangster.

He’s somehow both a coward and a hothead, and Serj is wise to sell his empire rather than leave it to him. If he thinks his empire would last two weeks under Melik’s guidance, he’s being generous.

I mean the dude put out a rap album three years ago under the name “Pussy Slayer”, without a shred of irony or satire involved. That tells you everything you need to know about Melik Mirzoyan right fucking there.

“Hesht!” Serj snaps at his son, glaring at him. “He is our guest, Melik.”

“He’s a fucking invader, is what he is.” He pulls his contemptuous gaze to me. “You have no business in my home, Drakos.”

I smile politely. “How’s the rap industry these days, Melik?”

He scowls. “The game is rigged. Thanks to the Jews.”

Right. Right. There’s also the fun little fact that Melik is a raging neo-Nazi fuckwad. So that’s a nice cherry on top of the whole steaming pile of shit that he already is.

“We’ve talked about this, Melik,” Serj chides his son. “The Drakos family has made a generous offer—”

“To pillage what is rightfully mine!” he spits. “Barbarians at the fucking gates—”

“Melik!”

Even I flinch at the booming sound of Serj dropping his “civilized rich guy with the big house” act and revealing the street-brawler hiding underneath.

“You will leave us,” he snarls at his son. “Now.”

Melik glares at me, muttering something in Albanian before he whirls on his heel and storms out of the room.

Serj sighs heavily. “You have my sincere apologies, Hades.”

“It’s not a problem.” I shrug. “I sometimes have that effect on people.”

“He’s upset about the direction I’ve chosen to go. Please, forgive him.”

“Of course, Serj.”

Fuck off, Melik.

“And he’s angry about a girl. There was a marriage proposal recently concerning the daughter of a would-be ally that…” Serj’s brow furrows.” Well, is no longer favorable to a traditional man like my son.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of other fish in the sea for a man like Melik.”

The older Mirzoyan pointedly clears his throat. “Yes, well. Anyway, I wanted you to come here today, because I wanted to ask a favor of you.”

He wants me to bring Vanya to this fucking gala tomorrow. I already know this. He already knows I know this. But Serj is so old school that we’re going to do this whole “allow me the honor of taking your daughter to the dance” bullshit routine. Whatever.

“Anything I can do, Serj.”

He nods. “The Crown and Black gala tomorrow evening. I do some business with Gabriel Black, and as such, I’ve received an invitation. Unfortunately, I have a work engagement. But it would break my daughter’s heart not to go. She so loves these things.”

I smile benignly, grinding my teeth on the inside.

“Would you do me the honor of taking her as your date? She’d be over the moon to walk in there on your arm, my friend.”

In every other situation but this one, I would say no.

I somehow got through four years of Harvard almost perpetually drunk or fucked up on coke, which I don’t touch anymore. There’s a lot of those four years I don’t remember as anything more than a haze.

But I remember Vanya.

Back then, the image I had of Vanya Mirzoyan was that of a fairly vapid, hard-partying trust fund mob-princess type. I sort of remember her trying to get with me a few times, and me saying no every time.

But I absolutely remember the time she cornered me, when I was too drunk to say no, even if every cell in my body was screaming it.

I don’t get drunk out of my mind and have sex, because I fucking despise it. It brings back all of those dark memories from when I was younger.

I was beyond wasted the night Vanya shoved me into a dark bedroom at a party and tried to blow me. I was so drunk and so petrified by the flashbacks that I sort of lay back and just let it happen until I simply couldn’t take it anymore. I finally bolted from the room, and we’ve never spoken since.

So, no, escorting her to a fucking gala isn’t exactly high on my wish list.

But the other reason, for reasons I’m not sure I’m even ready to think about, is that Elsa will be there too. She’ll be there, and she’ll watch me walk in with some other woman.

And I have a feeling that’s not going to go over very well.

I might be possessive as fuck, probably to a psycho degree. Frankly, I’m surprised hasn’t scared her off yet. But she’s got that streak too. I’ve seen it in her eyes when the subject of me with other women, or my past, has come up.

But I’m stuck. I can’t actually say no to Serj. Because this “favor” is clearly part of our deal. And there’s way too much money on the table for me to let my own shit get in the way of my family’s success.

“I’d be honored to take her, Serj.”

He beams widely, clapping me heartily on the shoulder.

“Excellent, my friend. Excellent. She’s here right now, actually. Would you like to talk details about tomorrow? Maybe you could coordinate your tie to her dress or something. I don’t know how these things work.”

“Well, I’m sure she and I can speak on the phone—”

Nope. Serj marches right past me, flings open the door, and bellows.

“VANYA!”

He turns to smile at me. I hear the sound of heels clicking on marble floors as she approaches, and suddenly, Serj’s daughter walks in, dark hair billowing around her like a villain’s cloak. She gives me a polished, practiced smile.

“Hades. So good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” I mutter.

Serj beams. “Well, I’ll let you two discuss. Hades, my thanks again.”

I nod as he steps out and closes the door. Then, we’re alone.

Vanya sighs, her shoulders relaxing a hair as she wanders over to the bar cart and pours herself a vodka.

“So, it looks like you’re my date for tomorrow,” she says dryly.

“Great,” I growl.

She sighs, cocking her hip as she eyes me. “Look, I know you don’t like me very much, Hades.”

I snort. “I wonder why.”

She shrugs. “I…actually have wondered that. I thought we got along okay back at school, you know? I’ve always assumed it’s because I wouldn’t fuck you.”

I stare at her in disbelief, my jaw tight.

“Are you joking?”

“Nnn…o?”

I laugh coldly. “You have no idea why I might not be your biggest fan.”

“I genuinely don’t. But I also don’t care that much, Hades, so it’s okay. We can go to this dumb gala thing tomorrow because my father is insisting that I go—and I’m guessing he’s holding your deal over your head to make you go as well. So, we can go, get drunk, not talk to each other, and call it a night. Sound good?”

The gall of this woman is unbelievable.

“You seriously don’t remember what happened at that frat party at the Sigma house. Your freshman year, my junior one.”

“Hades, that was like nine years ago. I really don’t, sorry.”

Anger begins to make my blood boil.

“It was a Halloween party. Your freshman year.”

She looks at me like I’ve got two heads. “Hades—”

“You were wearing a Cleopatra costume, with a gold mask,” I hiss. “I was drunk, Vanya. Very drunk. And you used that to—”

“Hades, I wasn’t in the country on Halloween my freshman year of Harvard. My father paid for me and some girlfriends to fly to Ibiza.”

My face darkens. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s…not?” She frowns. “Why would I lie about that? And what exactly do you think happened between us, anyway?”

“You really want to go there, Vanya?”

“I’ve already told you: I don’t really care. But you seem to. Look, it’s not like I actively dislike you, Hades,” she shrugs. “We’ve just never run in the same circle. We didn’t back then when I was a party girl…the only party girl at school who wouldn’t screw you because I had some self-respect…and we don’t now, either, trust me. So if you want to ‘go there’, please, by all means—”

“You found me so fucking drunk I could barely see straight, shoved me into a room, and tried to suck my dick even though I was telling you to fucking stop,” I snap. “And don’t give me that fucking ‘a guy can’t say no’ bullshit,” I hiss. “Because I fucking did.”

Her brow worries, and her face pales a little.

“That happened to you?” she says quietly.

I glare at her.

“Hades,” Vanya says gently, walking toward me. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want your fucking apologies—”

“I was in Ibiza, Hades. I’m really, truly sorry that someone did that to you. It’s awful.” Her face darkens as she looks away. “I woke up to a guy trying to put his hand down my pants in the basement of a party once, my senior year.” Her eyes raise to mine. “I mean, if you ever want to talk about it—”

My blood is roaring in my ears. “It was you. I know it was you, Vanya. You wore a Cleopatra—”

“Wait, Halloween my freshman year?” She frowns, trying to remember. “Cleopatra?”

Then she purses her lips.

“Whitney fucking Gerrard,” she says quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“Whitney Gerrard. She was in my dorm freshman year. Dark hair, and her mother is Albanian, so we have a similar complexion.” She blinks, shaking her head. “She wore a Cleopatra costume that Halloween. Definitely. And she told everyone you two were dating for like a month after. I remember distinctly, because she had these Polaroids of the two of you hugging at that party tacked up on her dorm door. You both looked pretty wasted.”

The room blurs.

Fuck.

I’m vaguely aware of Vanya approaching. And of me flinching a little when she puts her hand on my arm, then relaxing.

“You wanna sit?”

I nod, letting her guide me to the couch.

“Here.”

She hands me a glass of whiskey. I mumble a thanks and knock it back in one gulp.

“I’m so sorry, Hades. Oh my God, fuck Whitney. What an utter piece of shit.”

I nod.

“Is that why you’ve never liked me?”

I glance over at her sitting next to me.

“Mostly.” I smile wryly. “That, and I kind of always thought of you as this trust fund mob-princess brat.”

She grins. “I mean, I am a trust fund mob-princess brat.”

I chuckle.

“But I’ve accepted that. Melik is all bent out of shape about this deal. But, please…” she rolls her eyes. “I mean, he can’t unclog a toilet without calling for help. There’s no chance he could lead our father’s empire. He’s just power hungry. That’s why he’s pissed.”

I frown. “I was under the impression both of you were upset about the sale.”

She snorts. “Me? No. No, Hades, I just want the cash, not power, not an empire. I just want to spend the rest of my life on a beach somewhere, where women who look like Gal Gadot dressed as Wonder Woman reapply my sunblock and keep my wine glass topped up.”

She grins as heat creeps into her face.

“That was my awkward way of telling you I’ve realized I’m gay, by the way. Something my father refuses to acknowledge, hence you being my date for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, getting rubdowns from Wonder Woman is kind of a giveaway.”

She laughs, still a little embarrassed. I smile curiously.

“I didn’t actually know that about you.”

“No, you wouldn’t. I’m fairly private about it.”

“So why tell me?”

She shrugs. “Because you told me something I’m guessing you don’t tell many people. It seemed fair.”

Today is one hundred percent not going as I expected it would. And I’m very okay with that.

“I don’t suppose I can sweeten the pot at all to get you to help me push this deal through?”

“You don’t have to sweeten anything. I’m already pushing for it. And my dad—”

She breaks. And suddenly, she starts to cry.

Shit.

“Hey, I’ve got you.”

I wrap a platonic arm around Vanya’s shoulders, giving her support as she sniffs back the tears and dabs at her face.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know where that came from. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I frown. “Are you okay?”

“I…” she looks down. “No, actually.” She chokes out another sob as she raises red, puffy eyes to mine. “He’s got cancer, Hades. My dad, I mean. He just found out recently that it’s terminal.”

I wince. “Jesus. I’m so fucking sorry, Vanya.”

“Thanks,” she sniffs. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. But…that’s mainly why he’s doing all this. He doesn’t have a lot of time, Hades. I don’t want the empire, and Melik would be a disaster if he got it. So that’s why Dad’s burying the past between our families and making this deal.”

Christ. I kind of feel a little guilty now, knowing how much one of the properties we’re about to purchase from Serj is actually going to be worth someday. But it is what it is. Vanya and her brother will get a massive payout. And he’ll be dead anyway.

Vanya’s face twists as she looks up at me. “I shouldn’t have said that. Please—”

“I’m not going to use your dad being sick as a negotiating tactic, Vanya,” I growl quietly.

Her lips twist. “The Russians would.”

“Well, I won’t. And neither will my brother.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

But thank you for confirming that Gavan is also after your father’s empire.