New Dark Mafia Series
Synopsis
A broken mafia princess with everything to hide.
A ruthless protector with everything to lose.
And a sadistic husband who won’t stop until he gets his revenge.
Alexia
To the outside world, I was the perfect mafia princess—beautiful, privileged, and untouchable. But fairy tales don’t exist in our world. On my wedding night, I discovered the true face of evil. Trapped in a violent, loveless marriage to Igor, a Bratva kingpin, I’ve endured horrors that would shatter most.
Now, I’ve uncovered a secret so devastating that Igor will kill anyone to keep me silent—even my daughter. My only hope lies in Dave, the one man who ever truly cared for me. He’s as dangerous as the world I escaped, but when I begged him for help, he didn’t hesitate.
Now, we’re locked in a deadly game of survival, where every move risks our lives. And even though I swore I’d never trust a man again, my heart isn’t listening.
Dave
I’ve always been loyal to my family—the Irish Brotherhood—and the Syndicate we’ve built. But Alexia has always been my one weakness, my first love. When she chose to marry Igor, the pain and betrayal cut me too deep. So, I buried my feelings and hardened my heart.
Until the day she called, begging for my help.
Now, I’ve pulled her from her nightmare, but it’s not over. Protecting Alexia means going to war with Igor, the cruelest man I’ve ever faced. The deeper I go, the more I realize that saving her isn’t enough. I want her. And I’m willing to fight for her heart just as fiercely as I’ll fight to keep her alive.
But in this deadly game of power and betrayal, no one walks away unscathed. Igor won’t stop until he tears us apart, and the secrets Alexia is keeping might destroy us both.
SNEAK PEEK
Chapter 1 – Dave
2024@ Liz Gavin
WARNING: the text below contains scenes of explicit violence. It hasn’t been edited yet.
This isn’t a fairy tale and I’m no knight in shining armor.
I drive a black Maserati, not some white steed, and I sure as hell don’t save damsels in distress.
Yet here I am. Planning to do just that.
Pacing keeps me sharp, keeps my wayward emotions from dragging me down. The room feels smaller by the minute—walls closing in with the weight of what’s about to go down. Gun in hand, the cold weight of it a familiar comfort, I count the seconds. The cool metal grounds me, a reminder of the life I’ve never really escaped, no matter how hard I’ve tried. My fingers slide over the barrel, a prayer in the only language I’ve known for too damn long.
This shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be getting involved. I should be miles away from the mess that’s Alexia Lenko.
But every time I close my eyes, I see her face—the desperation in her voice when she called me. It’s not the Alexia I remember, not the woman who stood by that bastard’s side with a dead look in her eyes. This voice was different. Broken. Terrified.
“Dave, please… I can’t do this alone. I’m in danger,” her voice broke off, “My daughter is in danger. I need you.”
I should’ve let her voice fade into silence. Should’ve let her deal with the fallout of her choices, the choices that wrecked whatever we had years ago. But I didn’t. Some part of me—a part I’ve been trying to kill for years—couldn’t hang up. Couldn’t turn my back.
Now I’m paying for it.
The clock on my phone counts down the last few minutes. I’m on borrowed time, and the weight of this decision presses down harder with every passing second. My pulse spikes. I take a slow, deep breath. Focus. There’s no room for doubt now. I can’t afford to think about what happens if this goes sideways.
The door swings open, and in stride my twin brothers, Tommy and Shelby. If not for Shelby’s glasses, which he started wearing as a teen, it’d be impossible to tell them apart. They seem to enjoy highlighting it by wearing similar outfits. Today is no exception. They’ve both chosen black leather jackets and gray slacks.
Tommy’s jacket hangs open over a dark T-shirt while Shelby’s is white. Their favorite pinewood cologne hangs thick in the air, like smoke. They look like me, just… more merciless. Fiercer, despite being five years younger than me. Their black hair is cropped close, accentuating the smooth skin of their cheeks and chin. They’ve just turned thirty yet they have a youthful vibe about them. If you don’t look at their eyes, you’d never see the truth beneath. Those icy blue eyes, the same shade as our father’s. Cold and indifferent, like a frozen sky on the darkest day of winter.
Right behind them comes Gina, one of the hostesses in my club, bringing me a glass of whiskey. She bends at the waist to set it on the table, making her naked D-cup breasts jiggle and the silver chains connecting her butterfly nipple clamps clink.
After straightening her back up, she faces my brothers. “Would you guys like something to drink, too?”
“No, thanks,” they reply at the same time.
“Need anything else from me, boss?” Her whisper hangs in the air.
“No, thank you, Gina.”
With a pouty expression aimed at me, and a wink thrown at my brothers, the stunning brunette rotates on her impossibly high heels. Her leather skirt hugs every curve as she sways her ample ass toward the door.
“Why didn’t you accept her obvious offer?” Tommy inquires, arching a thick eyebrow. “Or have you given up on fucking at your own club? That’d push the stress out of you. God knows you could use it today.”
I shake my head. Not taking the bait. “I don’t fuck guests or members.”
Shelby smirks and rasps. “That means you’re fucking delightful Gina.”
Tommy’s expression turns serious and he eyes me. “We’re worried about you, about this whole thing.”
In my mind, I still hear the faint echo of desperation in Alexia’s voice.
“You don’t get it. You didn’t hear her. Alexia and Rose are in danger. Igor’s planning something unfathomable. She didn’t have time to say exactly what.”
“So, you’re really going through with this?” Tommy’s voice cuts through the room, low and sharp.
I resume pacing. The tension in my muscles is coiled tight, a loaded spring ready to snap. “It’s already in motion.”
Tommy steps forward, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. “You think this is smart? Risking everything for her? You’re getting soft, Dave.”
The word hits like a blade, twisting deep. Soft. If only he knew the weight behind this decision. The nights I’ve spent trying to forget her, to bury the past along with whatever the hell we had before she walked away. The anger still burns beneath my skin, but it’s buried deep under layers of cold calculation.
“This isn’t about being soft.” I stop pacing long enough to face him, my jaw tight. “It’s about getting back at Igor for everything that he’s done to us.”
Tommy doesn’t flinch. He’s ice-cold, like always. He’s got the fire of ambition in his blood—the merciless drive that makes him such a good soldier in our business. “And what about Rose? You think Igor’s gonna let you take his kid? You’re not just stealing his wife—you’re stealing his legacy. That’s not gonna end well for you.”
His words slice deep, but I don’t let the effects show on my face. I’ve spent years perfecting the art of masking how much the hits hurt. “I’m not leaving that little girl behind. She’s innocent in all of this.”
Tommy moves closer, his eyes narrowing. It’s not just my brother standing in front of me. My father’s ruthless blood, the weight of the Boyle name, the darkness we’ve inherited. “She’s not your problem, Dave. None of this is.
“Igor is a Pakhan, which means he’s extremely powerful,” Shelby interjects, as if I needed the reminder.
“Not more powerful than our Syndicate.” I reply, drilling him with a stern gaze. “Or have you forgotten I’m still the leader.”
“Have you?” Tommy spits out. “You’re risking everything—the business, our allies, the family—for someone who walked out on you five years ago. For what? Love?”
The mention of that word, that sentiment makes something inside me crack, but I keep my reactions hidden. Love. What the hell do any of us know about that? I grind my teeth, forcing down the memories that claw at the back of my mind. The nights with Alexia, her skin against mine, her laugh when we were still stupid enough to believe the world wouldn’t be able to swallow us whole.
“Don’t talk to me about love, Tommy. This isn’t about that.” My voice is hard, sharp. “Alexia’s in over her head, and Rose is an innocent in all this. You wouldn’t leave a kid behind, and neither will I.”
For a heartbeat, Tommy’s mask slips, a flicker of something real in his eyes. He tightens his jaw, holding back. He won’t admit it, but he understands. I glance at Shelby to see the same expression. Leaving the innocent behind isn’t in our blood—not even in this twisted life of ours. We would never harm the innocent or allow them to suffer when it was within our power to prevent it.
“War’s coming. You better be ready for it.” Shelby’s voice lowers, and the room feels smaller. “Igor won’t let this slide. And neither will the rest of his Bratva allies. You know how this works.”
“I know.” My words are clipped, cutting the conversation short. There’s nothing left to say. “When it’s over, you’ll see I made the right call.”
Tommy tilts his head, the ice still in his eyes. “For your sake, you better hope you do.”
We stand there, the silence between us thick with unexpressed feelings. We’ve always been a united front— the Boyle brothers against the world. When I gave up trying to claw my way out of this life, and embraced the darkness as my legacy, Tommy and Shelby stood by my side. Nothing has ever shaken their support until today.
Tommy takes a step back, running a hand through his short, dark hair, letting out a breath. “Just don’t drag us all down with you, Dave. We’ve lost too much as it is.”
The door clicks shut behind them, but Tommy’s judgment lingers like smoke in the air. His words echo in my head. Mom’s passing is still too fresh and painful for us to talk openly about it. But I can read between the lines so I know that was the loss he meant.
As for Alexia and Rose, am I making the right call? Is this about more than just getting under Igor’s skin?
I take a breath, forcing down the voices in my head. There’s no room for second-guessing now. I made my decision the moment I answered Alexia’s call.
Rose.
She’s already with my men, hidden away in a safe house in Wychmere Harbor. We grabbed her first, hours ago. Igor’s security was too focused on Alexia to see us coming. Taking Rose was the easy part.
Taking Alexia? That’s where things will get really complicated.
—
The growl of the Maserati’s engine fills the narrow alley as I pull up, gun in hand, ready. My men flank Alexia’s limo and entourage, their SUVs blocking any escape. Igor’s men spill out of their cars like cockroaches in a panic, but they’re too slow. Too unprepared.
I fire first.
The sound of gunfire rips through the street, and my pulse kicks into overdrive. Adrenaline floods my veins, everything snapping into place. The chaos of the fight, the deafening blasts, the coppery scent hanging in the cold air—all of it sharp, urgent, alive. Gunpowder stings the back of my throat, its familiar burn fueling the rush. My men move with precision, covering my back, but it’s my bullets dropping most of Igor’s thugs. I’ve done this too many times to count. But it never feels any less mechanical.
One of the goons gets a shot off, the bullet slamming into my chest. Pain radiates through my ribs, but the Kevlar vest absorbs the worst of the impact. It’s a reminder of just how close I always am to the edge.
“Asshole should’ve aimed for my head,” I mutter through gritted teeth as I take aim.
I don’t miss. One shot between the eyes, and he’s down.
The moment the last Bratva thug drops, I’m at the limo door. My pulse is still hammering, adrenaline coursing through me like wildfire. I yank the door open, and there she is.
Alexia. My Sandy.
She’s curled up in the seat, arms wrapped around herself, her body trembling like a cornered animal. Her hair is a mess, the long blonde strands sticking to her pale, tear-streaked cheek. For a second, something inside me wavers—an old, long-buried instinct to protect her.
But then I remember.
I remember everything, her betrayal as vivid as ever in my mind.
That helps me rebuild the fortress around my heart.
My fingers wrap around her wrist, and for a split second, I have to fight the urge to squeeze harder than I should. It’s not her I want to crush. It’s everything she’s done, everything she represents. But damn if she doesn’t make it hard to separate the two.
Her head snaps up, and her amber eyes widen when they land on me.
“Thank God it’s you,” she whispers, her voice trembling like she’s relieved to see me.
For a moment, I see her the way she was back then—the girl who once made me believe in things I should’ve known better than to trust. But the illusion vanishes as quickly as it comes. She’s not that innocent girl anymore, and I’m sure as hell not the man who loved her.
I yank her out of the limo, harder than I should. She stumbles, her legs weak beneath her, that damn black silk dress clinging to her like a second skin. It’s like she’s still trying to be the woman I fell for, still playing the role she thinks will work on me.
It just pisses me off more.
“Don’t thank your lucky stars just yet.” My voice is low, sharp. “You’ll regret this reunion before the day’s over.”
Her eyes dart to mine, a flicker of confusion and desperation in them. “Dave, what do you mean? I asked for your help.”
I grit my teeth, trying to bury the part of me that still reacts to her. “Be careful what you pray for, princess. The gods just might listen.”
She stumbles again, her voice rising in panic. “Where’s Rose? Did you get her? Please, Dave—tell me she’s safe!”
Her words hit me harder than I expected, digging deep into places I thought were long dead. “Rose is safe. We grabbed her this morning. She’s in a safe house. You’ll go to her soon.”
Relief floods her face, but it’s short-lived. Her eyes flick past me, locking onto the men waiting by the SUV—my bodyguards, Phil and Angus. Phil’s holding a black hood.
“Dave, no. Please. Don’t blindfold me. I’ll behave. I promise. Just… don’t do it like this.”
Her voice cracks, and she grabs at me, her hands batting at my arms, her legs kicking out as panic takes over. For a second, I hate her. Hate her for putting me in this position, for needing me. I hate myself more for not being able to walk away.
I haul her off her feet, ignoring the sting of her nails raking across my arm despite the thick fabric of my black suit. Angus strides in, securing her wrists and ankles with zip ties. Phil pulls the hood over her head, muffling her pleas.
“Do it,” I bark, harsher than I mean to.
Angus nods and injects the sedative into her neck. Her body goes limp in my arms, she’s weightless like a ghost. Very fitting. That’s what she’s become. The memories of what we used to have haunt my mind, sneaking up on me when I least expect.
I settle her in the back seat, strapping her in.
I slam the door shut and turn to Angus. “You know what to do. Report when you’re done.”
“Yes, boss.”
I watch as the SUV pulls away, taking her with it. I should feel relieved. I should feel something. But all I feel is the weight of what I’ve just done. The line I’ve crossed. The line that gets harder and harder to see every time I step over it.
I slide into the driver’s seat of the Maserati, shutting the door. My forehead rests against the steering wheel for a moment, the tension coiling tighter in my chest.
Tommy would call me a fool. Hell, Shelby wouldn’t be far behind. But they don’t know what it’s like to look into her eyes and feel that pull, that goddamn pull that’s never gone away.
“What the hell have I just done?” The words scrape past my clenched teeth, but there’s no answer. Not one I want, anyway.
I fish my phone from the inner pocket in my jacket and dial a number.
Joe DiLorenzo picks it up on the second ring, “What’s up, D?”
“I need your cleaning crew. My men are busy at the moment.”
Our families belong to the same syndicate so I know he will help me no questions asked.
“On it. Just tell me where to send them.”
After giving him the address, I hang up and pocket the phone again. I push the start button, the engine roars back to life. I shift into gear, peeling out of the alley, the bodies of Igor’s men lying cold behind me. I tell myself that’s what’s bothering me—the bodies, the recklessness of our attack. But I know better. It’s not the cops I’m worried about.
War’s coming. I know it. Hell, I’ve been waiting for it. The Irish Brotherhood’s got my back, and I’ve got the firepower of the whole Syndicate to end this once and for all.
But as I grip the wheel tighter, the gnawing feeling in my gut refuses to die.
I’ll win the war. I know that much.
But will my heart survive it?
I push the thought away, forcing my eyes on the street ahead. This is what I signed up for the moment I answered her call. There’s no turning back. No matter how dangerous it gets.
Hours later, I stand from my chair in the main office of my hotel chain, stretching to undo the knots in my back. The floor-to-ceiling windows reveal the bay, boats glinting in the night lights. I hadn’t noticed it had gotten so late.
A soft knock at the door. Greg, my head of security, comes in, carrying a small wooden box.
“A courier just delivered this,” he says, setting it on my desk. “I’ve checked it. It’s safe.”
He slides open the lid, and my stomach churns at the sight inside: a severed ear, an earring of gold and tiny emeralds glinting in the low light. I know this earring. I was with Alexia when she bought that jewel for her nanny.
“Motherfucker!” The curse grates from my throat as I pull a folded sheet of paper from the box and open it, staring down at Igor’s scrawled message.
I have Alina.
I will kill her.
I’ll keep killing everyone you know
until you return Alexia and Rose to me.
Dave appeared first in his brother’s story Nick (Book #4 in the Muse of Darkness series).
Get your copy here – Nick.
TAMING A RUTHLESS HEART releases in October 26th 2024.
PRE ORDER HERE.