Dangerous Fix
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I didn't want him to become one of them. But for him, there was no other option.
-Gia
Embark on a journey into the shadows of desire and danger with Gia and Joe, where passion ignites in the heart of a Mafia empire in this modern day retelling of Romeo and Juliet. Will love conquer the ruthless grip of the underworld, or will their hearts be consumed by the flames they've unleashed?
If I wanted a second date with the girl I've been falling in love with, I had to calculate my odds of every fight. And I had to win.
I could fix this.
-Joe
From author Abby McCormick comes a new STANDALONE, full-length MAFIA ROMANCE novel.
STANDALONE: A Mafia Romance full-length novel. WARNING: 18+ only. Please read responsibly.
THIS NOVEL CONTAINS TRIGGERING CONTENT.
Abby McCormick
Abby likes to think she’s a mom of many children. She has a pet bunny, way too many plants, but only one child. She hopes to foster and adopt to fulfill her nurturing instinct. Living in a world of kitty cats and rainbows, as her husband says, Abby tries to see the optimistic side of life, even though it can sometimes be hard. Her books provide her with a way to shine light on the most important parts of life: love. Her books, though ranging across several micro genres, explore stories of forbidden romance. She believes that love can prevail despite challenges presented by difficult circumstances, societal taboos, and cultural barriers, proving that sometimes, our hearts find solace in the most unexpected of places.
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Dangerous Fix - Abby McCormick
Abby McCormick
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
DANGEROUS FIX. Copywrite © 2023 by Abby McCormick. All rights reserved. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.
First Edition: December 2023
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
DEDICATION
For every girl who wants a man who will do anything for her. That is love. And it can be a dangerous thing.
I didn’t want him to become one of them. But for him, there was no other option.
-Gia
Gia
That Man
IKNEW HE WAS WATCHING ME, but I pretended I didn’t notice as I wiped the table of the crumbs from the last customers at Giavanna’s.
The pizza parlor was named after my mother. And I was named after her. My mother loved pizza, but mostly, she loved her family. Giavanna’s was the one place where everyone could fit, everyone could belong.
And I have a big family.
I took a step back and inspected the table before leaning in to straighten the menu, flip it over so the family specials were facing out.
No one else would notice.
But I would know.
I felt uber self-conscious as I leaned over, the white V-neck tee I was wearing giving him a decent view down my shirt. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about a guy looking at me, but that man made me blush in a way that made me feel like I was still in high school.
At twenty-two I found it hard to be fazed by anything anymore. I was desensitized. Growing up with the internet, the not-so-great public school a couple blocks away, and the stuff my family was involved with...
I was surprised anything could make me feel this way.
I gathered the dishes piled on the corner of the table and gave it one last wipe before hanging the rag on my apron and heading to the back of the restaurant.
His eyes burned my skin, my skirt feeling shorter than normal as it rode up while I walked. My hands shook under the dishes.
Why did he make me feel this way?
I made it to the kitchen, putting the heavy stack of plates down in the extra-large sink. It was empty. The dish washer had already gone home. I leaned over to grab the sponge, preparing to wash the remaining plates. I didn’t want somebody else to have to clean up after me in the morning.
Everyone had already gone home, including the ten-person party I had just pocketed a healthy tip from. Everyone was gone.
Everyone except him.
He was here all the time.
Every Friday night.
I never asked him what he did during the day, or what he did all week. But I knew where to find him on Fridays.
Here.
With me.
The water rushed over my hands as I rinsed the dishes and set them in the sanitizer. Why was I thinking about him? And why was he here? Good food... or something else?
Was he still in the dining room?
Would he still be here when I finished?
He was a mystery.
A tall, dark-haired, dark eyed mystery.
He gave us Italians a run for our money.
He had a sweet face, but something about him seemed dangerous. Maybe it was the tattoos I saw crawling up his neck and on his forearms. Or the constant five o’clock shadow sculpting his face. Or the disheveled that still looked so silky and thick I wanted to run my hands through it every time I saw him.
My thoughts made me blush.
I was taking out the first dish from the sanitizer when the lights flickered. I screeched and let the plate slip from my hand, crashing to the floor.
Everything went dark.
I heard the doors swing open a moment later, and I turned toward the sound, backing into the edge of the sink, the lip digging into the small of my back.
Steps made their way toward me in the silence, and I held my breath in anticipation. The crush of porcelain under boots touched my ears. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
A hand gently grabbed my side and that’s when I nearly fainted.
Who are you?
I asked breathlessly.
The hand held me securely. I was too stunned to move. My heart hammered rhythmically inside my chest. I felt like I had run a marathon, trying to catch my breath.
I fought the instinct to run. Something about the gentle way he held me told me I wasn’t in danger. I tried to stay calm.
Are you alright?
a deep voice asked above my head.
I sighed against him. I knew that voice. It was him.
Joe.
I heard a crash when the lights went out. Did you get hurt?
He didn’t move away as he asked, intently holding my body in his hands.
I’m ok,
I breathed.
In the quiet kitchen, naked without even the sound of the refrigerator buzzing, he must have heard me.
His hand tightened on my waist.
I should have pushed him away, reprimanded him, told him not to touch me. But I didn’t.
Didn’t want to.
You sure?
he asked again. That sounded like a plate. No cuts?
I’m alright. I just dropped it on the floor. I don’t know why the electricity cut out.
Not paying your bill?
he joked.
He removed his hand that curved perfectly around my waist. I felt bereft at the loss. I didn’t know him at all, and yet- he was familiar.
Safe.
He had been living rent-free in my head for so long, it only made sense for him to now be so close.
Natural.
Here,
he said, reaching for my hand in the dark. Let’s see if we can fix it.
His hand was warm against my still wet skin.
Wait,
I said, pulling away.
I’m not going to hurt you,
he said.
It’s not that,
I responded.
A pale light brightened the black and white checkered floor, and I realized Joe turned on his phone. Where had I left mine? On the island? I wiped my hand dry on my apron and searched for his barely illuminated hand again.
At least I wasn’t alone.
Ok, let’s go,
he said. We should lock the front door. Don’t want anyone wandering in with the lights blacked out like this. Could he dangerous.
I hummed in agreement, happy when he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
Why didn’t you take out your phone before?
I asked as we walked toward swinging doors that led to the dining room.
I wasn’t sure if you were alone.
You thought someone was in here with us?
I asked warily.
He didn’t answer.
Stay here,
he said. I’ll be right back.
He left my side, and I was smothered in darkness once again. I should have stopped to look for my phone.
I counted my breaths in a steady rhythm while I waited for him to come back. I was a five again, sitting in the corner of my room waiting for my papà to stop fighting with the other man.
If I didn’t breathe too loudly, didn’t make a sound, the man would go away. But I don’t remember him going away. Not without taking my mother’s life with him.
Something touched my arm and I screeched, flailing away from it.
It’s me, Gia,
Joe said. Didn’t you see me coming?
I hadn’t realized my eyes had closed.
No, I- I don’t like the dark,
I admitted, breathing heavily.
I let him take my sweaty palm in