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Whiskey Poison - A Mafia Romance Novel Cover

Whiskey Poison - A Mafia Romance

After a stranger saves her life, he becomes her new boss—a CEO, a Bratva don, and her prison warden. Timofey Viktorov blackmails her into a deal: live in his mansion and care for his baby, with no option to refuse. Trapped in his world, she must uncover his secrets and blackmail him back to escape. But the longer she stays, the closer he gets, and the ice between them thins. Sooner or later, it will crack. This modern mafia romance blends danger, passion, and mystery as she fights for freedom while risking her heart.
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Chapter 3

"What happened?" I ask, even though I already know.

Ashley has been in an on-again, off-again relationship with her abusive drug dealer for years. Apparently, they're on again. Or they were. I don't know what they'll be after he's punched her fucking lights out.

Before Ashley can even answer, Noelle shakes her head. "I'll kill him. I swear to God I will."

"What happened to filing a police report?" Ashley taunts. "Suddenly, you're Ms. Vigilante."

It's Noelle's turn to be unmoved. "Jason already has several warrants out for his arrest, I'm sure. If the police were going to do anything about him, they would've done it several infractions ago. I might as well take matters into my own hands."

Ashley snorts. "Your boyfriend works for the FBI. You do realize that, right? He's probably recording this conversation right now. Everything you say can and will be held against you."

"He's just an accountant for the FBI, right?" I butt in. "He's not, like, an actual agent."

I've met Wayne plenty of times, but his job is kind of a blur. He has a soft chin, a receding hairline, and a vapid smile. He isn't what television has taught me to think of as someone who works for the FBI.

"He's a forensic accountant," Noelle agrees. "Which is sort of like an agent, but he specializes in white collar crimes. He also is not recording my conversations, so no one needs to know that I'm planning to kill Jason and plant his head on a spike in my front yard."

Ashley gives us a weak smile. "It's fine. I went there to end things and... well, they're ended now. I won't be seeing him again."

I try to toss a dubious look at Noelle, but video chatting doesn't really facilitate body language. I doubt Ashley will ever be truly done with Jason. Mostly because I doubt she will ever be truly clean. She's a third-generation addict and still in deep, despite her latest trip to rehab.

"If you need anything-" I start.

"No," she snaps. "This is why I left my camera off. This is about you, Piper. You had a traumatic experience. A black eye is just another day for me."

Noelle practically screams in frustration. "What is wrong with the two of you? Press charges. Both of you! None of this is normal. This is ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is you acting like you have any idea what this is like," Ashley says.

There's a beat of uncomfortable silence.

"What does that mean?" Noelle asks finally.

I cover my eyes. "C'mon, you two. Can we not do this?"

I'm the peacemaker. I've always played that role, for my friends and everyone else. Noelle is the boss lady and Ashley is the wild card. The two of them butt heads more often than not, and I'm not in the right headspace to properly referee them tonight.

"No, let's do it," Ashley sniffs, bending closer to her camera. "Noelle sits in a cushy office and lives in a fancy loft apartment with her boyfriend and wants to act like she knows what it's like for us."

Noelle rolls her eyes. "Spare me the melodrama. It's not like we're from different sides of the tracks, okay? We grew up in the same apartment complex, for God's sake. But while you were out getting fucked-up with Jason and Mychal and Elijah and I-can't-even-remember-who-else, I got scholarships and went to college and made something of myself. You don't get to be mad at me for that."

"Are you saying I haven't made something of myself?" Ashley snaps. "Are you saying-"

"Stop!" I yell loudly enough that Mrs. Shaban next door is probably going to knock on our shared wall to tell me to keep it down.

Thankfully, it works. I feel both of their eyes flit to me.

"Can I tell you how this is going to go?" I ask. "Because I already know. Ashley is going to accuse Noelle of never really liking her-"

"Of course I like you!" Noelle interrupts.

"And Noelle is going to accuse Ashley of thinking she is stuck-up-"

"She is sometimes." Ashley shrugs unapologetically.

"Then you're both going to cry," I finish. "Then, when you're cried out, you'll apologize and make nice and we'll end the conversation laughing like normal. So how about we skip the drama and go to the laughing? I've had a long day."

They both look like kids who just lost their favorite toy, but I can tell they know I'm right. Noelle is the first to admit it.

"Fine," she huffs. "We're too old for this shit anyway."

"Stop telling Piper and me how to live our lives and we'll be fine," Ashley retorts. "But you know I love you, Ellie Bellie."

Noelle's eyes go watery, even though she's always hated that nickname. "I love you, too, Smashley."

"Great," I conclude. "Now that that's settled, I still have to prep for work tomorrow."

"You're kidding, right?" Noelle drawls. "You need to decompress and handle your personal business. You think you're fine now, but the body keeps the score, girl. You're going to be a mess the moment you try to relax."

Part of me is terrified Noelle is right, but I really don't have time to process this trauma. Besides, I have a lifetime of it built up inside of me somewhere. I've managed that okay.

So far.

I shake my head. "Not kidding, no. The gears of CPS stop for no woman. I have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning about a permanent placement for an abandoned baby. Honestly, it might be a bright spot in my week. Giving a kid a home versus snatching them out of it; could be a nice change of pace."

"Or you could take the day off and get some bottomless mimosas with me," Ashley offers, wagging her brows.

"I thought you were sober."

"I am! California sober," she says a bit defensively. "Weed and alcohol are fine. It's all about moderation."

I watch Noelle zip her lips closed in an effort to keep all of her unsolicited advice inside. We both know moderation is not Ashley's strong suit. Doing the exact opposite of what we advise is one of her strengths, though. Most of the time, it's better to stay quiet and let her figure it out on her own.

I give her a thin smile. "Raincheck on the brunch. I have a case file to review."

I hang up to a mini-chorus of well wishes and encouragement. But too quickly, the oppressing silence of my apartment settles over me like a cobweb. No matter how hard I try to fight off the discomfort, I can't seem to shake the tingle of wrongness in my skin.

It was easy to shove my attack into a dark corner of my mind when I had Noelle and Ashley to talk to. Now, it's front and center. The same ninety-second interaction plays on an endless loop in my brain.

Along with the blue-eyed beast who came to my rescue.

That's a little harder to forget.

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