The Devil You Don't Know: A Dark Mafia Romance (Red Widow Crew), page 1
Contents
A Note About the Pen Name
Content Warning
1. Audry
2. Kai
3. Audry
4. Kai
5. Audry
6. Kai
7. Audry
8. Kai
9. Audry
10. Kai
11. Audry
12. Kai
13. Audry
14. Kai
15. Audry
16. Kai
17. Audry
18. Kai
19. Audry
20. Kai
21. Audry
22. Kai
23. Audry
24. Kai
25. Audry
26. Kai
27. Audry
28. Kai
29. Audry
30. Kai
31. Audry
32. Kai
33. Audry
34. Kai
35. Audry
36. Kai
37. Audry
38. Kai
39. Audry
40. Kai
41. Audry
42. Kai
43. Audry
44. Kai
45. Audry
46. Kai
47. Audry
48. Kai
49. Audry
50. Kai
51. Audry
52. Kai
53. Audry
54. Kai
Audry
Author Note
Also By
Copyright © 2024 by Adelaide Halliday
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Book Cover by Jules
A Note About the Pen Name
The rest of the Red Widow Series will be continuing under Adelaide Halliday!
When I started publishing, I envisioned sticking in the fantasy genre. Living my life with fairies, and magic. I wanted to fit in with the mysterious initialed names.
But then, the idea for the Red Widow Crew was started, and I began meeting more friends within the book world. And although A.D. Marie is based off my name, it’s just awkward. From 2024 onward, books will continue to be published under Adelaide Halliday, except for the Willows Academy Series.
Whether it’s A.D. Marie or Adelaide Halliday, it’s all the same person behind the worlds and words.
Content Warning
Hello Lovely Reader,
I'm happy you've chosen to pick up this book. It means a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me.
The Devil You Don't know is a dark mafia romance. As such it contains dark and violent themes and situations that may be triggering to some. This book contains heavy topics including Graphic Sexual Assault, PTSD, Anxiety, Name Calling, Gang Affiliation, and Violence.
For a full trigger list, please visit my website.
To those who wished things ended differently.
I rewrote it.
Chapter 1
Audry
The longer I stared at it, the more this lipstick looked like a dick.
I twisted the crimson case, watching the sparkling stain rise upward. The shimmer of the glitter in the matte liquid caught my eye and a soft chuckle escaped me, amplified by the alcohol coursing through my system, making me giddy. As I applied the lipstick, its sweet fragrance filled my nostrils. With a single pop of my lips, I was content.
I flipped my hair, readjusting the curls. My stomach rolled as I swayed again, the room tilting as I struggled to stay upright.
The band playing outside the door mixed with the unintelligible chatter and laughter of bar goers, vibrating the bathroom walls. I leaned against the counter, relishing the coolness of the granite on my hot skin. The stickiness of the floor beneath my boots annoyed me, its tackiness enunciating each movement with a squeak.
My phone buzzed on the counter, joining the cacophony of annoyances.
Quinton
Where r u? ;)
A fire grew in my belly as I stared at the flashing message, the words blurring. A smile wrapped across my lips as I thought of the trouble I could get into tonight.
Me
Bathroom. Care 2 join?
I typed back the somewhat legible response to Quinton, my most recent hook up. He was a consistent name I could throw around to my parents. They wanted me married and most likely pregnant by now. They didn't like the carousel of rotating men, and my lies of who I was with and what I was doing were getting hard to keep up with. Quinton also checked my box as someone I could always count on for a great fuck at a moment's notice, along with an alright dinner partner.
A part of me wished I could settle down…a small, locked away part that longed for my mother's approval. But I saw what relationships did—to Sofya, my best friend, and hell, even to my own mother.
Quinton
Be right there.
My stomach clenched in knots in anticipation. I peeked into each of the stalls, finding them empty and just as gross as one would expect them to be. Bottles of beer, plastic cocktail cups, and a myriad of trash lined the floors around each toilet.
I pushed open the final stall, and the putrid smell of stale urine and vomit assaulted me, forcing me to gag. I recoiled in disgust, my nose turned up as I slammed the stall door shut.
Isn’t the worst place I’ve fucked someone, I thought.
The faint desire mixed with a tinge of embarrassment consumed me as I pondered through my myriad of hookups. I didn't remember their names, just a blur over the past two years. Bars, alleyways, cars, parks…the list went on. Something about a man underneath me, moaning my name, made me feel powerful. I could bring them to their knees before me with a soft moan and the promise of something more.
A player, I thought. The words echoed through my mind, bringing a subtle weight to my stomach. Just a sex-capade. The memories of Sofya, my best friend since childhood, and the events that unfolded flooded back. It felt like an eternity had passed since we laughed together at The Escape, joking about what her first sex-capade and introduction to the world would be. She broke the first player rule, meeting her ex-fiance, Daniel, who she promised to love. Regardless of how far away anything felt, it was only a year since she moved away, leaving behind all memories of him and, in turn, me.
I adjusted my hair, running my fingers underneath it and increasing the volume. The movement drew my focus away from the less than festive memories. I didn't want to think about Sofya anymore. My lip quivered as I tried to calm myself down.
I wanted Quinton. “This,” I said softly, gazing at the hollow person in the mirror, “is exactly what I need.” The young girl staring back at me with a vacant expression longed for something deeper, craving more love and a genuineness that didn't exist. This wasn't a fairytale, and I refused to risk my heart on fiction.
The door opened a crack, Quinton slipping in quietly. His dark eyes dragged along my body like a physical touch, banishing whatever remained of my hesitation or any semblance of regret. The scent of his cologne wafted through the air, musky and masculine. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his muscles rippling beneath a tight shirt. His hair was gelled back and kept short. Line art tattoos peeked out from under his sleeve. A single scar cut through his right eyebrow, although when asked about it, the story always changed.
His teeth glowed in the dim light as he drew his lips into a Cheshire grin. He twisted the lock shut. The sound of it echoed along the tiles and rattled my insides with the anticipation of what awaited me.
Quinton stalked toward me, the soft sound of his footsteps squeaking against that damn sticky tile. A shiver ran down my spine, along with heat straight to my core.
“Might I say you look extraordinarily sexy tonight?” he said, tugging me into his arms by my waist. He pressed his lips against my neck, nibbling against the sensitive flesh.
My breath caught in my throat, and that fluttering feeling erupted in my stomach. Nope, just a hookup.
His fingers dragged down between my skirt, wasting no time to push the thin fabric of my thong to the side.
“Exactly the type of wet cunt I need to slam my dick into tonight,” he hissed, his lips inches from my ear.
With his words, the intensity of pleasure surged as his finger glided over my slick entrance. I arched closer to him, his hot breath lighting a trail down my neck and making me quiver with excitement. Our breaths merged as his hands traced my back, settling onto my ass tightly.
“Do you want me to fuck you here?” he whispered.
The question didn't even need to be asked nor answered.
I leaned into him, keeping my balance. My hand traveled down the front of him and found the large bulge begging to be released from its confines. There was something electric and primal about what we were doing. In public. Sure, the door was locked, but anyone could walk in. They would find out exactly how dirty I've become.
“Wouldn't want your cock to go without getting a taste of this sweet, wet, tight pussy,” I said in response. His muscles tensed beneath me with each sultry word, his cock growing harder.
With a growl, he lifted me up by my ass and slammed me down onto the counter.
A moan erup
“Careful, now...” he muttered. His calloused hands rubbed across my mouth and down my chin. He tapped a single finger against my lips. His forehead leaned against mine, his dark eyes driving into my soul. They glistened with the lust he sought after—I, his prize. “Unless you want someone to hear how much of a filthy whore you are?” Quinton winked, leaning in for a kiss. A rush of need flooded me.
I smiled against his lips, my heart racing against my chest. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the musk of arousal as we kissed—a push and pull dance both of us were eager to partake in. Without warning, he bit down on my lower lip sending a sudden burst of pain through me. Then, a wave of pleasure joined it, eliciting another moan from my lips as an iron taste filled my mouth. I closed my eyes, savoring every moment as his lips continued to explore mine in a needy frenzy.
He pushed up my skirt and dragged me closer to the edge of the countertop. The cool surface clung to my bare thighs. I was a rag doll in his arms, at his mercy. His plaything to do with as he wished. Despite the overwhelming feeling of submission, I welcomed the sensations coursing through me. The idea that I was nothing more than his toy only added to my pleasure.
Quinton's fingers teased my slit, dragging across it. He smirked as I struggled to maintain composure. Our ragged breaths grew as sweat gathered along my chest. The low-cut blouse left little to the imagination. But what it did hide, Quinton was quick to release. His hands yanked at the fabric, the buttons popping open to reveal the black laced bra underneath.
“Dressed up just for me?” He growled against my ear as one hand squeezed my breast in his hand. The other traveled back to its original movement between my legs.
“Had to give you something to unwrap, no?” I teased, raising my eyebrow.
A moan caught in my throat as he flicked a finger against my clit, the pleasure vibrating through me.
“What was that?” he asked, leaning closer.
My legs opened wider as they wrapped around his hips. His hand caught between us, and his other inched up from my breast to my throat. His grip tightened around my neck, the pressure of the hold making it challenging to breathe.
His finger pressed against my swollen clit, moving rapidly now. The furious sensations morphed into electrifying pulses that brought to life an eruption of goosebumps along my arms. My chest heaved with each breath, while the firm hold around my throat muffled my moans.
The scent of sex lingered in the air as he expertly brought me to the brink of ecstasy and teased me with slow, deliberate movements before increasing the pace once again. Spots gathered in my vision as my eyes watered. The intense pleasure mingled with the ache of desire, the sensations building toward climax.
But then he stopped.
He leaned in close, releasing his grip around my neck. “I want you to watch as I make you cum around my cock.”
Without warning, he grabbed me roughly, spinning me around. My toes barely scraped the floor as he bent me over the cold countertop. Staring back at me was a lost, lustful, and hungry version of myself. My lipstick smeared across my lips, leaving a visible trail of where his mouth had ravaged me. My eyeliner had smudged and was running down my cheeks in thin lines—a testament to the passion of the moment. He traced his fingers over my spine. A trail of shivers followed his fleeting touch, rolling down my body.
The sound of his zipper echoed in the air. A predatory smile spread across his lips as he met my gaze in the mirror.
“Aren't you just a pretty little whore?” he muttered, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to rise. His hands trailed along the flesh of my arms, up my shoulders, to the back of my neck. I leaned into him, wanting to chase his touch wherever it would lead.
Quinton wrapped his hand into my hair, tugging it. My chin lifted, and my dark eyes watched myself in the mirror. I was no longer behind them, a mess of desire and avoidance. Quinton and I hadn’t been screwing for long—only a few months—yet there I was, letting this man use me in public. The sounds of far-off conversation and the thumping of the bass reminded me of the possibilities of being caught. Sickeningly, I enjoyed every minute.
The tip of his rigid cock hovered near my throbbing entrance, pressure and anticipation swiftly building. My legs quivered, shaking as he continued to tease me. He moved his cock along my slit, soaking himself in my wetness. He ever so slightly thrust the tip of his dick into me before popping back out. The fleeting taste of pleasure danced along my nerves, igniting the hot desire that bloomed in the pit of my stomach.
A twisted and proud smirk grew along his lips as he watched me tense. Every nerve in my body pleaded for release, a release he was dead set on making me beg for. I pressed my ass back against him, a pout on my lips. I wanted him to fill me. To be inside me. I scooted my hips back again, grinding my pussy against his hardened cock. Instead of giving me what I wanted, he yanked my hair harder.
“I'm enjoying myself,” he said, a bite in his voice. “But...”
Anticipation lingered in the air as he bent down, his hard chest against my back pressing me further into the counter. He kept my head lifted, one hand moving around to fasten itself around my neck. “Does the needy little whore want my hard cock rammed inside her?”
I closed my eyes, falling into the euphoria his dirty words gave me.
His strong hands squeezed my neck, making it difficult to breathe again. But my body wasn’t pleading for air. “Open your eyes, pretty one.”
I did as instructed, meeting his hard gaze in the mirror.
“Do you want me to use and abuse this cunt of yours? Show it what it's been missing?”
I tried to speak, but my mouth remained agape, unable to form anything coherent. My mind was scrambled, set on only one goal.
His thick cock thrust forcefully inside me, propelling me up the counter. With one hand on my waist and the other against my upper back, he pressed my face against the cool surface of the mirror, sending shivers down my spine. The sound of our bodies slapping echoed off the walls, our moans growing louder with each thrust.
“Keep those pretty eyes open,” he commanded. “Watch yourself come apart.”
He thrust forward with force and my ribs pressed into the countertop. As he stretched me, a mixture of pain and pleasure consumed me. Spots gathered at the edges of my vision again with my climax not far behind. The cold counter rubbed against my clit, the mixture of heat and iciness drawing more and more pleasure.
I watched intently as he waited, his eyes locked on mine and drawing out more and more pleasure with each passing moment. The sound of my moans grew louder and harder to contain as his palm wrapped tighter and tighter around my throat.
Each sensation built and built, dragging me closer to the release I chased. With one final, hard thrust, I felt my body give in. As soon as I let go, a wave of ecstasy washed over me. My mouth opened in a silent scream, my thigh muscles tensed, and my body convulsed as I came apart, cumming around Quinton’s hard, large cock. The feeling of release was intense, and for a moment, I was lost in the sensation of pure rapture that I never wanted to end. My body was floating, weightless, and free.
My mind cleared as he continued pumping in me. The walls of my pussy tightened around him. His cock grew harder within my core before his hot stickiness exploded inside me. Quinton tumbled over me, his hands falling away.
I gasped for air, sliding down so my feet touched the ground.
We stood there silently, with Quinton keeping me trapped between him and the counter as he collected himself.
Then his phone emitted a sharp and persistent buzz, slicing through the silence. He moved off of me, slipping the phone from his pocket. I twisted around, tugging my skirt down. Quinton adjusted himself, lifting his zipper; completely absorbed by the incoming message.
“Sorry, babe. I gotta get going.”
“Oh?” I said slowly, re-buttoning my shirt. I wanted the distraction tonight, and the company. My chest tightened as my body craved his continued touch. “Don't want to stay for drinks…and a possible round two?” I knew Quinton and I weren't exclusive—but I hadn't been taking the time to screw anyone else. Hell, I hadn’t even let a man buy me a drink since we’d started hooking up. I figured it was a form of inevitable self-sabotage, but I let it continue anyway.
