Lies of My Monster: A Dark Mafia Romance
Rina Kent
To every girl who’s proud of loving villains
AUTHOR NOTE
Hello reader friend,
If you haven’t read my books before, you might not know this, but I write darker stories that can be upsetting and disturbing. My books and main characters aren't for the faint of heart.
Lies of My Monster is book two of a trilogy and is NOT standalone.
Monster Trilogy:
#1 Blood of My Monster
#2 Lies of My Monster
#3 Heart of My Monster
For more things Rina Kent, visit www.rinakent.com
BLURB
In our brutal world, there’s no such thing as the truth.
Lies overflow until they become a reality.
But I’m determined to uncover what happened to my family.
One problem, though.
My monster, Kirill.
We are not the same anymore.
It’s become hard to trust one another.
But it’s downright impossible to stay away from each other.
It’s mad, chaotic, and wrong, but it’s us.
And we might have to pay for it with blood.
PLAYLIST
Saints – Echoes
Blur – MO & Foster The People The Raging Sea – Broadside Shoot and Run – Josef Salvat Cursive – VOILA & Kellin Quinn How Villains Are Made – Madalen Duke Bleeding Out – Molly Hunt Pyrokinesis – 7Charlot
Stay – Thirty Seconds to Mars A Beautiful Lie – Thirty Seconds to Mars Victim - Halflives
Cosmic Lover – Florence + The Machine Still Worth Fighting For – My Darkest Days
You can find the complete playlist on Spotify.
PROLOGUE - KIRILL
AGE THIRTEEN
If you lose, it’s your fault.
If you win, it’s natural.
Those are the words my father has engraved in my mind ever since I learned how to talk. I’ve come to the realization that I’m nothing more than a commodity to him. He invested in me, and he expects returns in any form he deems necessary.
Roman Morozov isn’t my father. He’s my keeper.
One day, I’ll get out of this fucking house and take Konstantin and Karina with me. Better yet, I’ll kick him and Yulia out and live in the mansion with my siblings.
Why should we leave when they’re the abnormal ones?
I step through the school’s gate and wait for the driver to pick me up. The gloomy sky casts a shadow of sadness over the school grounds, but a certain cheerful atmosphere fills the air since it’s the last day before the Christmas holidays.
Everyone attending this private school is either rich, influential, or both. It goes without saying that my father would enroll me in this fucking circus where everyone’s first question is, “What does your father do?” I can’t exactly answer with, “He kills people,” because that would be frowned upon due to their fragile morality. I settle for ignoring them instead.
Usually, Viktor would be glued to my side like a magnet, and his stonelike presence is enough to ward off unwanted attention. However, he was forbidden from attending today due to some guard event.
Whenever Roman feels Viktor has gotten too close, he doesn’t miss the chance to remind him and the rest of my personal security that they’re only guards—servants—he can get rid of whenever he pleases.
Or, more like, he does it to remind me that if he chooses to, he can isolate me from everyone. My father insists on grooming me to believe that my only role in life is being his heir. Not anyone’s friend, sibling, or son.
I’m just a fucking commodity.
A few students whisper as they pass by. I don’t have to hear them to know what they’re saying about me.
“I heard his father is in the Russian mafia.”
“He’ll become a gangster one day.”
“Don’t look at him, or he might get you killed.”
“Have you seen the way he glares?”
If Viktor were here, he’d terrorize these kids until they pissed themselves. Me? I couldn’t care less. Let them gossip all they like. After all, that’s the only thing weak people can do.
Adrian trudges in my direction then stops beside me. He’s a few years older than me, but since I was an early bloomer, I’m not that much shorter than him. While I ignore all the other kids, I have an excellent relationship with the teachers and make it my mission to charm them for good grades. Adrian, however, only talks to his closest guard, Kolya, who’s currently standing on the corner.
Adrian has made himself an outcast on purpose. His expression is closed off and his hands are shoved in the pockets of his khaki pants. I was a bit taken aback when he approached me since students usually avoid me like the plague.
He definitely has no reason to stay away from me, considering his father and mine are two of the New York Bratva kings.
He has no reason to initiate contact, either. We’re not friends.
In fact, the concept of friends doesn’t exist in our world. There are two categories—allies and enemies. He falls under neither.