THE IMPOSTER (The Gafanelli Mob #3)

Prologue

Prologue

GIOVANNI

Seven goddamned days.

The first con I’d ever pulled was on a woman I’d only known for seven goddamned days. It was that easy.

Her name was Morgan Daniels.

I couldn’t forget her face if I wanted to. I damn sure couldn’t forget her smell, and it was only after everything was over that I realized how unusual it was.

That first deception.

Probably because it wasn’t supposed to be a deception. Only a seduction… Such was the dark magic of my first full week in America.

Maybe I remembered her so well because she was the first. Maybe because I was nervous… Or maybe because after I completed the con, it was like taking a hit of a drug I couldn’t get enough of—a whiff of the impossible.

Maybe I remembered her because it was coming off one of the lowest moments of my life, or maybe I remembered Morgan Daniels because of the reason the con started in the first place—because of that little white lie. I told one fib to get out of trouble and it changed the course of my life as a young, well-traveled man, placing me seventy miles an hour on the road to debauchery and decadence.

That little white lie led to my destruction, gutting the seventeen-year-old runaway I’d been to the core. I was only a kid, a teen. But in that kid’s place, a man was built—a man who learned that all anyone in the world wanted to do was take—take and give nothing back. So, I learned to take with the best of them, learned how to use my persuasive power—and the right smile—to push and pull at people’s emotions, to make them see whatever it was I wanted them to see.

I wasn’t Giovanni DeSalt anymore… I was Mr. Nobody.

But after seven days, Mr. Nobody still had no home and a hungry stomach and I was forced to spend my nights sleeping in the pews of a church, grateful to be free of my stepfather’s fists.

Until Morgan Daniels came along.

Daughter of the church’s pastor, devil in a blue dress, she taught me what it meant to grab a piece of the American dream, how to schmooze, s*x and charm my way into wealth and happiness.

And I wanted it.

I wanted to be at the center of it all, to belong. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t. Not for long, anyway.

My American dream had turned into a nightmare once I realized that true health and wealth were only reserved for the lucky few, and even then you wouldn’t last long if you didn’t have the history within those millionaire mansions. I wasn’t a member of their coveted “clubs.” And as a stranger I was relegated to the outskirts, shifted to the shadows where I watched, listened and learned. Those little lessons wouldn’t come until later. For now, for those first seven days, I was still hers—wet behind the ears and completely naïve, thinking more with my d**k than my head.

Morgan Daniels was my savior… and even when a choir boy, Christopher, caught onto the pastor’s precious daughter’s interest in me and warned me against her sweet smiles and even sweeter perfume, I had to admit that I hadn’t listened.

I hadn’t paid much attention to Christopher’s insults and insinuations about the young Miss Daniels. I hadn’t paid attention to his comments about her “smelling like a baby p********e” and what they really meant. I don’t know that I cared or noticed.

At least, not until the moment right before I was going to f**k her.

And I wondered why I hadn’t bothered to notice any of it before. She smelled the way I imagined Tinkerbell’s skanky twin might. Like the “walk of shame” combined with a s**t-ton of sugar.

Twice the glitter. None of the innocence.

The half-girl/half-woman between my legs appeared to be the very epitome of that. But there was nothing “innocent” about the dirty look in her eyes as she ogled me on her “never-worked-a-day-in-her-life” knees.

She climbed up my body, fixing me with a look that said “f**k me” as she rose, the pink tinge on her cheeks making me think of a naughty little cherub.

She was just as blonde as one… with a body ten times as grown. Pastor Stanley’s only daughter whispered in my ear.

“Oh my God, Daddy… you’re so huge. I never would have guessed you’d be this big.”

I wanted to smirk. “Blame my jeans for hiding the second fact. Blame the other genes for the first.”

“I’ve been wanting to put my mouth on you since the first time I saw you in your pew,” she hissed. “Sitting there, looking so serious. I should have known you’d be better in the flesh. Mister Stern Face. Mister Big c**k. Daddy, I’m going to make you come so hard. I’m going to put a smile on that serious, sullen face of yours.” She looked down at my hanging c**k that’d just been in her mouth. “It’s just… you’re so big. I have to take my time.” She licked her lips. “My mouth isn’t big enough to take it all in.”

I had to laugh.

Her mouth was certainly big enough to talk as much as she did, and with all the bravado she’d brought to me this morning when she dragged me into her father’s office, trying to tease me with what lay under her silk skirt, I knew she’d make good on it.

She sure made good on the liberal application of her perfume. It was like taking a whiff of unicorn piss and every time she drew near, I had to remind myself to hold my breath.

If I didn’t, I’d never be able to go through with it. But I didn’t care. I convinced myself that I really liked her—maybe even loved her. At the moment, Morgan Daniels was quite literally my meal ticket… as long as I made myself hers.

I prepared to make a feast out of her body, turning her around, bending her over her father’s desk and pushing her fragrant, glittered hair and body away from mine. Brushing against the back of her cute little ass, I grabbed my d**k with one fist, pumping until I was rock hard.

I flipped the fabric of her skirt up and when she squealed, I prepared to grab the thin rubber sheath in my back pocket, shielding myself with it. I stared at the cabinet with the files I wanted, readying my body to wreck the pastor’s daughter’s pretty p***y… when I hesitated.

I didn’t know if I could do it… and the hesitation was my saving grace. I stepped back, putting my s**t back together. My d**k was already zipped back in my trousers when Pastor Daniels came stumbling through the closed door, his eyes half-wild and searching.

Morgan was shocked, to the say the least. My d**k, just rock hard, wilted like a kid hearing “no” in a candy store. My little blonde unicorn called out in shock. “Daddy!”

I didn’t know which man in the room she was talking to, but I knew which one was supposed to respond. I kept quiet, turning still as stone. Technically, I hadn’t been caught in the act, but the guilt was written on the walls, and as I tried to erase any emotion from my face, Daddy Daniels looked at me as if he was already expecting what he’d found.

When his stare slanted, I was sure that I’d been dimed out.

That f*****g choir boy.

Luckily, I was also sure of one other thing: I wasn’t going hungry again. Ever again. So, I did what I was starting to do best…

Lie.

And because of that lie, I was practically deacon of that church by the end of the week, and Christopher, for all of his “help,” was quietly removed from the house of worship while I looked on and smiled.

It was the beginning of the end.