Dark angel, p.1
Dark Angel, page 1
Dark Angel: Dark Mafia Romance
The Dark Instincts Series, Volume 1
Alice Reyes
Published by Alice Reyes, 2025.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
DARK ANGEL: DARK MAFIA ROMANCE
First edition. December 14, 2025.
Copyright © 2025 Alice Reyes.
Written by Alice Reyes.
Also by Alice Reyes
Bundles
Kings of the Mafia: Mafia Romance Collection (3 Books in One)
Devil's Game
Devil's Game Mafia Series: 3 Books in One
The Devil's Heart: Dark Mafia Romance
The Devil's Empire: Dark Mafia Romance
The Devil's Fall: Dark Mafia Romance
Heirs of Vice
Heirs of Vice Mafia Series, 3 Books in One !
Unholy Vow: Dark Mafia Romance
Unholy War: Dark Mafia Romance
Unholy Flame: Dark Mafia Romance
Ink & Fire
Inked Hearts: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance
Inked Souls: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance
Inked Paths: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance
Ink & Fire Series
Ink & Fire Bad Boy Series, 3 Books in One!
King of Blood
King of Blood Vampire Duet, 2 Books in One!
Shadows & Roses: Vampire Romance
Shadows & Daisies: Vampire Romance
Poison to Ashes
Poison to Ashes Mafia Series: 3 Books in One
Every Kiss is Poison: Dark Mafia Romance
Every Touch is Hunger: Dark Mafia Romance
Every Promise is Ashes: Dark Mafia Romance
Small Town Romance
Heartland Romance Bundle (3 Books in 1) - Small Town Stories
Off Script: Small Town Romance
The Perfect Mess: Small Town Romance
The Sweet Escape: Small Town Romance
Standalones
Bound by Duty: Dark Mafia Romance
City of Thorns: Dark Mafia Romance
Sinner's Escape: Mafia Romance
The Cruel Temptation Series
The Cruel Temptation Mafia Series, 3 Books in One!
Cruel Games: Mafia Romance
Cruel Chains: Mafia Romance
Cruel Lies: Mafia Romance
The Dark Instincts Series
The Dark Instincts Mafia Series: 3 Books in One
Dark Angel: Mafia Romance
Dark Angel: Dark Mafia Romance
Dark Sinner: Mafia Romance
Dark King: Mafia Romance
Vows of the Throne
Vow of Silence: Dark Mafia Romance
Vow of Fire: Dark Mafia Romance
Vow of Sin: Dark Mafia Romance
Vows of the Throne Mafia Series, 3 Books in One!
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Alice Reyes
DARK ANGEL: DARK MAFIA ROMANCE
PROLOGUE
I’M LEAVING
SALVATION
IT’S TIME
YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE
ENCOUNTER
CAREFUL
REENCOUNTER
LET ME LIVE
INVESTIGATIONS
UNKNOWN CALLER
HAVE YOU MET
BOSSY BASTARD
I’M...
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Further Reading: The Dark Instincts Mafia Series: 3 Books in One
Also By Alice Reyes
DARK ANGEL: DARK MAFIA ROMANCE
My name is Alek Miles, and in this city, power isn't given—it's taken. I didn't inherit my empire. I built it with ruthless precision, crushing anyone who stood in my way. Fear keeps men obedient. Respect keeps them loyal. And control? That keeps everything running exactly as I want.
Until Grace Morgan.
She doesn't belong in my world. Too headstrong, too reckless, too unaware of what it means to attract the wrong kind of attention—mine. From the moment she crossed my path, I knew keeping my distance wasn't an option. Not when she looks at me like I'm just a man, not a threat.
She doesn't understand the game she's playing, but that doesn't matter. Because I do. And no matter how much she resists, how hard she tries to escape it— Grace is mine now.
Book 1 of 3 in The Dark Instincts Series — a pulse-pounding dark mafia romance where control, desire, and danger ignite.
PROLOGUE
The calm we thought we had was brutally shattered by the old man's booming voice, his shout ripping through the air, hitting every wall like a warning shot. "Get to cover!" he bellowed, and just like that, the whole place went ice-cold.
Chaos exploded. Bullets zipped, glass shattered into dust. I ducked low behind the kitchen island, my pulse slamming hard against my ribs. A slug whizzed by my ear, so close I could hear its angry buzz. I cursed under my breath, a bitter taste of fear coating my tongue.
"We're hit!" Nikolai's voice cut through the noise, raw and tight, totally unlike his usual cool. Adrenaline hit me like a jolt. My brain immediately pulled up the emergency playbook: hidden caches, weapons prepped for a scramble.
In the thick of the gunfire, Raúl, one of our best, ghosted past the doorway. My hands flew, fumbling for something, anything, in the kitchen cabinets. Ridiculous, thinking I'd be safe without my actual gear. God, I was such an amateur. "Damn it, damn it," I muttered, wrestling with the lock. Then, with a loud thunk, the cabinet sprung open, showing off a Beretta 92FS. Solid. Reliable.
The cold weight of the Beretta in my palm, I moved fast into the living room. Nikolai and Matteo were already knee-deep in it, laying waste to the intruders. Our name was on the line, no quarter given. Nikolai had already dropped one, but two more were still firing, pushing hard.
"Where's everyone else?" I yelled. "Other side. Pop's got Hailey," Matteo shot back, his voice ragged. My finger tightened on the trigger, and I jumped into the fray. I double-tapped one of them, aiming for the center mass. He crumpled with a gasp, and the other one spun around, caught completely off guard. I didn't give him a second, just put another round straight into his chest.
Then Pop appeared, weapon up, Hailey secured. Bullets still flew, our men fighting like hell. No way these bastards were walking out of here alive. Vengeance was coming.
The air was thick with flying lead, a symphony of destruction. Gunpowder smoke burned my nose, sweat slicked my face. I felt the weight of it all, not just a son anymore, but a shield for everything we stood for. "Fall back! Staircase!" I roared, trying to pull some order out of the madness. It was a long shot, but they got it.
The air was choked with muzzle flash, impossible to see anything clearly. Pop fell back, looking for cover. "You good?" I yelled over the din. "Took a hit," he grunted back. I stopped shooting, sprinting to his side. Blood was blooming fast from his chest. "No, no, no," I mumbled, pressing hard to stop the gush. "Damn it, Pop! Fight!" I ripped off my shirt, shoved it against the wound. Useless. The blood just soaked through.
"Nikolai!" I roared. "Pop's down!" Nikolai and Matteo froze, pure shock on their faces. "Bastards," someone hissed, raw with fury. Matteo slapped a cloth over the gore. "You'll be okay, Pop," he choked out, trying to sound solid but barely holding it together.
Nikolai and I were back in the fight when Pop's voice, raspy and thin, sliced through the noise. "Alek..." he whispered, barely there. My stomach dropped. "Yeah, Pop?" I leaned in, every cell focused on him. "It's on you now. Run it all... promise me you'll keep going." His eyes were just slits, and the world just went darker. "Pop, you're gonna make it," I said, gripping his hand so tight, like I could somehow pump life back into him. But he just shook his head, slowly.
"Don't lie to me, son," he coughed, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I know... I know." "Say it, son. Promise me," he pushed. My vision blurred with tears, but I just nodded, hard, like a goddamn rock. "You have my word, Pop. Always."
Then he delivered his last order. "Watch your sister. Keep her safe. Keep the family strong. I love you, my kids," he rasped, his eyes barely holding steady. I just held him, squeezed him tight, words stuck in my throat. "Love you too, Pop," I whispered, knowing it was the last time. His hand went limp in mine, his breathing a ragged gasp, then nothing. He was gone.
Just then, Hailey screamed, her voice cutting through the aftermath like a siren. I barely even heard the scattered gunfire outside anymore. I shifted Pop's body to a corner, out of sight, and the others huddled around, their faces etched with raw grief.
Hailey burst in, a whirlwind of shock, dropping to her knees when she saw him, when she knew. Tears streamed down her face, and watching her shattered me even more than I already was.
"Alek..." she sobbed, her voice tearing apart. I hadn't even registered the sudden silence, everyone around us just as broken. Even tough guys like Nikolai and Matteo had tears streaming down their faces. Pop was the anchor, the reason we were all here, together.
I met Hailey's raw, tear-soaked eyes, and it gutted me. "Pop," she pleaded, reaching for his still body. Nothing. "Talk to me, Pop!" she choked, a desperate wail. I tried to hold her, to say something, anything, but she wasn't hearing it. Her universe had just imploded.
The roaring chaos had gone quiet, leaving an aching emptiness. The attackers were gone, but they'd left behind a world that was permanent
María Elena, our long-time housekeeper, gently pulled Hailey away from the blood-stained floor, trying to shield her eyes from the horror. Pop's vibrant energy was gone, leaving just the body that had once been him, now a hollowed-out husk. But his presence, his mark on us, that would never fade.
A raw wave of grief slammed into me as I stumbled out to the patio, the weight of the loss crushing my chest. Our home, once a fortress, now looked like a war zone, scarred and torn from the fight. A choked, guttural sound tore from my throat, the pain echoing in the sudden quiet. I slammed my fist against a stone pillar, the sharp pain a welcome jolt, anything to distract from the gaping hole inside me.
The sun dipped, casting long, grim shadows over the wreckage. Our sprawling estate, a symbol of our power and legacy, was now a wreck. Bullet holes peppered the walls, shattered glass glinted like shattered dreams. The echoes of gunfire still hung heavy, a dark hum in the silence.
Further out, one of our men lay still, a fallen soldier who'd given it all. His sacrifice hit me hard, a stark reminder of the unbreakable loyalty running through our ranks. "Take care of Marco's family," I told Nikolai, my voice raw. "They're ours now. And find out who did this. Every last one of them will pay."
Nikolai and Matteo joined me, and we stood there, silent, taking in the wreckage. Grief hung heavy in the air, the weight of everything pressing down, almost crushing me. But I wouldn't break. I'd given Pop my word – to protect, to carry on what he started. No matter what it took, I'd make it happen. "This isn't over," I said, my voice barely a whisper, but with a steel in it I didn't even know I had. "This is just the beginning."
I’M LEAVING
ALEK P.O.V.
Today, we’re putting our father’s body in the ground. The sheer emptiness he’s left behind weighs heavy on my brothers; they’re just shut down, numb. Hailey, though, she’s feeling the full hit of this loss, wrecked, crying non-stop day and night. It’s been so brutal on her, she’s completely retreated, lost in her own deep sorrow, glued to pictures that are constant, sharp reminders of Dad and the life we used to have.
The quiet in this house feels off, like a powerful beast suddenly gutted and stripped of its fight. I kick that feeling to the curb, fast. Emotions are for poets, not for someone in my position.
With Hailey’s well-being totally locked in my focus, I headed upstairs, rapping on her door. No answer, but I heard a sudden, sharp hush on the other side. I knocked again, my voice low. "Sister, I know you’re in there." "I want to be alone. Go away," she snapped back.
"Try that again, princess," I muttered to myself, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. "I’m not going anywhere."
I leaned in closer to the door, my hand on the handle. "Come on, sis, just let me in," I urged, pushing past her defenses. Silence followed, but her intense grief seemed to seep right through the wood, palpable.
A beat of silence. Then another. The quiet was almost deafening. My patience was wearing thin, fast. "Hailey, don’t make me kick this door in." My voice was a low growl, a promise.
Not backing down for a second, I knocked a couple more times. This time, the door gave way, swinging inward. She looked a mess – eyes puffy and bloodshot, her hair a wild tangle. With a soft smile, I reached out, gently brushing away the fresh tracks of tears from her face. "I’ve got no more tears left. I feel dead inside," she whispered, her voice raw with grief, gripping my hands like they were her only lifeline.
"Don’t talk like that, little sister," I murmured, pulling her close, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "I swear to you, things will get better, eventually." But she was drowning in despair. "First, Mom walked out. Now, Dad’s gone. What else is there left to take from us?" she cried out. Feeling her profound pain, I just held her tighter, trying to be her anchor. "I know, I know. This has been so damn hard on you," I said, gently cupping her face, my thumb brushing her cheek. She shook her head, not wanting to put it on me. "Not your fault, big brother," she breathed, the words heavy with sorrow.
I let out a slow breath. "Life’s a bitch, Hailey. Always has been, always will be. But we’re still here. That’s what matters right now."
I guided her gently into the room, sharing a quiet moment, a small space of comfort. "You still thinking about school?" I asked softly, concern evident in my tone. "I don’t wanna leave. I just want to stay here," she whispered, her voice fragile with uncertainty. I needed to be sure. "You really mean that?" I asked, giving her room to breathe, to articulate her feelings. "Yeah," she confirmed, a quiet resolve in her voice. "Alright," I conceded, letting the words out. She needed an anchor, and right now, this was it. My gut twisted, but I knew she needed space, so I let her be.
Before I turned to leave, I paused at the doorway. "Just... don’t give up on yourself, Hailey. Dad wouldn’t want that." I was out the door before she could answer, the weight of everything pressing down on me like a ton of bricks.
Downstairs, my brothers were waiting, their faces mirroring the same heavy sorrow. "She’s staying here," I told them, my voice a mix of resignation and understanding. María, our rock-solid caregiver, came over, her eyes steely with resolve. "I’ll stay with her," she stated, no room for argument.
Before we headed out, I locked eyes with Raúl. "Keep things tight while I’m gone," I told him, my voice low and firm. He gave a slight nod, knowing exactly what I meant – any mess, and I’d be dealing with it myself. I gave him a quick, silent thanks, acknowledging his stepping up, and then my brothers and I, together, we headed for the burial.
My brother put a hand on my arm. "She’ll be alright. She’s lucky to have you, you know. I’m useless with this kind of talk," he mumbled. I shrugged, looking away. "Just doing what needs to be done."
"Yeah, well, someone’s gotta be strong," he murmured, scuffing a small stone on the fresh dirt with his shoe. "Doesn’t mean I like it." I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my face blank, to show nothing.
A crushing sadness hung heavy as we stood at our father’s final resting place. Time seemed to just... stop as we paid our respects, our hearts heavy with the brutal reality of losing him. In that shared ache, we found a sliver of dark comfort, a grim understanding that, with time, we’d somehow find the grit to keep pushing forward.
As the priest droned on, his voice a monotonous hum, my mind started to wander. I saw my father’s calloused hands, smelled the gritty mix of motor oil and stale cigarette smoke that always clung to him. He was no saint, but he was our father.
A hot surge of pure fury began to build inside me. "Damn it, old man. You left us in a hell of a mess," I thought, clenching my jaw. The weight of the world, and my entire family, now rested squarely on my shoulders. A load I hadn’t asked for, but one I’d damn well carry.
GRACE P.O.V.
"Dad, you know that’s not true. I’m not like that. I just went to talk to my friends," I tried to reason with him, praying he’d get it. His words cut deep, and I couldn't hold back anymore. "You’ve never cared about me, have you? I’ve always just been a problem, a weight dragging you down."
"Because it’s true... you’re ungrateful!" he yelled, his anger rising, making my stomach churn.
"You know, Dad, I still love you, no matter what," I said, tears blurring my vision. I spun around, heading for my room, feeling his silent stare burn into my back.
In my room, the fight still echoed in my ears, a tight knot in my chest, and the tears just kept coming, hot and endless. I stumbled to the window, slumping onto the sill, staring out at the distant glitter of stars and the big, bright moon. "Every tear is like a tiny star in the sky... because I know after the storm, there’s always a calm," I whispered to myself, trying to find some sliver of peace in the quiet night.
The raw ache of feeling unloved, unwanted by my own parents, twisted inside me. Why couldn't they just... care? I wondered if anyone would ever give me an answer to that gnawing, persistent question. Drained, utterly spent from the emotional rollercoaster, I scrubbed at my face, but it was useless. The tears just kept falling, a constant stream of my deepest anguish.
