Gemma: A Mafia Forbidden Romance

“Yep.” He stalks closer to me. “Let me take you out.”

A laugh bursts from my chest. “What? We can’t. Someone will see.”

His grin only gets bigger. “That’s not a no, then. You’re scared someone will see us? I can handle that. Just say yes.”

“Liam.”

“Shh, just say yes, Baby girl.”

I should hate that nickname. I should find it demeaning. I’m a grown ass woman. Yet, I don’t.

“Where?”

He smirks. “Out of Providence and out of Boston. Give me your phone.”

I hesitantly walk back over to my desk and hand him my iPhone in its sparkly case.

“Do they read your messages?”

“I don’t know.”

He gives me an amused look. “You should pay attention to that.”

“Probably.”

“I added myself as Chloe. I’m a girl you met… in college?”

I nod my head. “At Brown.” I say.

“Good. We don’t say anything that can give us away via text, just in case.” Then he grabs a sticky note off Edie’s desk and begins to scribble an address on it. “Tomorrow night, 6 PM, meet me here. Don’t lose this.” He hands me the sticky note.

I take the loose piece of paper, eyeing the unfamiliar address.

I shouldn’t trust this man, my family’s enemy. He could be luring me into a trap.

I know better.

Really, I do.

“Gemma?” He says my name softly.

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to meet me there tomorrow?” His eyes are soft and he doesn’t look like the monster under my bed that he’s been made out to be.

“Yeah.” I whisper back. “I think I will.”

LEAVING THE HOUSE THE NEXT night is an issue.

Giuseppe can sense a change in me since Liam’s visit. We weren’t caught, thank God for that small miracle, but still, he can sense something is up.

My father is not a dumb man, and he knows me well. Better than most, save for Adelina, my best friend who now lives in New York City with her husband. My father was always kind to me, he babied me, I was and will always be his little girl. Which is why I can get away with as much as I do.

He eyes me suspiciously when I descend the stairs wearing a flowing multicolor skirt with an extremely high slit and black cropped tank. I look hot, even for my standards. My makeup is done and my hair flows in long loose waves. I matched a pair of black strappy heels to the outfit and when I looked in the mirror I felt damn good.

“Where are you going?” His voice is strained and I can tell he’s trying not to sound like a lecturing father.

I shrug, “You told me I need to get out more.”