“Don Lucciano asked me to bring you to him, miss, but he doesn’t want me to hurt or bother you in any way. Please, just come.”
“Why?” I ask.
He sighs. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Is it to talk about my parents?”
“Your parents?” The man narrows his eyes. “Who are your parents? Should I know them?”
A thrill moves through me.
I’ve been marked by who I am, the princess of the Bonetti Family, all my life. Though, we’re not much of a family anymore. Now this man is looking at me like I’m just another stranger.
“Do you know who I am?” I ask. “Does Don Lucciano?”
“He didn’t use your name,” the man replies. “Should we know?”
My heart is thumping, a smile touching my lips.
Life’s going to get pretty dark from this point on. There’s going to be so much pain, so much misery.
Why not be somebody else for a little while?
“I’m a famous painter,” I say, giving voice to my deepest wishes. “I thought you might have been to one of my gallery openings.”
The man laughs gruffly, then quickly kills the laugher, as though he fears the consequences of openly mocking me.
If Don Lucciano doesn’t know who I am, why would he order this man to show me respect? And why does he want to see me?
“Will you come?” the man asks.
“Let me tell my friend first,” I say.
“He said to bring you–.”
“Either drag me away or let me tell Izzy.”
He waves a hand. “Fine. Be quick. Please.”
I walk across the room, finding Izzy dancing with a man I recognize from around half a year ago. His name is Mike, or Micky, or something like that.
That’s another thing Izzy, and I don’t have in common.
She’s way more active on the dating scene, which isn’t hard since my dating experience is zero.
“What is it?” she asks when I take her aside.
I explain it all, and she touches my arm.
“What does he want?”
“I have no idea. I’m not sure he even knows who I am.”
“You need to be careful, Lena. Luca Lucciano, that…that’s hardcore, speaking to him. Every word is like a landmine waiting to go off.”
“So what?” I say, feigning a large portion of the bravado but not giving a damn. “This is my last night of true freedom. Tomorrow, I’ll be locked in the hotel. And the day after–.”
I cut myself off, unwilling to think about after in any detail.
“Okay,” Izzy replies. “I get that. But just be careful, okay?”
“I will.”
CHAPTER
THREE
Luca
I finish the last of my coffee, slamming the mug down and leaning back in my office chair.
My tattooing station is in the corner, but there’s a white sheet over the whole thing. It’s always that way, drawing curious looks from anybody I’m meeting with.
That’s how I like it. Let them imagine it’s some torture device. Let them dream up a thousand scenarios to keep them scared and obedient so they don’t go into the city and hurt innocent people.
They know they’d have me to answer to.
My mind is burning with the image of the woman.
It’s like a tattoo on the inside of my eyelids every time I close my eyes.
I thought she might fade when I left the party and came into the back room.
As the pumping of the music grew quieter, I thought maybe she’d drift away, and I could let go of this crazed compulsion.
But it’s only gotten stronger.
I only looked at that woman for a few seconds, and she’s had more of an effect on me than anybody ever has.
I can’t explain it. I can’t even try to.
I knew this would happen, though, one day. I hoped for it. Perhaps I stopped believing anybody could pierce this thick armor I’ve had to grow, the armor that comes along with being the boss and making the tough calls.
But she has.
I don’t even know her name.
A knock comes at the door, loud and confident. None of my men would ever knock like that.
“Yes?” I call.
“Um, hello.”
Her voice cuts deep, making my cock twinge, making my heart flutter.
Flutter.
I bite down, hardening myself.
A Don’s heart doesn’t god damn flutter.
“Come in,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as I can.
The door opens slowly, and then my woman steps inside.
My woman, this stranger.
Nobody has ever made me feel this weak, this not in control. But there’s no other way I can think of her.
She definitely doesn’t belong to anybody else, can’t belong to anybody else.
My body is taut as I drink in her full figure, her clothes hugging onto her wide hips, her breasts juicy and plump and made for shameless indulgence. Her ass is wide and round and looks ready to be massaged and spanked.
But it’s her face that truly captivates me.
Her cheeks are flushed. There’s a fierce twist to her lips as though she’s fighting against the redness. Her eyes are wide like she’s trying to be strong, but with a prey-like vulnerability that has me almost howling.