Ryder's Claim (Mafia Heirs 2)

"I'm out here, aren't I?" Painfully slowly, my betrothed's brother turns around to face me. His chocolate brown eyes glow in the darkness promising a world of trouble and my heart beats frantically in the cage of my chest. "A better question would be... what the hell are you doing talking to me, principessa? Shouldn't you be inside your little prison, being a good little captive and waiting for my brother?"

My brows furrow when he uses the Italian word for princess. I'm no princess. But it's not as if Ryder will ever find out my dirty little secret.

"What's it like?" The question slips from my mouth before I can stop myself, and I lick my lips nervously, eyeing the cancer stick in his hand. "Smoking. What's it like?"

"You never tried?" I shake my head and he approaches the balcony, steps up onto the low wall and suddenly his gorgeous face is right there, looking through the rails, right next to my feet. I'm afraid now, but he doesn't make a move to touch me. He just hands me the still smoking cigarette. "Try it."

I shake my head. "No, Papa would kill me."

"He's not here right now, is he? And I won't tell if you don't."

Something about his words is so deliciously forbidden I can't help reaching down with shaky fingers. Our skin doesn't touch as I take the cigarette from him – I make sure of it. The last thing I need is to develop a lustful crush on my husband-to-be's brother. Except something's telling me it might already be too late.

I take the cigarette from his outstretched fingers and thoughtfully raise it to my face. It smells like desperation and dark promises. I suck on the filtered end and cough when the smoke fills my mouth.

"Inhale it," he instructs me, his voice harsh and unforgiving. "Suck it into your lungs. Hold it."

I do my best to copy what I saw him doing, but I keep coughing. Still, I keep sucking on the cigarette until only half is left.

"Already a little addict," Ryder smirks. "Give it back. I'm not going to be responsible for your new shitty habit."

I pass the cigarette back through the railings. "So, it's okay for you to have bad habits, but not me?"

"You're not my problem, and I'm not going to be responsible for anything you do," he shrugs.

"I want more."

"More what?"

"I want my own cigarette."

He chuckles. "No."

"Please, Ryder."

He eyes me with darkened eyes. "We shouldn't be talking. You should be a good little principessa and go back inside your room and forget this ever happened."

"Why would I listen to you?"

He keeps glaring, never taking his eyes off me. "Because you know better than to disobey your future brother-in-law."

"If there's anyone I should be listening to, it's Adrian. Or Papa."

"They aren't here right now, are they?"

"No," I whisper, my eyes going to his. "They're not."

The silence is charged with unspoken things and I crave for him to say more. To acknowledge the sparks that flew between us earlier, in the dining room. I want him to admit he finds me attractive. I want him to tell me he craves touching me, seeing what's under my dress. The forbidden nature of this whole conversation is making me flush because I'm getting really fucking wet. Eagerness to touch between my legs is making me dizzy.

"Maybe we can share one more," he mutters. His words excite me, sending my head spinning. He lights another cigarette. This time we pass it between drags. Our fingers touch and the electric current running between us threatens to take me out. I try to speak, but Ryder shakes his head. "Don't talk, principessa. Don't say anything."

So I don't. We both know it's too dangerous. We smoke the cigarette in silence, and once we're done, he puts it out with his boot, eyeing me like a lone wolf watching his last meal.

"Go back to your room, Nicoletta,” he says and jumps down from the wall.

I fight the urge to tell him that's not my name. I nod, and disappear back into my chambers.

I leave the balcony door unlocked.

2

Ryder

I already know I shouldn't look at her twice. Nicoletta Carlucci is as off-limits as they come. Father would blow a fucking coronary if he knew I was flirting with the idea of touching her, fucking her, only last night. But being next to her, so fucking close, I could've climbed up the railing of her balcony, made me fucking crazy. It's not just her appearance that drives me wild. It's fucking primal. Her scent of sweet violets makes me fucking insane, hungry like an animal.

But there's something else about Nicoletta.

She's not the girl I met all those years ago in the maze on our estate. That girl had green eyes. But I still remember the other kid that was with her. The pale-haired, blue-eyed little girl that caught my attention and held it for years since then. This is her. I have no doubt about it. But I also can't wrap my mind around the situation. Why are there two blonde girls with the same name? Who is the real Nicoletta?