Underboss (With Me in Seattle Mafia 1)

When his voice takes on that edge, I know he’s not to be questioned. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, come on. They’re cutting the cake.”

I follow my father but glance back to find Carmine leaning his shoulder against the wall, watching me. A slow smile spreads over his face.

It’s too bad he’s off-limits.

Chapter 1

~Carmine~

“When will you be back?”

I sip my whiskey and gaze out the window of the family’s private jet, waiting for the pilot to get the go-ahead to take off.

“Depends on how this goes.” I cross one foot over the opposite knee. “If it goes well, I don’t know. If she tells me to go fuck myself, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

My younger brother, Shane, snickers on his side of the call. “From what I know of Nadia, she’ll tell you to fuck off either way.”

“True.” I feel my lips twitch just as the pilot’s voice comes over the speakers.

“We’re cleared for takeoff, sir.”

I push a button next to my seat. “Excellent.”

“Have a safe trip,” Shane says. “Keep me posted.”

“Talk soon.” I hit end on the screen and blow out a breath. No detail hasn’t been scrutinized or picked apart. Nadia already knows me. There isn’t anything I can do about that.

But she doesn’t know what I have up my sleeve, and that’s in my favor.

Now, I just have to get down to Miami—literally on the other side of the country from my home in Seattle—and make her fall in love with me.

I blow out a breath and tip my head back against the fine leather seat.

Piece of cake.

* * *

In opulence and luxury, the resort rivals any in any major city of the world. I’ve stayed in some impressive places, from Monte Carlo to the Maldives, and The Island Resort ranks right up there.

I’ll be in the lap of luxury over the next few hours to days, and that doesn’t disappoint.

I checked in, settled into my suite, and now I’m on the hunt for my prey.

I don’t have to go far to find her.

I keep people on my payroll to give me the information I need the second I ask for it, and they’ve been on their toes when it comes to keeping track of the Bratva princess.

I walk through the resort spa to the private pool with its white chaise lounges, and sure enough, there she is, soaking up the sun in a pitiful excuse for a black bikini.

It’s hardly more than two scraps of fabric, but it showcases Nadia’s slim, tanned body to perfection.

At some point, she cut her blond hair into a short style that complements her stunning face nicely. I always forget how gorgeous she is until we’re face to face, and it hits me like a punch to the gut.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No,” she says without cracking open an eye. She looks serene. Relaxed. Almost as if she’s about to fall asleep. She looks like the spoiled daughter of a powerful man.

Which is exactly what she is.

It’s a comfortable eighty-two degrees outside as I lower myself onto the chair and stare at the Atlantic Ocean beyond the pool. I take a deep breath of salty air and turn to the woman next to me.

“It’s a nice day, isn’t it, Nadia?”

The use of her name has her slowly turning her head against the chair. She lowers her Chanel sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and takes me in from head to toe with those blue eyes.

“Carmine.” My name sounds like acid on her tongue. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Funny coincidence, isn’t it?” I grin and take the fresh glass of whiskey delivered by the waiter. “How’s the family?”

Her eyes are cool as she sits up and sips the iced drink at her elbow. The glass is sweaty as though it’s been sitting for a long while, ignored. I can’t help but watch her plump lips wrap around the straw.

With long, willowy limbs, full lips, ice-blue eyes, and light-colored hair, Nadia is a beautiful woman.

She’s also a very dangerous one.

“Everyone is fine. Thank you for asking.” She sets the glass aside. “And yours?”

“Oh, they’re doing well. What brings you to Miami?”

“Vacation.”

“Well, who can blame you? I’m here on a little holiday myself. It’s still too cold in Seattle. I needed some sunshine.”

“And you’ve found it.”

I nod once, watching her. She looks relaxed. Calm. As if she doesn’t have a care in the world. Then again, what could she possibly have to worry about?

Aside from me, anyway.

Because I’m about to chew her up and spit her out.

If I didn’t hate her family so deeply, I might pity her.

“Do you have dinner plans?”

Her eyebrows climb in surprise. “Are you asking me out on a date, Carmine Martinelli?”

“A dinner among friends,” I reply and shrug a shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Our families are very old friends.”