Ryder's Claim (Mafia Heirs 2)

"Stop playing me, principessa," he grunts. "You're going to get hurt, inevitably."

"You're the one playing me." I grab his hand, ignoring Ryder's sharp intake of breath as I place it on my breast. "Feel my heart beating, Ryder. It's not for Adrian. It's for you."

He doesn't answer me, merely stares into my eyes, even though it feels deeper, like he's making contact with my soul.

"Please." My voice grows softer as I plead with him. "At least admit it. Tell me I'm not crazy, Ryder. Tell me you feel something, too."

"I shouldn't." He closes his eyes, rubbing his temples with his free hand. "We should stop this."

"We should, but we can't." I squeeze his hand against my breast. "You know we have something special, Ryder. Now it's on you to decide if you want to fight for it."

"It's not my decision." He pulls his hand away, his voice heavy with emotion. "You don't understand that, Nicoletta. I'm adopted. I'm forever in debt to Bruno Bernardi and I cannot go up against him like this."

"But you'll lose me," I remind him as he paces the grass before me. "You'll lose me forever, you'll have to watch me with your brother, never touching me, never having anything –"

"Don't you think I know that, Nicoletta?" He turns to face me with a thunderous expression. "Don't you think I keep reminding myself of that every fucking second of every fucking day?"

"Then fight for me." I'm begging, but I'm also past the point of being embarrassed. "Please, Ryder, fight for me... I want to end up with you, not him. I want you to be my happily ever after..."

"Stop it." He glares at me from a few steps away. "You need to stop this – we shouldn't even be alone together, for fuck's sake..."

"I can't stay away from you." I'm telling him everything now. This could be my last chance of telling him how I feel. "I think… I think I'm falling in love with you..."

"You're a kid," he reminds me. "What do you know about love?"

I don't answer him. I feel like my life is falling apart right now. For years, I would fantasize about my wedding and my husband, hoping he would be less cruel than Papa was my whole life. And I want it to be Ryder, even though the world is against us.

"You could teach me," I whisper, stepping up to him and allowing my fingertips to tip-toe up his lapel. "You could show me how to love... how to love you, Ryder."

"Fuck, Nicoletta." A slew of curse words in Italian falls from his lips and he kicks at the grass. "We need to stop doing this. We're weeks away from your wedding."

"And a week from my birthday," I tell him, tugging on his tie. He's sharply dressed as usual. He always makes me swoon... Tall, dark and handsome, he's the embodiment of every teenage fantasy I've ever had. "Will you change your mind then? Will you finally give me what I want when I'm old enough for you? You won't be able to call me a kid then, Ryder..."

"You'll always be a kid." The words are barely above a growl. He looks pissed off and my heart beats even faster. "You're too young for me."

"Your brother's older than me and you," I remind him. "And he's the one who'll marry me, if you don't intervene."

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Don't remind me, principessa."

"This could be your last chance." I'm losing hope and confidence, begging him like this. "Your last chance to kiss me..."

"You're a fucking tease, Nicoletta." He looks me in the eye. "I'm going to make you regret all these provocations, if you don't watch it. Keep your mouth shut. You look prettier when you don't speak."

I feel tears springing to my eyes for real. "Fine, Ryder. Fine."

As I try to run off, he pulls me back, and I realize I never had a choice in the first place.

8

Ryder

"You're so fucking tempting." My words dissolve into a whisper against her lips. I can't bring myself to kiss her, can't let go of the control I have over my own body. The moment I do, it's all over, because I won't be able to stop myself again.

I remind myself once more that now is not the time nor the place. It's still not her birthday. She's still engaged to my brother. And yet I can't stop myself from kissing her. It's different this time – gentler, sweeter, so much more forbidden. I can't help myself from feeling all these emotions. I can't stop myself from wanting her.

She exhales against my lips and trembles as my arms wrap her up in an embrace. I force myself not to kiss her like her lover. I kiss her like she needs attention, like she deserves this, because something tells me her papa never gave her the things every person needs. She's starved for this, not just the lustful side, but for my attention, for me to care about her.