Wrong Number. Right Don. (Sinful Mafia Daddies, #3)

by Natasha L. Black

As I’m about to zip it shut, Mia tosses a small, sleek object inside. I fish it out and examine the unexpected addition. “What is this?” “It’s a taser,” she says nonchalantly, as if she hasn’t just thrown a literal weapon into my bag. “And this…” she says as she reaches into her oversized tote bag and pulls out a little canister, handing it to me, “is mace. Just in case you’re ever in a sticky situation.” I laugh uneasily, realizing it hasn’t even occurred to me that I could be in danger. Of all my anxieties, that possibility never crossed my mind, and now I question that oversight. “Do you really think I’ll need these?” Mia drops down onto the edge of my bed, elbows braced on her knees, watching me closely. “I think you’re stepping into an unfamiliar situation with no idea what to expect. Of course I hope you won’t need them. But I’d rather you have something and not need it than need it and not have it.” I zip the bag closed, pressing down as though I can pack away the nerves knotting in my stomach along with my clothes. “He’s not a serial killer,” I say quietly, more of a reassurance for my own nerves. “Probably not,” she agrees with a shrug. “But he is rich, secretive, intense, and hot in a really dangerous way.” I shoot her a look, but she just raises her eyebrows like she’s daring me to argue. I can’t. “I’m not in any way questioning your judgment about this. You’re neither stupid nor reckless. And I respect the hell out of your reasons for taking this job. You’re lo...