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For every reader who prefers their heroes to be of the morally gray variety.
“If you refuse to marry the woman I chose for you, then you will not…”
“You cannot be the head of this family.”
Lorenzo was born to be the head of this family.
“You are a feisty little kitten,” he sneers.
“She actually tried to fucking shoot me,” the other one says incredulously as he follows us. “And she threw the fucking gun at my head.” “Well, at least she’s got a terrible aim,”
“Your brother owes my family a lot of money and I want it back.” “I told you I don’t know where he is,”
“Then I’ll have to take something else of value to him.”
“I think you’re overlooking his most important asset, Katerina,”
“You,” Dante says deadpan.
“And when I say I’m taking payment, I do not mean a payment plan. I’m talking about you.”
The head of the Mafia is sitting in my kitchen, talking about torturing my brother as calmly as he would talk about what to buy for dinner.
“But I haven’t found your brother,” he goes on. “Instead, I found you.”
If this is Dante Moretti, that means Max is Maximo DiMarco — ruthless enforcer and unhinged psychopath. Dante slaughtered his fiancée and her entire family on the eve of his wedding.
“I think I’ll just take you instead. I’m sure I’ll find a use for you at my house. You can work off your brother’s debt for him.”
There’s something about her that intrigues me. I looked into her when we were trying to find Leo. She trained to be a nurse,
She’s a mystery. A puzzle I want to solve.
And absolutely nothing to do with the way her blatant defiance and disregard for who I am made me harder than I’ve ever been in my life. No. Not that at all.
“Kind of a nice room for a prison cell,” she says, full of snark. Goddamn it, I want to throw her on the bed and fuck that attitude out of her. Perhaps, later.
“I am not having sex with you,” she snarls. “I don’t force women into having sex with me. I certainly don’t have to pay them for the privilege.”
Maybe I should just fuck her and get it over with. Get her out of my head so I can focus. Except that I don’t want to simply take Kat; I want to own every single part of her. And the worst of it is, I have absolutely no idea why.
“Because it makes you look weak when you bring home strays instead of putting them down.”
He made me head of the Cosa Nostra to punish my older brother and to drive a wedge between us that could never be healed. Lorenzo and I were unbreakable when we stood together, and he hated that.
While I never wanted this legacy, it’s mine now.
“Whatever you wish you’d done, Papá, it’s too late now. You made me the head of this family, so you will hold your tongue before you ever dare to call me weak again.”
I brought her here to work off her brother’s debt, right? So why can’t I get the image of me crawling over her and spreading her thighs wide open until I can sink inside her out of my head?
If I wasn’t being held prisoner by a psychopath, it could almost be fun.
“I don’t want to be used for anyone’s entertainment, or their pleasure,” I whisper instead. “You won’t be.”
He leans down and whispers something in her ear, and the rage that burns through my veins at the sight of them together is unexpected and vicious.
“Keep your fucking hands off her.”
“My men are too busy to be distracted, and you, kitten, are a distraction.”
“Whose shirt is that?” “Mine,” she whispers.
“Whose was it then?”
“An ex-boyfriend’s. I like it because it’s soft. Nothing to do with him.”
“So, you’re walking around my house wearing anothe...
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“Take it off!” I command.
“No.”
“Take it off, or I will do it for you.”
I take off my shirt and hand it to her, taking the one she was just wearing and tossing it into the trashcan nearby.
“Why the fuck did you think you could touch what belongs to me?”
“I-I didn’t think she was with you, Boss.”
“She is in my fucking house, stronzo, that means she belongs to me.”
“Touch her again and I will bury you, Lenny. You ever even speak to her again without my permission and I will cut out your fucking tongue. You understand me?” “Y-yes, Boss,”
Kat is mine.
I get closer that I see they are white t-shirts, with a folded piece of paper sitting on top.
As you’re so fond of wandering around the house in men’s t-shirts, you might be needing these.
“You might hate me, Kat, but I bet if I slide my hand into your panties, you’d be wet for me,”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Fuck, you’re not just wet, kitten, you’re soaking,”
Placing his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth, he sucks them clean while maintaining a level of eye contact that feels too intimate for whatever this is between us.
