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To all the girls who go weak in the knees when he says, “You’re doing such a good job, baby.”
As soon as I removed my hand, she sank her surprisingly sharp teeth into my forearm. I remember staring into those stormy-gray eyes as she drew blood and thinking, “Fuck, this woman is beautiful.”
Gentlemen don’t look at engaged women the way I look at Gemma Garzolo.
“Is that how you talk around your father?” “You’re not my father.” “No, but I’ve been called daddy on occasion.”
I glance over my shoulder to where Gemma is standing. Whenever she’s around, I feel an inexplicable need to know exactly what she’s doing.
I fucking love bread. It’s one of life’s greatest pleasures.
he gets it!!!!
Rafaele’s platinum cufflink winks against the light streaming through the stained-glass windows. It’s engraved with the letters RM.
RM = Rap Monster
“If your fiancé knew how feral you are, he’d demand a refund,” he growls. His face is so close, I can make out a tiny scar on his right cheek. “He thinks he bought himself an obedient wife, when what he’s really getting is a brat.”
If she was engaged to me, I wouldn’t squander a single second. She’d be glued to my side. If she wanted to eat, I’d feed her. If she wanted to sit, it would be on my lap. If she wanted to shower, I’d wash every inch of that perfect skin and then dirty her up again.
I’m a made man. An underboss in the most powerful clan in the Camorra. And this girl—one engaged to another man nonetheless—has me wrapped around her finger.
“If you knew how much pleasure I get from spending money on you, you’d realize you’re doing me a favor by getting that necklace.”
WHEN IS IT MY TURN
Our eyes meet, and I see the universe inside of hers.
“You are the air I breathe. You are the ground that keeps me standing. Without you, I’m nothing, Gemma.”
