Page 41 of Mafia and Gold Digger

Every stroke of his fingers claims more of my sanity, more of my pleasure. “Saint,” I beg. “Please, I’m...”

“I know you are.” But still, he fucks me with his fingers, destroying my willpower and control until I’m whimpering against his mouth.

His eyes meet mine as I squeeze my thighs around his hand.

He manages to grit out one word between his clenched teeth as his hot gaze scorches me. “Come!”

I press my face to his neck and smother the cries that pour from my throat as I come apart around his fingers. My pussy pulses, spreading shudders of pleasure throughout my whole body until I slump against him, clutching onto him just to stay standing.

I hold onto him like this until my vision clears and I’m able to smooth down my dress. His head dips down to kiss me deeply again. And then he takes my hand and leads me back inside the casino.

I huff out a breath. How can he do that? Slip his fingers into me and order me to come, then act as if nothing happened at all?

He’s so damn cool, calm, and collected all the time.

Except that I know he isn’t.

Because I’ve just seen a very different side to him...

CHAPTERTEN

EMERALD

By the end of the week, I still haven’t seen Saint again. Was what happened the other day all just because he wanted to check whether my dress was stolen? Or was it actually because he’s a little attracted to me…? Honestly, I just don’t know what to make of it or him.

As I have a very quick coffee with Jacquetta and Nicki at the casino before my shift starts, I look at my manicure. It’s in a complete mess, but I’m too tired by the end of each day to even have the energy to paint my nails. My repetitive handwashing has been a bit out of control lately. I keep telling myself to just focus on the kids. Seeing them looking happier is what keeps me going.

“Have you heard from Saint lately?” I ask Nicki. When I first told Nicki what happened with me thinking Saint was a cop, she’d chuckled and said that he had a dark sense of humor. I’d been intrigued to know how Nicki knew the elusive Saint. She’d explained that her mom’s side of the family lived in Philadelphia, and whenever she went to visit them there, Saint would drop in to check how she was doing. Basically, Christian asked Saint to keep an eye on Nicki whenever she was in Philly.

“No. He’s gone back to Italy from what I hear.”

“How long until he returns to the States?” I don’t know what makes me ask this.

“No idea. But from what Christian said, it sounds like work and that it’s an open-ended thing. Last time, he stayed in Italy for a few months.”

My heart dips for some reason. I didn’t expect something like that to happen between us and him to just then disappear. “How well do you know him?” I ask.

She wrinkles her nose. “Not that well. He’s not the type to let anyone in. But like I said, he checks up on me when I’m in Philly, and he has a couple of his men guard me while I’m in his city. He usually takes me out for a catch up over coffee or lunch.” She shrugs. “He knew my brother and father.”

I don’t want to make Nicki sad by talking about her parents, so I change the subject. I tell them I’ve started a distance learning course on bookkeeping. I’m determined to get a better job and improve things for myself and the kids. It may be hard to get a decent job with my surname and my obvious connection to the Imperiosi via my dad, but New York is a big city, and there must be something out there for me.

I can’t help my mind wandering back to what happened with Saint. And exhilaration runs through me as I relive every look and touch he gave me.

But when I reach the part where his fingers snagged the security tag on my dress, a scowl settles on my features. And I tell myself that what happened between us was merely a physical response by my body to his touch. Because that day was just another one of his tricks—making me think he liked me just because he wanted to get up close to check if my dress was stolen.

Yeah, it was just a physical response—nothing more. Because I could never fall for a beautiful liar like Saint Veneti.

* * *

This evening is yet another one of looking at apartments. Seriously, it feels like an actual part-time job now with how much time it’s taking up. And whenever I’m working or out looking at possible places to rent, I have to find a sitter or a friend to help out if the kids aren’t in school. Because there’s no way in hell I’m leaving them around Enzo again if I’m not there to protect them.

This is the fifth building I’ve been to today. Every other viewing before this has been a bust. Apartments that aren’t bigger than a broom cupboard. Buildings that should come with a health warning. Deposits that are too expensive. And this one is even worse than the previous four. I’m exhausted between working, looking at apartments, and looking after the kids, but I’ll carry on the search tomorrow. I’m not giving up until I’ve got the kids a home where they’ll feel safe and protected.

Heading home, I pick up the kids from the sitter and get them home and to bed. Once they’re all tucked in, I decide to watch some TV and try to unwind. I must have fallen asleep on the couch because the next thing I remember is Enzo and my mom coming home. They’re both wasted. Mom goes straight to their bedroom. I haul myself to my feet and head to bed, but Enzo blocks my way. “Make me something to eat,” he demands.

The alcohol fumes from his breath wash over me, making me recoil with disgust. “It’s late,” I murmur. “I need to get to bed. I have to be up early tomorrow. There’s a loaf of bread if you want to make some toast for yourself.”

“I don’t know what makes you act so superior,” he snarls. “You’re a stuck-up cow just like your sister.” He gives an evil smirk. “But I know what would take that little bitch, Milena, down a peg or two.”

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