Page 3 of Mafia Daddy's Girl

He's tall, at least 6’4, and handsome in a classic way, his dark hair slicked back and his features strong and sharp. A neatlytrimmed beard frames his jaw, and the suit he's wearing is tailored to his broad shoulders. Alessandro is tall, and even in his suit, I can see he’s packed with muscle. It's obvious he's powerful, even without the family ring marking him as the next leader, but there’s a sharp intelligence in his deep brown eyes that I’m happy to see. Strong and smart. A deadly combination for me, apparently.

The moment our eyes met, something passed between us. An undeniable, electric pull, and for a split second, I thought I might be dreaming. A shiver started from my toes all the way to the top of my head, making my pussy throb and my nipples tighten.

But then Marco walked out, and the spell was broken. Fucking Marco. I've never liked him, and his interruption only put him more firmly on my shit list.

Now I'm back at my desk, absentmindedly shuffling papers and pretending that every ounce of my concentration isn't tuned into the sounds from the closed office behind me. How am I supposed to work from now on with Alessandro at my back?

The thought of him behind me in a totally different way, naked and pounding into me, flashes through my mind, making me ache between my legs. I nearly drop the papers in my hands.

What the fuck, Emmy. Get a hold of yourself.

There is definitely a spark between us. Or maybe a flame. I’m sure I’m not imagining it.

God, I need a drink. I have a reputation to uphold here in the DeLuca crime family, or it might be more accurate to say a lack of reputation. No one notices me, and even those who do don'tgive me a second thought. Drinking on the job would be way out of line for invisible little Emmy Moretti.

"Emmy."

Startled, I turn to face the office doors and gulp. Alessandro is calling for me. He's leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, and his dark eyes are fixed directly on me.

"Yes, Mr. DeLuca," I manage to ask, forcing myself not to fidget under his gaze.

"Sandro," he corrects, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come into my office. I have a few things I want to discuss with you."

I've been in this office a million times before, and it's comfortingly familiar, except for the fact that I'm now alone with Alessandro. He sits in the worn leather chair that Enzo loved so much, and I take the seat on the other side of the desk.

"Do we have a cleaning service?"

The question is unexpected. "We have a cleaning lady. She comes in once a week."

"Hm." Sandro pushes a handwritten list across the desk, his script neat and looping. "I need you to hire a decorator and cleaning crew for this office and Enzo's penthouse. I'm moving in, and from the looks of this place, his preferences aren't going to match what I need from my living and work spaces. These are the parameters and the must-haves. Otherwise, I trust your judgment."

My fingers brush his as I pick up the paper, and again that connection is there, making my heart race. Sandro notices, too, because his lips twist into a smirk.

"Y-yes, Mr. DeLuca."

"Sandro," he corrects again, then leans back. "Now. Tell me about yourself."

"What would you like to know?"

"Let's start with your background. You've been working for Enzo for a long time, haven't you?"

I nod, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. I'm not used to this much attention, and the way Sandro is looking at me makes me nervous. "My father was an enforcer. After he died during a firefight, your uncle took care of my mother and me financially. He hired me to be his assistant when I turned eighteen about four years ago, and I've been here ever since."

Sandro leans forward, his elbows on the desk. "I have a good sense for this sort of work, Emmy, and I get the feeling that Enzo didn't hire you just to be a secretary, right? If my instincts are correct, which they usually are, I bet he hired you to be his eyes and ears when he wasn't around."

He's good. Really good. I swallow. "I'm not sure what you're suggesting."

"You're loyal and intelligent, and that makes you invaluable." Sandro grins. "Don't worry, it's not a secret anymore. Your loyalty will be rewarded. In the meantime, I'll be keeping you very close." He stands, stalking around the desk until his large hands rest on my shoulders. "Very, very close."

My breath catches. Sandro is touching me. Sandro, the new Boss, who's hot and dangerous and is making me feel things I've never felt before. "How close, exactly?"

"Let's just say that I plan for you to have a much more enjoyable time working under me than you did with my uncle." His thumbs press against the back of my neck, rubbing slow circles over my skin. I gasp, and his hands move down my back, tracing the line of my spine. "I take care of what is mine, Emmy, and as long as you're here, you're mine."

Arousal and panic hit me in repeating waves, and the next words that burst from my mouth take us both off guard. "He let me live in the basement apartment," I blurt out. "Mr. DeLuca. The old Mr. DeLuca. My mom retired to Florida, but Enzo wanted me close and---"

He chuckled. "I have no intention of kicking you out, Emmy, but thank you for your honesty. Were there any other special circumstances attached to your employment that I should know about?"

I shake my head.

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