Page 19 of Violent Delights

She smiles. “From my mother.”

“You’re close to her.” It’s not a question, but she nods anyway. “I wish I were closer to my folks. My mother isn’t too bad,” I tell her.

“My mother isn’t in the life. She’s just a bystander,” Lelia tells me, and all I can think about is how my father wants her and her mother dead. I should tell her. I should warn her. But that would be breaking my vow to the Montesanos.

Can I really do that for a girl I hardly know?

“Do you…? I…”

“Ask.” It’s an order for her to speak, and those wide eyes shimmer as she watches me in the gloomy shadows.

“Are you the Underboss?”

Most girls I’ve come across in this life are fearful of me, of the fact that I’m the man who can slice them limb from limb. They have heard about the things I’ve done, and they run, or they get so turned on, they want to fuck me.

“I am indeed.” I nod. “Are you scared, little star?”

Chapter 10

Lelia

It wasn’t part of my plan to come here. When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t going to meet him. I know I have to get over this strange connection, this infatuation with Domenico Montesano. It’s nothing more than a mistake that should never have happened. It serves me right for running off and kissing random strangers.

Instead of answering his question, I ignore it because if I were to be honest, he doesn’t scare me at all. I don’t think that’s something he would like. As the Underboss, he should scare me.

“My father has confirmed my engagement,” I tell him instead, even though I know he saw us last night. He was the shadow, watching, waiting.

“You don’t belong with him,” Domenico throws back before I have time to consider my next words. I glance at him, taking him in while there’s still light. Last night, he was bathed in shadows, in darkness, and now, I can see the man who stole my first kiss.

He’s grinning as I take him in. Perhaps he knows I’m staring. And I’m certain he doesn’t care. He looks like a bad boy from some teenage romance movie. He looks nothing like a man set to rule his mafia familia.

“And what makes you think you’re an expert on who I belong with or not?”

“Because last night when I kissed you, I made that pretty little pussy wet and needy,” he tells me, causing me to blush furiously. “And I know that if I were to do it again, those pristine little panties you’re wearing would be soaked.”

“Sex isn’t the be-all and end-all of a relationship,” I throw back, embarrassed that he’s right. I don’t want him to know it, but I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I can say that will stop his mind from wandering down that road.

He is a man.

He’s more experienced than I am.

“So,” he says, leaning forward as if he’s about to whisper a secret to me. “Did you not go to bed last night and touch yourself while remembering our kiss?” The challenge that flashes in his eyes makes my cheeks burn. The guilt that must be dancing in my eyes I can’t hide. “I thought so.”

Satisfaction paints his face like a breathtaking canvas. Domenico is inhumanely beautiful. A square jaw, a slight dusting of stubble, his brown eyes are the color of hot chocolate. His lips are full, pink, as if they’d been stung by bees. Perfectly curved to make any girl drool.

His hands are smooth, long fingers that I’m sure are expertly trained to get girls to drop to their knees. And then, there are those long, lean muscles that make up his solid frame. He isn’t packed with muscle; it’s underlying, as if hidden to ensure he can lure his prey in.

He’s built for sin.

And he’s made for violence.

The perfect man to take over as Boss when his father retires. I overheard Cassio and my father talking this morning. They’re convinced the announcement of Mr. Montesano’s choice to step down will come soon.

“Why did you come?” I ask him as we sit in the strange silence of the graveyard. I wonder if my ancestors can hear us. They would be rolling in their graves knowing I’m sitting with our mortal enemy.

“I needed to know you were okay,” he tells me, but he doesn’t meet my questioning gaze. As much as I want it on me, I realize it’s for the best. “And for some reason, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“That’s not a good thing.”

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