Page 54 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince
“Please, Siena.”
She practically shoves me out the door. I grab my flowers before she can kick me out.
I’m sick of this.
I march across the island to Dario’s hut. When I get to his door, I pull the flowers from the bouquet and scatter them across his door, tearing some petals for good measure.
There’s something he’s not telling me. Something more going on here.
As I return to work, my mind spins with theories. I’ve noticed Edoardo, Vittorio’s brother and Dario’s uncle, with a scowl onhis face, sometimes looking at his brother like he’s angry. Could he be behind it, but why? I need to think about this.
I go to the artificial waterfall, checking the surrounding area, visualizing the party in my mind. As I go about my work, I can’t help but think of all the things that could go wrong.
About thirty minutes later, Naaif finds me again. With another bunch of flowers.
“Siena,” he says.
“Again?”
He grins. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
I take the flowers and read the message.
I can do this all day, beautiful.Dariox
A smile spreads across my face, and warmth swells inside me.Thatwarmth: the Dario heat, specific to him, attacks not only my core but my heart too. Why does he have to be such an infuriatingly lovable douche?
Setting the flowers aside, I go on with my work, my mind whirring. I can’t stop thinking about the look on Rosy’s face.
When I’ve got time for a break, I carry the flowers across the island, back to my room. Dario has left the key under the mat for me. He’s already moved my stuff inside. I walk into the suite, feeling weirdly lonely. Which is silly. I stayed with Dario for one night.
Carrying the flowers outside my room, I look across the small pier at his door.
Would it be lame if I pulled the same thing again?
Does he deserve any better?
I walk up to his door, hesitate, then turn away.
Then I spot him at the end of the pier, his hands in his pockets. It’s difficult to be sure, but I think he’s smirking.
CHAPTER 20
DARIO
Siena leans the flowers against the door and then marches down the pier. She’s wearing another flowy dress that settles against her body, outlines her, and emphasizes her curves as she walks.
She stops just short of me, like she’s scared to come too close.
“Do you get off on playing with women’s emotions?”
“What?”
“Don’t give me that pretty-boy, oh-so innocent smile, Dario. Don’t act so naïve. It’s a simple question.”
“Has something happened?” I take her hand, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her. She lets me hold her hand for a moment, then snatches it away.
“First, you decide you don’t want to stay in the same roo?—”
