Page 25 of Marrying the Mobster
She sits on the bed and pats the mattress beside her. “Sit. You’re about to get a crash course on etiquette in the presence of thebratva.”
13
Diego
“You mind telling me what the hell you’re thinking?”
I glare at Jovan, who’s waiting with me for Marcella and Elena to come downstairs. We’ve only been standing here a few minutes, but Jovan already has me ready to strangle him.
“I mean,” he continues with a shake of his head, “you’re bringing a hot date to the party where you’re supposed to start making googly eyes at your future wife.”
“Nataly isnotmy future wife,” I snap. “And I came up with a plan to make sure Oleg can’t force the issue. I’m going to secure this alliance without having to walk down the aisle.”
Jovan’s dubious expression turns into a shocked one. “Youhave a plan?”
“It came to me early this morning.”
I thought of it when I stood staring at Elena while she slept, like some kind of pervert. Once I pushed past the simmering attraction that had me wanting to climb on top of her, I realized I’d been going about this business with Oleg all wrong.
There is only one sure thing that will make him back off the subject of marriage to Nataly. Russians are notoriously romantic people and prize love matches between men and women. If Oleg thinks I’ve already found love with someone else, he wouldn’t want to ruin that for the sake of our deal. His insistence that this merger will benefit me more than him won’t matter. His prior relationship with my father and the fact that he sees me as a foster son of sorts means he’ll follow through.
Elena is the perfect tool to meet my needs. She’s beautiful and in indefinite servitude to me. With her on my arm, Oleg will have no choice but to look for someone else for his daughter to marry.
When I explain this to Jovan, his jaw drops and he looks at me with awe.
“You’re a fucking genius.”
“I know.”
“How do you know Elena will cooperate?”
I think of Elena kneeling at my feet, naked with tears in her eyes, and my lips twitch with a hint of a smile. “We’ve reached an understanding. She’ll cooperate.”
Jovan wiggles his eyebrows. “An understanding, huh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
“Shut up. I haven’t touched her, and don’t intend to.”
“Are you shitting me? You’re sleeping next to her every night and don’t plan to hit that? She’s fucking hot, Diego. I mean …reallyfucking hot.”
“I know that,” I growl. “Doesn’t mean I want to …”
My words trail off as Elena and Marcella appear. They walk down the stairs together, talking like old friends. I don’t have the mental capacity to disapprove of Elena becoming close with my sister. All I can think about is how right Jovan is.
Elena looks so sexy it almost hurts to look at her.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, my eyes lingering on long, bare legs and flared hips leading up to her waist in a skintight dress. She’s wearing fuck-me heels and her perfectly-styled hair makes me want to yank and mess it up. Her makeup isn’t too heavy, perfectly enhancing what she’s been naturally blessed with. A little white purse on a gold chain hangs over one shoulder, resting at her hip.
Jovan’s jabs me in the ribs with his elbow. “I thought the idea was foryouto fuckher.”
“Shut your goddamn mouth,” I hiss, before going toward the stairs.
Elena reaches the bottom first, her eyes widening when I offer her a hand. She might think I’m a complete monster, but certain behaviors were ingrained in me from a young age. Mother would have slapped the shit out of me for not acting like a gentleman.
I help her off the bottom step, and Jovan does the same for Marcella. They start arguing about Marcella’s dress being too revealing, but I can’t bring myself to get between them. Elena has my full attention. White was the perfect color for her to wear this evening. It makes her look almost innocent, while the deep neckline and open back gives her just the right amount of sex appeal.
“You look … nice,” I stammer, like a dumbstruck little boy.
“Glad I meet your approval,” Elena replies, her voice flat and dry.
