Page 9 of Mafia Men Need Love Too
Nico and the newcomer exchanged a few hushed words, then he turned to her and said, “Text Enzo your address and a list of what you’ll need. He’ll take care of it right away.”
Well, either Nico was as bad a kidnapper as she was, or she truly was a guest here, not a prisoner. Because what kind of kidnapper lets his victim have her phone and anything she wanted from her house?
And while the thought of Enzo pawing through her underwear drawer wasn’t comfy, the idea of him potentially finding Russians in her kitchen rather than her doing it—again—did have a certain appeal. Enzo the giant could probably crumble up the Russian like a used tissue and toss him down the garbage chute. So, she dutifully added his number to her phone and shot him her list.
When he scanned it, Enzo raised an eyebrow at her. But after that brief glance, he rushed off to do her bidding—or, Nico’s bidding, she supposed—without any questions. It was like having the biggest, most heavily armed Instacart shopper in the world at her disposal.
Hopefully, he’d do a better job with her list than actual male Instacart shoppers had ever done for her. Seriously, what kind of idiot substitutes castor oil for olive oil?
But I digress…
Nico gestured to the incredibly expensive-looking black leather loveseat that ran parallel to his desk. “Have a seat while I make a call, yes?”
River did as she was told. Again. Was there ever an accidental kidnapper who was meeker and more pathetic than her?
She’d be disgusted with herself if her night hadn’t fallen to shit so epically. At this point, she was afraid to do anything, or touch anything, or even think about anything. Following Nico’s orders just felt safer.
That’s when some completely inappropriate thoughts about other things—really dirty things—Nico might tell her to do while she was his, um, guest.
Or was he planning to use her as a hostage of some kind?
River quickly squashed the thought. What could he possibly get out of holding a nearly middle-aged schoolteacher who spent her spare time crocheting little outfits for her parrot and watching and re-watching anything she could find with Jensen Ackles in it?
Dark Angel was criminally underrated, by the way. And way ahead of its time.
But again, I digress.
That’s when it occurred to her that she’d just zoned out during his phone call. He might’ve been saying something she should know, and instead, she’d been sitting there like a dumbass, waxing poetic about Jensen Ackles.
Nico hung up on whoever he was talking to without saying goodbye. Seemed rude, which struck her as weird. She’d tased and kidnapped this man, and he had yet to be rude to her.
He was frowning sternly until he turned his eyes back on her again. That’s when his expression softened. Maybe he was just chivalrous. Was that a thing among mafia bosses?
“Alexi will be here shortly,” he told her.
She sat up straighter. “Here? The head of the Russian mafia is coming here? Where I am?”
“Yes. Do you mind sitting in while we talk?”
This is the time to not be meek, she told herself. Now! Stand up for yourself now, loser! Tell the hot mafia boss you don’t want to see the Russians ever again!
So, of course, what she actually said was, “Sure.”
God damn it, mouth. You had one job to do.
Nico steepled his fingers under his chin. “Tell me about your ex. How did you end up married to someone like that?”
River snorted at the derision in his tone. “Someone like that? Am I so different? I kidnapped the wrong man. Is that any better than owing money to the Russian mob?”
He somehow managed to smile without moving a single muscle in his face. It was impressive. And way sexier than it should’ve been in her situation. “Something tells me if he hadn’t made big mistakes, you wouldn’t be here.”
Truer words had never been spoken. “What sucks is that Jeremy was always a walking red flag. I chose not to see it,” she admitted.
She’d always been surprised on some level that Jeremy wanted to marry her. She was weird and quirky and stuck in her own head more often than not. He was the outgoing, all-American, classically handsome, king-of-the-world type that wouldn’t normally even glance at a feral house-gremlin like her.
So, when he asked her out, she went. When he asked her to marry him, she accepted. As a former high school nerd, it felt like her duty to take whatever the popular boy offered her.
What an idiot she’d been.
