Page 103 of Attraction (Mobsters + Billionaires 3)
“You don’t need to thank me for this, Luca. I’d lay down my life for you. A little cleanup job is hardly anything at all.”
“You know I’m talking about more than just the cleanup job.”
Hopper lifts a shoulder, then hugs the two of us and hands me his black jacket. “Now get the fuck out of here. This is about to get messy.”
25
LUCA
I text Kej and Brody.
Me:Hey, we need to make a quick getaway.
Kej:You got it, boss.
Brody:Meet you in front in two.
Turning to Ford, glad that Hughes’ mask is covering the worst of it, I ask, “Is this mask okay? Is it hurting you?”
He shakes his head, sliding into Hopper’s jacket. “Just…get me out of here.”
I nod, then slip on my mask. With my arm around Ford’s waist, his battered side facing me, we make our way down the stairs and stop by our table on the way out.
Before they can ask, I explain, “Hopper is working out an issue in the restroom upstairs, and I need to get Ford out of here. Wait five minutes and follow us.”
Anthony nods and puts a protective arm around Mads, who lifts his chin to Ford.
“I’ll call you later, Maddie,” Ford says, his voice still slightly ragged.
We make our way through the ballroom and pass through the front door. Mary sends me a questioning look, and I shake my head. Tightening my grip on Ford, we head down the steps.
The paparazzi are once again on us, and there is more this time.
“Big smile, baby,” I croon, hoping to keep him in one piece for a few more minutes.
Ford snuggles in and puts on a shy smile. He sells it well, a fact that makes my stomach turn.
“Mr. Stefano, Mr. Bradley, where are you going?” one rude-ass photographer asks with his camera shoved in my face.
“Is there beef in the Rogues’ Masquerade?” another pap asks, likely thinking he’s been clever. “Is that why you’re leaving so early?”
The questions start coming fast and furious, and I hold up a hand.
“Tonight represents the most successful Rogues’ Masquerade in the event's history. This season alone, we’ve already raised nearly three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, which Mr. Bradley here has agreed to match. Tonight, we danced to excellent music by Brass Apple and were fed by the city’s best chef, Cesar Ronaldo. It’s been a perfect night, and if you don’t mind, I’d like some alone time with my man,” I say, grinning broadly as I gesture toward the Audi. The paps make a path for us.
Ford pats my chest and smiles at me, setting off another flurry of flashes.
I open the door for Ford, and he gets in, making room for me. I slide in after him and shut the door, grateful for the sound dampening.
“Kej, get us home as quickly as possible,” I bark out, ripping off my mask.
He makes eye contact with me in the rearview, giving me a sharp nod before pulling onto the street. In the meantime, Brody turns to face us, and his shrewd eyes track across Ford’s face.
“Do we need to get you to a hospital, Mr. Bradley?”
“He’s fine. We just need to get him home,” I snap.
We’ve cleared the gaggle of reporters, but now we’re greeted with New York traffic, and my patience is razor thin.
