Page 4 of Attraction (Mobsters + Billionaires 3)
We had a few assholes last week who didn’t pay attention to the rules when they signed over thousands of dollars to me. My security guys took care of it, but I’m happy for the break in the action.
“Excellent. I have a feeling you’re the reason things have been settling down, so thanks for that.”
She waves me off, her cheeks red from the compliment.
“Alright, then. I’ll be downstairs if anyone needs me.”
“Sounds good, sir. Enjoy your weekend.”
“Mary, I’ve asked you to call me Luca.”
She grimaces and looks up at me, blinking widely. The complication, of course, is that she used to work upstairs. To put it bluntly, she knows what I look like naked and how I sound when I come, and I know the same about her.
“Okay. I’ll try. Have a good evening, Luca.”
Fuck, I need a drink.
2
FORD
The barone block over from the Wolfe Athletics building is top-notch. Whoever designed it clearly loved leather, Frank Sinatra, and high-end bourbon in equal measure. It’s the kind of place that feels masculine, whatever that means these days, but also exactly the sort of spot a real dame would enjoy.
And after today’s spicy board meeting, I’m definitely indulging. I tried to get one of the big financial houses to sponsor more of the arts. Several of their board members have never seen so much asWickedon Broadway, and it shows.
I plan on drinking until walking becomes an adventure.
“Did you really just order Jack Daniel’s in my bar?”
I startle at the familiar and entirely welcome voice. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I can’t help but smile.
Oh, did I not mention I’ve got a massive crush on the guy who owns the place? Because I do. Like…a mind-altering, heart-palpitating, dildo-suction-cupped-to-the-shower-wall-at-the-approximate-height-of-his-hipscrush.
Luca Stefano, mob boss and surprisingly nice guy, is standing next to me with an amused grin. I hold up the beautiful whiskey, kept chilly—but not watered down—by a perfectly round ice sphere.
“It’s an eight-hundred-dollar bottle of liquor. Extra aged and whatnot. I’m being a classy drunk.”
His small smile widens into a grin that crinkles the skin around his eyes, and I’m reminded that Page 6 calls himthe gentleman mobster.
“Besides,” I continue, deciding two whiskeys in is enough of an excuse to tease him. “If you hate Jack Daniel’s so much, why are you offering it in your bar?”
“Because I don’t require my patrons to have taste. My friends, however? I simply cannot allow you to sip Jack Daniel’s in my presence.”
I laugh and down the rest of the glass.
“You really own this bar?” I ask, knowing the answer.
I’ve come here a few times hoping to run into him, though I don’t look too hard into my motivations. I mean, it’s not like I would ever date a mobster, even one as handsome and kind as Luca Stefano.
His smile turns almost shy as he looks down. “Considering I own the building, yes.”
I know that as well because I’ve helped with his finances. While he’s no Wall Street billionaire, he’s got a solid eight figures across all of his accounts. He’s certainly done well for himself.
I don’t like to think too much about how he’s amassed his wealth. Or the fact this building is home base for his escort service.
“Explains the mobster vibe in here.”
He laughs, shaking his head at me. “Only a millionaire would feel comfortable making fun of a Mafia don to his face.”
