Page 53 of Attraction (Mobsters + Billionaires 3)
“And these felonious types actually care about the kids in their neighborhoods?”
“Of course we do. You see a kid your age when you first ran a drug deal or helped a prostitute get out of a fight with her john, and you realize that, hey, maybe kids shouldn’t be doing this.”
I grimace. “Wow, that’s actually pretty sad.”
“It is. I’ve been thinking about all the things I want to do differently from my father, and I’m not the only one.”
“It’s like how I feel about the other super-rich. I don’t think they all want to be assholes. Some, yes, but a lot of them want to make a difference.”
“Exactly. Do you think you’d like to accompany me? I promise everyone is on their best behavior, and it’s been years since somebody died at one of these,” he jokes, holding my hand.
“Of course I want to go with you. I’m just…having a hard time picturing a bunch of mobsters in fancy masks.”
Luca winks at me. “Cops can’t bust who they can’t identify. Besides, it’s not just the Mafia. It’s a cross-genre, multicultural mix of ne’er-do-wells and pirates.”
I crack up.
“Who sponsors the ball? Is it too late to get in on that action?”
“Sorry, little bird. Only bad guys are allowed to sponsor. For obvious reasons, the organizers keep it all anonymous, though this year we got a big fish.”
“Even bigger than you?” I ask, flirting a little.
“Yep. Though you can usually tell who sponsored because they have the flashiest masks.”
“Bet you I can outdo them.”
“I bet you can, little bird. Though…this year’s theme is black and white.”
I pout. “You’re really hamstringing me here. You know I shine in color.”
“That you do, little bird. I have a feeling, though, that you’ll make it work.”
“This is only a couple of weeks away. Why am I just now hearing about this?”
He rubs his jaw, avoiding my eyes. “I didn’t exactly want you around a whole bunch of mobsters. But I enjoy my time with you too much. And if it helps, Anthony agreed to come with Mads.”
“Are you sure you want to take me to a function like that?”
Based on his scowl, that may have been the wrong thing to ask.
“In what world would I not want you to go with me?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking maybe you don’t want to be seen with someone who, you know, might accidentally say the wrong thing and get shot.”
I grin broadly, but he doesn’t return the sentiment.
“Why would you get shot?” he asks, and I can’t tell if he’s being intentionally obtuse.
“Well, that sounds like a potentially dangerous mix of people, and after our trip to Brooklyn, frankly, I’ve had enough close calls for a lifetime.”
He grabs my hand, kissing the knuckles one at a time, the gesture zinging heat up my arm.
“I’m sorry about the close call. Truly. But for this kind of thing, we delinquents tend to play well with each other.” I go a little breathless as he slides his fingers between mine, holding my hand with both of his. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”
His promise feels like a touch. With my free hand, I sketch the path he followed with his lips when he last kissed me. His eyes track the movement, and I let my fingertips drift to my collarbone.
We look like lovers, leaning toward one another over the rickety chess table.
