The Mafia King: Chapters 1–5

"Please be careful with that."

I reminded the men carrying the paintings towards the hotel. Over ten paintings were carried from the truck. Some can be handheld and life-size and some are as big as walls.

"You really need to take a chill pill, Hailynn." Amy popped out beside me, arms crossed, face held in amusement.

After telling her that I decided to finally sell my paintings, she immediately went to support me. I am so grateful that she’s here. I’m not sure if I can do it alone.

"Can't. You know how much I value those paintings." I felt a tinge of regret but I know this will help those who are in need.

She smiled at me softly. "Then you better detach yourself with those artworks. Tonight you're not gonna be officially the owner."

"Is it bad that I'm hoping nobody's going to buy it and at the same time hoping that every painting will be sold?"

"It's not, Hailynn. What you're feeling is completely normal. I mean those paintings held your memories with Ethan." She placed her hands on my shoulders in a comforting way. "Remember this auction will help the orphans. This has been your and Ethan's dream to sell your works to help kids with no families." I nodded as she smiled at me warmly.

Tonight the elites will gather for a charity event. My paintings are the highlight of the night. Money will be donated to charity especially to the orphanages. I'm planning to give twenty-five percent of it to where Ethan and I grew up.

The night finally came and it was spent with succulent food, expensive wine and drinks, random chatters and boisterous laughter. Everyone was dressed in their most gorgeous gowns and expensive suits. I could not help but feel nervous with the idea that the paintings will no longer be in my care. Paintings that hold our memories together.

Surprisingly, the auction was beyond successful. The paintings were sold. All of them. I doubt that they understood or appreciated it. Let's be real. Those old geezers and young millionaires only show off their money. Based on my experience, wealthy collectors who truly appreciate works of art are rare. Either way, the children and the poor will be benefited from their arrogance.

My apprehension though made me leave one painting behind. The painting which Ethan and I created. We literally made this together and it was only recently before three months ago. I broke a promise to myself and perhaps with my longtime friend too. I simply could not sell it. I want to at least keep one memory of him with me. Well, except for the unfinished erotica book that he left.

I sighed heavily before opening the doorknob to the temporary room where I store the painting. I need to ask someone to transfer this back to my apartment.

The air was stuck in my throat as soon as I entered the room.

I froze when a man in all black suit pointed a gun towards another man.

I stole their attention when they heard me coming in. The man who was holding a gun had a scowl on his face. He glared at my sudden intrusion that had made me nervous and scared. The other guy was somewhat relieved at their unexpected distraction. I noticed a blood smudged just below his lower lip.

As soon as my eyes shifted back to the man holding the gun. My eyes widened when another gun was pointed at me while the other was still glinting against his first victim. My heart quickened its beat. It became louder every jump of a second. My hands automatically raise in surrender. I could feel the other man's eyes shifting back and forth between me and the man holding the gun.

"Come here, ragazza." He said in his thick Italian accent. Okay, the man is obviously Italian.

I couldn't move though. I was still frozen in my spot. I was literally panicking and my loud heartbeat is boosting my fear with the Italian dude.

"Don't make me repeat." He growled. It was deep and guttural.

As soon as my foot moved to take a step, the other man lunged at him. From the Italian man’s reaction, he expected him to move. I stopped myself and in a quick second, I turned around to reach for the doorknob for escape. The loud bang of a gun made me jump in fear. My eyes were completely wide when I saw the dent and splinters that newly decorated the door. I nervously turned around. The two men were fighting, fists flying on their faces and body.

"Don't even think about it." Mr. Italian snarled at me after kicking the man and making him fall right over my painting.

I stiffened.

Shit. No. Oh my god. No.

I know I'm completely and undeniably scared right now... yet I can't help but feel infuriated at the sight of my painting ripped apart. The masterpiece was unrecognizable. I stood agape at what happened. My jaw falling on the floor, unable to return to its original place.

He wiped the little blood that dripped on the corner of his lower lip as he sauntered towards his enemy who was having a hard time getting up.

"What did you do to my painting?!" I screeched. I walked towards him with hurried steps, forgetting about the fact that he was holding a gun and he could shoot me in a second.

He stopped walking and turned his attention to me. His face was blank and extremely scary. I gulped a lump forming in my throat.

He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. He began to open his mouth to say something but the man lunged at him again making both of them fall down to the ground. I gasped at the sudden action. I couldn't see them wrestling behind the sofa.

I jumped again for the umpteenth time tonight as a loud bang echoed in the four corners of the room. Tears started pooling in my eyes as the thought of death crossing my mind.

Holy shit.

Oh my god.

I slowly walked and peeked behind the sofa. I saw how he roughly pushed away the man hovering him without a struggle. Blood pooled over his torso scattering to the floor. Our eyes met for a second before he got up and stood at his full height. I then noticed how short I am compared to his six foot something.

I step back every step forward he makes.

The sound of the door opening made me jumped in surprise. My head turned swiftly at the unexpected guest but didn't get the chance.

A white handkerchief suddenly covered my nose and mouth.

I tried to open my eyes, blinking it countless times, as I felt my senses finally regained. My head ached so much. It felt like I had drunk my night away and ended up with the major hangover ever the next day.

But it wasn't exactly a day when I realized as soon as my eyes completely opened, I was met with darkness. The only light present were the city lights outside.

I groaned while slowly getting up, pulling away the softest pillow and the softest quilt. The bed was the most comfortable I've ever lied on too.

Wait a minute. I stopped rubbing my eyes.

This isn't my room.

A pair of clear water eyes were staring right at me.

I jumped back from surprise, my back hitting the headboard. I covered myself with the blanket out of defense mechanism. I realized later that what I did was in vain. He wasn't moving at all. He stayed seated on the sofa only a meter beside me. His head was resting on his fingers, elbow propped up on the armrest of the seat. How the hell did I not notice him first?

And then I remembered something.

"You destroyed my painting." I spat. I made sure that my anger was conveyed.

"How much?" He spoke finally. There I noticed its deepness and masculinity. It was guttural and yet very calm at the same time.

My head unconsciously tilted to the side, wondering what he meant.

"I'll pay for it."

"And you think you can afford it?" I retorted sassily.

He raised an eyebrow. I was surprised that he wasn't insulted by my retort. "How much, ragazza? Name the price and I will give it to you." He leaned his elbows on his knees, making him lean forward towards me. His face was now somewhat visible. The lights from outside erased some of the shadows. The curves and contour are highlighted.

"Even if you have billions, mister. You will never be able to afford it." His once calm face was replaced with a scowl.

"Don't test me."

"I'm only stating the truth. No amount of money can afford memories."

He replied with a silence. He was staring at me and I stared back. I wanted to paint his eyes. It was surreal, making my hands itch to work on a white canvass. I haven’t been in the mood to do that for a while. Our stares went on for a minute until he decided to break it.

"You know I finally decided on what I'd do with you." He paused for a moment, letting the space as an opportunity for me to question him but I didn't. And I just remembered something in between.

Shit. I forgot that he was a fucking criminal... and that I saw him killing a man. Fear crept back in my spine.

"You're going to be my whore, Amore."

---

"Please, please, let me go." My hands pressed together, praying and begging him to allow me to go out. I hope my puppy eyes work though.

I kept following him all around his penthouse until he stopped by the kitchen. He was putting the guns in its holster. I gulped at the sight. Maybe it's a bad idea to pressure him with my request. One sound of that can send me to heaven... or hell.

There was a vague smirk on his face before speaking. "You're quite brave, aren't you?" He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. My sight was shifting between him and his guns.

"Please let me go just this time. I'll behave after that. Please." He didn't answer. He was only looking at me with no intention of answering my plea. "Look, if I don't go out and sign those documents then those paintings won't be delivered. No paintings mean no money. No money means no donation for the kids."

He still kept his silence. The only respond that I got was him adjusting himself against the counter.

"I'll do whatever you want."

A smirk that holds a lot of plans breaks his face.

"I'll do whatever you want but nothing sexual." I added.

"Ah, amore. You have ruined my plans." My face gave nothing away. I intend to let him know that I am serious with my decision. "You are my whore. It's only fitting that I do you like my very own puttana." His fingers brushed my cheeks towards my lips and chin. His thumb pressed my lower lip. His skin was grazing my teeth.

"I am not your whore." I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, holding back my displeasure. He withdrew his hand and went back to crossing his arms against his chest.

"Were you the one who made those paintings?" He asked, changing the topic.

"That includes the one that you destroyed." I scowled at him.

He only chuckled. "You really have the gall to stand up against me." He pulled away from the counter and stood straight to face me. His height devoured mine and I ended up looking up at him and him looking down at me. "Do you even know who I am?"

I replied, not intending to withdraw my glare. "Someone who deserves to live in jail."

He chuckled. Deep and throaty. "You have no idea, amore." He stepped towards me, closing our distance but I didn't stand back. I know he has two guns to kill me but I can't seem to shake off the memory of how he ripped my painting. Ethan and I's painting. Something that we both made before he died.

He leaned down. His left cheek pressed against my right. His pink plump lips hovered against my ear. I could feel it grazing it.

"Have you ever heard of the Mafia?"

I think I just gulped down an invisible apple.

---

So apparently he's in the mafia. Not only that... he's literally a mafia boss. A fucking Italian mafia boss.

I am toast.

I am screwed.

I am fucked.

Holy shit. Ethan, please come and get me. I don't think I can stomach the thought that I'm hanging out with a crime boss.

"You seem nervous, amore. I thought you are just going to have a meeting with your friend." He had a mischievous smirk right in his handsome face.

Yeah, unfortunately the italian mafia boss is a god. A greek god. A greek italian god. Am I even making any sense?

He was sitting right across the table. He was annoyingly relaxed and here I am freaking scared of his existence. I wish I didn't know. I wish he didn't tell me who he really was. My bravery flew right out the window when I realized that he's the very top of a crime list.

At least he was nice enough to buy me a coffee paired with blueberry cheesecake.

"What do you plan... on doing with me?" Gulping down my fear while asking. I couldn't even have the guts to drink or eat the treat he ordered for me.

"Eat now, amore. You haven't eaten anything since last night."

Hello, my name is not Amore. "Why do you even care?"

"I care cause as I said..." He put his elbows on the table and leaned towards me. "You are now my whore. I will not enjoy my puttana all skins and bones. You will not be those women I came across who would defy me by thinking I would care if they don't eat. I will not hesitate to kill if I find you unnecessary, ragazza." His italian was thick yet he spoke perfect english.

I swallowed an imaginable lump. I adjusted my seat as if to settle my uncomfortable and anxious self. "Can you just let me go? Please just let me go. I would even forget about the ruined painting. I promise that I never seen you kill anyone." I plead.

He chuckled. It was mischievous and cunning. "And you think that is the reason I'm keeping you?" He leaned to me even more. Our noses were inches apart. I could see those eyes that reminded me of clear waters. It was near grey. My hands were itching to draw him and paint him right after. The wave of his hair had a specific direction. It was almost curly and though it looked black, highlights of brown could be recognized under the sunlight. He was truly beautiful.

"The moment you walked into that room, you have surrendered your life to me. No one and I mean no one gets away from these eyes, ragazza." He was no longer smirking. His eyes held depths of seriousness and I knew. I knew that I'm in the deepest of trouble.

Ethan, I take it back. I don't want to follow you. Not like this. I don't wanna follow you in the afterlife, killed by this crime boss.

"Hailynn!"

Our yearlong gazes were suddenly broken. He leaned back to his seat while my head turned to the source of the voice.

Shit. Avery's already here.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whisper-yelled at me.

Avery's face was stern, like a mother scolding her child. Even she knew how much trouble I was in.

"That I can explain." I answered nervously.

"That guy is dangerous, Hailynn."

"I know- wait. H-how did you know that?"

My friend sighed.

We've known each other for a while now. It was three years ago, when Ethan and I met her in the orphanage we used to visit. The orphanage where we grew up until we're old enough to be independent. It was the day she sent her donations for the children and for the orphanage itself.

We've met a lot of benefactors. Some would come at the orphanage personally and others just donate confidentially. It was what kept us and the others going. When we met her, Ethan and I instantly liked her. She was beautiful, kind, tough, her sassiness could go on miles but she treats everyone equally- the list goes on.

Until now, I can't seem to get over her beauty. This woman has everything yet so down to earth. Ethan and I admire her a lot. We have such high respect for her. She was the one who gave us opportunities to live our dream. Ethan was able to publish his books and she introduced me to mentors who could guide me with my skills and talent. Last night, I was finally confident enough to auction my paintings. Avery kept on convincing me to finally sell it. I gave in finally when she said the money would go to charity.

And the fact that my excitement last night completely shattered when my fate was crossed with a mafia boss.

"We need to talk." I returned her sigh. We walked towards where mister mafia and I sat. I made sure we sat outside of the coffee shop so if this guy does funny business, a lot of people will witness it. Who knows, a concerned citizen might save me or better yet, a cop.

"Angelo." I frowned. So she knew this guy. This criminal.

Wow, how ironic. Angelo, huh. He must be a stray angel. Dear, god. I think you forgot to categorize this one.

Angelo playfully smirked. "Such small world, don't you think so, cousin-in-law?"

Holy shit. My eyes widened like saucers.

"Get up. We need to talk in private." Avery ignored the intentional slip up.

"Well, then, sit down." He continued to sit languidly while pointing to the two seats right across him.

"Listen here, Di Angelo. If you ever hurt her... even a single hair, I won’t hesitate to break your arm… again." I was shocked that she threatened him. But if it's true that they're cousins in law, then she must be close to him. I frowned at the thought. They don't sound close. Not when Avery is actually threatening him for my sake. She really sounded serious.

Surprisingly, he chuckled. "Tesoro, you know I simply let you win."

She scoffed. "Yeah, nice try." Avery had a steady glare on him while Angelo only smiled at their exchange.

I glanced towards Avery. Did she really break his arm? My anxiety tripled at these two.

"Alright. Since you won't budge, we'll have our meeting here with you. I hope for your sake, Angelo, you won't open that idiotic mouth."

His lips lifted upward. "The floor is yours, tesoro. Well in this case, the table."

Avery went to sit at the empty chair and I followed to sit besides her not intending to even graze my skin with him.

Our meeting surprisingly went well. We were able to discuss the important details of the charity event last night. I signed a lot of documents that include the shipments and ownership of the paintings. Avery made sure that I don't have to do anything besides talking and signing. Although I didn't want that, she insisted. She understood my circumstances now that my best friend is no longer with me. We were practically attached to the hip. She knew how I depended on him so much.

"I mean it, Angelo. Especially now that you are in New York." Avery warned her cousin in law again. We were standing at our spot with Avery bidding us farewell but stopped short when she remembered Angelo.

"Relax, tesoro. Say hi to cousin for me, will you?" I only watched their exchange beside them. My eyes travel back and forth between him and Avery.

"What do you plan on doing to her?"

Angelo glanced at me only for a few seconds before shifting his attention back to Avery. "She's a witness." I tensed.

I hope she didn't understand what he meant.

Avery froze. Of course she knew.

I stared at the ground, suddenly finding it interesting. But if she knows, wouldn't it be in my favor? She'll help me escape from his grasp.

"Is that why you're here?" He nodded.

When I looked up, I noticed he was already looking at me.

"You can't help her, tesoro. She's mine now." So much for help. I sighed. "I honor my promise to the family. I only came here because some fool tried to test my patience and steal from me. But know that I wouldn't dare break it. I have high respect for Uncle Marco and Stefano. I'm pretty sure if I even hug you right now, Stefano would have my head on a cheapest platter. Italian style of course." Avery snorted, clearly resisting a laugh while Angelo just smiled. I, on the other hand, am still scared.

"Angelo, she's my friend and she's been through a lot. Please and I mean please... do not hurt her." I held my breath hearing her plea. How did I ever deserve such a friend? She already did so much for me.

"Alright, tesoro. For you." Avery and I exhaled a breath of relief. "But that doesn't change the fact that she's now under my watch. I will not hurt her as promised but that doesn't stop me from doing anything aside from that."

Avery and I looked at each other before she nodded in understanding. She then faced me in full height. "Hailynn... I know you already know him. You must be surprised that the Ranallo is connected to the mafia. Maybe someday I'll tell you how it came to be." She grabbed my hands and held it. "But he is family, Hailynn. He's Stefano's cousin. Marco's nephew. And I promise you that he will not hurt you because he promised me that. Family is important to us and we respect and honor our family. You have my word on that."

I stare at the mafia boss across me. He was still relaxed but the playful smirk he was always wearing was gone. I was still anxious but not triple anxious like before.

"Ask away, amore." He smirked but not quite playful like his usual.

Somehow it looked like it was forced. I was quiet. Just because I don't know what to ask first. There's just so many questions hanging, like the fact that he was related to the Ranallos. Maybe I should've asked Avery how to handle him. I mean considering she already broke his arm before.

Too late for that though. She already left not long ago.

My train of thoughts stopped when he leaned towards me, elbows propping on the table. "You know you should be grateful to her. I am unable to touch you. Hell, you’re lucky we are in their territory. I intend to keep my promise to them. If we would’ve been in Italy right now, I have long buried my cock in that sassy mouth of yours." I blushed. Furiously. But I managed to scowl at him, making sure my distaste was obvious in my face.

"She said-"

"She said not to hurt you." He smirked mischievously. There's a smug look on his face. "I'm sure sucking my cock will only give us both pleasure." He chuckled when I turned away. "Shame. I can't do anything with you here... for now though."

His fingers brushed my jaw, sliding towards my chin, forcing me to face him. He was now in my personal bubble and I noticed that he already got up from his seat only to bend down and hover over me.

"Once I drag you back to Italy with me... you will only know pain from so much pleasure, amore. I'd make sure of that."

"Get up."

The owner of the voice pulled off the blanket covering me. I stirred slightly. "Get up. You're going to cook." Shaking me roughly this time, finally, waking me up. I rubbed my eyes while sitting up.

I stare at him groggily, trying to clear his godly image. The mafia boss was scowling at me.

"Don't make me wait." He then stormed out leaving me to still process everything.

"So you decided that I'm going to be your maid?" I asked once I set his breakfast.

"For now. You saved my inconvenience to hire someone. Can't have another repeat of what happened the other night." I winced, inhaling a sharp breath.

He started eating his breakfast. I cleared my throat before speaking. "I need clothes." I said almost in a whisper.

He stopped delivering the food to his mouth and he turned his head to look at me. There was a slight glare on his eyes. "What?"

"I need clothes. I have been wearing this outfit for two days now." I made sure that I didn't sound demanding and respect was found in my voice.

He snorted. "Is it another way of telling me- darling, buy me clothes, so I could give you my credit card?" He crossed his arms as he leaned languidly to the chair.

I frowned, not liking his insult. "Sorry to ruin your perfect assumption. I only meant that I needed to go home and change. Not all women are what you think or the same as those who you sleep with."

"Ahh...” He lifted his lips upward with obvious mischief. “There’s that sassy mouth I love." He got up from his chair and stood in front of me. He leaned his hand on the table while the other on his hip, making his height crouch down to match mine. Our faces only inches closer. My hand clasped each other in front of me, trying to maintain control and patience. "I can't wait till I bring you to Italy with me, amore." His grin was playful and mischievous.

I crossed my arms and stood tall, challenging him. "Except you can't. Avery will look for me. I don't want to know how she'll react when you break your promise."

He chuckled. There was menace to it but hardly noticeable. "One day, amore, one day."

I frowned. "Stop calling me that.” I hissed. “As you can see, I'm not Italian.”

He smirked. "I noticed." His eyes were travelling to my eyes, nose and my lips and back up again. "But you do have a lovely accent. Do you think you sound the same when I fuck you to the moon and back?"

I turned away while trying to avoid the effects of his words. Angelo laughed. "I know your name, amore.” He paused. “Hailynn Fleury. You're half French thus the sexy accent."

I rolled my eyes. "Wow, it's nice of you to know that. Did you investigate me or something?"

His eyes and lips were playful. "I’m trying to be discreet with my presence here, amore, so I only asked my cousin in law." His face suddenly became solemn.

"Which reminds me... Hailynn Fleury." He sauntered towards me. His intimidating height covered my form, eyes glowering intensely towards mine. "If you ever sing our situation or even utter my name to someone else, Avery and I's promise are automatically invalid. If anything you do or say puts me in danger…” His intense eyes were studying me, spitting my name with heavy meaning. “Fleury, you'll be kissing this life goodbye."

I subconsciously swallowed my fear and this man knows I fear him. I nodded frantically.

---

I packed my clothes not minding what outfit it was. Well, considering I own a bunch of t-shirts and jeans, I guess it won’t matter. I don't know until when I'd be staying with him and I'm hoping that I won't be staying longer. Just as long as I don't 'sing', maybe mister mafia here would let me off. I’m just thankful that Avery is keeping him grounded.

Angelo isn't pretty bad which I observed. Just as long that I don't irk him. At least he has some respect for me, aside from the fact that he blurts out sexual innuendos.

"Is that all your stuff?" Angelo asked from behind. I nodded, still focused on packing. "You're not a typical girl, are you?"

I scrunch my eyebrows. My movements were slowing down. "What do you mean?"

"I can't help but think that I am staring at a man's clothes."

I continued packing but now rushing it so he'd quit staring at my clothes. "That's because it is a man's clothes." Shutting the suitcase finally. I huffed as I stood. When I turned to him, one of his eyebrows was raised.

"Interesting. You know I've never tasted someone who's like you before." He said while studying me. It sounded like I’m a rare dish for him.

I rolled my eyes. "Are you insinuating that I swing both sides?" There was a vague quirk on his lips. "Sorry to disappoint you, buddy, but I only swing on Ethan's side."

I let my eyes roam around my room, checking what I needed to bring. I thought by now he dropped the subject but surprisingly he asked.

"Who is Ethan?" Pure curiosity displayed on his face as I looked at him.

"Half owner of that painting you ruined... and previous owner of these shirts." I muttered the second phrase lowly. He furrowed his eyebrows, probably hearing the last part.

I sat on my bed while picking up the thin silver laptop, one that Ethan always uses where he types all his stories. I stare at it thinking how I’m supposed to finish his book. I met his editor a few weeks ago. She suggested that I should try continuing the book, assuming that I knew how his mind works. And since I don't have anything to do and I haven’t been in the mood to paint ever since his death, I figured I should try.

"You done?" He asked, bringing me out of my reverie. I nodded.

When we got out of my room, I noticed something against the wall of my living room covered in white sheet. I didn’t notice it when we came into my apartment. Probably because I was in a hurry to pack. It was huge and flat, much like a canvass. Weird. I don't remember putting anything in there.

I sauntered towards the object in question. Angelo seemed not to mind that I'm slowing him down. I took the white sheet and unraveled the hidden piece beneath it.

To my utter surprise, it was the ruined painting. The huge hole was flashing before my eyes. I inhaled an almost silent cry and of course, my anger towards a certain angel.

"The least I could do is deliver the painting in your apartment safe and sound."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right because you already have the honor of ripping it." I turned to him while sniffing.

"It's that important to you, huh?"

"Well, obviously." Trying to hold back being snarky.

He smirked playfully. "Go on. Don't hold back. You already knew I won't be able to touch you." He took a few steps towards me. "You're angry with what I did to your masterpiece."

"You also killed a man."

"In which, amore, you're not going to tell anyone. I already told you the cost of your voice."

I looked at him squarely, letting him know my promise. "I won't. I'm not that stupid."

"Good." He turns. "Let's go."

I stare at the monitor of Ethan's laptop in my room, brainstorming how to finish his work. Now that I'm the owner, I officially decided to continue the book.

Unexpectedly... and unfortunately he stopped writing at the peak of the two leading characters' heated scene. I'm actually surprised that I no longer blush reading this kind of genre. I have always read Ethan's book before he sends it to his editor. He will ask me what I think about it and sometimes ask for suggestions.

He had gone for teacher and student, doctor and patient, the typical ones like boss and secretary. The pending book was about the driver and his boss. Apparently, he had this idea when we asked Avery on how she met her husband. Except that the driver here is a guy and his boss was a cold hearted lady. And he manages to worm his way into her heart.

I don't know if someone already used this kind of concept but Ethan writes amazing R-rated scenes which makes the readers feel absorbed in the book. I don't even know if I can match his writings.

"Kinky. What about a mafia boss and a sexy painter who happens to have an amazing ass?" I gasped in surprise at the sudden voice. I jumped off my seat when I felt his lips against my ears.

"H-how- I-I... I didn't hear you come in." I stammered. I could hear my heart jump back and forth miles away.

My back was leaning against the table, covering the laptop behind me. My hands were gripping the edge of the desk to support my weight. Angelo was leaning on the chair I previously sat on, hands propping on the armrest. I was trying hard to lean away from him.

"Did you write that?" He nodded to my laptop behind me.

"You read it?" Horrified at his discovery. I didn't write it but it's still embarrassing.

He smirked mischievously. "I didn't know you're into that."

"Could you move back?" Feeling apprehensive and uncomfortable at our proximity. I was also feeling tired from leaning back so much.

He withdrew his hands from the chair. "Hmmn. Scared, amore?"

I eyed him up and down, ignoring his question. I just noticed that he was half naked. I could see the tattoos all over his torso. It seemed the artwork coiled towards his back and then to the front again.

"I always love my puttana eye fucking my body."

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Whatever, mister high and mighty. Some puttana just admire a really good piece of art." I retorted.

He chuckled before lunging at me. My scream seemed like a squeal as I closed my eyes, flinching at what he's about to do.

His right hand grabbed my hair, fingers locking a handful of strands. His left arm was coiling around my waist, hand pushing my back making our front pressed against each other. I could feel his rock hard abs, his muscles that were perfectly formed. There was no denying that this man is sexy and straight from Ethan's book.

"I never had a girl like you before." He said between breaths. His fingers pulling my hair, tugging it quite sexily. A move that was quite familiar to me. Don’t blame me. I am a fan of my best friend’s books.

"Ah. Does that mean you're attracted to me?" I said with confidence. I can't believe guys like him do exist. I thought he only exists in books. The thought makes me confident and amused.

"Let me taste you, amore." He ignored my question. He angled my head instead so I'd be facing up. The left side of my neck bared for him.

"I think Avery would be delighted to know you're cravings, Angelo." I smirked inwardly knowing his cousin is the only thing that holds him back.

That woke him up and immediately let me go; pushing me away with a certain amount of force. "One day, amore, one day." He growled. His playfulness was replaced with a scowl. I reveled on it.

I couldn’t resist a grin. I crossed my arms with confidence.

"And it's Dante to you." He answered gruffly. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I glared when his hand reached again to my neck. Our faces only an inch apart. His big hand was almost wrapping it whole. His thumb massaging my throat like a feather. My hand automatically landed to his chest, unable to push him. "And when I thrust inside of you, I want to hear you scream my name. Every name of mine.

"Adriano. Sol. Di. Angelo." His thumb stroking the center of my neck while uttering every name he owned. His eyes hooded in heat, lust clouding the windows of his soul. "And when you cum, it'll be Dante you moan."

He then crashed his lips with mine.

---

He kept forcing his mouth on mine as I tried hard resisting.

"Get off me!"

I pushed him away with all my force. He didn't budge at first and when he finally did, I immediately wiped my lips from his DNA.

"Oh, I never really had anyone like you before." His chuckle had meaning and purpose.

"Please. Stop being so goddamn cliché." I snapped back, still angry from the kiss.

"But it makes me like you even more, amore."

"It's Hailynn."

He smirked. "I know."

---

"I have a question." My palms kept brushing my thighs with the hopes of distracting myself from trepidation. I sat at the edge of the couch with a rigid posture. Angelo... or Dante was sitting on the other end, texting on his smartphone with his elbow propped up on the armrest, leg crossed the other. He was relaxed yet tensed at the same time.

I pity the other end of the line. Well, considering the ugly scowl on his face, it must be bad news.

"What?" He answered flatly with an edge. Clearly he was trying not to snap at me.

"Am I allowed to go out? Or am I just stuck here doing all the chores? I'm pretty sure this whole place ran out of dust or dishes to wash."

"What, so you could tell someone that you're living with a mafia?" His face was still on his phone as he deadpanned.

I frowned. "I told you I'm not that stupid but I really can't stay here forever."

He finally looked at me. "You won't. You're going to Italy with me."

I snorted. "Yeah, tell that to Avery." My face then scrunched when I realized something. "Where are your men, Dante? Are you sure you're really a mafia boss or just some random criminal whom I witnessed murdering someone?"

Besides the night when I witnessed him kill a man, it was the only time that I saw a couple of his men. I’m pretty sure it was those guys who opened the door right when Dante covered my nose with chloroform.

He smirked. I don't know why he's even happy with me doubting his status. I tilted my head in realization. Sometimes I wonder where this bravery came from when I could sit with him without feeling anxious or scared of him. Dante could be good or reasonable when he wants to.

"Say my name again, amore." Oh mon dieu. Here we go again.

He tosses his phone to the side and starts crawling towards me. I scoot closer to the edge, almost sitting on the armrest. "You're the only one I allow saying my name."