The Accardi Twins: A Mafia Romance Duet

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Gia

I ’m in the back of a taxi, en route to Liam’s place, and I should be focused on our dinner date, but instead, I’m worrying about Elisa and still mulling over everything that went down between Joshua and his ex a few days ago. I have borne the brunt of Joshua’s cold front before, but I have never seen him act so callously. He pulled no punches with Bettina, and he was brutally cruel. After she ran off, I tried getting him to talk to me, but he clammed up like an oyster, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

He's clearly harboring a lot of resentment and hasn’t fully moved on. It’s been a long time, and my heart hurts for him carrying all that pain and hatred around for years. It doesn’t mean I excuse or condone his treatment of his ex because I don’t. Bettina did him dirty, but attacking her so viciously while she’s heavily pregnant was out of line. He should have remained dignified and just walked away.

It was na?ve of her to approach him in the first place. Why on earth would she ever think he’d want to talk to her? Especially when she’s pregnant with the other man’s baby? I never knew the specifics of what went down only that she had been cheating on Joshua with another made man for months before he found out.

The car pulls up in front of a fancy apartment building in historic DUMBO, right beside the trendy waterfront, and I crane my neck to see the top of the steel-and-glass facade of the high-rise. Figures Liam would live someplace like this. The man is all about appearances and he loves the sound of his own voice. Conversations we’ve had where he was bragging about his new apartment make sense now.

I pay the driver and leave with my purse and my grocery bag, entering the plush building a minute later. The concierge adds my name to a guest book and escorts me to the elevator that takes me to the penthouse apartment Liam is currently renting. I press on both earrings to activate the recording device just before the elevator doors part on the top level.

My fake new boyfriend is waiting to greet me, leaning in to kiss me before the elevator doors have even closed behind me. I go through the motions while I run through the menu I’m creating in my head until it’s over.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, looping his arm through mine as his gaze devours me from head to toe.

“I’m happy to be here,” I lie, smiling at him. “I love cooking, and I can’t wait to cook for you.”

He steers me across the lobby, ogling me like I’m the meal, and into his penthouse. Unlike Joshua’s place, this is flamboyant and garish with a bright red leather couch and a cowhide fur I really hope is fake on the floor. There are no homey touches, but Liam hasn’t been living here long, and it’s only a rental.

“Wow, the view is stunning,” I say, gravitating toward the tall floor-to-ceiling windows offering expansive views of the harbor, the Manhattan skyline, and the Brooklyn Bridge in the near distance.

“It is, and this place is quite historic. The Battle of Brooklyn took place on these streets in 1776. It was the biggest battle of the revolutionary war. Washington crossed from here by way of the ferry landing because the bridge wasn’t around then. It was built in 1883, and it was the largest suspension bridge at that time.”

“I didn’t know that,” I truthfully admit.

“I researched the area after I decided to base myself in Brooklyn, and I rented this place mostly because of the balcony and those views,” he says, jerking his head to the side where a large balcony juts out from the building overlooking the water and the bridge. “Pity it’s too cold for outdoor eating.” His arm winds around my shoulders while mine aches a little from holding the bag laden with ingredients. “We’ll eat outside in the summer. I’m hoping you’ll be living here by then.”

My brow arch is natural, and he chuckles. “In case it’s not obvious, I’m serious about you, Emma. Very serious.” His fingers sweep over my cheeks. “I put in an offer to buy this place today. Made it so the owner won’t refuse.”

“Wow. You don’t waste time.”

“Life is for living.” He swats my ass and waggles his brows.

I work hard not to slap him. “I need to get started, or we’ll be eating dinner at midnight.”

“Knock yourself out, sexy.” He points toward the kitchen. “I have some work to finish so I’ll leave you to it.”

He walks off, disappearing into a hallway, as I head to the kitchen tucked at the rear of the main living space. He didn’t even offer to give me a grand tour. His manners suck, and I don’t think much of how his mother raised him. My mom would berate my brothers if they ever treated their girls like this.

Shucking out of my coat, I place it and my purse on the back of a high stool and set about unpacking my supplies on the large island unit. I switch the oven on before walking off in search of the bathroom, purely so I can locate where Liam is and get my bearings. I leave my shoes in the kitchen and pad in my bare feet down the hallway that leads to the rest of the apartment.

Quietly, I open each door, finding a couple of guest bedrooms, a small home gym, and a family bathroom. I take pictures of everything with my camera pen. Muffled voices can be heard coming from the door of the last room on the right. That must be his office. I inch the door open on the left, poking my head inside what is obviously his master suite. I’m tempted to snoop now, but it’s too risky when he’s in the room across the hallway even if he appears to be occupied on a call.

I press my ear to the office door, but I can’t hear anything. I make a mental note to ask Joshua if we have any kind of tech device that can penetrate walls.

There was lengthy debate over whether I should bug Liam’s place, but it was deemed way too dangerous. Most made men regularly check for surveillance equipment, and we can’t risk Liam discovering one. His list of suspects would be short, and I’d most likely come out on top. So, for now, we’re not planting any bugs.

I tiptoe back to the kitchen and get started on our meal, compiling the apple tart first and getting it in the oven. Then I work on the carrot and coriander soup and the shepherd’s pie. I decided to cook him an Irish meal in the hopes it will impress him and garner more trust. His comment about me moving in took me by surprise, but I’m not unhappy. This is working out perfectly. Now, if I can just get the intel I need so I can cut him out of my life sooner than later that would be the cherry on top of the cake.

When the apple tart is cooling, the soup is simmering, and the pie is in the oven, I make him an Irish coffee using a bottle of JD I find in his liquor cupboard, and I head toward his office.

I knock on his door and wait for him to call me inside. “I thought you might like a drink.” I smile as I walk toward him. Papers are strewn across the desk, and I’m itching to go through them, but I keep my eyes fixed on him as I walk around the desk and set the tall glass mug down in front of him. He flicks a button on his keypad, and the screen saver appears on the large desktop Mac. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.” I lean in to kiss his cheek.

I yelp when he pulls me down on his lap, narrowly avoiding elbowing the drink and spilling it. “I really like having you here,” he says before slamming his mouth down on mine. He grabs my ass, holding me in place, and I feel his disgusting erection growing underneath me. I kiss him passionately as I slip my pen from the pocket of my dress and discreetly take pics of his desk. “Damn,” he says, breaking our lip-lock and nuzzling my neck. “You make me so horny.” He thrusts his hips up. “I need to fuck you, baby.”

“Patience.” I press my lips to his to distract him while I slip the pen back into my pocket. “I told you I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t hop into bed with just anyone.”

“I like that about you.” He runs his hand up my back and fists it around my hair, tugging my head back a little. “I like you’re not a slut, but I have needs, baby, and if you won’t service them, I’ll find someone who will.”

“Go fuck yourself, Liam.” I struggle against him, trying to get free, but he tightens his hold on my hair. “Let me go.” I let my anger flow freely because Emma wouldn’t tolerate such blatant manipulation and disrespect. “If I’m only a fuck toy to you, we might as well end this right now. I’m going home.”

“Don’t be so sensitive.” He squeezes my ass with his free hand. “You should be proud I’m so hot for you.”

“I don’t know what kind of women you’re used to, Liam, but I won’t be spoken to like this by anyone. Now get your fucking hands off me. You’ve ruined the mood, and the last thing I feel like doing now is eating dinner with you.” I shoot daggers at him, gripping his arms tight when he doesn’t budge.

“Don’t go.” He softens his tone. “I didn’t mean to piss you off. I just want you. Is that so bad?”

“You can’t rush me, Liam, and threatening to fuck someone else because I won’t put out is hurtful and disrespectful.” I have zero doubt he’s fucking other women behind my back and he’ll continue to do so for the entire time we’re dating. It’s second nature to arrogant dickheads like him. “We’ve only been dating a month. I really like you, Liam. This feels serious between us already, but I won’t let any man push me before I’m ready. I thought you understood that?”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips, but he finally frees my hair and loosens his tight grip on my ass. “I do, and I’m trying to be patient, but it’s hard.”

“Try harder.” I lock eyes with him in a brief stare-off.

“Okay, but I won’t wait forever, Emma.”

God, he’s insufferable. “I won’t make you,” I lie. I slide off his lap. “I’m going to set the table and you should drink your Irish coffee before it goes cold.”

I subtly scan his office as I make my exit, blowing him a kiss before I close the door. I wait a couple minutes until I hear him on another call, and then I take a calculated risk and slip inside his master suite.

I snap pictures of his king bed dressed in black silk sheets and the two samurai swords crossed and mounted to the wall over the bed. Slowly, I open the drawers of each bedside table, quickly inspecting the contents, but it’s nothing of importance. Then I check out his en suite bathroom and his closet, looking for any boxes that might be hidden underneath or over the wardrobes, but I find nothing. The only discovery is a safe with a lock hidden behind a framed picture on a side wall in his bedroom.

Ducking out of his room, I close his door super slowly, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I tiptoe down the hallway and back to the kitchen. My breathing levels out after a few minutes, and I breathe a sigh of relief I got away with it.

Liam appears in the living area just as I’m ladling soup into bowls. I warmed up the brown bread I made at home this morning, and it’s residing in a bread basket on the table. “Something smells delicious, and I’m not talking about the food.” He snakes his arms around my waist from behind and nuzzles my neck.

He’s so freaking cliché, and it’s a miracle I don’t gag. “Go sit and I’ll serve you.”

“Oh, I love the sound of that.”

Of course, you do, you arrogant, misogynistic prick. It feels good to curse him out in my head, but I’d much prefer if I could say it to his face. I hope, at some point, I get to tell him my true feelings. I’d love to wipe that smug grin off his face.

His hand trails up under my dress, and I swat it away, barely resisting the temptation to stab him with a fork.

“Behave,” I warn with narrowed eyes. “I’ve gone to lots of trouble to cook you a traditional Irish dinner, and it’s not going to waste.” I gave each course a unique flare of my own, like adding a couple spoons of hot sauce to the shepherd’s pie to give it a little kick, but it’s still a traditional menu.

“You did that for me?”

I nod. “Of course. Why do you sound so surprised? You told me you’re proud of your Irish heritage and my great-great grandmother was from Ireland,” I lie. “It was fun researching recipes, and it helped me to feel connected with my roots.”

“I’m going to take you to Ireland someday. You’d love it there.”

I serve the soup, and we sit down to eat. Butter melts on the chunky homemade bread, and it’s to die for. After, we eat the shepherd’s pie, and I dish up the apple tart with cream for dessert, but I can’t manage more than a few mouthfuls I’m so full. Liam has seconds, so I consider it a win.

“That was fucking incredible.” He reels me into him as I begin clearing the table. “You’re perfect, Emma. So fucking perfect.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I did too.”

His hand slides under my dress and creeps up the back of my thigh. Everything I’ve said tonight seems to have gone in one ear and out the other. How does any woman put up with this slimeball? “Go sit, and I’ll fix you a drink before I clean up. You worked hard today, and you deserve to chill out.” I already know he won’t offer to help with the cleanup because he has the manners of a pig.

“Like I said, perfect.” He waggles his brows, and I peck his lips before clearing the table. I stack the dishes on the counter and fix his whiskey, handing it to him before I return to the kitchen. I take my time rinsing and stacking dishes and covering the leftover food. He calls for me several times, and I know I can’t delay this any longer.

The instant I sit beside him on the couch, he jumps on me, groping and kissing me as he pushes me flat on my back. “Liam.” I move my head to the side and shove at his shoulders. “You promised you’d be patient.”

“You’ve got to give me something, Emma.” His hand glides up the inside of my thigh, and his fingers brush against my lace panties.

Panic flares as I grip his wrist, stopping him before he goes any farther. Dark eyes drill into mine, and I know I can’t stall him any longer. “Let me do something for you.” He’s selfish at his core, so this should work. I can’t bear the thought of touching him intimately, but it’s preferable to him touching me.

His eyes flash with lust as he lifts himself off me. “I like the way your mind works,” he says, sitting back and spreading his legs as he pops the button on his jeans.

I discreetly press my earrings to turn off the audio before lowering to my knees on the floor. I can’t do this if I think Joshua might be listening.

Blanking my mind, I rest my hands on his thighs and lean in as I take one for the team.