Massimo (The Bonetti Crime Family #1)

Prologue

MASSIMO

SENIOR YEAR AT CENTENNIAL UNIVERSITY

Ihold her close, her hips swaying to the beat of the music, and admire her delicious curves as I run my fingers up the sides of her silver sequin dress that shimmers under the club’s lighting.

Sliding my hands back down to her waist, I pull her into me, moving my hips in sync with hers.

Usually, when my friends and I come to Suite 101, dancing isn’t on the table. But when I saw this beautiful little vixen on the dance floor, drawing the attention of several other men, I knew I had to have her.

It’s the end of the school year, so Suite 101 is throwing its annual masquerade party to celebrate, and with it being my last year at Centennial University, I had to come.

My friends and I were on the second floor chatting with some girls when she came in with a group of people. My eyes were drawn to her like a moth to a flame, heating every inch of my body.

I had to have her.

Her short dress hung off her body but hugged her curves, and the silver mask with white feathers on the side, tied around her dark waves with blueish-gray ribbons, have her looking like an elegant fucking queen. Commanding the attention of everyone in the club.

And I didn’t like it.

As I dance with her, commanding her attention like she commanded mine, nothing else fucking matters; nothing else even exists.

Leaning back into my chest, she lifts her hand and wraps it around the back of my neck, letting her fingers get lost in my hair.

I bend down and place a soft kiss on the exposed skin in the nook of her neck. Her body melts into mine.

No words have been exchanged between the two of us. I saw her. She saw me. I extended a hand out to her—an invitation to join me on the dance floor—and she accepted.

Even with the lack of verbal communication between the two of us, there’s nothing misleading about our physical attraction. The way we move so effortlessly in sync with each other as if we’re one. The way she sinks into my touch, and the way I cling to her like I never want to let go.

Because I don’t.

There’s something so mesmerizing about this mystery woman, and I have to know more.

I spin her around in my arms, then place my finger under her chin and lift it up. Her dark gaze penetrates right through me.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say.

She wraps her arms around my neck, a sly smile takes over her face, and her pearly whites peek out from behind her heart-shaped lips.

“If you think you’re going to take me home tonight, you’re sorely mistaken.

” The music is loud, but not enough for me to miss her angelic voice that’s even sweeter than I imagined.

And the humor that laces her tone? It has my lips tilting into their own smirk.

While I would love to take my mystery woman back to my place, I’ll settle for anywhere that gives us even an ounce more privacy than this dance floor.

I tug her closer to me, and she nearly stumbles at the abrupt movement. Lifting her chin, she smirks, then licks her lips. I trace the movement with my eyes, and without thinking about it, lick my own.

She has me fucking captivated.

Our faces are so close I can practically taste her lips on mine. The sweet smell of cherries mixed with a hint of vodka infiltrate my nostrils.

Oh, what I would give to taste those lips on mine.

“I would never take you back to my place.” I lean in so my lips graze her ear when I say, “Unless you begged me to.”

My mystery woman giggles, and the sound goes straight to my cock.

The things she already does to me.

Grabbing her hand, I pull her off the dance floor and lead her past the bathrooms into an enclave at the end of the hall.

She lets out that sweet laugh of hers when I push her up against the wall and pin her hands above her head.

“What’re you going to do now?” she asks. Her flirty tone is suggestive and seeps underneath my skin, exciting me like no other.

“Exactly what I’ve imagined doing to you since you walked into this club.”

Locking her wrists in one of my hands, I slide the tips of my fingers from the other along her arm and down the side of her delectable body, caressing it with a need I know will drive us both insane.

Her eyes close, and she lets out an audible breath that sounds pretty damn close to a desperate plea for more.

I glide my hand lower, the sequins catching my fingers, until I pass the hem of her dress, finding my way to her soft skin. Wrapping my hand around her thigh, I give it a tight squeeze, and she angles her hips toward me.

“Admit it. You like it when I touch you like this.”

“And if I do?” she says, angling her mouth toward mine, teasing me with it being so close, yet so far away.

“Should we make a bet on how long it’ll take before I have you begging to come back to my place?”

“Well, let’s see what you got, Phantom,” she says with a smirk, referring to the silver Phantom of the Opera style mask covering half my face.

Thankful for the privacy we have in this enclave—not that it would stop me from what I’m about to do—I lift her leg to my waist and hold it there. Releasing my grasp around her wrists, I slide my hand around her neck and slam my mouth to hers.

She lets out a small moan, and I take advantage, pushing my tongue in to meet hers. My grip around her neck tightens when our mouths clash together in a raw and seemingly innate response to one another.

I get so lost in the moment that I almost forget I have no idea who this woman is, which goes against everything I’ve been taught. Tearing myself away, I stare deep into her eyes. I have to know who this beauty is.

“How about now, mystery girl?”

She laughs. “Mystery girl, huh?”

“If I can’t convince you to come back to my place, can I at least get a name?”

“A name?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I need to know who you are, bellezza.”

She stiffens and presses her hands into my chest, forcing me to release her leg.

“What did you say?” she asks, her once-flirty tone now masked by shock.

My brow furrows. “I need to know who you are?”

“No … You called me bellezza.”

I tilt my head, not understanding what she’s saying. “It just means—”

“Beauty—I know—but you speak Italian?”

She digs her nails into my chest and tries to push me back, but I stand my ground, not wanting to be shoved out of her space.

“What’s wrong with speaking Italian, belleza?” I say with a smirk, but even with the mask shielding half her face, her widened gaze gives me the feeling she’s … scared?

Reaching up, she yanks my mask down, revealing my face. Her mouth drops, and that look of concern intensifies.

“I-I have to go.” She pushes me back, but this time, I’m taken so off guard, I let her, stumbling back a couple feet. Before she’s able to pass me, I grab her by the arm.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, confusion and desperation lacing my tone.

This night cannot end like this.

“Nothing. I just have to go.”

The once-fun and -flirty girl is completely gone now.

“And you’re not going to tell me your name?”

“Mystery girl,” she says, but that’s not good enough for me. I’m not going to let her get away without knowing exactly who she is.

She turns to walk away, but when she does, I pull the ribbon at the back of her head, releasing the mask. My mystery girl’s hands fly up to her face to catch the falling silver piece.

She slowly turns and looks at me, eyes wide.

Liana DiMaggio.

The niece of Aurelio DiMaggio, one of New York City’s dons. I’ve seen her a few times around campus, and I’ve always thought she was beautiful, but tonight … tonight, she captured my fucking attention like never before.

“I-I have to go,” she stutters out again.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, tightening my hold on her arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “I just have to go.”

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost, then?”

“That’s not what it is. I just … I don’t do this.”

I raise a brow at her. “And what exactly is this?”

She raises her brows, like I should know what she’s talking about, and maybe I do, but I want to hear it from her.

She shrugs and says, “Hooking up. I don’t do one-night stands.”

I let out a deep and slightly deranged laugh.

“You think this would be a one-night stand?” I drag her toward me, and she stumbles into my arms, dropping her mask and pressing her hands against my chest to steady herself.

“You and I both know it would never be a one-night stand between us. Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I won’t be letting you go. ”

This possessive need I’ve developed in the short amount of time I’ve known her is fucking barbaric, but I don’t care. I’ve always known what I want, and what I want now is Liana DiMaggio.

I’m the heir to the Bonetti family, so being with Liana would make sense. It would align my family with the DiMaggios, making us one of the most powerful in the nation. It’s like this was meant to fucking be.

“T-this isn’t going to happen. Now, let go of me. I want to leave,” she says.

As I stare deep into her eyes, taking in the frown on her face and the worry in her voice, a switch flips.

Forcing myself on Liana isn’t something I necessarily want to do, and right now, there’s something about me that has her shaken. It’s something I need to figure out, but tonight is not the night.

“Fine,” I say, releasing my hold on her.

Her brow furrows, and she takes a step back. “That’s it?”

“You said no and I said okay. Did you expect something else?”

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Well, yes. Men like you typically …”

“Men like me?” I ask, raising a brow at her.

“I know who you are.” Her tone is accusatory, as if I should defend myself to her.

“And I know who you are,” I say, still not understanding what she means.

“Look, I have no interest in getting involved with someone like you, so let’s just pretend tonight never happened.”

I throw my head back and let out a maniacal laugh. “You think I’ll ever forget you after tonight?”

Liana’s silent for a few seconds while she assesses me. If she’s looking for any sign I’m fucking around, she’s going to be looking for a long-ass time.

“Tonight didn’t happen, okay, Massimo?”

My lip curls into a grin at the sound of my name fluttering across her delectable lips. “You realize we’re inevitable now, right?”

She shakes her head. “No. Absolutely not. Go find yourself another girl to take home. I’m not interested.”

I take a step toward her, closing the distance between us, and wrap my arms around her waist. Her hands fall to my chest, and she sucks in a sharp breath.

“We both know that’s a lie,” I say, and her heaving breaths have me questioning what the real issue is here. My family has never done anything against hers, so what would make her so reluctant when it comes to us?

“I have zero interest in being with a mobster like you.”

I narrow my gaze on hers. A mobster like me. What exactly is that supposed to mean?

Her lips are set in a tight line, and her eyes are heated with a flame that could incinerate anyone. Knowing I’m not going to get anywhere with her tonight, I release her and take a step back.

She watches me closely, then turns around to walk away, but before she’s able to take two steps, I say, “You can run now, Liana, but make no mistake, I’ll be back for you, and when I do, there won’t be any more denying what’s between us.”

She ignores me, but I know my words have seeped through her stiffened body as she walks away.

Picking up her mask off the floor, I run my fingers over the delicate lace and crystals, smiling to myself.

I’ll give her the space she wants. I’ll wait for her to come to me if that’s what it takes. But if she doesn’t, then I’ll make her, because fuck all the other women who have ever been in my life. From this point forward, the only one who matters is Liana DiMaggio.