Chapter 4
Mia
“What the hell are you playing at?” Marco booms at me once we are alone.
“Hey, don’t you shout at me. If you have a problem, Marco, just say it.”
“You throwing yourself at one of Lorenzo’s men.”
“I was not throwing myself at him. We were having a very nice conversation.”
“What about?” Marco holds his fist tight at his side.
“Nothing that concerns you,” I reply, irritated.
“Everything concerns me. And what did you give him?” he growls, clearly trying not to raise his voice.
“My business card,” I reply, standing my ground. Most people would be afraid of Marco right now. But not me. I have grown up with men like Marco all my life.
“Why?”
“Because he wants to buy some new makeup. For fuck’s sake, Marco, why do you think?” I am done with this conversation, so I push past him to go back inside. Before I take my third step, I am turned around by my arm.
Marco is holding my elbow tightly. “I forbid you see that man again.” His eyes are open wider than I have ever seen them. He stares them into mine intently.
“Why, Marco? Why do you forbid me?” I demand, still holding his gaze.
He looks back and forth between my eyes. It takes what feels like minutes for him to reply. Dropping his eyes and loosening his grip on my elbow, he finally answers. “Because Guerras must never be associated with the police.”
For a minute there, I thought he was going to say something else.
Marco and I have a sort of friends-with-benefits type of arrangement—only without the friendship. As human beings, we both have needs, and neither of us desires to be in any sort of relationship. I do not need or want a man in my life. From observing my mother and father’s marriage, I’ve seen firsthand how controlling men can be. There has never been any love there. Just control. It happens to everyone. Even in the most loving relationships. Strong women with brilliant careers giving it all up for their husbands. They’ll believe they wanted to give it all up for their children, to go part time and look after their home, but really, it is what is expected of them.
Some women manage to continue with their careers but will still be at home every evening while their other half goes out and enjoys themselves. Women get too tired to be able to put themselves first. A woman would ask their husband if they could go to an event. A man would simply tell a woman that they had an engagement—that’s if they would even tell them at all. There is never any equality.
No, that life is not for me. I wouldn’t even have this sort of relationship with Marco if I didn’t have certain desires. But unfortunately, only men can fulfil those. And boy does Marco fill me—I mean them , the desires. It’s perfect, really, as we have no worries about what each other thinks about us or what either of us do in our day-to-day lives. We live out our wildest, dirtiest fantasies without being embarrassed and then separate, feeling satisfied without another thought for each other. Or so I thought. Recently Marco has been acting strangely around me. Like tonight for example. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was jealous. Yet the other Thursday when I went to his house, he almost threw me out. All this hot and cold behaviour is starting to piss me off. Maybe this arrangement has run its course. Shame. But there are more fish in the sea, so to speak. Like Detective Rossini for example.
I don’t reply to Marco. I just sharply remove my arm from his grip and head back inside where I find the girls. Both of them look at me with questionable expressions after seeing Marco follow in behind me. They both know the situation.
“You know, I think Marco might be falling in love with you, Mia,” Lucia whispers to me.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snap. The man has a heart of stone. They don’t know him like I do. Marco just hates that he can’t control me like he does everyone else in his life.
“Ladies, the car is waiting for you,” Van informs us.
The girls totter over to the waiting limo, climbing straight in and closing the door. They know what’s coming and are more than happy to be leaving before it starts.I stay in the entrance, waving them off.
“It’s time to go.” Marco growls from behind me.
“What, and miss all the fun? I don’t think so.” I spin on my heels and walk around him, returning to the main hall where the evening is in full swing.
After taking a drink from a passing waiter, I find a quiet corner to observe, privately. From here, I can see allfour entrances to the room. Each door opens in unison, and in walk the Guerra.
I take a deep breath as my heart skips a beat. My excitement builds as the sharply dressed men make their way around the edge of the room, surrounding all the guests. They don’t notice at first, but when they do, the atmosphere soon changes. This is what I love. The power, the respect. Smiling behind my glass, I watch Marco make his way over to the stage. The band stops playing as he reaches them. As he takes one of the microphones from its stand, the room falls silent, all eyes on him.Marco is so masculine, he looks nonhuman. He’s a beast of a man. He towers above everyone. His shoulders are so wide, he only just fits through an open door. His voice is so deep, you feel the vibrations. Each muscle in his body is prominently shaped beneath his skin. Dark hair covers his body. Thinking about him makes my core fill with heat. I just want him to pick me up, throw me over his shoulder, and take me to bed.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, Lorenzo.” Marco spits Lorenzo’s name out like it makes him feel sick.
Lorenzo looks far from pleased by Marco’s interruption.
“I would like to apologise for our late arrival,” Marco continues. “An unfortunate misunderstanding had taken place, but not to worry. I will deal with that myself, and as you can see, we are all here now.” He gives everyone a moment to look around, letting the “all here now” statement sink in before declaring, “So, let’s get this party started, shall we!”
Marco turns to the band, who immediately start playing on his command. The guests, albeit awkwardly, continue with their drinks and dancing. The invited organisation members, I notice, are all either are talking angrily on their phones or frantically texting, panic clearly setting in at how greatly they are outnumbered. Lorenzo seems very calm—too calm. When I look around the room at the Guerra men, they are a force to be reckoned with. An army ready at a moment’s notice. Marco does seem to have overdone it though. There must be fifty men here. He likely pulled a lot of them from other jobs in order to get so many here at such short notice.
Shit. That’s it. I make my way through the crowds of now drunk civilians.
“Marco. You need to leave.”
Marco is talking to my brother, who looks at me like I have gone mad. I’m probably the only person who would dare speak to Marco in public before addressing him as boss.
Marco studies my panicked face. “What is it, Mia?”
“It’s a trap. Lorenzo knew you would come. Think about it.”
Taking in a deep breath, he looks around the room before looking at me and saying, “There’s no trap. But I think it’s time we left. We’ve done what we came to do.”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh as Marco turns away from me. At least he’s getting out of here, which is exactly what I plan on doing. It’s dark outside now, and the air is a lot cooler.
As my car has been taken by the girls, I get my phone out of my bag to call a taxi.
“Need a ride?” Ross is leaning against his unmarked blue BMW police car. He looks like he’s been waiting for me.
I think for a moment. But given the presence of the Guerra, along with Marco’s warning earlier, I decide to decline.“Thank you, but I’m fine.”
Just as I refuse, the wind picks up and sends a shiver down my body. Goosebumps cover my skin, and I instinctively fold my arms to keep warm.
“Come on, it’s got heated seats.” Ross opens the door invitingly.
None of the Guerra men seem to have noticed me, so I decide to go for it.
“Okay then, Detective. Take me for a ride in your police car.”
His smile is wonderful. It makes me feel warm inside. He helps me in like a gentleman and closes the door before sliding into the driver’s seat beside me.
“Where would you like to go, princess?”
I laugh. “I am anything but a princess, Ross. But I’m sure a detective like you will have worked that out already. Take me home.” I cross my legs, knowing that in doing so, my dress will slide up my thighs, revealing the majority of my legs.
As I expected, Ross’s eyes follow the material of my dress. He then sits up awkwardly in his seat, leaning from side to side to make room for the large bulge straining against his trousers. Men are so predictable and easy. I direct Ross to my home and make small talk on the way.
As we pull up my drive, I feel it is best to establish what is going on here.
“To ensure we are both on the same page here,” I say confidently, “Tonight is a fuck—nothing more, nothing less.”
Ross stops the car immediately, then puts the handbrake on before turning to me with a half smirk, half frown.
“We will go in, have a drink, flirt a little, then sex. No sleeping here, no expectations. This is not and will never be the start of any kind of relationship. Do you understand?”
Ross smiles. He looks almost amused. “I understand perfectly, Mia.”
Reaching out to me, he strokes my jaw and guides it towards him. His lips meet mine with gentle pressure, and then he softly glides his tongue between my lips. Something tells me he doesn’t actually understand what this is. Well, that’s his fault. I finish the kiss and get out of the car. As I walk up the drive, my hips sway with the size of my heels. Ross will definitely have eyes on my arse right now. If he’s anything like Marco, my dress will be off as soon as we are inside, and he will be on me.
But to my surprise, Ross accepts the offer of a drink.
“A coffee would be great, thank you.”
As I switch the coffee machine on, I feel I may have made a mistake bringing him here. Well, I won’t be having a coffee. Opening a bottle of red, I listen to him talk about work. Smiling and nodding, I’m really not interested in what he is saying. He’s so handsome, though, so I just enjoy the view, hoping I can telepathically convince him to shut up and fuck me. If it had been Marco, it would all be over by now, and I’d be in bed, feeling completely satisfied and falling asleep with a smile on my face.
A yawn escapes my mouth. No, this is not happening.
I down the last of my wine, stand, then place my glass on the worktop. I remove my dress, and I open Ross’s thighs so I can stand in between them. He’s still talking to me, although it’s much slower, and he isn’t making much sense now as his eyes travel up and down my body. Covering his mouth with mine, I press my tongue in to his. I’m hungry for it, but there’s something not right, something not quite there.
I bite his tongue a little, and he jumps back, exclaiming, “Ouch.”
Seriously, that hurt him? Ignoring it, I continue kissing him. But he doesn’t touch me anywhere else. Where’s the bum grabbing and boob squeezing? Taking matters into my own hands, I straddle him, pushing my warm core into his groin, and a moan escapes his lips. Finally, we are getting somewhere.
He stands up, holding me in position. “Where is the bedroom?”
“Up the stairs, first door on the right.”
To be honest, I’d rather just do it here in the kitchen, but whatever floats his boat. He carefully carries me up the stairs, kissing me gently as he does. It’s all a bit too romantic for me. Once we are in the bedroom, he lays me on the bed. I instantly know there is something not right. It’s completely dark apart from slight moonlight coming through the blinds. I scan the room as best I can in this light, but everything seems normal.
Trying to ignore it, I concentrate on Ross, who has removed his shirt and tie and is kissing my stomach. It feels nice, but I’d rather just skip to the good part. My stomach flips, and I have butterflies, but it’s nothing to do with Ross. I reach toward my bedside light switch, but before I can reach it, the light turns on. The bright ceiling light fills the room. Shielding my eyes with my arm, I give them chance to adjust before I search the room for what I know is there.