Chapter 18
Eighteen
Nova
He’s a fucking liar.
Ashton Rinaldi.
Or maybe I just thought he’d give up the mafia like a caffeine addiction, a bad habit. It was supposed to be temporary, only while he’s in college.
Yes, I realize he hasn’t graduated yet, but any college credit for the job is well and truly done.
He’s working for Dante because he wants to or because he can’t leave.
I had mistakenly assumed it was the latter.
After storming out of Ashton’s bedroom, I head into my room and slam the door shut. I swear the house shakes.
I’m visibly shaking with rage.
What a fucking asshole!
He’s going to be just like his father, my father, all of them. I throw my head back and scream at the top of my lungs.
There’s not so much as a knock on my door when it bursts right open. I spin on my heel to yell at Ashton to get the fuck out when I realize it’s Liam.
“Are you okay?” He looks a bit afraid to ask and then steps in farther when I don’t yet bite off his head and shuts my door, giving us privacy.
“No, I’m not fucking okay.” I wince, realizing I’m being rude to the one person who is actually trying to be decent and check up on me.
Maybe Liam will understand. He has parents who are mafia and he doesn’t seem like he wants to work for them. But after what I’d heard earlier, about him taking on a job with Dante, I don’t know.
I don’t quite get it.
What makes that man so appealing that they all want to go to work for him?
He’s a monster.
Same as my father.
Doesn’t mean I don’t love my old man, but he’s still a murderer.
Just because we’re blood doesn’t mean I want that in my life forever. And I was beginning to imagine a forever with Ashton.
“I’m afraid to ask if you want to talk about it,” Liam says, and offers a nervous grin. “I can leave if you just want to scream some more. But you know we have nosey neighbors who may just call the cops on us, again.”
I snort and cover my face with my hands. “I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?” Liam asks, and slowly, he steps closer, coming to embrace me in a hug.
Exhaling, I allow his hug to offer support before pulling away. “Ashton wants to work for Dante, or maybe his father, I don’t know who, the mafia, forever.” I’m rambling and frustrated, and my thoughts are running together like mud.
Liam rests his hands on my shoulders, staring at me. “You always knew Ashton’s dad is Aurielo Rinaldi. He runs the Chicago Mafia.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think he would, you know, want to do that after graduating.” I’d been foolish to think he wanted a life bigger than all of that.
“Sometimes we don’t get the choices we think we deserve,” Liam says cryptically.
I raise an eyebrow, curious. “I heard you’re working for the famous Dante Ricci now, too. What’d he do, offer you a fifty thousand dollar signing bonus?” I’m joking, but he doesn’t so much as smile.
“Father’s orders. It’s that, or Sophia is forced into an arranged marriage in New York.”
I stumble backward, shocked, and bump into my dresser. “No way.”
“Unfortunately, the only way to make him reconsider was agreeing to work under Dante for a while. Sophia gains experience while I’m tasked with keeping an eye on her.”
I’m a bit perplexed at the idea that Liam has to play babysitter to his twin. “At the bar?”
Liam grabs a seat on my bed. “I think it’s more of an in general watch over her, keep her safe, make sure she’s not getting into trouble under Dante’s watch.”
“Shouldn’t that be his responsibility? Keeping his crew safe?” I still can’t believe Sophia and Liam got dragged into working for the Ricci family. It had been bad enough knowing Harper was forced into it to keep Luca’s secret as well as her own.
Liam doesn’t answer me; he knows better than to argue with me when I’m right.
“Damn it. Does everyone bow to their mafia dad around here?” I grumble, glancing at him, waiting for him to say something.
“You clearly don’t. Maybe you could teach me a thing or two,” Liam says and offers a faint smile.
“My father isn’t Don.”
Which might explain why Ashton, Liam, and Luca have all done as they’re told. They fear their fathers. I’ve never feared mine. Well, not since I was a little girl. I suppose Paige, my stepmom, made me realize that he wasn’t to be feared.
Liam tilts his head, staring at me, like I’ve just figured it all out. He stands and retreats for the door. “Don’t give Ashton too hard a time. He’s a good guy.”
He is a good guy.
It’s why I hate seeing him work for Dante, tainting him. Destroying his soul.
Liam heads out of my room, leaving the door wide open.
I take two steps forward to shut it and meet Ashton’s stare. “You still pissed at me?” Ashton asks.
“Are you still working for Dante?”
His eyes flicker and he storms across the room, practically barreling into me. He pushes me backward, his lips on mine, his hands on my hips, and he lifts me into his arms, backing me up against the wall.
My legs wrap around his waist, my arms around his neck as he shoves his tongue into my mouth, devouring me.
I should be angry with him.
I should scream at him.
Yell.
Tell him to go fuck himself.
But holy hell, the kiss is like fire and I’m burning up inside.
My hands rake through his hair and claw at his back as he grinds against me, his mouth never seeming to let go.
The room feels like a million degrees and my pussy flutters from his mouth on mine.
Holy hell, the man knows how to kiss.
Not that it’s new information, but I’ve never been so turned on from just his lips on mine. He sits me at the edge of my desk and backs away.
“Where the hell are you going?” I growl, eyes wide as I glare at him, prepared to leap off the desk and tackle his ass if necessary.
He doesn’t get to walk away from me.
“Closing the door.” He grins, kicking it shut. He’s back on me, his mouth covering mine as he leans forward, laying me on my desk, the books and papers falling to the floor in a heap.
I don’t fucking care.
“The door,” I rasp between kisses.
“I just shut it,” he reminds me like I didn’t just see him slam it with his foot.
His mouth is on my neck, my ear, he’s hitting every spot that sends my body shuddering. “It’s not locked,” I protest.
He laughs under his breath, clearly amused. “Trust me, no one is coming in right now.”
How can he be so certain? And so damn confident?
“How do you know that?” I reach for his jaw, wanting his mouth back on mine when he restrains my hands on the desk with his. He’s so much bigger than I am. His hands, his body, everything about him is huge.
“That little outburst earlier,” he pins me with his stare, “everyone is afraid of you, Nova. You’d make a good mafia leader, a capo—perhaps.”
Snarling, I lean up and tug his bottom lip between my teeth.
“Feisty,” Ashton mutters. He doesn’t seem to be complaining. I release his lip and he quirks a grin. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re angry.”
His lips dance a path along my neck, leaving a warm trail of kisses that burn my skin and make my skin tingle. His hands work the button of my jeans free, sliding them over my hips and down to the floor.
I don’t protest or stop him.
There is a fire raging inside of me. A dangerous storm building with intensity, it draws nearer. He yanks my shirt up and over my head, and it hits the ground with a thud.
“Get undressed,” I order, giving him a command like I’m the one in charge, when it’s really him.
He drops his pants in a matter of seconds. Ashton tosses his shirt across my room; it lands on the mattress.
The sizzle of heat and electricity is like a live current teasing through my veins as I watch him, waiting.
It’s not sweet and slow. He’s not whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
Each thrust is entirely primal.
Driven only by passion and emotions.
I reach for his shoulder, my fingernails digging into his flesh, marking him, leaving impressions behind on his skin as I glide my hand to his back.
I don’t have to tell him to fuck me harder.
Ashton is already there. Pounding into me. I can no longer tell where I end and he begins.
We’re one.
The heat floods my senses, the warmth cascading over me like a waterfall as I shift my hips slightly and he hits that perfect, delicious spot that makes me scream in blissful pleasure.
My heart pounds wildly and feels like it might escape my chest. “Oh my God!”
He bites my lip as he kisses me, the moan rushing through me as my insides quake.
“Ashton,” I rasp, my voice catching in the back of my throat as I find it nearly impossible to speak.
Words are lost on me as it takes great effort just to breathe.
Each thrust grows more intense as I teeter on the edge of oblivion. Ashton’s breath is on my neck. His face is red, sweat slicks his brow.
He’s unrestrained in a way I’ve never witnessed with him. It’s both savage and dangerous, but it draws me nearer. I can’t stop myself, even if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. I want this with him, right here, right now.
He doesn’t scare me. Ashton has never been cruel, at least not to me.
“Don’t … move,” he barks at me, and his body grows incredibly still.
My insides pulsate as he withdraws, and I’m left on the desk, breathless, heart pounding, and unsatisfied.
“What the fuck, Rinaldi?” I sit up, wondering why he’s backing away from me, like I’m the villain and he’s some fucking hero.
News flash, Ashton: You work for the mafia. You can’t be the good guy.
I want to scream it at him as he backs away. “You deserve better.” He runs a hand through his unkempt hair. He’s breathing hard, gasping for breath, and he bends down, tossing me my clothes, like this is the first time and shit just got awkward.
Except it’s not our first, and this is my room. If anyone is going to leave, it’ll be him.
“What the hell?” I snap at him, push myself off the desk and slip my shirt back on.
“I forgot a condom,” he grunts and turns his back to me.