Chapter Three
Luciano
“I thought you said you never wanted to see me again.” My jaw locked. I was close to crushing my cell between my fingers because of the heat that tightened my chest.
“It’s important,” he said grimly.
I grinned. “Ah. Let me guess. Your lackey is not around to sort out some business for you. So you decided to call the bastard to get the job done.”
“Damien is handling some business for me,” he snapped. “Stop being an ass and fucking listen to me.”
“What do you want, Dad?” I exhaled, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I have some shipments coming in at the docks. I need you to monitor them once they arrive.” All I heard was that since the fucker who was supposed to do it as usual wasn’t available, as the replacement that I was, I had to fill in.
I clenched my fists, gritting my teeth. “Always the replacement, isn’t it?”
“Don’t be a brat.”
I scoffed. “Why don’t you piss off and get it done yourself? After all, I have never been good at anything that has to do with the family.”
I hung up, cussing aloud. My chauffeur spared me a suspicious glance, and I glared at him. I looked out the window, the shitty call leaving a trail of hot lava in my chest every time I let it sink in. The only reason he reached out to me was that his dog wasn’t around to pick up the bones.
I had always been my father’s greatest disappointment, but it riled me up every time he rubbed it in my face like he was doing right now.
The tiny circles I rubbed on the velvet box in my hands brought me back to reality. My lips stretched into a shit-eating grin when my gaze landed on it.
I pulled the box open, and the sparkle from the five-carat marquise-cut diamond engagement ring nearly blinded me. The glinting rock was the highlight of the ring, strapped in place by a simple studded gold band.
It was befitting a queen. It was attention-grabbing, luxurious, and stunning.
Just the way I presumed she’d love it.
Andrea.
Something mesmerizing about her left me in a chokehold the night I saw her. She walked into that lounge, and I knew she was made for me. It was very easy to deduce that the way she was willing to lose herself in what we had that night was her attempt at never having to do it again.
She didn’t know it. But the moment I tasted her and sank my cock into her cunt, she became mine. She thought she was rid of me, but my heart was already bound to hers that night.
Andrea thought she could escape me, but she was mine to claim. Mine to fuck. Mine to own. Mine to possess.
Most people said I was cunning. Some said I was psychotic. Sadistic, even. But I simply saw it as me having to adapt any emotion I needed to get what I wanted. I could be anything the situation demanded, and if that wasn’t true power, I didn’t know what it was.
“We are here, sir,” my chauffeur announced.
The tall skyscraper sprawled out before us with its futuristic architecture and bold, glinting inscription of the company name, Riot. Riot was one of the biggest fashion magazines in the country, known for its captivating issues and collaborations with world-class designers and fashion brands.
I had acquired Skull’s Lounge a while back when I got bored and wanted to try out something new.
When Andrea and her friends showed up a few nights ago, I was intrigued, and her slipping out of my suite after our night together was just an excuse to dig into her.
I got substantial information on her in the blink of an eye.
If I were going to make her mine, I had to get to know her at least.
I picked up the giant bouquet of red roses lying next to me and got out of the car.
It was sunset already. The vibrant streaks of the sky cast a colorful glow on the surroundings but mostly highlighted the outlook of the tall building.
I strode into the building, heading straight for reception, where I met a flirty, ginger-haired woman.
“Good evening, sir. How may I help you?” She batted her eyelashes at me, then leaned over the countertop so that I could get a view of her cleavage.
Only one woman had that kind of effect on me. Andrea. All she had to do was exist.
“I’m here to see Andrea Rossi, please.” I maintained a polite smile.
“Is she expecting you?”
“It’s meant to be a surprise,” I told her. Her smile faltered a little, almost turning hostile. “She is not interested in making it public yet, but I’m her fiancé.” Her eyes widened.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t know,” she apologized. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment because she realized that she was trying to flirt with her boss’s fiancé.
Andrea might not be wearing my ring right now, but what was the harm in exaggerating things a little more than they were?
“Her office is on the top floor. Right after the employee’s cubicle, the secluded office in the space.” She filled me in.
I threw her a curt nod and approached the elevator that transported me to the top floor. I navigated my way through the cubicle, earning suspicious and flirty glances from both males and females. My face lit up with a shit-eating grin as I knocked on her door.
“Come in.” She sounded exhausted.
Has my girl been overworking herself?
I pushed the door open, letting myself into the cozy space. She wasn’t in her seat.
“What the hell are you doing here, and who the hell let you in in the first place?” her voice thundered through the room. It was harsh, dismissive, and nothing like the woman who begged me to fuck her.
My eyes snapped toward the other side of the room, catching her pair of flawless legs that seemed to go on forever—legs that were wrapped around me as I fucked her wet little cunt the other night. Blood rushed to my cock, hardening it to the point of pain.
“Are you deaf?” she repeated with so much hostility, tossing the book in her hands on the couch next to her.
My eyes locked on hers.
I stopped breathing.
Fuck, this woman is beautiful.
“That’s not a nice way to speak to a man who fucked you until you were sore and shaky, amore.” I grinned.
“You’re insane.” The contempt in her voice competed with her harsh, red flush.
I had seen her that night. I knew she was a gorgeous woman.
But right now, she looked like a breath of fresh air.
Her beauty was unearthly. Her two-piece was a buttoned-up blazer paired with a short skirt.
The blazer molded against her tits, the top undone buttons generously displaying the cleavage of her voluptuous teardrop tits.
Her wavy, dark brown hair was styled in waves, dropping past her shoulders.
And that fucking skirt was short? It was scandalous.
“Get out of my office,” she gritted.
“Nope.”
I strode toward her, aching to breathe in the same air as her. She didn’t shift as expected. Her hard, burning gaze was pinned on me to give the impression that she wasn’t scared of me. But the constant flushing of her cheeks, her fluttering lashes, and hitching breath sold her out.
“Do you stalk every woman you fuck?” She threw the question at me sternly.
I halted before her, catching a whiff of her rose and citrus scent. “Only the one I’m obsessed with.”
She exhaled. “I don’t know how else to say this—wait...” She closed the gap between us, peering harder at me.
Silence ensued between us, then was interrupted by her gasp. “I know you...”
Took you long enough, amore mio.
“What’s your last name?” Her voice was shaky.
I smirked. “Romano.”
Her eyes watered. I wanted to reach for a teardrop with my tongue and lick it off her face. Her lips parted in shock as she staggered backward like she had been smacked across the face.
“No ... no ... no...”
“What’s the matter, amore?” I cocked my head to the side. In the blink of an eye, I closed in on her, wrapping my arm around her delicate waist.
I sniffed her in.
“You are him, Domenico Romano’s son. The Mafia Don,” she whispered.
“More or less,” I murmured, glancing at her full, glossed lips.
“Please, just go.” She pushed at my chest, but I tightened my grip around her.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I lifted her with ease, planting her on the surface of the minibar behind us. I pushed my frame between her legs, causing her breath to hitch.
I ran my hands up her naked thighs, burying my face into her neck and reveling in how she shuddered against me.
“What do you want?”
“It’s easy.” I grinned. “I came to ask you to marry me.”
She froze.
My knuckles brushed her cheek, gliding across it airily before I cupped the back of her head.
Our noses brushed, heat coursing through my veins at the light contact.
Her scent, her essence, the lushness of her hair all turned me into a madman.
I tugged her into me by one of her legs, desperate to feel her body crushed against mine.
“Are you crazy? You don’t even know me!”
“I know that you need a fiancé, ASAP,” I countered, nipping her lips and causing her to moan.
“How do you even...?” She paused. Her glare deepened, growing a lethal edge. “You tricked me into telling you!” she snapped.
“No.” I reached for the velvet box beside her, pulling it open. “I used your body against you to get what I wanted. There’s a difference, amore mio.”
“I don’t care. I’m not marrying you. I don’t need you.” Her eyes flickered to the ring, and I was certain I saw a look of longing in her doe brown eyes.
“You need me, and you know it.”
“I won’t do it,” she insisted. “It’s bad enough that I let Domenico Romano’s son get between my legs. I won’t make things worse by pretending to be engaged to you.” She pried herself from my hold like I was vermin.
She hopped off the countertop. Her eyes flashed with fury as she pushed at my chest. She stormed past me, pulling down her skirt aggressively.
Her ass looked delectable in that skirt, and her hips swayed without effort. It made my cock hard.
“Your proposal is denied. Get the fuck out of my office.”