Model for the Mob (Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance) - Page 26

I see disbelief trying to writhe into her expression, her desire to call me a liar quivering beneath the absolute trust she has placed in me. Relief washes through me when I see her choose her trust, as she awaits my answer.

“Mafia guys normally can’t. But I can. I’ve forged connections over the years which give me access to certain privileges.”

“I don’t understand.”

But she wants to, and that’s yet another piece of evidence that she’s going to make the finest mafia queen imaginable. She wants to learn about the business.

Other women have approached me over the years, but I could always see how little they cared about how I made my money. They only cared that the money was there and that they could have access to it.

“I’ve made connections with every law enforcement agency in the States. They know I keep the streets clean. They know what I do makes life easier for everybody, especially the under-privileged Franco loves to target.”

“Like me,” she whispers, with the ghost of a tremble in her voice.

“He’s lucky I wasn’t there when he picked you up. He would’ve received more than my hand at his throat for the infraction.”

“Then I’m glad you weren’t there,” she says. “I don’t want you getting locked up, Luca, not now when you’re…”

“What?” I growl, when she falls silent and turns to face the water, the glittering lights dancing amidst the calm surface.

“When you’re finally showing me how much I’m worth,” she says, meeting my gaze again with visible effort. “I know that sounds—”

“No,” I snap.

“No? No what?”

“You don’t need to explain why you said what you said. You don’t need to add caveats. You are worth more than the world, and it’s time you accepted that. So don’t tell me it sounds arrogant or conceited or silly or anything other than what it is… the truth. The truth is that you’re worth more than every other person on this planet combined. You, Maria, our family—there’s nothing that will stop me from protecting it all.”

“Don’t forget Toto.” She giggles with tears shining in her eyes. “I can’t wait for our children to meet that little rascal.”

“Rascal?” I chuckle. “He normally just curls up in my lap and sleeps.”

“What? He was a little terror today, in the best possible way. He was running around like a madman, sniffing and swimming.”

I smirk at the image of the cute-as-hell dog loping around.

“Never with me. It’s strange. He always prefers to be held and to sleep when I’m around.”

“It’s because he knows what an amazing father you’re going to make,” she says, squeezing my hands somehow harder until it’s like we could fuse together in a moment of star-blazed need.

“I hope so,” I say.

“I know so,” she counters.

I reach up and brush tears from her cheeks with my thumb.

“Let’s order some food, Lucy,” I say. “Your tears make me think about our future, about my past, about everything we’re going to build and the future we’re going to make together.”

“And that’s bad?” she whispers.

“No, it’s good. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But it makes me want to bring that life closer… it makes me want to claim you, right here, like the animal I am. I’ve been fighting the urge all evening.”

“I ache for it too,” she murmurs. “But first…”

“Food,” I say, nodding.

Even if I hunger for something else, something primal and hot and hungry, something that demands to be fed. I hunger for her body, and for the way, her spirit will blossom as she shakes and quivers for me with euphoric release.

Soon, I tell the beast inside of me.

Soon I will claim her.

She deserves to be treated right first.

Chapter Fourteen

Lucy

The waiters bring steaming platters over on the platforms. I felt anxious as I scrolled through Luca’s phone, where the e-menu was, looking at all the delicious meals and then turning my eyes to the salad. I haven’t been to very many restaurants in my life, but whenever I do go I always order something that won’t fill me up.

I never want to be seen as the curvy girl pigging out.

But Luca reads me perfectly, as he always seems to be able to do. He read me and growled that I should order whatever the hell I want to eat. That fire came into his eyes, the rage that floods him whenever he thinks I’m doing something not because I want to do, but because I feel like I should because it’s been conditioned into me.

So I ordered a burger and fries with a milkshake on the side.

Screw it.

He finds me beautiful no matter what.

“Great,” he said, as I passed the phone back. “I’ll take the same.”

Now the waiter is gone and it’s just us and our food, throwing steamy enticing smells into the air.

“This looks delicious,” he says, picking up his burger. He makes it look small in his giant paw.

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