Conquered by the Mafia Boss

“I’m buying you a drink.”

She pushes it away. “I don’t want your fucking drink.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

Then why did you sit right next to me?

“What’s with the tone?”

“You’re just trying to get into my pants.”

“Is it a crime that I think you’re gorgeous?”

She turns her head, her long hair snagging on her creamy shoulders. Brown eyes look at me under her long lashes, and they widen as she takes in my appearance. Gently parted lips beckon to me, and I smile at her. My cock makes an impatient twitch as her lips lift slightly.

Her slim body slides off the stool and she walks close to me. Close enough so that blood pounds in my ears and I’m face-to-face with an amazing view of her cleavage. Her lips, slightly wet with pink lipstick, tremble. The citrus scent floats over my like a cloud, not overpowering, but pleasant.

“I’ll do whatever you want if you get rid of my ex for me.”

Goddamn. The desperation in her voice makes my stomach sink, but I’m tempted to say yes. Fuck him-fuck the mob, I’ll kill him for you because I want to suck on your lips and feel the warmth of your tits in my palms.

Instead, I shake my head, hating the disappointment in her eyes. Her hand slides away from mine.

Don’t let her go!

“I’m sorry, hon. You’re not going to get anyone to agree to do that for you.”

She shakes her head, her eyes watering, and she gives a hopeless, sharp intake of breath that makes my insides clench.

I take her shoulder, half expecting her to throw my hand off, but she lets me touch her skin. My fingers just graze over her and her eyelids flutter.

“Come home with me and you’ll forget all about that asshole. I’ll make you feel really good, Elena. I promise.”

Her body shivers and she steps back from me. Temptation brews in her eyes like a storm gathering. I see it shifting and receding. She wants to, but she doesn’t want to.

Then she opens her mouth, her eyes hardening into marbles.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

Frustration gathers in my chest when she shoots me down. I want this woman-she’s a goddamn prize, and I would gladly shoot her ex-boyfriend in the face if it wouldn’t get me killed.

Elena turns to leave, taking her coat, but I grab her tiny wrist. I pull her into my chest and she utters a gasp. My arm wraps around her waist and she swallows hard.

“At least have a drink with me.”

“No.”

“Come on. One drink.”

She wets her lips, and for a moment I imagine them crushed against mine. My fingers tease around the hem of her shirt and then her eyes glint with pain and she reaches behind herself, grabbing my hands to rip them away from her body.

“You don’t know how to take no for an answer, do you?”

I grin at her, loving how ferocious she is, and the way her brown eyes seem to sparkle with electricity. Girl’s got fire.

“You kissed me back the other night and left me with a raging hard-on. I can’t leave you alone.”

Her mouth parts almost as though she’s about to give in, but then her eyes harden. “I don’t want you. End of story.”

Yet she doesn’t pull away when I grasp her chin and lean down close enough to feel her breath over my cheeks, and to see her neck pulsing with her racing heartbeat. My fingers run along her jaw, moving to the back of her head, into her silky hair. My lips fall against hers, and her mouth opens in a gasp. It’s intoxicating. This girl makes my body hot, and my other arm snakes around her tiny waist. I pull her smoking-hot body into mine, and her tits crush against my chest. I smile against her mouth as she sighs into mine. Her palm flattens against my body.

And she shoves me.

I have a brief view of her red, furious face before a sharp sting hits my cheek, her hand a beige blur. The slap echoes in the bar, despite the noise and the people everywhere. They turn to look at us, but they hardly give me a second glance. I’ve been slapped before. So what? They always go home with me.

I didn’t even fucking see it coming.

My chest shakes with laughter as she stands frozen with a semi-paralyzed look on her face, and then she turns around and bolts from the bar.

This isn’t over, honey.

ELENA

TWO WEEKS AGO

The world undulates in my head, continuously roaring as I stumble past New York City traffic. I feel as though I’m walking inside a bubble that distorts everything I see. Everything’s too loud, too fast. My head pounds, still echoing with the blows. It all sounds hollow.

I trip on something hard and fall on my knee. My jeans tear open and I feel a sharp sting. There are bits of gravel digging into the red gash. I brush them away carelessly and turn toward my sister’s apartment. How the hell did I ever make it here?

My balled-up fist hammers on the frozen door. It’s freezing outside, but for once I’m grateful for that. It soothes the aches on my face and my swollen eye. For a moment I think about pressing my whole body against the wood, but then the heavy door flies open.

My sister stands in the doorway of her brownstone, baby in arm, looking leggy and fabulous. Her gasp of horror suddenly chokes into laughter.

A cold feeling stabs my gut.

“Jesus, what happened to your face?”

Now that I’m so close to the entrance, the last bit of adrenaline fades and I clutch the iron rail to steady myself.

What the fuck do you think happened?

“Rafael hit me,” I say, swallowing hard when a triumphant smile stretches over her face. “I really need a place to stay.”

“I told you a thousand times, didn’t I? I warned you about him, but no, you had to have the bad boy.”

Yeah, she warned me about dating Dad’s associates. I didn’t care. He was intoxicating and full of life-Dad gave him his blessing. If Dad liked him, so would I.

I was so naive back then. He’s a monster-they’re all monsters, and the only thing that kept him from eating me alive was my father. It all changed so quickly.

“I know you warned me, but I really need your help now. I need a place to stay.”