2. Five Years Later

Maty

“Aaand… done!” I sigh in relief as the last line of code falls into place. Another digital barrier built against potential intruders into the DeLuca family business. Not that they’d get far if they tried - I’ve spent the last five years ensuring we’re locked up tighter than Fort Knox.

I push my glasses up and glance at the clock. Shit, after midnight already? The office is empty, a ghost town lit only by the glow of my triple monitors. I should head home, try to get a few hours of sleep before the next crisis hit. Because in this business, there’s always a next crisis.

As I’m shutting down, a shadow falls across my desk. I freeze, my hand going instinctively to the weapon tucked away in my top drawer. You don’t get to be the top tech of a mafia empire without some well-honed survival instincts.

“Working late again?”

The deep, rumbling voice sends shivers down my spine. I don’t need to turn to know who it is. Alessio fucking DeLuca, Capo di tutti capi, king of this castle and the bane of my overworked, undersexed existence.

I paste on a professional smile before turning to face him. “Just wrapping up some routine maintenance, boss.”

He leans against the doorframe of my office, arms crossed over his broad chest. The sleeves of his crisp white button-up strain around his biceps, and his dark slacks hug his muscular thighs. Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that good, especially at this hour.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Maty.” His arctic blue eyes rake over me. “Go home. Get some rest,” he fucking orders.

I stiffen at his commanding tone even as a traitorous warmth blooms in my belly. I’m not some fucking damsel in distress to be bossed around- no matter how hot and scary he is.

“I’ll go home when my work is done,” I reply firmly, standing to shrug on my hoodie. At 5’4” I’m doll-sized next to his towering frame, but I square my shoulders and stare right back.

Something flashes in his eyes, there and gone too quickly to decipher. I’ll never understand what goes on in that beautiful, infuriating head of his.

“Careful, little one,” he warns in a dangerously soft tone. “That smart mouth of yours will get you in trouble one of these days.”

I suppress a shiver at the heat in his gaze. What I wouldn’t give for him to make good on that threat, to put my smart mouth to better use than sassing him. Not that he’d ever touch me. I’m not his type - too nerdy, too curvy now that I no longer live a life of starvation, too damn stubborn to be the kind of compliant arm candy he usually goes for.

I grab my bag and march towards the door, ignoring the way my body reacts to his nearness. Stupid fucking hormones. You’d think after five years I’d have built up some kind of immunity. But noooo, every rare interaction leaves me burning, my skin too tight and my thighs clenched against the ache.

“Goodnight, Mr. DeLuca,” I say pointedly as I brush past him. The spicy, woodsy scent of his cologne hits me like a drug.

“I told you to call me Alessio,” he murmurs, and I nearly stumble.

Nope, not going there. That path only leads to heartbreak and mayhem. I hurry to the elevators, feeling the burn of his gaze on my back. It’s not until the doors close behind me that I exhale shakily, sagging against the mirrored wall.

One of these days, Alessio DeLuca will be the fucking death of me.

* * *

“Girl, you look like crap.”

I glare through bloodshot eyes at my best friend, Nia. Of course, she looks annoyingly refreshed for ass o’clock in the morning, hair sleek and makeup on point as she sips her coffee.

“And a good morning to you too, bish.” I grab the extra cup she got me and take a bracing gulp. The caffeine hits my veins like a small electric shock. “Some of us were up late fortifying networks, not getting our beauty sleep.”

Nia arches a flawless brow. “Oh, is that what we’re calling lusting after our mafioso boss now?”

“Girl, hush,” I hiss, glancing around the cafe. You never know who might be listening. “For the last time, I do not lust over-”

“The most powerful, dangerous, panty-soakingly gorgeous man in California?” She smirks. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

My face flames. I don’t have the energy for Nia’s shit. “Don’t you have an at-risk youth to go counsel or something? I thought social workers started working at the crack of dawn.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “I cleared my morning for you, bitch. You’re welcome.” Then her eyes turn concerned. “But you really look like shit, babe. What’s going on?”

My shoulders sag. Damn her for knowing me so well. “It’s just… I don’t know. Work stuff. Alessio stuff.” I shrug.

“Ooh, Alessio stuff.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Do tell.”

I groan, stumping my forehead on the table. “There’s nothing to tell! That’s the problem. He barely looks at me, barely speaks to me… then sometimes he pulls that brooding, ‘let me tell you what’s good for you’ crap and I just…”

“Cream your panties?”

“Woman, I will end you.”

She cackles when I raise my head to scowl at her. “I’m just saying, that man is a whole ass meal and you’re out here starving. Why not take a bite?”

“Because he’s not on the menu,” I say firmly. “He’s made it very clear this is strictly professional. And even if it wasn’t, men like him don’t go for girls like me.”

Her eyes narrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

I gesture vaguely at myself - sporty hoodie, bright colored leggings, curls all over the place. “You know. Nerdy. Too busy hacking the Pentagon to get regular bikini waxes.”

“Okay, first of all, you could hack the Pentagon in your sleep. Second, you’re a goddamn queen and any man would be lucky to-”

I hold up a hand to cut off her rant. “I love you for saying that, Nia. But let’s be real. I’m not his type. Men like DeLuca go for runway models and famous actresses. Not…” I look down at myself again. “This.”

Nia throws up her hands. “Fine. Stay in denial. I’ll just be here, collecting receipts for my ‘Told You So’ party, when you two finally fuck.”

My cheeks burn even as I laugh. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

She winks as we both fall out.

“But seriously, Maty. Maybe it’s time you let go of your book boyfriends and try the real deal. I mean, we both love our smut, but there’s nothing like the real thing.”

I snort. “Oh, please. Like you’re any better. I’ve seen your e-reader. It’s all billionaire bad boys and mafia dons.”

She gasps in mock outrage, but her eyes glaze over for a quick second. “How dare you expose me like that? I have a reputation.”

We dissolve into giggles again; the tension easing from my shoulders. Nia always knows how to make me laugh, even when I’m drowning in my own drama.

Her phone buzzes, and she glances at it, cursing. “Gotta run - court appearance in 20. You good?”

I nod and blow her a kiss as she dashes off.

I lean back in my chair and sigh. If only things were as simple as Nia makes them out to be. A quick fuck and all this unresolved tension evaporates. Poof.

But nothing about Alessio DeLuca is simple. He’s a complication wrapped in an enigma, topped with a sprinkle of danger. And I… I’m just the I.T. girl.

Time to face reality. I toss my empty cup and head to the office. Maybe losing myself into coding will take my mind off a certain pair of piercing blue eyes.

Yeah, and maybe I’ll win the lottery and quit this life of frustration. A girl can dream.

But in my dreams, it’s not binary that fills my head. It’s a husky voice whispering filthy promises in my ear as firm hands map my aching body. It’s the scrape of stubble on my inner thighs, the wet heat of a skilled tongue parting my folds.

In my dreams, Alessio DeLuca isn’t a complication. He’s the solution to every desperate craving I’ve ever had.

Too bad I always wake up.

Maybe it’s time I explore some of my other dreams. I’ve been playing with a business idea for years, crafting a detailed plan, pouring every ounce of my extra time and energy into it. A high-end matchmaking service that can make your ultimate romance book fantasies come to life.

So many women out there are just like me and Nia. Spending our nights with our noses buried in steamy romance, dreaming of the perfect man to sweep us off our feet. What if I could make those dreams a reality? Match lonely hearts with the real deal -their favorite book boyfriends?

Of course, it wouldn’t be cheap. The startup costs alone are enough to make my head spin. Thorough background checks. Psych evals. Medical screenings.

It’s a crazy idea, I know. A total gamble. But I know it could be a game-changer and my golden ticket out of this dangerous world and into a life of freedom.

I just need to iron out the details…. and an investor with deep pockets and a taste for the unconventional. An investor like Alessio DeLuca…