Chapter Six

Delilah

I woke to sunlight blazing through the slitted cracks in the blinds, and to Serafino sleeping soundly beside me. I wasn't surprised. He'd been insatiable. I'd never been so thoroughly fucked in my entire life.

I managed to extricate myself from his arms, though he muttered something in his sleep that sounded aggrieved.

I winced as I pushed to my bare feet. I ached everywhere. He'd brought me pleasure even while he'd at times pushed the limits to my pain, though the former had won out every single time.

I retrieved my thong and pulled it up my legs, then found my bra and clipped it on. I couldn't resist turning to stare at Serafino one last time as he peacefully slept. He looked so much younger, almost innocent, despite the fact he so easily killed. That he'd also brought me to ecstasy and made me yearn for more seemed wrong on so many levels.

I turned away, grabbing my skimpy dress off the floor and dragging it over my head. I found my diamond clip near the bed and I slid it through my tangled hair after creating a messy bun.

It was only then that I realized I'd left my clutch bag, the lifeblood of my profession, behind in the bar downstairs last night. I needed —or at least the cell phone inside of it—so that I could ring Sinead, the madam of the girls where I worked, to organize transport.

"Going somewhere?"

My pulse surged as I spun back around to face Serafino. Damn, he was a beautiful man, his sex-tousled hair and brilliantly dark, narrowed eyes making my insides clench. That he was also deadly made me swallow hard. I might have had sex with him, but it didn't mean I was now safe.

He threw the covers aside and swung out of bed, unashamedly naked, his morning erection proudly jutting out as if reminding me how much I enjoyed being the recipient of such a powerful tool.

I cleared my throat. "I am," I said huskily. "Our business here is done."

He stalked around the bed toward me. I stood my ground even though I felt like I was prey for him to capture and devour.

Need rippled through me, my body telling me I wouldn't mind a repeat performance.

He didn't say a word when he stopped in front of me. Not even when he clasped either side of my face and tipped my head up as his swooped low and he claimed my mouth in a kiss that immediately curled my toes.

Only once I'd melted against him, submissive to his demands, did he release me and ask hoarsely, "Is it?"

I nodded mutely, sweeping a hand toward the slats of the blind where sunlight poured through. "We agreed to one night together. Sinead will already be in a panic—"

"Sinead works for me," he interjected. "Believe me, she won't interfere on your behalf. She knows better."

I pressed my hand to my brow. I'd only been working at the exclusive escort agency for a couple of months, it seemed I still had a lot to learn—like who Sinead was actually working for. Who I was working for. It made sense now why two of my coworkers had refused to attend the mafia celebration. They'd probably been regulars of the mafia brothers and had known what to expect.

He arched a brow as he watched my expression, my thoughts no doubt showing through my eyes like words in an open book. "Your two friends who didn't show up last night are likely already fired. Sinead values loyalty and respect as much as I do."

My pulse fluttered furiously. "Wasn't I enough for you?"

He chuckled darkly. "You were more than enough, sweetheart. You're all I want. But I can't say the same for my brothers. Since I made you unavailable, they would have had to find some female guests to enjoy in their beds...or wherever they happened to fuck them."

I quietly exhaled before another thought brought back anxiety. I'd been ready to hand in my resignation, but if two girls were already gone, Sinead could ill-afford another girl to leave.

Shit.

He smirked, his eyes assessing me. "She also values the girls who look after their clients."

I frowned. "I did that—very well—last night."

"You did," he murmured. "But I'm not finished with you yet. I want today and tonight again with you."

Something dark and intoxicating stirred inside me, making me breathless...reckless. This was living! This was the challenge I needed. It didn't mean I'd be taken for granted. "I don't do anything for free. My time has a price."

He didn't appear shocked, if anything he seemed accepting, perhaps even a little amused. "You will be generously compensated."

" Generously? " I repeated.

His eyes hardened fractionally. But I wasn't about to defend myself. I wasn't about to ease his mind and tell him I never wanted to be poverty-stricken or homeless again. If I was a gold digger it was because I had no one to rely on except myself. My financial security and independence was imperative to me now.

I couldn't ever be helpless again.

" Very generously," he added.

I tingled all over, even as a part of me shriveled a little. Did he look at me differently now? Pfft. I might be a high-class escort, but most men, even those who had sex with me, considered me lower than low. The double-standards and hypocrisy had long ago stopped making my blood boil.

I'd accepted I couldn't control other peoples' mindset. That my fucked-up childhood had led me toward this path wouldn't matter to them, and I was sure it wouldn't matter to Serafino, either.

He turned from me and stalked around the bed to his nightstand, his back muscles flexing and his lighter-skinned buttocks apple-tight. I swallowed convulsively as he retrieved his cellphone. He glanced back at me. "Let me put that money into your account. This will be off the books, yours alone. I'm certain Sinead has made enough off you and the rest of the girls."

My throat tightened, my chest warming, though I hopefully managed not to look too desperate or grateful as I rattled off my bank details.

He nodded, then finished with his banking, he put down his cell and said, "Let's get out of here."

I looked down at my barely-there dress. "In this?" It wasn't exactly appropriate for daytime wear.

He stepped back to his walk-in closet, forgoing underwear as he dressed into a charcoal gray suit with a cream shirt. After pushing on his footwear, he retrieved a white, button–up shirt and returned to hand it to me. "This should suffice for now."

I pushed my arms into the shirt's long sleeves, then buttoned it up before tying it to one side so that the hem of my dress was visible beneath.

His eyes darkened. "You've transformed that shirt. But then, you'd look gorgeous in a sack."

After re-holstering his firearm, he reached for my hand, then led me back through the wing of his house and down the elevator. Collecting my clutch bag from under the bar, we walked together out through the portico.

I breathed in the fresh morning air that was tinged with pine and the vague scent of wood smoke. A bird twittered in the trees, a small lizard scuttling off the slate pathway and under the safety of the hedges.

My heels then crunched across gravel before click-clacking on the concrete driveway, where a suited man waited beside the opened, back passenger door of a black sedan.

I nodded at him, but he barely acknowledged me. I supposed I barely scraped anyone's interest being that I was nothing more than a prostitute, yet another transient lover in Serafino's life. I sighed heavily as I climbed into the leather seat and slid across, making room for him.

He looked at me. "Everything okay?"

I nodded. "Nothing I haven't gotten used to."

He cocked a brow. "Meaning?"

The driver shut the passenger door then walked around the car to take the driver's seat. I nodded at the man. "Meaning I'm looked at differently, with disdain or disinterest, thanks to being a sex worker."

"Emilio," he barked at the driver.

Emilio turned his head, his eyes sharp and bright with fear as he focused on Serafino. "Yes?"

"You will treat my lady friend here with the utmost respect and reverence."

Emilio turned his head to look at me. "My apologies, Ma'am."

"Apology accepted," I said in a small voice, though sparks of happiness filled me from within. Serafino had listened to me before acting on my behalf. I'd never had that from anyone before.

The driver smiled at me, then fired up the engine and drove down the long driveway before turning right onto an arterial road. That New York was a little over an hour in the other direction had me sitting up and asking Serafino, "Where are we going, exactly?"

"You'll see," he said noncommittedly.

We didn't travel far, maybe thirty minutes before the driver slowed then turned off the main road onto a narrower strip of asphalt that led to a small, tranquil village nestled amongst hills with leafy trees. It boasted an old-world charm, which I imagined drew in tourists as it was bustling for such a small community.

I had to admit, I was a little excited at the outing. I rarely ventured outside of New York, my apartment was ludicrously expensive and my work kept me city bound most of the time. Not to mention I was doing everything possible to fill my savings account.

The driver opened the back passenger door, and Serafino pushed on dark sunglasses before he slid out, then proffered me a hand. I accepted his steadying clasp as he drew me to my feet, my heels unwieldy on the cobblestone pathway that bordered the shopfronts along the street.

Two young women strutted past in jeans and cowgirl hates, and I touched my messy bun, then looked down at my borrowed white shirt and the dress that barely covered my ass. I stood out like a sore thumb. I hadn't even had a shower this morning.

Did I smell like sex?

"You're beautiful," he murmured, as though reading my mind. Then he leaned closer and said, "I can smell myself on you."

Another sedan pulled in behind us and he sent the driver a lazy wave before explaining, "Extra security, just to be safe."

He scanned the area, then drew me across the street to a cozy café that was buzzing with patrons. "It's still early enough for the breakfast menu."

The café was charming, with rattan chairs and glass tabletops, a blackboard showcasing the day's specials in looping, cursive writing. The scent of pastries and coffee beans was heavy in the air, the espresso machine kept busy as it gurgled and hissed.

A pretty young waitress approached, but Serafino had eyes only for me when she asked for our orders. I requested a chai latte while he decided on a strong black coffee. For breakfast we decided on sausages, eggs and hash-browns with a side of grilled tomato and avocado.

It wasn't until our drinks arrived, steam floating gently from the top of the mugs, that I asked him, "So, who is Carlo to you?"

"He's our consigliere, my oldest brother's advisor. He was also our late father's consigliere."

At least now I understood why he respected the older man so much. I knew enough about the mob to comprehend Carlo was a big deal.

I'm sorry about your dad."

My heart ached whenever I thought about my own father no longer being around.

"Don't be." He took a sip from his mug. "He wasn't exactly a loveable father."

"What did he do?"

"Other than being so ambitious he used his sons and daughter to be the most feared mafia family in New York and the entire country? It didn't matter to him how he obtained that objective, just as long as he did." He grimaced. "I guess that was why Ethan eliminated our dad before he forced Ethan to eliminate Sabrina."

I gaped. "Your dad wanted Ethan to get rid of his own wife?" Serafino nodded and I added, "That is fucked up."

His grin was a little crooked. "Welcome to my family." He put his mug down. "What about your family?"

I grimaced. "I don't really remember my mother. I was five when she returned to France and remarried."

"That explains your accent."

"It might be the only thing I acquired from her." I took a sip of my drink, the spices soothing. "She started a new life with another man and left me with dad. I was happy enough, but he must have been lonely. He remarried when I was nine, then died when I was thirteen. Turned out his heart wasn't good. I sometimes wonder if my mom broke it."

"What happened to your stepmother?"

I almost choked on my next sip as I tried not to show my hurt, my desolation. "She was hateful," I said quietly. "I think every time she looked at me she saw my father. She couldn't cope. I ran away and never looked back. I didn't care that I was broke and homeless for weeks."

His nostrils flared ever so slightly. "You survived by selling your body?"

I nodded. "It didn't take long to discover it was my ticket to financial freedom."

His gaze held mine. "How old were you when you ran away?"

"Sixteen," I admitted.

He reached for my hand, his expression solemn. "I'm sorry you went through that."

I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. I was a high class hooker, I wasn't meant to burden my clients with negativity. Most of my clients were trying to escape their own family dramas. But Serafino had said he didn't want the fantasy. I guess I'd given him anything but that.

At least the sex had been incredible.

I cleared my throat. "It all worked out in the end."

He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head, his astute stare appearing to see right through me. "Did it?" He smiled, though his eyes glittered with knowledge. "If you'd been able to pick a career before you were forced into your present occupation, what would you have become?"

I shrugged. "Probably an interior designer and decorator. I have a good eye."

"You're still young enough to fulfill that dream."

I nodded. "I am." I'd just turned twenty-two, yet it seemed as though I'd lived three or four lifetimes already.

"Just not yet?" he prompted.

I took another sip of my chai latte. He didn't need to know I wasn't doing escort work after this last night with him. I just had to convince Sinead of that. Being that she'd just lost two workers and I was one of her most sought after call girls, she wouldn't be happy I wanted to leave.

A waitress brought our breakfast then, and I was thankful for the interruption. No client had ever asked about me about my plans, my future, they'd only ever been keen to discuss their own interests.

Picking up my fork, I said wryly, " Bon appetit ."