CHAPTER TWO

ADELINA

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“Bedroom,” Dante says behind me, and I shoot him a glare before leading him to the library. These damn gangsters think they can boss me around day and night.

And they do.

My father does, his men do, and so does Dante Baldassare.

He has since I was born.

As a little girl I idolized him. He played with me, protected me, and then one day...he said he was going to marry me.

I don’t remember how old I was, but I knew he was serious. I knew he was becoming a grown-up and that one day he would be like our fathers.

Mean.

Scary.

I watched my mother drink, smoke, and eventually die from what I think was a broken heart. Little by little, the idea of staying in this world became extremely unappealing. If I married Dante, my fate would be sealed.

So I pulled away.

I rejected every little bit of attention, telling him I wasn’t interested.

He never believed me then, and he still doesn’t.

But my father was clear with him; I can never be his. Leo was promised to Gianna—his sister—and having both siblings married to one another is apparently not acceptable.

I was relieved.

Dante furious.

His glowering eyes found mine that day and I swallowed down my attraction to him. Thinking of how eventually he’d find another girl to marry. He hadn’t buffed out like he is now, and it’s taken a lot of effort to hide how much he affects me.

Which is why I cannot give this man an inch.

If he sees behind my mask, it’s game over.

Now he’s the don.

Having him here is dangerous.

But his father just died and if there’s one thing I cannot fake, it’s that I care for this man.

Though he’d have to point a gun at my head to make me admit it. And Dante Baldassare would never ever hurt me. He would kill any man that tried.

“Adelin—”

I turn and stab my finger into his chest. “No. I am not taking you to my bedroom.”

“For the love of god, woman. I’m not a fourteen-year-old boy.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve already seen...” He runs his eyes down my body.

I frown.

No he hasn’t. I’m a twenty-six-year-old woman now. Back then, when he saw me, I was sixteen.

“That was ten years ago, and things have changed.”

“Have they?” His eyes sparkle.

I spin away. “Ugh.”

Trying to argue with this man is like holding a raw egg yolk in your hand. Impossible.

I continue down to the library and thankfully Dante doesn’t argue. But as soon as we step inside he closes the door behind us and grabs my hand. I’m yanked back to him, and he threads his fingers through my hair.

I gasp and breathe in his familiar scent as my gaze drifts over the dark sexy whiskers on his face. Lust fills his eyes.

“When are you going to stop resisting this?” he rasps.

“Your father has just died. Jesus Dante.” I press my hands against his hard muscular chest and force back the moan wanting to escape my throat.

I fight the urge to curl my fingers and plead for more.

He lets out a low growl, his eyes lingering on my lips, and then lets me go.

“Do not go outside like that again, half naked,” he orders then releases me.

I ignore the comment.

I ignore it like I do with all of them every single time. Oh, I have to obey. That’s what mafia princesses do.

Obey.

Do their duty.

Put the family first.

Blah, blah, blah.

I’m lucky I’m not married off to some stinky gangster already, but I know it’s coming. Just as Leo was promised to Gianna, I will be matched with someone to marry soon.

I don’t want to marry any of them. I have plans of my own. They just don’t know it yet.

When they figure it out, it’ll be too late.

“I should wake my father,” I say, walking to the side cabinet and lifting the decanter of whisky in offer.

Dante shakes his head.

“No, to both. I don’t want your father or your brother to know I’m here,” he says.

What?

My mouth opens in response. We both know that’s dangerous. He can’t be here without my father’s knowledge.

Even Leo will hit the roof.

He and Dante get along just fine, but with his father dead, things are complicated.

“You know you can’t—”

“One night, Addy,” he says.

“What’s going on?” I ask, resting against the edge of the wood, my brows dipping. “What happened tonight?”

I know he won’t give me all the details. It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. Sometimes not knowing is better.

Dante runs a hand through his hair.

That’s when I really take him in. His black jeans look rough, his shirt is less polished than normal.

“We were busted at my father’s warehouse. Looks like a fed got inside the organization.” He rubs his jaw, and I know there are a million things he’s not telling me.

The men in my world don’t tell the women anything. We are accessories. Assets to trade to form partnerships. The vessel in which the next heir will enter this world.

Nothing more.

I even had my education limited because of my sex. The fact that I wanted one and had a desire to understand business was laughed at.

But I am my father’s daughter.

Everyone underestimates me.

They shouldn’t. One day I will leave this place, and I have a plan to do just that.

“He’s dead,” I say softly when Dante doesn’t reply.

I can see the pain in his eyes, as if whatever happened tonight hits him. He’s now safe inside the walls of my home and it’s crashing down on him.

I don’t usually lower my barriers like this with Dante. It’s way too dangerous. But his father is dead. Even gangsters have a heart.

Generally.

He loved his father. So tonight, I drop the attitude.

“Yes.” Dante nods.

“Where is your mother? Gianna?”

I have no details about what took place and wonder why my family isn’t aware of it yet.

Dante shakes his head and sits on the arm of a chair.

“The FBI is looking for me,” he says, lifting his gaze to me. “I need a place to lie low.”

I walk over to him, tying my gown closed.

“You could’ve done that ten minutes ago.” Dante stares at my now covered breasts, and I shake my head.

Even in the face of his father’s death, he still can’t take his eyes off my body.

As always, I ignore him.

“Dante, you can’t stay here. My father will need to know if you do,” I say, telling him what he already knows.

We both know how this works and I’m surprised he even came here.

It was reckless of him.

He is a wealthy man. He could have gone to a million different places. Yet he came here.

“I’m fully aware of how this fucking works. But I’m asking for your help,” he hisses. “One night. That’s all.”

I drop my head and rub my forehead.

“If he catches us, tell him we’re fucking,” Dante adds.

I gasp. “No.”

Christ, no.

Dante doesn't understand how precarious this time is for me. At any given time, my father could send me off to another family to marry. If he thinks I’m sleeping with Dante, who has made no secret of his desire to marry me, then it would speed up any plans he may have.

I can’t let that happen.

It would completely destroy everything I’ve worked for.

I am leaving and things are set in motion.

The clock is ticking.

“No, no, and no. Look, I’m sorry about your father. I really am. But”—I bite my lip and glance around because I couldn’t live with myself if I threw him out and he was captured or killed—“you can sleep in here or in one of the rooms in the staff wing. My father and Leo never come in here.”

Never is a strong word.

They do. Occasionally.

Dante stands and walks to the side cabinet and pours himself two fingers of whisky. Then tosses it down.

He does it one more time.

Turning back to face me, he runs a hand through his dark glossy hair, then crosses the room and stops in front of me as my body shudders in reaction.

This six-foot-four man is all muscle. He’s broad, solid, and fills the entire room with his presence. His dark eyes hold me in place, and I can see his patience is about to snap.

“Stop trying to intimidate me, Dante Baldassare. I’ve been around gangsters all my life. It won’t work,” I say then swallow completely, fucking up any conviction I just conveyed.

Damn him.

“Take me up to your bedroom, Adelina, or I will rip your fucking nightie off and fuck you right here. Then claim you as my wife.”

There he is.

My sexy badass gangster.

The one who has told me all my life I belong to him. The one I see when I close my eyes at night and touch myself in the privacy of my bedroom.

The one I will never let myself want.