Page 25 of Mafia Princess

“My one requirement is that Maya is to live with me, in my house.” His eyes don’t leave mine, and we are locked in a dance of wills. He appears as though he is daring me to rebut his request.

I finally swallow the lump of bread, nearly choking myself in the process. “I’ll live with him, but I’m not having fucking kids, Papa.” I grip the table in anger, now disgusted that the one man in my life, who’d promised he would look after me, would put me in this position.

“Rimanere zitto,” Papa says calmly, the timbre of his voice vibrating through my shattered soul.

I feel the tears welling inside me, but I don’t cry. I don’t let any fucker see me cry. I so badly want to throw the plate of antipasto at my Papa’s face, but I sit on my hands instead, like the good little Principessa he wants me to be. I just need to bide my time and focus on my revenge. This engagement is merely a little hiccup in the road to redemption.

“I have shit to do.” Mason stands abruptly. He takes the two steps to me and kisses me on top of the head. “Love you, sis. I’m so sorry,” he whispers and strides out of the dining room,

As though the last five minutes haven’t taken place, Papa and Tommaso carry on with their discussions, leaving Milan and me to stare at each other over the plates of food. I chug my drink, needing it more than ever, and wish it was something stronger. I thwack the glass onto the table, making Milan cock an eyebrow.

“I need a bathroom break,” I announce to no one because it seems I’m invisible. Papa and Tommaso don’t even acknowledge I spoke. I push my chair back, grab a piece of salami, and escape the staleness of the dining room.

I head to the powder room near the front entrance and close the door behind me. I lock myself in the toilet and hope they forget about me. Finally, I finish peeing and flush the toilet, watching the swirl of the water to take up some more time before I have to go back to that hell hole. I open the door and standing in the powder room is my dark nemesis.

With his broad shoulders, dark ink creeping out from the neckline of his t-shirt, and the dangerous gleam in his eyes, he looks like every woman’s daydream and every father’s nightmare. He stalks toward me, his size taking up most of the space in here.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I blink up at him, momentarily distracted by the anarchy swirling inside me.

“Don’t pretend to be dumb.” His glare roots me to the spot.

My words stick in my throat.

“Finally lost for words, Principessa?” The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk.

“No fucking way,” I push at his chest. I can feel his muscles tense under my fingertips, and I keep my hands on him longer than necessary.

He reaches up and swipes a rough finger across my lips, smudging my lipstick in the process. I wrench my head away from him. The way my body reacts around him is completely wrong.

His fingers grab my chin, and he jerks me so I’m looking at him again. “Are you going to fight me, Principessa?” The bass of his voice is soaked in cynicism.

“Until the day I sign my life away on that dotted line.” My heart skips in my chest. Whether that’s from anger or excitement, I’m not sure.

He steps forward and I step back until my ass hits the vanity, neither of us taking our eyes away from the other.

“You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”

“I think we should keep the cutesy name-calling for when we’re officially married.”

“I think you’re stalling the inevitable,” he replies, his smirk turning into something sinister.

“And what’s that?” I push him for an answer I know all too well. I am stalling because the way I am feeling with him this close to me is a complete and utter betrayal on my part. I am supposed to hate him because of who his father is, yet here I am, confused as fuck with the way my body is reacting to him.

“If your fuck buddy gets a little action, then don’t you think I should too?” He leans in until his lips touch the sensitive part below my ear. “I have eyes everywhere, Maya.” His warm breath sends shivers over my skin, eliciting urges I wish I could control.

I swallow the lump in my throat and don’t answer him. I don’t acknowledge what he just said. Better to be quiet than try to deny with lies.

“Cat got your tongue, Maya?” Milan’s voice comes out all husky. He brushes his stubble across my jaw until his lips hover over mine, barely touching them. Our eyes are locked on each other.

“I just know when not to speak in order not to incriminate myself, Milan.”

He leans back a little and his gaze drops to my mouth, sending sparks straight between my legs. Fuck.

“Are you okay there, Principessa?” He smirks, the bastard. He’s so much more experienced in this than I am, so he is well aware of the effect he is having on me.

I nod in response.

“Open your legs.” His command is final. His tone has taken on a different level of authority, and it sends all warmth southward.

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