Page 8 of Mafia Princess

“He’s not touching me.” I place my hands on his chest and feel his heart beating steadily. One thing I’ve learned about Luca these past few months. Nothing phases him.

“If he knows what’s good for him.”

I poke him in the chest. “Give me my panties.”

He winks at me, the corner of his mouth turning up in a devious smirk before he turns and stalks out of the room.

THREE

Maya

Heart pounding in my chest, I go back to the lobby, feeling like I want to run as far away from here as I can. I slink through the doors to find the stoic figure of my soon-to-be husband waiting for me.

“Clingy much?” I waltz past him and beeline for the bathrooms.

He catches my hand, and although he is gentle in his grip and movements, he is no doubt staking a claim and showing me who he thinks is boss.

“Don’t grab me again.” I pull my hand free. My eyes dart around for any sign of Luca.

Milan holds his hands up in surrender. “Can we just be civil with each other? Is there any part of you, somewhere deep down, which isn’t always on guard and acting like a rabid animal?”

I study him for a moment and wonder whatever the fuck went wrong in his life to make him so sterile. “No.” I hear him exhale in frustration. The little dance of glee I mentally do knowing that I’m pissing him off brings a smile to my face.

His eyes roam over me and take in my appearance, and a look of disappointment flashes for a split second, across his otherwise deadpan face. “We’re wanted in the dining hall.”

“After you, dearest future hubby.” I wink at him hoping to anger him some more.

He glances at me like I’ve grown a second head before he simply turns and stalks back to our seats.

Papa and Mason are deep in conversation as I approach our table.

“Go to the front where the MC is, Maya,” Papa orders without looking up.

Mason nods at me in reassurance. The funny thing with having a twin is that it’s like you can read each other’s minds and know what the other wants before they want it. We often finish the other’s sentences and know when the other is hurting. I trust Mason with my life, and I would die for him if it ever came to that, so I know with his simple nod that I am good to go and do as Papa says.

I feel as though I’m doing a walk of shame as I dodge my way through the seated guests. A wrong step could expose my bare ass and the thought makes me chuckle under my breath. My eyes scan the room for him and lo and behold, there he is, sitting with Enzo and Summer. Only the three of them at their table, most probably because Enzo is being his usual charming self.

I catch Luca’s eyes and he winks at me, patting his suit jacket and letting me know my panties are safe in his inner pocket. I roll my eyes and turn my gaze to Milan.

“Why are we up here?” I pull at the hem of my t-shirt, thanking my lucky stars there’s no stage to stand on.

“Wait and see.” His voice is indifferent, a complete turnaround from our last few encounters.

I blow out a slow breath through my pursed lips and wait as the MC taps the mic to get everyone’s attention.

“A little announcement, so please hush.” The MC waits for the chatter to die down.

My heart drops into my stomach. I knew this fucked up moment was coming, but I didn’t think it would be so officially announced. The fuck is my papa up to and how the hell do I get out of this without blood being spilled.

“Please welcome none other than the Tommaso D’Amico.” The MC holds his hand out to welcome Tommaso to the front of the room.

The crowd whistles and cheers as the mobster makes his way to us. I watch him carefully; his strides are purposeful and the placement of his hands calculated. I know that under his pinstripe suit jacket sits a nice little handgun, ready to fire when needed. A man as despicable and corrupt as Tommaso D’Amico doesn’t roam unarmed. Even here in a room with his closest loyal subjects he needs to be on guard at all times. I would feel sorry for him if I didn’t want to murder him myself.

He approaches me and gives me a quick kiss on each cheek as though we are on good terms. Always the actor. He makes my skin crawl. Tommaso grips his son in a one-armed, tight hug and whispers something in his ear before taking the mic from the MC.

“Good evening, my good friends. Thank you all for attending this ball for a charity close to my heart. I hope your goodwill runs as freely as your pockets are deep.” He pauses to let the crowd clap. “They say a thousand heads must roll to gain power. This, my friends, is not true. You see, young love has flourished between my good friend’s daughter and my son.”

I keep my eyes on the back wall while I try to keep calm and be on my best behavior. I agreed not to act like my usual bitchy self, at least until this charade was over.

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