Page 1 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don

Chapter One

Kate

Elio slipped up once and told me that he liked me best when I looked like I’d just been fucked. I grabbed onto this information with both hands.

I check my reflection in the mirror one last time. I feel like I’ve nailed the look, but I’m hoping that my fiancé will agree.

I brought out the gold in my caramel-colored eyes with carefully applied eye makeup and I let my wavy hair fall down loose over my shoulders. Just the right amount of 'mussed up'.

I’ve been the promised bride to Elio La Rosa practically since the day I was born. Elio is the oldest son of one of the most powerful families in the US and I’m the eldest daughter of one of the most influential families in Mexico.

Our marriage was planned for us when we were infants to help shore up the family bonds and trade alliances that make our parents rich.

For me, this was never much of a hardship. I was always eager to please my parents and happy to help the family business in any way that I could.

It also didn’t hurt that I had been naively and completely in love with Elio since we were kids. Elio was handsome, cocksure, impossible to impress, and I loved every arrogant bone in his body with blind adoration.

Elio, for his part, was not as eager to marry me.

He liked sowing his wild oats and had told his parents over and over when we were younger that he was not going to agree to marry a “stupid girl” like me.

However, as we blossomed into young adults and I outgrew my awkward teenage years, he warmed up to the idea of marrying me. I was never quite sure if he was dating me out of obligation or true desire, but I didn’t much care.

Elio was as unattainable as a god among mere mortals and I was grateful for any moment I got to spend in his exciting embrace.

We had been officially dating for a little over a year now and I had begun to feel certain of his affection for me. Marrying him felt inevitable to me now. I regarded our marriage as something that was as predictable as the sun rising and setting each day.

I would relocate to the US. I would manage his social engagements and bear his children. He would bring in wealth and we would spend it together on the kinds of fabulous vacations and luxury items that I had always been used to throughout my spoiled, privileged life.

I glance at myself one more time, then spray a tiny bit of perfume into the air, letting the scent fall down over my body. Now I’m ready for anything that the night is going to hold for me.

“There you are,” a deep male voice said from the doorway.

I turn to see Elio lounging negligently against the doorframe. His sleek, dark hair is swept back from his proud forehead, and his eyes that are so dark brown that they appear black are looking at me with frank appreciation.

I sashay toward him with a little smile on my face, hoping for a compliment. It’s not like Elio to give compliments to anyone, least of all me, his arranged bride. But every once in a while, he does bestow me with one.

“You smell nice,” he says to me by way of complimenting my appearance and I preen under his gaze.

He reaches out to tangle his hand in the mass of wavy hair tumbling down over my shoulders, twining his fingers into it before giving it a sharp yank to bring my face closer to his. I cry out a little in discomfort but feel a flare of heat spike through my body.

I’m fairly certain that the primary reason that Elio has become more excited about my company lately is that he has realized that I like being treated this way.

Pain and pleasure walk side by side for me, and I have welcomed every harsh bit of treatment that he has thrown my way.

A kiss without pain is almost boring to me, and Elio knows it.

“You look like someone already had his fun with you,” he whispers in my ear, before drawing my ear lobe into his mouth and sucking on it. He nips it between his teeth, and I feel myself growing wet.

Maybe we won’t end up going out on our date after all.

“There’s only you,” I say softly to him, meeting his gaze with a steady look. It’s true too.

I have never loved anyone the way that I love Elio. Against all caution, against all wisdom, I am irrevocably in love with the frightening man standing before me.

His eyes slip from mine to fasten on my mouth. He smiles dangerously, his expression feral, before claiming my lips with crushing force.

My back is pressed against the doorframe, the wood biting into it painfully as Elio holds my body roughly against his, his slim fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing.

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