Page 23 of Mafia King's Surprise Baby

The tone makes me think of an AI trying to grasp the human experience and failing dramatically to compute it.

I give him a strained smile. “I’m not a big fan of red.”

“It’s an expensive bottle.”

I nod. “It is.”

Watching him order the wine gave me a precious look into who he is. He’s having a medium rare filet mignon, and the sommelier recommended a Malbec to go with it. Ardian was adamant on one of the most exclusive Burgundy reds on the card.

It’s so basic, really—red wine with red meats, white wine with more delicate fare like fish. Guess no one ever educated him on the complexities of wine. After nearly five years in France, I’ve acquired myself an education on the topic.

The wine he got? It’s from a recent vintage, even though it comes from a renowneddomainein Bourgogne. Such wines are best with significant aging. It’s not going to taste as good as it shouldso soon after being bottled.

As for me, reds give me the worst hangover, even after just one glass. And I’m having sole meunière. Red wine belongs nowhere near a lemon-butter sauce unless you want a strong metallic aftertaste in your mouth ruining your meal.

It shows me the man he is. No consideration for anyone but himself and his self-importance.

What the hell was my father thinking pairing us together?

Except, we as people don’t exist. It’s an alliance between the Mafia and the Albanians, so neither will step on the other’s toes.

“My apologies, sir,” a waiter says softly.

Ardian turns to him with a glare. “What?”

The waiter bows and extends a bottle of champagne. “Courtesy of the gentleman at the bar, sir.”

I glance at the bottle, my eyes going wide. It’s a BollingerVieilles Vignes Françaises Récolte2012. That’s an exceptional year for their champagnes.

Immediately, I glance at the bar area, regretting my action when my gaze collides with his.

The man I’ve been doing my utmost best to forget, to erase from my existence.

Leo Pellegrini’s dark eyes hold mine, then shift to my fiancé. He holds up his glass of Scotch, gives a curt nod, then the maître d’ is escorting him to the other side of the restaurant.

He’s dining alone then, the wall in the middle of the spacedividing it into one section for couples and small gatherings, the other for single diners preferring a slice of tranquil quietude to enjoy their meals prepared by the Michelin-starred kitchen.

A puff of air leaves my lips when he steps out of sight.

Why does being anywhere near him have to be so magnetic? I all but held it together the other night at Mattia’s when my brother and his wife returned from their honeymoon. I hadn’t known Leo was going to pick them up; I’d never have parked myself at their place making dinner, so eager to see my best friend after three weeks and to make sure she and my brother were good, that the hesitation I picked up from her on their wedding day was just last-minute jitters.

Seeing her wide smile as soon as I stepped out soothed all my concerns, until I realized who was standing near the car with Mattia. Tall, dark, handsome, and absolutely dangerous Leo. He’d worn a slim-fit, short-sleeved button-down shirt I never would’ve thought would look good on his big, brawny body.

But there he was. Utterly hot in tight jeans molding his firm ass and long legs, powerful forearms dusted liberally with dark hairs exposed and seeming to beg my tongue to come discover the sinews between his honed muscles, the slight indents of raised veins just below his skin.

I hadn’t dared look at his face. Doing so would’ve made me lose the plot completely. I hadn’t seen him since the wedding. There’d been no texts, no communication. And just as well. Because I was promised to another—what happened between us could never come to light.

I’d garbled a greeting, then focused on Hana. Bubbly Hana, who glowed like a woman well-loved and seriously well-fucked.Lucky her. Though I cringe whenever I think it’s my brother fucking her. Euww!

I kept it together, doing my utmost best to ignore Leo in the room. Until the moment I walked back in wearing the bikini Hana had bought me.

One look colliding with Leo’s, and it all rushed back, gathered speed, snowballed. I could see it in his dark pupils, the narrowed eyes, the flare of his nostrils, the slashes of color on his high cheekbones. Exactly like he’d looked at me in that bridal suite, right before we consummated our joining. Desire, lust, craving, yearning… They echoed in me, too.

Until the sound of glass smashing tore us both out of our daze. How hard had he been gripping that heavy glass to break it like that? Then again, Leo has big hands, strong and capable. I remember them sinking into the flesh on my hips. The hurt had been so delicious in the moment, though it left me bruised for days afterwards.

Meeting his eyes today, for a second, it took me back to the other day, when he looked at me in a bikini like he was raring to lunge and devour me on the spot.

Until his gaze had shifted to Ardian, and ice had filled them. Cold, burning, lethal.

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