Page 20 of Mated into the Mob

I’m bored.

I banged my palm on my brow. I’d been kidnapped and should’ve been looking for a way out or huddled in the corner weeping, my life flashing before me. Boredom came with privilege, and I had none.

Unless he took pity on me and cut off a finger and said enough! But the bit about me not going back to my old life? That stuck in my head. Maybe kidnappees were allowed to live, but in return, they were forced to work for the mob.

Was that how Antonio got caught up in mob business? But the boss… Flint… damn, I used his name. That made him flesh and blood with feelings, wants, and needs and urges. Just like me.

But we weren’t alike, and we had nothing in common other than we were both human.

Flint said Antonio’s folks, my grandparents, worked for his grandfather.

“Ahhhh!” My voice echoed around the space, becoming softer with each round.

My mind was whirring, and I avoided the feeling from earlier that he’d wanted me. And I ignored how my body reacted the moment Emilio had thrown me onto the floor. But it wasn’t just my cock. His scent, voice, those dark eyes, even that damn snake tat were rolled into an intoxicating package.

But he killed and cheated for a living, his organization on the other side of the law, a line I couldn’t cross. I gulped. Maybe I was attracted to him because it was in my blood. No, I refused to believe that sins-of-the-father nonsense.

As I puzzled over my future—assuming I had one—the door at the top of the stairs opened, and I leaped off the couch and backed away, hitting the kitchen counter. I bit back a yelp because my bruised body was aching from being banged up by Emilio.

He thundered down the stairs, dressed as he was earlier, but he’d removed his jacket. Another set of footsteps followed, someone smaller dressed in black. My heart constricted and one hand felt for a knife on the draining board. The cutlery in the basement was plastic, so me grabbing a knife was a bust.

It wasn’t Emilio, because I was familiar with how his body swayed as he strode through the club each night.

Flint stood at the bottom of the stairs, eyeing me, wary, as if testing whether I was going to yell at him again. But it was his companion that caught my attention. An older man with the same dark eyes who strode toward me.

“Who the fuck are you?” I aimed the plastic fork at his chest.

He said over his shoulder, “He’s no pushover. I like that.” He examined my face and tut-tutted before brushing past and opening the fridge. “I’m Rudy, and you need proper food.”

Compared to the fast food I ate while at college, what was in the fridge was a huge step up.

“Did you eat breakfast?” the older man asked.

This was the weirdest kidnapping I’d ever been involved with. I’d been placed in luxury accommodation with great food, air-conditioning, and a nice bathroom, and now Rudy, whoever he was, might provide room service.

“Cereal.”

Rudy turned up his nose, and the resemblance tohimwas undeniable. “I’ll make you something.”

Flint growled, a sound that came from deep inside him. It was terrifying but with a sliver of sexy. I did not just say my kidnapper, the mafia boss of all bosses, was sexy. Nope. My brain had lost the plot and needed reconfiguring. Maybe a reboot. It reminded me of Arnie’s old computer. Maybe my motherboard needed replacing.

“But not here.”

“Everything you need to make brunch or breakfast or whatever is here, Dad.”

The older man sighed and looked straight at me. “My son inherited this beautiful house where he was born when his father died, and yet he spends his nights in the basement.”

“What?” I swiveled to face him. “This is yourfather,and the basement is your what? Your bolt hole? Your secret pad? Your den? Is this where you squirrel away your concubines? Harem?” I couldn’t come up with the right word, but those would do for now.

Had he been down here last night? I was a light sleeper, and thanks to Emilio, the pain he’d inflicted refused to allow me a comfortable night. Not that I could sleep easy, being kidnapped and all, so I was certain I’d been alone.

“My father is offering to cook you a meal,” he said through gritted teeth. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered what it would feel like to rub my hands over his stubble. Goosebumps erupted on my skin, but I was stillwearing the robe so they were hidden. No human could pick up my body’s response.

“Upstairs.” His dad pointed to the ceiling. He took my arm with a smile, and I allowed him to lead me up the stairs, but I couldn’t resist glancing back athimas I limped. Flint was staring at me, twisting the signet ring on his left hand, the snake tat slithering under the shirt cuff.

I shivered not just because this man held my life in his hands, but also… My thoughts trailed away. I was confused, the terror I was experiencing bringing up possible scenarios for why I didn’t hate him as a way to save myself.

But I was going into the main house. There’d be a landline, maybe, wifi, windows and doors that opened. A father who possibly could be coerced into… taking me for a walk. He was pretty small, about my height. I could overpower him. I had to make nice with the dad. He was my ticket out of this mess.

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