Page 1 of Lord of Little Italy

Chapter 1

Tony

I check my watch for the third time in five minutes, the expensive timepiece a stark contrast to the rundown street I'm standing on. Where the hell is she? This gym better not be one of those trendy, overpriced hellholes with kale smoothies and yoga mats. I've got better things to do than wait around all day for some mafia princess who thinks she can play with the big boys.

The text from Isabella Esposito came out of nowhere last night, interrupting my usual evening routine of a stiff drink and paperwork. "Meet me at my private gym tomorrow, 9 AM sharp. Wear something you can move in." Who does she think she is, ordering me around like that?

But then I remember the conversation I had with Dominic before he left for his honeymoon. "Tony, I need you to look out for Isabella while I'm gone. She's smart, capable, but she's never run things on her own before. Just... keep an eye on her, alright?"

I owed Dominic. We'd been through hell and back together, and if babysitting his little sister for a few weeks was what heneeded, then that's what I'd do. So here I am, like an idiot, waiting outside a nondescript building in the heart of Little Italy.

My territory. My rules. Usually.

I scan the street, more out of habit than any real concern. A couple of early morning joggers pass by, giving me a wide berth. They know who I am, even if they pretend not to. In Little Italy, everyone knows Anthony Rivera, the man they call the Lord. It's a ridiculous nickname, but it serves its purpose. Fear keeps order, and order keeps business running smoothly.

I'm about to leave, my patience wearing thin, when the door finally opens. A stunning brunette steps out, all curves and confidence. Her dark hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she's wearing form-fitting workout clothes that leave little to the imagination.

"Tony? I'm Isabella. Come on in." Her voice is smoother than I expected, with just a hint of a rasp that sends an unexpected shiver down my spine.

I follow her inside, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. It's not what I expected. No fancy equipment, just mats on the floor and some basic weights in the corner. The place smells of sweat and leather, familiar scents that remind me of my boxing days before I climbed the ranks of the family.

"What's this about, Isabella? I don't have time for-"

My words are cut short as she spins around, her leg sweeping towards my head in a high kick. I duck just in time, feeling the whoosh of air above me. Adrenaline surges through my body, my muscles tensing for a fight.

"What the fu-" I start, but she's already coming at me again, this time with a series of quick jabs.

I block them, more out of instinct than anything else. She's good. Really good. Each movement is precise, calculated. This isn't some self-defense class bullshit. She's been trained, and trained well.

"Come on, Tony," she taunts, dancing away from me on the balls of her feet. Her eyes are bright with challenge, a smirk playing on her lips. "Show me what the Lord of Little Italy's got."

A grin spreads across my face before I can stop it. It's been a long time since anyone's dared to challenge me like this. I shrug off my jacket, tossing it aside. The familiar weight of my shoulder holster is gone – I'd left my piece in the car, not expecting any trouble. Rookie mistake.

"Alright, princess. You asked for it."

We circle each other, trading blows and blocks. She's fast, but I'm stronger. I manage to grab her arm, thinking I've got her, but she uses my momentum against me, flipping me over her hip.

I land hard on the mat, the impact knocking the wind out of me. But I've been in tougher spots than this. As she moves in, probably thinking she's won, I sweep her legs out from under her. She falls, and I roll, pinning her beneath me.

We're both panting, our faces inches apart. Her dark eyes are blazing with something that looks a lot like triumph, despite her position. I become acutely aware of every point where our bodies are touching. The soft curves of her body underneath my hard frame, I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine.

"Not bad," I manage to say, trying to ignore the way my heart is racing. From the fight, obviously. Nothing else.

"You're not so bad yourself," she replies, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. This close, I can see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, the light sheen of sweat on her skin.

I should get up. I should step away and remember why I'm here. Business. Family. Obligation. But for a moment, I can't move. I'm caught in her gaze, feeling something I haven't felt in years. A spark. A challenge. A thrill.

Slowly, I push myself up and offer her a hand. She takes it, her grip firm, and I pull her to her feet. We stand there, too close, neither of us letting go.

"So," I say, finally breaking the silence. "This is how you start all your business meetings?"

Isabella laughs, a sound that does funny things to my insides. "Only the important ones," she says with a wink. "Now, how about we talk business over some coffee? I know a place."

As I follow her out of the gym, I realize I'm in trouble. Big trouble. Because Isabella Esposito is nothing like I expected, and everything I never knew I wanted.

Chapter 2

Isabella

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