Page 8 of Merciless Attraction

“Who else would take a shot at us?” I ask him.

“I don’t know, Gemma. I broke Frankie’s nose, and I doubt Verducci would follow us all the way here, wait until we come outside, and shoot at us five times.”

“That’s it? It was only five?” I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose as I try to recall what happened only a few minutes ago.

“Yeah, just the five. Verducci isn’t sloppy enough to open fire and leave the bullets and shell casings behind. Have you bruised anyone else’s ego lately?” he asks with a slight grin.

While I sense the jest in his question, he has no idea I’ve done far worse than bruise someone’s ego. My heart thumps as memories from the most terrifying night of my life replay in my mind. One shot ringing out through a dark New York City night led to the splash of a body hitting the water.

It so happened Natalie was moving back to the west coast at that time. I went with her. I thought I could get away from this life; a life where dating me was a way to get close to my brother, the newest Don of the Marzano crime family. Betrayal, heartbreak, and murder chased me away from my posh New York City life.

San Francisco’s not a complete demotion of my lifestyle, but I wanted a fresh start. I’d done, and gotten away with, so much that I couldn’t bear to step back into the life of a mafia princess. But here I am.

Drugged, attacked, shot at, and now engaged to a guy who never wanted to be with me in the first place.

“No, I’ve been on my best behavior recently. I want to thank you for everything you did tonight. Let me cook you something,” I tell him, wanting to get off any subject that might trigger my past to become the topic of discussion.

“Right now? If you’re hungry, we can grab something on the way to my place.”

“When your wife-to-be offers to cook for you, you should let her cook for you,” I tell him with a smirk. He may not want to be my fiancé, but with everything that’s happened tonight, I need to find some joy in this shit show.

“How’d you come up with that story anyway?” he asks.

“It’s how my parents got together. My mom was being hassled by some jerk at a restaurant. She was waitressing. Dad was an enforcer or something for my grandfather. The jerk was a made man for another family. Dad said Ma was his fiancée to stop the asshole from tuning her up, and the rest is history.”

He nods. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty sweet love story. The way they look at each other; it’s like they were meant to be. I’ve always wanted something like that, but falling in love is out of the question for me.”

“Oh?” He raises one delectable eyebrow with the corner of his mouth tilting upward. “No love for you, huh? Aren’t you a bit young to make that decision?”

“So, it’s my age that turns you off. Noted,” I murmur to myself. But I don’t want to dwell on that as I answer his question. “No. Being twenty-three and growing up in New York makes you like thirty everywhere else. Tack on being a part of theMarzano Family,and well ... I’m old enough to know what love gets me.”

“What does love get you?” he asks as we arrive at one of the tallest buildings downtown. We drive into the building’s underground parking garage.

“Love gets me into trouble. It cost me something I’ll never get back, but when I think of that time, it wasn’t love. I just wanted it to be.”

“How old were you when you fell out of love with love?” He pulls the car into a parking spot, holding a finger for me to be patient. He gets out, scans the surroundings, and walks around to open the door for me.

“I was eighteen,” I admit, stepping out of the car.

I’m not as dizzy as before. Thankfully, the drugs in my system seem to be wearing off. “I was feeling a bit down, rejected, and the first guy who made me laugh got a date out of me. One date led to us dating for over a year, but then he showed me who he truly was. He was just using me to get in with Bash.”

“I’m sorry, Gemma.”

“What about you, Antonio? What’s being in love look like for you? Who’s the lucky woman we have to sit down and tell we’re in a fake relationship to stop angry gangsters from trying to kill you?”

He laughs. “You know better than that, Gemma. You’ve always been a straight shooter. You can just ask me if I’m seeing someone. Don’t assume.”

“So, are you seeing someone, Antonio?”

“No.”

“Why not?” I ask him as we step onto the elevator.

There are eighteen floors in this high rise and Antonio has to press his thumb onto a tiny fingerprint scanner beside his floor, PH. Of course he lives in the penthouse. He has to be rich, handsome, a doctor, and my savior.

His voice cuts into my thoughts, forcing me to peer into those olive-green eyes as he says, “Because the only woman I’m interested in thinks she turns me off.”

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