Page 47 of His Ruthless Claim

He breaks away, thumb tracing my lower lip. "Good girl."

The praise shouldn't affect me like this, shouldn't make my skin buzz with electricity. But there's something addictive about being useful to someone like Luca Mantione, about being the only one who gets to see even these small cracks in his perfect control.

The next day is more of the same. I'm careful not to ask questions, not to look too interested.

"The emerald would complement your skin tone beautifully," I say, draping the silk dress across Mrs. Figarello's shoulders. The underboss's wife preens in my three-way mirror.

"Alfonso mentioned Marco's been making waves." She adjusts the neckline. "Always thought that boy had more ambition than sense."

I pin the hem, careful to keep my voice light. "Oh?"

"Mm. Not just there. Tommy saw him meeting with some of Lorenzo's people last week. At that little café on Monroe." She clicks her tongue. "Alfonso's furious - says the boy's playing both sides."

I gather more details as I work, piecing together Marco's movements like a puzzle. When Luca arrives that evening, I wait until we're in his car to share.

"I hear that Nerio's right hand man is meeting with Bueti and Cappalletti enforcers. Three meetings in the past week, all in public places." I cross my legs, the leather seat cool against my skin. "I'm sure it's just because of everything that went down with Jazz, though."

Luca's fingers flex on the wheel, the only sign my intel affects him. He still struggles with words. At a red light, he turns those empty blue eyes on me. The intensity makes my breath catch.

The moment we enter his bedroom, he has me pressed against the wall. One hand grips my hip while the other slides into my hair, tugging until my throat is exposed.

"Such a clever girl," he murmurs against my neck. His teeth graze my pulse point. "Always watching, always listening."

I gasp as he lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist. The controlled violence in his movements sets my blood on fire. This is how he shows emotion - through touch, through claiming.

His kiss is bruising, possessive. I rake my nails down his back, drawing a low growl. He carries me to the bed, laying me out like an offering.

"Tell me everything you learned today." His voice is dark velvet as he slowly unbuttons my blouse. "Every detail."

I arch into his touch, understanding the game. Information is currency, and tonight, I'll make him work for every piece.

I trailmy fingers along Luca's arm as we enter the gallery, admiring how the crisp black suit accentuates his lean muscle. When I asked him to come to Mikayla's art show with me, I was a little surprised he said yes. I know that he's busy and we've never actually been seen out together. But he was all too happy to escort me - and let me dress him.

The space buzzes with conversation and clinking glasses, Mikayla's vibrant paintings drawing clusters of well-dressed patrons. I know that this means a lot to her. She's spent so long scraping by in the coffee shop while she tried to get these showings.

"This is actually nice," I murmur, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing server. "You clean up well for these normal events."

His lips quirk slightly, those ice-blue eyes scanning the room with predatory awareness. "Nothing about tonight is normal."

Jazz waves us over, stunning in a burgundy dress that hugs her curves. Nerio stands possessively close behind her, his gray eyes tracking every movement in the room. The way he watches Jazz reminds me of how Luca watches me - like a predator fixated on its prey.

"Girl, you look incredible." Kendra joins us, gesturing at my black cocktail dress. "And with this fine specimen on your arm..."

I throw my head back and laugh. But as I turn, I catch Elliott across the room, his dark curls falling into his eyes as he studies one of Mikayla's larger pieces. To my surprise, Luca gives him a slight nod of acknowledgment. I know he's Mikayla's friend and that he helped Nerio with something he needed - so he must be mafia, which was a surprise given Mikayla - but that's it. He's never been around us otherwise.

"You know him?" I ask.

"He's useful." Luca's hand settles on my lower back, thumb stroking circles against my spine. "Keeps things running smoothly."

When Luca steps away to take a call, Jazz and Kendra pounce.

"Girl, the way that man looks at you..." Kendra fans herself dramatically. "Like he wants to devour you whole."

Jazz smirks, sipping her champagne. "The few times I've seen him, he's never acted like this. Usually he's just..." She shudders. "Empty. Cold. But with you? There's something there."

"He's still empty and cold," I say, but warmth spreads through my chest. "He's just... selective about who he shows interest in."

"Selective?" Kendra snorts. "Baby, that man is obsessed. The way he touches you, like he's marking his territory? Classic possessive mafia man behavior."

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