Page 10 of Wanted Twins with the Mafia Boss

I furrow my brow and start toward him. It’s weird with all his guards watching us, and the dress comes to just above my knees.

“Closer,” Matteo says when I stop.

I move forward, finding myself face-to-face with him. What does he want from me? He pulls something out of the pocket of his pants.

A lipstick?

“Don’t move.” He presses the bright red lipstick to my lips.

My frown deepens.

“Perfect,” he says when he’s done.

What the fuck is wrong with him? What is this?

“Now smile.”

I want to bare my teeth at him, and I would havedone it, but if I piss him off, my babies’ lives are in danger. Somehow, I don’t think I’m the key part of his plan. He’s only using me because he knows it will hurt Adriano.

I force my lips into a smile. Matteo steps away and motions to one of the men, who lifts a camera and points it at me.

Is that how Matteo plans to prove to Adriano that he has me and that I’m still alive? But why all the theatrics? The dress? The lipstick?

The guy keeps snapping photos of me as if this is some kind of twisted photo shoot.

“Now I want some with us together.” Matteo strides toward me and winds his arm around my waist, pressing himself close to me.

I flinch and fight the urge to shove him away.

“Smile!” he commands.

The camera guy shakes his head a moment later.

Matteo turns to me, his face serious. “You’re not looking happy enough. Try harder, Chiara.”

Maybe it’s him, and not me, but he doesn’t think about that.

“Smile!”

“Maybe it would be more genuine if you let me out of the room.” I don’t want to stay completely quiet.

“Not going to happen. Let’s get on the bed.” He yanks me with him, and we end up lying on the bed.

The camera keeps clicking as Matteo pulls me to him. I push myself up, but he just grabs my hips and I end up on top of him.

“Kiss me,” he says, his eyes on mine.

“No!” There’s no way I’m kissing him.

“Fine, then pretend like you’re about to do it.”

“What?”

He tugs me forward anyway, and my hair falls down, shielding my face. Before I have a chance to react, he sits up with me still in his arms. Our faces are way too close.

But he’s distracted, and my hands are already pressed against his chest. I lower them to feel for a weapon. If I can get my hands on something, I could use it to force him to let me go. With a knife or a gun pointed at his face, I don’t think he’d let his men risk trying to shoot me.

But the corners of his lips lift up.

---