Page 2 of Her Mafia Enforcer

“What thefuckis this?” Bianca demanded, her voice sharp and biting. She scrambled out from under me, grabbing the sheet to cover herself as she sat up. Her glare bounced between me and Lina, disbelief quickly morphing into disgust.

“Bianca,” I started, but she cut me off with a bitter laugh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, shaking her head. “You didn’t say you were fucking babysitting this weekend!” Her words were a hiss, her anger palpable—but my focus wasn’t on her tantrum as she grabbed her things.

Lina’s expression hardened at the words, her chin lifting in defiance. She could get as angry as she wanted, that’s exactly what this fucking was. I was babysitting her. That’s what Dante asked me to fucking do, not picture his daughter underneath me while I fucked another woman.

“Is that why you wanted me to shut up?” she snarled, eyes flashing. “Next time you call me, make sure there’s no one else here…Actually, you know what? Just don’t,” Bianca sneered, throwing the sheet aside as she slipped off the bed. Snatching her dress off the floor, she glared at me, an accusation in her eyes. I ignored it. She couldn’t fucking know, and we’d broken things off long before Lina started fucking with my head. “God, you’re still such a fucking mess, Adrian.”

“Bianca,” I warned, my voice low, but she just shoved her feet into her heels, her hair a wild mess as she turned back to me.

“You shouldn’t be spying on your elders,” she said, her eyes narrowing on Lina. “Didn’t your father ever teach you how to fucking knock?”

My temper flared, and I snapped out in a voice that not even I recognized right then, “Get out, Bianca.”

“Fine!” she shouted, and the door slammed shut behind her, leaving the room suffocatingly quiet.

“What are you doing in my room, Lina?” I said, my voice rough, my chest heaving. “You know you can’t just barge in.”

“I needed something.” She laughed, bitter and mocking. “You never minded before.”

Her words cut deep, sharper than any knife. I’d never minded before because normally, I knew better than to have someone over while she was here, so it wasn’t like she was walking into anything. I scrubbed my jaw, aggravated by her and Bianca and the tension that refused to leave me.

“You weren’t using a condom,” she said, her eyes lingering on my cock. It hardened under her gaze, and I slammed my eyes shut, a curse on my lips as I grabbed a pillow. It didn’t block out the sound of her bare feet padding against my floor. “Not very smart of you, Adrian. Bianca doesn’t seem like she’d make a good mother for your children.”

My chest fucking ached, my mind flicking to an image of Lina with a rounded belly. Never. That was never fucking happening.

“For fuck’s sake, Lina,” I growled, my voice tight, raw. She had no fucking clue how little control I had right then. “You’re nineteen, you shouldn’t even be thinking about sex!”

“Bullshit,” she shot back, her eyes blazing. “Plenty of nineteen-year-olds have sex, Adrian. I’ve seen a dick before.”

I didnotneed to fucking know that. In two strides, I was in front of her, my hand gripping her chin. Her skin was warm, her pulse racing under my fingertips.

“Don’t talk about that when you’re with me,” I hissed, my voice low and dangerous. “You’re toofucking young, you don’t even know what you’re playing with.”

“Don’t I?” she challenged, her breath brushing against my lips.

God help me, she was too close. Too tempting. Too fucking everything.

“Get out of my room, Lina.” I slipped past her, holding open the door. “I’m not talking again.”

I needed more fucking rules for her and me. Lina fucking Morano was off-limits. Point fucking blank.

Chapter 1

Lina

The dim light of the mirror flickered, casting a ghostly glow over my reflection. I stood in Adrian’s penthouse bathroom, the sleek marble surfaces and dark wood fixtures muddied by my makeup. Adrian was going to be pissed when he saw it.

A smirk curled on my lips in the mirror.Petty?Perhaps.

The sound of the tap running was loud in the quiet bathroom, but it barely masked the thoughts that kept playing over and over in my mind—the images.Of him, his tattooed arms holding him overher.Bianca fucking Salvatore. The Mafia’s favorite whore. Okay, that was probably a bit mean, but she was definitely Adrian’s favorite whore.

My lips wobbled a bit, and I sniffed, staring up at the ceiling. I would not fucking cry. I’d just spent two hours on this makeup. I was not going to cry about it—but I could hear the smack of their hips in my head. I could see him driving his cock into her.

I brushed a line of crimson lipstick across my lips, my movements precise and deliberate. Each stroke, every breath, was a reminder of the control I once had and how swiftly he had stripped it from me.

The ache was sharp, relentless. Even now, with the sting of betrayal fresh in my veins, my body betrayed me. The memory of Adrian—his sweat-soaked skin, his guttural moans—made my skin flush and my pulse quicken. Yet, there was more than anger. There was something darker, something colder beneath the surface.

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