Page 15 of Ruthless Boss

“Are you okay?” Lucia asks me, squaring her shoulders. She has a baby blanket on her shoulder that she removes and folds neatly into a small square. “You seem worried.”

I could ask her the same thing. Is she worried after what she heard at dinner? “Just thinking about what kind of life AJ will have.” I didn’t commit to her mother when I had the chance. How can I ever commit to anyone? I can’t. I don’t want it, anyway—marriage brings more liability. I’m focused on protecting AJ and ensuring her safety in our uncommon world. I have no time or energy to do the same for anyone else.

She flashes me an easy smile. “She’s very loved. She’ll be just fine.”

“Were you very loved? Is that how you can tell?”

She opens a drawer and slides the blanket inside. “My mom loved me. She was great. I never met my dad, and sadly, my mom’s man-picker never worked well.”

“That’s my dad. But in his case, he chooses the bad ones because he knows he can’t handle the right person. He’s not interested or invested,” I confess.

Dad married his second wife, hoping to have a home and bring that mother figure into our lives. But, of course, he cheated on her. After that, he was at least honest with himself and whored his way around Chicago—and stopped meeting women who would make good partners in anything other than the bedroom.

At first, I felt cheated because he didn’t want to reinvest in making a family. But as maturity came, I understood he made the right decision. It wasn’t in him to be in a committed relationship, so he didn’t fake it because that was what was expected of him. He’s a dick, but an honest dick, much like me.

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “That’s his deal, I guess. My mom just believed men too much.”

“Is that what happened to you? You told me once you moved to Chicago after a bad breakup.” The idea of a man out there breaking her heart makes me want to strangle him. What sane man would hurt a caring person like Lucia? She’s funny and smart, and I’ve seen glimpses of her heart. The way she talks to AJ, how she lulls her to sleep with sweet songs.

“Yes. I did.”

I feel like cutting off her ex’s limbs one by one. Slowly, until all blood drains from him. “He’s a bastard.”

“I agree.” She smiles.

“Is that why you hate men?” I ask, referring to what she told me in her work interview.

She nods. “I’m a bad picker too. Sometimes, it’s not worth the trouble.”

Relationships aren’t worth it. Besides Massimo’s, I’ve never seen one positive example. My mom acted happy in her marriage, but that didn’t mean she was. She was content because back then, that’s what she believed marriage was supposed to be, especially if your husband was a mafia boss.

I can’t try to convince Lucia that there are good men out there—I’m certainly not one of them. “You don’t need men, anyway. With your toys.”

“I guess I don’t.” She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. Then, she catches my stare, and we share a moment that lingers. The energy shifts in the room, and it’s like we’re both having dirty thoughts.

Since I came on her tits, it’s become harder and harder to pretend it didn’t happen. To pretend I don’t want to fuck her. My common sense makes a last-minute plea to me, but I ignore it and move closer to her. Each step fills me with more sexual purpose, my heart pumping in my chest.

It’s not about what’s right and wrong anymore. It’s about what needs to happen so we can move on—simple as that.

“Men can be handy, if you know what I mean… and do things that sex toys can’t,” I say, focusing on her lips.

“The right sex toy can do a lot,” she says, then playfully licks her lips. A silent but obvious invitation for more. My cock twitches in my pants.

“The right man can do a lot,” I whisper, dipping my head. This is her last chance if she wants to stop it. She can move away, but she doesn’t. She gets on her tiptoes, so now her lips are even closer to mine, and we can feel each other’s breaths when we speak.

She touches my chest, her fingers carefully splayed over my shirt, and a wild heat sifts through the fabric. “What if the right man turns out to be the wrong one again?”

“Then you use them… for whatever you may need.”

“That’s good advice. I may take it.”

I fuse my lips to hers, ready to show her exactly what I mean.

9

Gia

Dante captures my lips with his and pulls me into a tight embrace. A wall of heat and strength surrounds me for a moment, and I can barely breathe. Then, he moves his lips on mine, coaxing his tongue into my mouth—and breathing becomes a near-impossible task.

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