Page 48 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

I pushed down my anger. I’d fuck this man’s brains out over the weekend. Why not get some extra orgasms out of it? Then somehow, I’d escape afterwards.

His cologne curled under my nose and slid up my skirt, tapping my pussy. Vino was making it impossible to keep my hands off him.

I slid my hand into his suit jacket, and my jaw dropped when my fingers felt a gun holster and Glock beneath it.

Drawing my hand back, I met his gaze. “I don’t know you at all.”

“Claire, you will. We’ll use this weekend to get to know each other,” he confirmed.

“You want to get to know each other, fine. Hopefully, this story will help you understand why I will never settle down.”

I blew out a breath. “When I was in high school, I dated a boy who was sweet. My friends envied me and called him the perfect boyfriend. When we went to college, our campuses were only about a half-hour apart, so we met up frequently. Then, out of the blue, he began to act differently. He became irritable and withdrew from me.I couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong.”

A rumble sounded in Vino’s chest. He was getting upset.

His fists curled on his thighs.

“I’ll skip right to the part where my world was turned upside down.” I blinked a couple of times, then continued.

“My boyfriend had bodyguards like you do. I was told his father was a powerful businessman.” I shook my head.

“I’d been in a committed relationship with this man for years. I thought I knew him. In our last year of college, he told me he had to move to Russia and wanted me to move with him. I told him I couldn’t. During sex, he lost control and choked me, his anger palpable and terrifying.”

Vino looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel.

“One night, I went to his condo to confront him because I hadn’t heard from him. He had company. A woman. She was naked. My life turned pitch black dark.”

I told Vino how my ex had forced me to snort lines of coke, making me watch as he fucked another woman right before my eyes, then forcing me to fuck him afterward. I ignored the anger simmering in Vino’s gaze as I continued.

“I found out that Ivan Sokolov was with the Russian Bratva. Can you believe that?” I closed my eyes briefly.

“He tells me he’s obsessed with me and that even though he has a fiancée, he has to be with me. He said their marriage would be nothing more than a family arrangement. He planned to haul me off to Russia against my will and make me his mistress. The next morning, his fiancée kidnapped and tortured me. The other woman Ivan had sex with had been brought to the warehouse, too. She killed her right before my eyes. I just knew she’d kill me next. Ivan tried talking her down. She shot me. If Ivan hadn’t intervened…” I tugged at my hair in disbelief.

“I wanted nothing to do with him. Ivan ordered his men to drag me back to my dorm. I fled with a swollen face and a bandaged arm. Thank God for my friend Gia in Italy; she gave me a new identity and helped me transfer to New York University.” I threw my hands up in exasperation.

“I told you earlier I couldn’t protect you. Little did I know I’d have nothing to worry about. But now, Polina, the bitch who is Ivan’s wife has found me. It’s only a matter of time before Ivan comes for me.”

“Stop the car,” Vino barked, his tone laced with an unyielding ferocity that sent a surge of panic racing through my veins. My heart hammered out a desperate staccato as I wondered if he was about to put me out?

Xavier pulled over, and in a heartbeat, Vino leapt out. He lifted his head to the night sky and roared, “Fuck!” The sound reverberated in my ears, matching the frantic pounding in my chest.

Stepping out of the vehicle, I murmured, “Vino, I should go. I can get an Uber.”

But his command was immediate and unyielding. “Come here.”

“You’re scaring me,” I murmured, the tremor in my voice betraying my fear.

His piercing, sorrowful blue eyes locked with mine. “Now, Claire,” he growled.

Dazed by the lingering haze of intoxication, I stumbled toward him. His large, calloused palms cradling my face filled me with an unexpected sense of safety.

“You will watch me rip his fucking heart out of his chest,” he snarled, his words dripping with a raw intensity that vibrated through the core of my being.

“Men aren’t supposed to harm women and children. It’s not the Italian mafia way, anyway.” His touch sent shivers cascading over me.

“Vino, I can’t let you do that for me,” I managed to say, but he was relentless.

“You’re my fucking woman,” he spat, his claim igniting a fierce, forbidden heat that made every fiber of my skin tingle with desire and terror intertwined. I was his. Why did it feel good knowing that?

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