Page 92 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

“I do have loyalty to you, Claire. You’re about to become the Donna of the Romano Crime family. I will protect you with my life. But don’t ask us to keep life changing information from the boss.”

I folded my arms. “I’m not marrying him.”

He chuckled. “We both know you are. There’s only one way out of the mafia.”

Bile rose in my throat.

“Yeah, I know. Your boss told me in graphic detail how he should blow my brains out.”

Amadeo’s mouth dropped open, though he quickly recovered. “Get back in bed. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“Thanks Amadeo.”

I walked to the fridge to grab my grapes before padding into the bedroom. After remembering Vino’s harsh words about blowing my brains out deep down, I knew he didn’t mean he’d do it. Just that was what was supposed to happen. My fingers curled around his t-shirt once more. I longed to call him and thank him for the flowers, but I dreaded the inevitable question about how I could abort our baby. A single tear slipped down my cheek as I mourned the death of my new relationship.

The next morning, I marched into the design studio ready to work. Porsha had righted every wrong since our heart to heart: fabric swatches neatly organized, samples on schedule. The office hummed with R&B under soft overhead lights. My heart swelled—I’d built this from nothing: given unknown designers a shot, put fresh faces on runways. I was making my own trends.

“Jasmine, I said no,” Renato barked at the door.

I tried peeking around my bodyguard. He had a body like a wide receiver.

“Renato, what’s the matter?” I asked as I inched closer to the door.

“It’s nothing, Claire. Jasmine was just leaving.”

The brunette fiddled with a curl and smiled up at him. “I came to discuss Vino,” she said with a grin.

Renato muttered a curse under his breath. “I’ll call the boss,” he said.

“Don’t,” I instructed.

“Come in, Jasmine,” I said with a warm smile.

How did she know Vino? Had she been to our house while I was away? I had told him I wouldn’t marry him. If he was seeing someone else, I would have preferred he did so at a hotel.

“This is quite the place you have here,” she remarked as she glanced around.

“We can talk in my office,” I suggested, gesturing for her to follow me.

She sniffed my hair. What was that about?

“You’re not his usual type,” she commented.

I raised an eyebrow and pointed to the chair across from my desk. She sat down.

“Porsha,” I called out.

She hurried over. “Yes, Claire?”

“Jasmine, would you like a glass of sweet tea?”

“Yes, please.”

I held up two fingers, and Porsha dashed off to the kitchen.

“Let’s start over, Jasmine. How do you know about me and Vino? No one is supposed to know.”

She tossed her shiny brown hair over one shoulder. Her makeup looked professionally done. She must have been about five foot nine. She was stunning.

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