Page 5 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

“We’re on a lunch date right now, Claire.” The way he said my name, slow and deliberate, sent a shiver through me.

I rolled my eyes, desperate to change the subject. “Do you live in the city?”

Beyond the walls, I could hear the beautiful chaos of my staff preparing for the upcoming fashion show.

“No, Jersey.”

“I thought I heard a Jersey accent, but I figured maybe you’d moved to New York.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, Claire, I live thirty minutes away. Fifteen by helicopter.”

“Helicopter?” My brows bunched together.

“You’re rich?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond.

My suspicions flared. “Which agency sent you today? I should’ve asked upfront. Sometimes they plant people to steal my designs.”

“Which agencies?” he questioned.

I shook my head. “All of them.”

“Don’t worry,” he said smoothly. “I’ll handle it. They won’t do it again.”

The way he said it, so calm and matter-of-fact, sent a chill through me.

He said it like he was going to threaten their lives. But he made it sound like it was just another day.

“Are you a problem solver, too?” I asked cautiously.

He stabbed the lettuce and avocado drenched in Italian dressing with his fork and brought it to his lips. “You could say that.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes before he dropped another bomb. “Since you don’t date, I’ll swing by next Wednesday around seven. We’ll go to a nice Italian place and talk.”

“That sounds like a date, Vino.”

“It’s not. It’s just two people eating their meals at the same table. A little conversation thrown in from time to time.,” he said with a smirk.

There was a knock on the wall. “Claire?” Porsha called out.

“Yes, come in,” I replied.

“Your usual lunch is ready.” Her long legs carried her towards me as she held out a brown paper bag.

She mouthed, “He is fine as hell.”

I tried not to smile as I took the bag from her. “Thank you, Porsha.”

A grin spread across her mahogany cheeks. “You’re welcome, boss.”

Porsha turned on her clunky heels and quickly left the room.

Vino took the bag from my hand. “Let’s see what you were having for lunch.”

“Hey, Vino, give it back.”

“Does my competition send you lunch often?” he asked.

My heart raced in my chest. “Yes, every day.”

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