Page 22 of The Empress
His damp hair is sleeked back, and there’s no trace of the blood left on his skin. The black dress shirt he’s wearing with the sleeves rolled up and matching suit pants complement his powerful body way too much.
When I just stare at him with my heart beating in my throat, he asks, “Did you hear me?”
Wrapping my arms around my middle, I give him a shaky nod.
Leo disappears from the open doorway, and I have no choice but to reluctantly follow him.
The mansion is so big that our footsteps echo, and Leo’s iciness makes the air feel colder than it is. I rub my palms up and down my arms, my eyes glued to the gun tucked into the back of his pants.
When we enter the kitchen, my gaze instantly falls on a block of knives. The second I think about grabbing one, I let go of the idea because I don’t have the guts to kill someone. Besides, God only knows what Leo will do to my family if I attack him.
Feeling utterly out of place, I watch as he gathers ingredients. He starts to prepare dinner, the sight of him doing something so mundane making him look less threatening.
Then he grabs a knife, and he looks dangerous again.
Without sparing me a glance, he orders, “Tell me about yourself.”
My heartbeat speeds up again, and I say the only thing I can think of. “I’m in Italy for vacation. I have a life back home. Letmy mom and me go.” My chin quivers. “We won’t tell anyone about today.”
He cuts up a bunch of mushrooms before his eyes flick to me. Using the knife, he points at a stool by the island, indicating for me to sit down while he asks, “What do you think happened today?”
A frown forms on my forehead as I cautiously move to the other side of the island so the slab of marble is between us.
Leo proceeds to chop ham into little squares, and I swallow hard on the lump in my throat. “Something happened between you, my uncle, and Luciano.”
Only once he’s done with all the chopping does he set down the knife and brace his hands on the marble top. It causes the muscles in his forearms to tighten and his veins to appear beneath his skin.
Stop noticing how hot the man is! He’s dangerous.
I glance around the large kitchen to keep from staring at him. The cupboards are white with glass panels, allowing me to see where the cups, glasses, and plates are stored. All the appliances look state-of-the-art.
My father sold cars for a living, and my mother was a stay-at-home Mom. We weren’t well off, but we always had food, and the bills were paid.
It’s clear Leo is filthy rich, and it only makes him even more intimidating.
“Do you know who I am?” he asks.
Shaking my head, I look at him again.
“Leo Toscano,” he murmurs, his tone cool and deep like the depths of the dark ocean. “I’m the head of the mafia.”
My lips part on a shocked gasp, and as his words sink in, the fear I’ve been feeling spirals into something unrecognizable.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
When I just blink at him, my mouth hanging open like a gaping fish, he tilts his head. “By the look of surprise on your face, I’m going to assume you weren’t lying when you said you didn’t know who I am.”
The only thing I know about the mafia is that it’s similar to cartels, drug dealers, and gangs. They’re all criminals and on the wrong side of the law.
I’m trembling severely, unable to form a coherent word to reply.
Leo continues preparing the meal by pulling a pot out of the drawer next to the stove. He pours water into it and adds a bit of olive oil before setting it down on the stove.
He glances at me as he opens a packet of fettuccine. “I’m thirty-three, and I actually never intended to get married.”
I press my hand to my churning stomach, my tongue darting out to wet my dry lips. “Then why force me to marry you?”
His gaze locks on me again, and he stares at me for so long I’m a complete nervous wreck by the time he answers, “There’s just something about you I can’t ignore.”
