Page 17 of Sinful Daughter (Dark Mafia Sins 2)

The two men flanking me huff, angry I’ve brought their loved ones into this. They would do the same if they could. The men don’t order a drink and leave to go sit across the bar from my celebration.

There’s a reason I’ve never become attached to anyone. I knew if I were to do this properly, I couldn’t have anyone close to me who could be used to manipulate my actions. It’s for that same reason I waited until I buried my mother. No one has any leverage on me. They have no one to threaten and hold over my head. I’ve made sure of it. I rarely even have one-night stands, not wanting them to get in the crossfire of something they have no control over. I’m the liability. Even Grant and I have an understanding. We’ll protect each other. But in the end, no one will threaten us with one another.

Grabbing my beer, I sit back at my table. Another round of cheers goes around. Everyone looks happy. This was a huge break. The largest arrest this area has ever seen. I should be gloating, like everyone else on my team. Instead, I still feel hollow inside. It’s not enough. I want more. I sit, growing more agitated as the night wears on. My beer no longer tastes good on my tongue.

Arresting soldiers will do nothing. A hundred more will pop up in their place. To do any real justice, the head bosses need to be taken down. Mancini and Rossi need to be put away. The rest will crumble after that.

Aria Rossi owes me, and for my plan to work, I need her. She’s the key to my happiness, promotions, and success. Each day, my window becomes narrower. If Aria is to be useful to me, I need to get to her before she accepts her place in the family. Before she has client/lawyer privileges. Before her father corrupts her.

CHAPTER 12

Grant and Iget out of our cruiser at a downtown park area. There’s word of a drug deal going down near here, and we’re hoping to either bust it or gain someone who can give up information about their supplier. With summer being over, the midday temperatures are more reasonable for wearing a uniform. Trees help shade us as we walk across the grass toward the basketball nets. There’s a game happening, with teens loitering around the court. Immediately, my eyes lock on Aria. My lips snarl at the sight of her. I hate the way I’m pulled toward her. Like I’m every other male around her. I hate that the only woman to trip me up is Aria Rossi. She’s deep in the world I’m fighting against. I want to worship her, kiss every part of her body, when I should be wanting to destroy her.

She’s on a blanket in the grass in what appears to be a study session, with two boys in front of her. I watch as the boys on the court try to catch her attention with each hip check or layup they complete.

It’s the pull she has and the way people like her use their power that has me grinding my molars. She’s here to groom these innocent kids. It’s shit like this that has me constantly preaching about why I became a cop. The mafia grooms their men starting at a young age, making it ever so much harder to infiltrate them. I have to force myself to believe this. It can’t be that she honestly is that kind and caring. I shake my head in annoyance at the illusion she portrays. Frustration fills me, that I’ve allowed her to probe her way into me. It’s easier to blame her for everything rather than deal with the truth.

People see her with her long skirts and big eyes and think she’s innocent. The way she shyly smiles has people eating out of her palm. Even now, the way she intently reads from the textbook opened in front of her and the way she plays with her pencil, placing it into her ponytail and pulling it out again. It’s all to bring attention to her when she pretends to be helping them study. I try to ignore her soft curves, her heart shaped lips that wrap around the pencil she’s using.

I have to remind myself, Aria is tutoring on this side of town because she pretends to have a kind heart. Nope, she’s giving live interviews on who makes the cut in her world. These boys will grow into men who will never make it past soldier, because their heritage isn’t Italian.

Giving the court another glance, I see a few who look like they might be Italian, but the majority I’d say don’t have family ties to them at all.

We circle around before Grant and I split up. I can feel Aria’s eyes on me as I walk around. She isn’t alone but gets up to walk in my direction. Going behind a public restroom, I wonder if she’ll follow. A small forest is behind, secluding the area from the front. I smile to myself when I can still feel her eyes on me. When she rounds the corner, her steps are confident with a feminine sway of her hips that I can’t stop watching.

“Mr. Fox.” Her face is lit up with a sassy grin on her kissable lips. “Are we going to talk about what happened last time we saw each other?” she asks me.

The night of her brother’s wedding reception comes barreling back at me. The way she looked at me while I arrested Marco. Our connection is still here, swirling around us, thick and menacing. “You mean, how you owe me?”

She laughs arrogantly. “I owe you nothing.”

Damn, she is sexy with her confidence.

Dramatically, I look her up and down. “I like you.” The space between us closes. Her gray eyes dilate, turning dark. My hands rest on her hips, her cleavage doing short little spurts of rising and falling. “Marco Caldera should never have his filthy hands on you.”

“What makes you think I should give you that privilege?” Her lips pucker as she adorably attempts to glare at me. She holds a challenge deep within her irises. My dick jumps to life with her closeness and the fact that she thinks she can pretend she doesn’t feel this too. Our chemistry is impossible to ignore. It wraps around me like a noose. I inhale deeply, and it makes it worse. Her honey scent clings to me, daring me to make a move.

“I’m the one standing with you while he’s in jail.”

“I don’t date cops.” She copies my motion of looking up and down, trying to look unimpressed. It stirs up a challenge that I haven’t ever felt. Controlling my emotions, I try to play our connection off as nothing.

“I’m flattered by the way you think, but spoiled mafia princesses are hardly my thing.”

“And yet, here you stand, unable to take your hands off me.” Her eyes dance with excitement.

I lean in, my lips grazing her earlobe. “All you need to do is say the word,” I challenge.

She’s a temptress. She has me mesmerized as she bites down on her bottom lip, and I pull her close until she’s flush against me. I need to kiss her, to get her out of my system. This is clearly an infatuation that will sizzle out as soon as I have a sample.

The tension swirling around us builds as I stare down, contemplating kissing her. The urge gnaws at me, pulling us closer little by little. I can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and still at no point has she told me to let her go.

“Theo?” Her tone is soft with a hint of pleading.

It’s my undoing as I slam my lips onto hers. They demand control and attention. Without hesitation, she opens for me, and my tongue slips in to massage hers. I muffle a delicate moan of hers as I growl into her. I feel possessed. I need more. One sample will not cut it.

Her hands grip my biceps, and all I can think about is lifting her up and fucking her mercilessly.

Sensing my dark thoughts, she pulls away, leaving us both breathless.

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