Page 2 of Claimed By Him

“Too right,” I answered, equally unenthused.

“He just wants you to be a part of this…” Mia said, ever the peacemaker between us.

Although, she was possibly the most rebellious one of all of us—she’d actually killed men at Antonio’s side before she fell pregnant, breaking a list of mafia rules in the process. She was the trailblazer for us girls, and I loved that, but it still wasn’t what I wanted for my life. I hated the sight and smell of blood, and I just couldn’t understand why things had to be dealt with in such violent ways.

“You’re always ditching family events.” Mia pouted.

“Yeah,” I said, “because this—” I waved my finger at all the business associates and Moretti soldiers with their prissy wives and girlfriends. “Is not my family.”

“Fair,” Mia said. “I’m pretty relieved to be pregnant. I have my excuse to just sit here in peace and not have to make small talk about finger foods and designer clothing.”

We all chuckled at her honesty.

“I hear you, sister.” Olivia stretched her legs out in front of her. “Huxley isn’t anything like Antonio, in terms of being so uptight about the rules, but there are still so many events and dinners; and I always have to be there with him, chatting with the businesspeople, and entertaining their wives.” Huxley was Antonio’s underboss, as well as our brother, so he had just as much responsibility as a leader among men.

Viola and I exchanged glances.

“You see?” I started. “We’re not weighed down by marriage to dons or underbosses, so we get to ditch these stupid events without being noticed,” I said, shrugging and lifting my hand to the side where Viola high-fived me without looking up.

“Talk about underbosses…” Mia said, changing the topic of conversation, “Tony’s just arrived.” She jerked her chin in the direction of Olivia and Viola’s brother. I rolled my eyes before looking his way.

He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair cut very short at the sides, and a small, black earring in his right ear. We’d known each other our entire lives since our families were so intertwined in business and the community. As a young girl, I watched him morph from a quiet, obedient boy into the strong, successful man he was today. But no matter how much he grew up, he was still the grumpy-ass controlling type of man that I just couldn’t stand.

He strolled across the lawn with a hand buried in the pocket of his black, slim-cut pants while pulling on a cigarette, flicking the ash at his side. He wore a black polo T-shirt tucked into his belt and left open at the neck. The material stretched over his shoulders and chest, exposing his hard muscled body.

It also left most of his tattoos exposed. The endless, intricate designs swirled from his hands, up his arms, across his entire torso, and climbed his neck, right up to his jawline. If anyone here looked as menacing and thug-like as the mafia truly was, it would be him.

Fuck. He was so hot it pissed me off.

“Tony!” Olivia called out, catching his attention. He looked over at us, took one final pull of his smoke, then headed our way while killing the stub in an ashtray on a random table.

“Ladies,” he greeted us. His voice showed no emotion whatsoever. That was Tony for you—a hard-ass, unreadable, and grave guy. He never joked or laughed, he was all business, all day and night.

“Hey bro,” Olivia smiled up at him, “you didn’t come early with Papà and Viola?”

Olivia actually lived on the Moretti estate with Huxley in a villa at the back end of the property. But the other Romanos came from their estate, which was a good five miles away.

“No.” He shook his head and looked in the direction of Enzo, their father, talking to Antonio. “I had other business to handle before coming through.”

“Of course you did,” I mumbled under my breath, not looking up to see if he heard that. Though, the way Mia’s eyes widened at me said they all did.

“Well, I’m glad you made it!” Olivia grinned. “Will you please tell him to stop with the pastries?” Olivia asked innocently, making us girls look over at their father. We saw Enzo resting a plate of pastries on his belly and burst into laughter. “He’s got that cholesterol issue, you know.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah.” His voice was grumpy, and he gave me a quick, shrewd look before he walked off in that direction. As much as his hard-ass attitude annoyed me, my self-righteous attitude pissed him off equally as much. I watched him leave, physically fighting the urge to stick my tongue out at his back.

Crap, I had to admit that his ass was way better than the young waiter’s.

But Christ! I was too young for this shit. I should have been fucking around at this point in my life—flirting with the cute, young waiter, giving him my number, and possibly meeting up to have sex with him in the near future. That’s what girls my age were doing; that’s what my friends did.

Except here I was, staring at a fully grown man’s ass—a man six years older than me who’d tortured and killed people. He dealt with dangerous characters out in the darkened alleyways of Downtown Manhattan on a daily basis. He was a man who would soon be one of the three most important and influential men in the city.

So, I couldn’t help but wonder who the fuck would even want the silly little waiter boy with Tony walking around? I didn’t want to want him, but every time I saw him, I found myself writhing in my seat, pressing my thighs together, and ripping my eyes away from his body angrily.

Also, there was the fact that I was still a virgin.

Virgins don’t sleep with such big, ripped, experienced men their first time. No, virgins are supposed to find a nice, sweet guy to guide them through it. But I didn’t need that. I knew what to do—I’d watched quite a bit of porn before and found my own pleasures alone in my room, with my long, pink, silicone dildo.

The issue wasn’t a lack of interested guys, either.

---