Page 8 of The Don

We eat in silence and, far from feeling awkward, it’s an amiable silence that once again surprises me.

I don’t do domesticity. I never have and yet to any onlooker passing by, this is one big fucking advert for it.

CHAPTER5

CHASTITY

Iwent in hard to deliver a powerful message. To banish the elephant from the room because if this man thinks I’m a weak woman lusting after his dick, he’s got another thing coming. I’ve met men like him who believe their cock leaks gold and I did it to put him off. Men like that don’t appreciate a dominant woman. They prefer a weak, nervous virgin to massage their ego. To conquer and plunder before they congratulate themselves on being a big man and this approach usually has them backing off quicker than an Olympic sprinter.

It’s how I keep control. How I guard my heart because I have no room for a man in my life — ever.

My work is done because Leonardo Ortega backed off quicker than most, which I’m more than happy about. Now he knows the score, I doubt he’ll try anything, and if he does it’s probably just to mess with my mind. He will hold out for as long as possible, which is fine by me because I am here to do a job and that is the only important thing in my life right now.

I’m not saying I would be averse to a bit of fun with this hardened criminal. He’s certainly easy on the eye and his body appears carved from stone, along with his personality.

If he asks, I may indulge my weakness for a night of fun, but only ifIsay so.

We finish the delicious meal in silence and as he pushes back his plate, I gather my cutlery together like any polite guest would do and stare at him while savoring the decadent wine that was served with the meal.

He fixes me with his deadly gaze and far from fearing him, it merely turns me on, which is an inconvenient reaction but one I can deal with.

“You have everything you need set up in one of the offices. I want that will signed and sealed by the end of the day.”

“I can do that if you have the relevant articles I need.”

I stare at him with my own brand of darkness, and he nods, pushing back from the table and standing, glaring at me with disinterest.

His consigliere enters the room and Leo snaps, “Follow Ryan. He will make sure everything is to your liking.”

I nod and stand, casting my eyes across his loyal servant and smiling appreciatively to annoy the arrogant bastard who thinks he’s calling the shots.

“It will be my pleasure.” I purr, batting my lashes at an increasingly uncomfortable servant who shifts a little nervously as Leo snaps, “Remember, Miss. Blake. It must pass the closest scrutiny.”

“Of course.” I shrug, confident in my own talents at forgery. I learned from the master, after all. It’s what I do. Sharpen my skills to become the best and I am. It’s why Leonardo came to me, and I wonder how much he knows of my past. Probably all of it but I’m doubtful he’s aware of the simmering volcano inside me waiting to erupt when it comes to the life of Carlos Matasso, and like most molten lava it consumes everyone who stands in its path.

I work all afternoon. Ruby keeps me supplied with coffee and sustenance, but I barely register her at all. It’s always the same when I’m working. I switch off from daily life and blank out those around me until the job is done.

By the time the clock strikes ten, I have been working for close to seven hours and as I lean back and stretch my limbs, I glance at the document that would fool just about everyone.

I look around me and note the sterile space of a room that is obviously used for different purposes. It has no homey touches and I wonder what kind of business has been conducted here in the past.

I stand and head to the window and look out on the deepening darkness, noting the stars that twinkle against the inkiest sky, my heart aching as I remember my parents. I always relate them to the stars because that is my fondest memory.

We used to sit on the porch in the rocking chairs and gaze at the stars, planning our lives, wishing on them our hopes and dreams and discussing the possibilities of life outside this one.

I am so engrossed in the past I don’t hear the door open and jump when a low voice scratches against my ear.

“I could have killed you and you wouldn’t have known.”

“Then do it.” I say with disinterest, angry at myself for leaving my defenses wide open for attack.

A hand lifts my hair from my neck, and I feel the soft brush of lips against my skin and, for some reason, my heart beats like a drum inside me.

“What are you doing?” I hiss softly and am rewarded with a hand sliding around my waist and spinning me around.

I stare into two deep pools of danger and seduction and for some reason my breath hitches.

“Have you finished?” He enquires, with a soft press against my lips, and I nod, “I have.”

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