Page 105 of The Don's Forbidden Obsession

My father sighed, his expression resigned. "I hope you're right. I hope Luca can leave that world behind," he replied, his voice laced tinged with a hint of caution. “Because it’s not that easy.”

But before we could delve any further into it, I thought of something.

I looked at my father. "And Dad, don't even think about trying to back out of the truce," I cautioned, my voice firm. “Dimitri — his brother — is taking over, so it’s the same family whether Luca is involved or not, and the truce stands.”

He nodded, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "I won't, Anna. I told you, your word is everything. I made my decision, and I'll honor it, as long as you really do want to marry this asshole.”

As we walked away from the prison, my arm looped through his, I couldn't help but wonder if I could knock down the wall between us.

“Want to grab some ice cream?” I asked, smiling.

“Race you to the cab!” he called out, sprinting toward the cab.

* * *

As I watched Luca,the enigmatic mobster who had captured my heart, a whirlwind of emotions swirled within me. Confusion, uncertainty, and even a hint of fear danced alongside an attraction that defied all reason.

The man had kidnapped me, and somehow, I wanted him.

The man had killed people for years — and yet I was perfectly unguarded and trusting of him.

It made no sense.

I questioned my sanity at times, wondering if this connection between us was simply Stockholm syndrome, a psychological trick.

But I knew better the longer I looked at him.

“How’d it go with your old man?” he asked, glancing over his new reading glasses as he held a tablet in his palms.

I smirked. “It was just fine, Mr. Clark Kent.”

He laughed audibly, shaking his head.

“Stop.”

I watched a blush creep up on his cheek.

I had just made Mr. Mean Mobster — Don of the Bonannos — one of the oldest and most successful mobs in New York City — blush.

There was something deeper, something inexplicable, that drew me to Luca. Something about his soul.

He wasn’t a bad man at all.

It was more than his rugged charm or the danger that surrounded him that entranced me. It was the glimpses of vulnerability, the cracks in his armor that revealed a real and tender soul beneath the hardened exterior.

I could tell the mob life wasn’t what he would have chosen.

Now, the only problem was figuring out what he wanted to do.

“How’s the job hunt going?” I asked.

The man was loaded.

He didn’t have to have a job.

But he wanted one.

“I’m surprised I can’t just apply to be a CEO anywhere,” he joked. “It’s pretty lame.”

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