Page 92 of Craving Danger

She shoots me a glare before typing out a message.

Samantha: You made me believe you were good!!! You made me believe I was safe with you. I freaking told you everything. Do you have any idea how shitty that feels? I gave you my trust, and you used it to play me for a fool. What kind of person does that?

MMM: The kind that doesn’t want to lose you. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. You can still trust me.

Samantha: GO. TO. HELL.

She spins around again and hightails it out of my office. She yanks the door shut, the sound reverberating through the room.

MMM: How am I supposed to do that when I’ve found an angel?

She doesn’t reply and I type another message.

MMM: You can be angry at me for the rest of our lives as long as you give me a chance to show you I can make you happy.

Samantha: How do you plan on making me happy when our entire relationship is built on lies?

MMM: I only omitted I’m your boss, so you would get comfortable with me. Everything else has been the truth.

My regular phone vibrates, and a frown forms on my forehead when I see she’s texting me on that number.

Samantha: I have questions. How could you be so nice to me at night, but during the day, you treated me like shit? How can you claim to love me, but you threatened me when I wanted to resign?

Franco: 1. You were making progress, and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin it, so I kept faking to be an asshole at the office. 2. I’ve never threatened you.

Samantha: If your job as a mob boss doesn’t work out, you should go into showbiz. You’re one hell of an actor.

Samantha: BTW…You’re a freaking mafia boss!!!!

The burner phone vibrates, and I switch devices again.

Samantha: I don’t know what to do. I miss my boyfriend.

MMM: I’m right here, baby.

Samantha: No, you’re not. The man I fell for never existed.

I suck in a deep breath, and feeling frustrated as fuck, I get up from my chair and stalk out of the office.

Samantha’s head snaps up, and her eyes widen on me.

I grab hold of her chair and spin it so she’s facing me. Grabbing hold of the armrests, I lean over her until we’re face-to-face.

My voice is a low rumble. “I exist.”

Her green irises darken with anger. “Yeah, sure. The asshole version of you is standing right in front of me.

I lean another inch closer. “So is the man who told you he fucking loves you.”

“Telling and showing are two different things, Mr. Vitale. You told me many things while you showed me how shitty you treat the people you claim to love.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

I frame Samantha’s face, and keeping her in place, I slam my lips against hers. She gasps, and it gives me entrance to her mouth.

My tongue sweeps over hers, and my soul groans from how good she tastes.

Samantha grabs hold of my forearms, and instead of trying to shove me away, her mouth wars with mine for control.

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