Page 31 of My Mafia Queen

I tap him on the back.

“She might be the one,” I say before moving away.

Just in time.

Carmina Leto enters the room and glances around, searching for me. All eyes go to her while I freeze and stare at her, thunderstruck.

* * *

DAMASO

I don’t knowwhat it is about her. Her hair draped over her back and shoulders, bouncing every time she moves?

Her eyes burning like embers?

Her parted lips?

Her body in that skintight dress?

The sparkling necklace sitting lazily across her sculpted collarbones?

She has an air of confidence about her that she’s garnered since she left.

I move my eyes over her body.

How come no one has touched this woman? It still boggles my mind.

How come I haven’t touched her and remained faithful to my principles is still a miracle.

She came back––the weakest link, if I’ve ever seen one––and I trusted her.

I trusted my gut and made an exception for her.

And I regret nothing.

She’s here now, and I feel like I’ve won the jackpot.

I might need to forget about my principles.

I have fire in my blood that needs to be fed.

I have hunger in my body that needs to be quenched.

She is a tease––now more than before––and no other woman has taken up residence in my mind the way she has.

I look at her as she moves her eyes around the tables where people indulge in delicious food, delight themselves with colorful drinks, listen to music, and have a good time.

I wait for her to approach me, and when her eyes lock mine, and she smiles only for me, I know we’ve reached the point of no return.

There is no way she won’t be mine.

No matter what we’re saying to each other or like to believe, our fate is sealed.

She came back to me.

I move toward her while she inches closer, my hands warm in anticipation.

I can’t wait to cup her hips and taste this woman.

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