Page 45 of Mafia Boss's Fake Fiancée

“Not much.”

I place my hand on his cheek. “You call this not much?”

He shrugs. “I’ve been through worse.”

I groan. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. What happened? How did he get to you?”

“He must’ve snuck into the garage with the guests. He’s one guy, so my men couldn’t have seen him. Ismaele disappeared somewhere, and Cesare showed up. He said he wanted to talk, so I went with him. I figured that because of what happened with us, I needed to get him on our good side. Explain things to him.”

“But instead he kidnapped you and punched you in the face.”

“Yeah, he threatened your life, but then he pretended to offer me a deal. If I signed over everything to him after my death—supposedly to protect you—he’d spare you. He sort of gave me a chance to escape, but I’d never put you at risk.”

I gape at him. “He didwhat? Wait, you offered your life and everything in exchange for me?”

I stare at him in shock as he nods.

“But why?”

“There was no other option. Even if I escaped, I wouldn’t get to you in time. Cesare is just... different. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t kill you, and if anything happened to you, especially because of me, I...” His gaze is trained on mine.

“We’re no longer enemies, are we?” I say softly.

“No, we’re not.”

“But we’re not friends either. We’re...”

“More than that.” His lips hover over mine.

“When I thought there was nothing I could do to help you, I felt so helpless. Trapped. Lost. I don’t want to feel like that ever again. I don’t want to be away from you,” I say.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, and I wanted to ask you something. Do you want to be my girlfriend? My family is clearly on board, and Cesare is now okay with it too. There’s nothing stopping us from being together... if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” I breathe. “I want to keep getting to know you. Discover new things with you.”

His mouth finds its way to mine again.

Salvatore, my boyfriend.

If someone had told me this would happen, I would’ve flipped out on them. But now it doesn’t sound crazy at all. Actually, it sounds perfect.

“Am I hurting you?” I whisper as we stumble toward the bed.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I can feel the heat spreading through me, but the last thing I want is to cause him any pain.

“Of course I am. I missed you.”

“And you’re not tired?” I don’t know how long it’s been since we slept, but I’m not feeling sleepy at all.

I just want to feel him inside me. Make sure he’s really okay. I want some wonderful sensations after hours of terror. We need to forget all that, even if it’s just for an hour or two. We need some comfort.

“No,” he says. “You?”

I shake my head.

I need my fix.

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