Page 3 of Shackled By the Mafia Boss

I twist my head to the sound and my stomach flips when I find the owner of the sweet, soft voice that has seeped into my head like a harmony. A petite beauty stands only a few feet away from me. There’s a tinge of green in her big eyes and they’re absolutely stunning.

In fact, everything about her is stunning.

Jet-black hair falls over the swell of her breasts, cascading all the way down to her hips. She’s wearing a black leather jacket and pants, but it’s nothing like the ones the other two are wearing.

Hers outline every curve of her body. Damn, she’s hot.

Lifting a hand to sweep that incredible fall of hair over her shoulder, she ambles over to me, licking her plump, pink lips. Every movement from this beautiful woman sends heat to prickle at my neck and rush straight to my cock.

It’s worse when she stops in front of me and I inhale the scent of her fresh citrus perfume. I want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and sniff her before I pounce on her like a starved monster.

“And you are?” I ask, pretending I’m not thinking of all the ways I could strip the clothes off her.

“Detective Jane Sullivan,” she says, flashing her ID at me.

“Marcus Romano.” I stretch my hand out for a handshake and she looks hesitant but shakes it anyway. Her hands are small in mine, very soft. It’s hard to believe she’s a detective when shelooks and feels so delicate. “What murder are we talking about, Detective Sullivan?”

“Can we talk somewhere more private?”

I smile. I’d love nothing more than to be inprivatewith her. “This way.” I lead her to my office. It’s really simple in here, mostly because I spend little of my time in Hell’s Kitchen.

There’s a large mahogany desk in a corner of the room and a mesh chair behind it. Two swivel chairs are positioned across the desk and Jane sits on one of them while I lean on the desk. I’m trying to be as close to her as I can.

Despite her cold and fierce demeanor, she’s tugging at the hem of her jacket and swallowing nervously. I think she’s anxious in my presence, as if she knows I’m not the type of man she should be comfortable around.

It’s for the best, because I wouldn’t think twice before I…Shit, man. Hold it together.“Would you like a drink?”

Her throat moves as she swallows again. “No. Thanks for offering though.” She pulls a photo from her pocket. “This man—Flavio Ricci, was found dead in an apartment building ten blocks from here last night. He was shot in the head. What’s surprising is that an unregisteredM9was found beside his dead body.”

I cock my head, interest piqued. “I’m sorry I can’t be of any help to you. I’m not aware of any shooting around here last night.”

She tucks the photo back in her pocket, crosses her arms and stares at me intently. “We received a tip from an unknow caller that you deal in the illegal arms trade, smuggling ammunitions and narcotics into the country and using your legal businesses to cover it up.”

I run a hand over my hair, a smirk forming on my lips. I’ve got to give it to her, she’s bold, fearless. But I can’t deny this irritates me. I want to teach her a lesson or two about sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong, but not in the traditional way.

Hurting women is not my thing. Having her moan into a pillow though? That is something I could aim for. “Do you have any evidence?”

“Not yet, but…”

“Then it’s settled. Meet me when you have something tangible to hang me with. I’m also curious as to who this anonymous tipster is.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “You don’t seem to understand how serious this is.”

“Trust me, Detective, I understand. I just don’t care about mere hearsay enough to react.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “And in what way would you react?”

I lean towards her, casting a shadow over her pale skin. “I could react in ways that would leave your pretty head messed up for quite a while. It’s in your best interest if you don’t know, Detective.”

“It will be in your best interest not to underestimate me, Mr. Romano.” Her eyes are pinned on me, and there is fire in them. A fierceness I haven’t witnessed in any other woman I’ve ever been around. She’s challenging me, and without a care in the world. “If you look beyond my fragile exterior, you’ll find a woman who has witnessed and solved crimes beyond your imagination. I won’t sit back and watch a man like you talk down to me.”

“A man like me?” My brows knit and I’m even more curious than I was minutes ago. “What type of man am I?”

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t back down. “You grew up rich so you think you own the world.”

I snort. She’s hilarious. “That would be my brother, and he doesn’tthinkhe owns the world. He owns it.”

“And you?”

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