Conquered by the Mafia Boss

His gray eyes are as dark as his face, and just as cold. His indifference strikes me hard, and I don’t know why I care. I don’t care. Whatever, I’m not here to make him smitten with me. I’m here to hopefully get him to agree to marry me.

“So why the fuck are we here, huh? You got rid of that girl I was going to bring home.”

I roll my eyes at his narrowed ones. I decide that Tony looks even sexier with a scowl on his face. “Please, don’t act like you don’t want me. You were all over me as soon as you recognized me in the bar.”

“I don’t like being manipulated, sweetheart. Just tell me what you want.”

The tiny flames of the candles flicker in his unrelenting stare.

Fine, I’ll tell him.

I lick my dry lips and open my mouth, unable to ask him.

Hey, guy I barely know. Wanna marry me for money?

The cutlery on the table rattles as I bump my fist against the wood, suddenly overcome with a fit of giggles. I cover my mouth as he stares back at me in bemusement, my shoulders shaking.

He swirls his wineglass. “You seem a bit stressed.” Then he leans in closer. “Maybe I should have just taken you to my place to fuck the pain away.”

The laughter breaks off and my skin blazes under his penetrating stare. “Yeah, maybe you should have.”

“This is about your ex, isn’t it?”

A wary look hardens his face.

“Yeah, but it’s not what you think.”

I still can’t fucking tell him.

“He showed up to my apartment right after I got home yesterday. We-we fought.”

He says nothing, but his eyes blaze.

“The cops showed up just in time, but he’ll be out soon. And then he’ll come after me.”

My face still smarts where he hit me, made worse by the alcohol flushing my skin. Tony looks back at me, his face stony. “How did you end up with a guy like that?”

Now it’s my turn to shrug.

“Dating opportunities were pretty thin on the ground. Daddy scared the guys away and he didn’t approve of a lot of them. He liked Rafael, though.”

Tony would know all about the traitorous New York boss, who was killed by his own crew for mob justice.

He leans back into his chair and swallows hard. His gaze flicks toward mine and away. “I’m sorry about your dad. I know what it’s like to lose a father.”

Somehow I see that. Something deep stirs inside his eyes: the jagged pain of losing someone too young, or some long-ago horror.

“You’re the first person who’s said that to me. Isn’t that-isn’t that funny?”

It’s not, really, but he makes a valiant attempt at a smile. His hand slides over the rough wooden table and seizes my hand, squeezing it.

Why is he being so nice to me? This wasn’t what I expected at all. A lump rises in my throat and my hand trembles inside his.

I bite my lip hard as images of the poorly attended funeral run through my mind, everyone’s lack of sympathy, my mother, crying. It buries me.

“You should be glad I even came,” Rafael said, his mouth curled. “Your father was a coward-”

“Don’t you-don’t you dare talk about my father like that!”

It hurt me to hear those poisonous accusations from my boyfriend. He was supposed to protect me, and instead he tortured me.

“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want.” Then his voice dropped to a whisper as his fingers cruelly pinched my waist.

Tony looks at me, at a total loss for words. I want to talk to him about it. I want to talk to someone. I want to tell him how horrible it has been. Everything had to be locked tight inside, because I wasn’t allowed to grieve for my worthless, rat-bastard father.

He was always my daddy.

Bury that shit, damn it. Just be like a fucking stone.

I look into his impassive gaze as I freeze over my facial muscles. “Sorry, this is not what I-I don’t want to bring you down.”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you want from me?”

My cheeks burn when I realize how transparent I must be, but he doesn’t look angry. I open my mouth to tell him, and my guts clench.

God, this is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

“What makes you think that I want something?”

An unpleasant chill wafts from his eyes. “Cut the bullshit already and ask.”

I hate that I have to look across the table into his heavy eyes and ask him for something. The men back home wouldn’t have lifted a finger for me because I no longer mattered to them. The moment my dad became a traitor, I stopped existing. And they call it a family. What fucking family?

“Well, you’re right. I did want to ask you something.”

“Tell me.” Oh my fucking God, this is going to be a disaster.

My face feels as though I have a sunburn, and he laughs at my discomfort.

“Jesus, what the hell is it? Just tell me.”

Yeah, just tell him.

He’s going to laugh in my face.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.