Conquered by the Mafia Boss

The roar of motorcycles drowns out my voice. There’s still a chance-I can still fucking get him.

“Let me the fuck go!”

Their arms finally loosen their hold on me, and I shove Sal’s chest. I want to smash his face to a pulp.

“You should have let me kill that piece of shit. He has to go.”

Of that, I’m certain.

Sal squeezes my shoulder. “You just told him that you knocked up his daughter. Let him cool off.”

“No one calls me a fucking guinea. I should rip out his tongue and feed it to the pigs-piece of shit!”

“I hear you, but he’s the president of Les Diables.”

Yes, he is.

He’s also my fiancée’s father.

I try to let those facts sink into my head, even though I want nothing more than to climb into my Audi and run him over. It would be satisfying to see that prick launch from his stupid bike, and the police would probably thank me for it.

“This is my opinion, but I think you should give him another chance. I don’t think his people want a war, either.”

That’s what’ll happen if I make a move on their president. A lot of people will die, and there’s still the matter of the airport heist. It can’t be derailed, no matter what.

I park my car and slam the door shut. When I get into the elevator, I pace around the small box, hating my reflection, because it reminds me so much of my own father. Then I jam the keys in my apartment and wrench open the door, slamming it so hard that the walls shake.

I see her hanging against the doorframe, her arms crossed. She pushes off slightly and makes a beeline toward me, her long hair swaying behind her shoulders. Dark makeup makes her eyes look mischievous, but I’m in no mood for her shit right now.

“So how’d it go?”

I don’t say anything. I’m not the fucking type to open up about my goddamn feelings. I’d rather just bury it. Forget about it.

“That bad, eh?”

An apologetic smile lifts the corners of her mouth and some of the steam cools off my chest.

“You look really pissed.” She bites her lip.NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

“I am fucking pissed,” I finally snap.

“What did he say?”

I march past her, torn between the need to rant and rave, and what my mother would say if she knew I was badmouthing my fiancée’s father in front of her.

She won’t leave me alone. Maya’s footsteps echo behind me, even as I enter my study. The one place she shouldn’t fucking follow me.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“You don’t want to hear me trash your father, so please just leave me the fuck alone.”

I’m appalled at my tone. It’s not her fault. She doesn’t deserve this.

Maya steps inside my office, bold as brass. Her hands glide over my shoulders and slide my jacket from my arms. What the hell is she doing?

“Johnny, there’s nothing you could say about my dad that I haven’t thought of already.”

“He’s a miserable prick. He insulted me. Called me a fucking dago.”

Her brown eyes slide to mine. “He calls you that all the time behind your back.”

My heart pounds against my chest. I hear my blood roaring in my head.

She bites her lip again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

I sigh as she loosens my tie and unbuttons my shirt. Her hands soothe me. It’s nice to feel them flattening over my muscles. Hell, just looking at her makes me feel better.

I want to stew. I want to go after that son of a bitch, but Maya’s fucking hands are all over me. Her right hand slides down my waist and anchors over my cock. She gives it a squeeze.

And then I wonder why the fuck I’m pissed when I have a smoking-hot fiancée, standing right in front of me, fondling me. Just begging for it. She gropes me through the fabric and a low growl escapes my throat.

“That first night with you.”

“What about it?”

She’s making waves of blood pound through my dick. “The way you just stripped off your clothes in front of me to distract me.” My muscles stretch into a smile for the first time. “That’s what it feels like you’re doing right now.”

“Is it working?”

You know damn well it’s working. It made me come inside her without protection, which knocked her up.

I don’t regret it.

And I don’t regret what I’m about to do to her either.

She hisses in pain as I grasp a handful of her hair and pull.

“I don’t want to fuck you while I’m angry-”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

But it’s already too fucking late. I grab the neckline of her t-shirt with both hands and rip.

“Johnny!”