Model for the Mob: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  “I don’t understand.”

  But she wants to, and that’s yet another piece of evidence that she’s going to make the finest mafia queen imaginable. She wants to learn about the business.

  Other women have approached me over the years, but I could always see how little they cared about how I made my money. They only cared that the money was there and that they could have access to it.

  “I’ve made connections with every law enforcement agency in the States. They know I keep the streets clean. They know what I do makes life easier for everybody, especially the under-privileged Franco loves to target.”

  “Like me,” she whispers, with the ghost of a tremble in her voice.

  “He’s lucky I wasn’t there when he picked you up. He would’ve received more than my hand at his throat for the infraction.”

  “Then I’m glad you weren’t there,” she says. “I don’t want you getting locked up, Luca, not now when you’re…”

  “What?” I growl, when she falls silent and turns to face the water, the glittering lights dancing amidst the calm surface.

  “When you’re finally showing me how much I’m worth,” she says, meeting my gaze again with visible effort. “I know that sounds—”

  “No,” I snap.

  “No? No what?”

  “You don’t need to explain why you said what you said. You don’t need to add caveats. You are worth more than the world, and it’s time you accepted that. So don’t tell me it sounds arrogant or conceited or silly or anything other than what it is… the truth. The truth is that you’re worth more than every other person on this planet combined. You, Maria, our family—there’s nothing that will stop me from protecting it all.”

  “Don’t forget Toto.” She giggles with tears shining in her eyes. “I can’t wait for our children to meet that little rascal.”

  “Rascal?” I chuckle. “He normally just curls up in my lap and sleeps.”

  “What? He was a little terror today, in the best possible way. He was running around like a madman, sniffing and swimming.”

  I smirk at the image of the cute-as-hell dog loping around.

  “Never with me. It’s strange. He always prefers to be held and to sleep when I’m around.”

  “It’s because he knows what an amazing father you’re going to make,” she says, squeezing my hands somehow harder until it’s like we could fuse together in a moment of star-blazed need.

  “I hope so,” I say.

  “I know so,” she counters.

  I reach up and brush tears from her cheeks with my thumb.

  “Let’s order some food, Lucy,” I say. “Your tears make me think about our future, about my past, about everything we’re going to build and the future we’re going to make together.”

  “And that’s bad?” she whispers.

  “No, it’s good. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But it makes me want to bring that life closer… it makes me want to claim you, right here, like the animal I am. I’ve been fighting the urge all evening.”

  “I ache for it too,” she murmurs. “But first…”

  “Food,” I say, nodding.

  Even if I hunger for something else, something primal and hot and hungry, something that demands to be fed. I hunger for her body, and for the way, her spirit will blossom as she shakes and quivers for me with euphoric release.

  Soon, I tell the beast inside of me.

  Soon I will claim her.

  She deserves to be treated right first.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lucy

  The waiters bring steaming platters over on the platforms. I felt anxious as I scrolled through Luca’s phone, where the e-menu was, looking at all the delicious meals and then turning my eyes to the salad. I haven’t been to very many restaurants in my life, but whenever I do go I always order something that won’t fill me up.

  I never want to be seen as the curvy girl pigging out.

  But Luca reads me perfectly, as he always seems to be able to do. He read me and growled that I should order whatever the hell I want to eat. That fire came into his eyes, the rage that floods him whenever he thinks I’m doing something not because I want to do, but because I feel like I should because it’s been conditioned into me.

  So I ordered a burger and fries with a milkshake on the side.

  Screw it.

  He finds me beautiful no matter what.

  “Great,” he said, as I passed the phone back. “I’ll take the same.”

  Now the waiter is gone and it’s just us and our food, throwing steamy enticing smells into the air.

  “This looks delicious,” he says, picking up his burger. He makes it look small in his giant paw.

  “It does,” I say, my fingers itching to grab it.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  He takes a massive bite, grinning at me as he chews.

  I giggle. “Is this your way of making sure I don’t feel embarrassed?”

  He nods as he chews, and I pick up my burger and take a bite. Our eyes meet and we laugh as we chew, both of us caught up in the moment, the whirlpool of being together and laughing simply because it feels good.

  I wash it down with my banana milkshake and he does the same with his chocolate one.

  “I can’t believe you went with banana,” he says, with a bantering note in his voice, all fun.

  “I can’t believe you wouldn’t. Banana is a milkshake fit for a goddess, thank you very much.”

  He chuckles. “Then it’s fit just for you. I won’t deny that. But chocolate, Lucy, chocolate… you can’t beat it. It’s the sweetest thing there is.”

  “That’s how you work, is it? You jump on the sweetest thing as soon as you see it?”

  “I claimed you without hesitation, didn’t I?” he says, passion pulsing in his voice. “Nothing could’ve stopped me from doing that. But I still don’t know what you want, Lucy.”

  “Huh?”

  “In life. Apart from me and our family, of course… and if that’s all you want, I’ll support you in that. I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do, always. Except if you ever wanted to leave me and be with another man—”

  “Never,” I cry, the thought alone provoking a violent response inside of me, everything roaring in protest.

  “Then I’ll always support you.” He smirks. “So what is it, my perfect virgin? What is your passion?”

  I take another bite, thinking as I chew, and then dab at my lips with a napkin. I keep expecting him to cringe or laugh at me, but the more time we spend together, the more I realize that these evil expectations exist only in my mind, and I don’t have to fixate on them so often.

  “It’s silly,” I say.

  “Nothing you’re passionate about could be silly,” he says firmly. “Tell me.”

  I take a deep breath, stunned at how difficult this is for me to talk about. I’ve never spoken about it to anyone.

  I’ve barely allowed myself to dream it. I work in private, always, trying on my own outfits and trying to improve. I take online courses.

  But I never speak about it.

  “I want to be a fashion designer for plus-size women,” I say, forcing the words out.

  I take a big sip of my milkshake right after, as though I can blot out the admission by blasting my taste buds.

  “That’s amazing,” he says.

  “Really?”

  His eyes brim with acceptance, or what I read as acceptance.

  But what if I’m wrong?

  No, my heart cries. He is everything you’ve ever wanted. Do not doubt yourself out of this heaven.

  “Really,” he says, voice hard. “I’d never lie to you about something you clearly hold so dear. So do you already design clothes?”

  “Yes.” I nod, cheeks flaming red, too much eagerness in my voice, and somehow not giving a damn. “I’ve been doing it for years, ever since I was twelve years old. We had an activity room in the orphanage, and I’d sneak in after dark
and use the sewing machine. I stole or scavenged for the fabrics.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing. The other kids were always looking for a reason to make fun of me. And I didn’t have money to buy my own fabrics.”

  “It pains me that you had to work in that way,” he growls. “But part of me is glad too.”

  “Glad?”

  “It’s yet more proof of how incredible you are, Lucy. You have a passion, a dream, and you didn’t let your circumstances stop you from pursuing it. I respect the hell out of that. You’re smart and resourceful as well as beautiful.”

  A warm glow moves through me, triggering emotions that whelm up inside of me, filling me to the brim until I feel as though I’m going to overflow with the force of his acceptance.

  “That means more to me than you can know, Luca,” I murmur.

  “You’ve never spoken about this before, have you?” he says, peering closely at me, making it so I don’t have to relentlessly push past my shyness and say every little thing.

  My man will always be able to stare into my most intimate hidden parts.

  We’re meant for each other.

  “No,” I admit.

  “Thank you for sharing it with me,” he says. “And I meant what I said. I’ll support you in any way I can. How far do you want to take this, Lucy?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, suddenly feeling like we’re in a business meeting.

  It’s sweet to feel as though I’ve got some control over what happens in my life, some say in the story of me, whereas so often I’ve felt like personal agency only belonged to other people.

  “Do you want to be a fashion show queen or…”

  He shrugs and bites into his burger, looking at me like he’s got all the time in the world to hear my answer. I’ve rehearsed what I want out of life dozens of times in my mind but having it asked so attentively leaves me breathless.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Liar.” He smirks. “You know. You’re just getting nervous again when there’s no need. There’s never a need with me and you. You can tell me how you really feel, how you truly feel deep down…”

  “Always,” I finish.

  “Always,” he snarls.

  “I want to start a comfortable fashion line for the masses,” I say, my voice coming out quickly and excited. “I want the clothes to be stylish and complement the plus-size figure, but I don’t want it to be messy with buttons and clasps and lots of unnecessary stuff. I want to be able to slip it on and feel beautiful. The problem is I’ve only ever used myself as a model and before you, I never could believe I was beautiful.”

  “But now you know,” he growls, “and it will make your work so much better.”

  “I hope so,” I whisper.

  “Every resource I have is at your disposal. Once this war is over, you can start your fashion line and hire as many workers and models as you need. Anything that gets you closer to your dream, I will provide.”

  “I accept,” I say at once.

  He chuckles. “You’re not proud. I like that.”

  “You can’t afford to be when you’re raised an orphan, surrounded by bullies. I always told myself if I was ever made an offer like this, I’d accept. I didn’t expect the man of my dreams to be the one making the offer, though, or to ever get one.”

  I avert my gaze, stunned that those words just came out of my mouth, that I spoke them without stuttering, without betraying my nervousness.

  “You’re the woman of my dreams, Lucy,” he says sternly. “There’s no need to be ashamed.”

  “What about you?” I ask. “Is the Mafia life enough for you?”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head fiercely, his silver hair dancing in small movements. “I’ve always been an ambitious man, but my alliance with Franco has made it difficult to progress towards what I really want.”

  “What, Luca?” I say, rapt, unable to look away from the glinting conviction in his dark eyes.

  “I want to turn all the crime syndicates in the city into legitimate businesses. I want to eradicate crime altogether. I want to make it so people are too busy with work – or failing that, too afraid of me – to behave the way Franco does. It’s going to be a hard task, but I’ve made inroads over the years. I’ve legitimized much of my business, and made sure I have a presence, even a hidden presence, in other crime organizations.”

  He ramps up, moving his hands passionately, sinking deeply into his topic. I can’t look away. He’s so enthusiastic and charismatic and compelled by what he’s talking about.

  “The problem is that once a criminal organization has gone legitimate, it’s easy for criminals to fill the gap they’ve left behind. I’m going to maintain the Lioni Family so that whenever somebody steps out of line, they will know they’ve got fierce punishment waiting for them. That’s the ultimate dream, but it’s so big, so insane, I don’t know if I can do it in my lifetime.”

  “You can,” I say, his enthusiasm making my voice fiery and certain. “I know you can. Seeing you speak about it like that, with so much conviction, heck, Luca… I know you can do it. I’ll support you, however, I can. I know that probably won’t count for much though.”

  “It counts for everything,” he says, reaching over and squeezing my hand, letting me feel the carnal passion barely contained inside of him. “I’ve always wanted to do this, but only for the betterment of the city. Now I want to do it so you and our children have a good, decent place to live… a good, decent world even.”

  I squeeze onto him, so much emotion bursting inside of me I’m afraid I might cry.

  “Come on, Lucy,” he says with a smirk. “Eat your food before it gets cold.”

  “Is that an order?” I banter.

  “You’re goddamn right it is,” he says, staring hard at me.

  I pick up my burger and take a bite, and I smile, and my man smirks back at me.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Luca

  This isn’t how I wanted to start my day.

  After the date with Lucy last night – after the talking and the kissing and the long romantic walk around the estate – I wanted to have breakfast with her and pick up where we left off. We ended the night with an intense kiss, but I sensed the anxiety twisting through her and I somehow forced myself to stop.

  “Soon,” I whispered, grazing my lips along her cheek. “Very fucking soon.”

  “Thank you for being so patient,” she said.

  “You deserve it,” I told her.

  And that’s true. She does deserve it.

  But trying to sleep last night – separate from my woman – was an unconquerable task. I ended up in the gym, putting my body through the wringer, waiting for her to wake so we could watch the sun rise together.

  Then Aldo called.

  “Franco wants to meet,” he said. “The Lioni Lounge, nine AM. Think it’s a trap?”

  “It could be,” I told my cousin. “But I’m not running scared from that cowardly piece of shit.”

  Now I sit in the passenger side of his car. The traffic is clogged because of some construction work at the intersection, the same work that’s been there for six weeks. Half the time I rarely see workers on the site.

  “The mayor needs to sort that shit out,” I growl, my arm out the window and my fingertips drumming the roof of the car. “Almost two months that work’s been going on.”

  “He’s too scared,” Aldo says. “Construction is backed by the Irish mob.”

  I laugh grimly. “Maybe we’ll help the mayor out once this shit is sorted with Franco. People have got places to be, cousin.”

  Aldo smiles across at me as we are stopped at a red light, eyes narrowed behind his thick glasses. “You thinking of running for office, boss?”

  “Maybe I should,” I grunt. “I’d do a better job than this asshole.”

  “You would,” Aldo agrees. “But it’s a dangerous business, getting involved in politics.”


  “I know.” I nod. “It’s better to stay in the shadows. You’ve always been wise beyond your years, Aldo.”

  The younger man grins up at me. “I get it from you, eh, boss.”

  “Alright, calm down with the flattery.” I chuckle. “I rely on you to give it to me straight, not to get the truth all dolled up like so many advisors do. That’s Franco’s problem, surrounding himself with yes men.”

  “Amen to that,” Aldo says, nodding. “And you’re right. This traffic is fucking unacceptable.”

  I nod and keep drumming my fingers against the roof, everything inside of me roaring that I shouldn’t be here. I should be with my woman, watching how she looks on the balcony in the morning sunlight, with her dark hair tussled sleepily around her shoulders.

  “I’m surprised that coke head Franco is even up this early,” I say, my tone as bitter as my mood.

  “Probably hasn’t been to sleep,” Aldo mutters. “You good, boss?”

  “What do you mean?” I snap.

  He flinches, and I remind myself to rein myself in a little bit. Anger can be used as a weapon, but it sends a man into danger more often than not. And Aldo is a good man, a loyal friend, my cousin, and my consigliere.

  “It’s not you. It’s not Franco.” I sigh darkly. “It’s the fact I’m not with Lucy, where I belong. If Franco keeps me away from her for a second longer than he needs to, it’s not going to end well for him.”

  “I get that, Luca. But this is about building bridges, remember.”

  “He better be ready to grovel then,” I snarl. “He insulted my woman. He humiliated her. He tried to bully her… all in front of me. If he makes the same mistake again, I won’t be held responsible for what I do to him.”

  Aldo swallows, nodding.

  “Then we better hope he cooperates.”

  We pull up outside my club, the lights dim in the daylight. I normally never come here during the daytime. I’ve got managers who handle my businesses well and I only come here at night for meetings, when the streets are packed and the lights are glittering like Vegas.

  It seems cold and lifeless in the daylight.

  We climb out, Aldo and me from his car and our crew of eight from the adjacent cars. I walk at the head of the group as my men follow behind me, all of them quiet and ready for anything.