Romeo The Mafia Casanova

Eden’s [POV]

“I don’t know what he told or who he told it to; we have no leads, only evidence and a shit confession from Tristian himself when he got in too deep,” Andrei confided.

My head jerked up. “He confessed?”

Andrei sighed. “In a way.” He schooled his features again. “We’re still looking. But because both families, the Petrovs and the Sinacores, are aware of his…indiscretion.”

I flinched.

“You need protection.”

“I have a gun.” I scowled. “I know how to use it.”

“Sweetheart.” My dad spoke for the first time since sitting down.

“You don’t understand the ramifications. Tristian has put the entire family in jeopardy. At this point, we have no idea who he was working with, but it left every single one of us exposed; not only are we having to worry about new information getting discovered the old information has already spread like wildfire throughout the Cosa Nostra. The Five Families have long memories, and they like their pound of flesh.”

I gritted my teeth. “Sounds to me like they already got it.”

“One would think,” Andrei snapped.

My dad shot me a look so sad, so horribly telling, that I wanted to puke. It was the first time in years that I noticed the hard lines on his face, the wrinkles near his mouth, and the death in his eyes. If the mafia didn’t kill him-the job certainly would, wouldn’t it? His massive hands flexed and unflexed as he laid them on the table in a way that looked like surrender.

My father was a strong man; it was weird to see him appear weak, even for a second.

Andrei patted him on the arm. “We will take care of this; you worry too much. I’ll stay in New York until she’s dealt with.”

“She’s all I have.” Dad sighed again, and I never wanted the ground to swallow me whole more than I did in that second.

“She’s more important alive than dead,” Andrei added, simply like they were talking about the weather or the latest soccer game. They spoke as if I wasn’t in the room like I was a child, or worse…

A victim.

“I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe,” Romeo stated out of the blue.

My gaze fell upon his, and for an instant, we locked eyes.

“I know,” Dad whispered. “Because you are a good man, angry, cold-blooded, but good.”

“We can’t all be saints, can we, Romeo?” Andrei grinned over at Romeo. “Especially when it’s so much fun sinning.”

Romeo cleared his throat.

My entire body went still as I waited for the final judgment.

“Eden, Romeo will stay with you until we know what we’re dealing with. He’ll protect you from outside forces and, more importantly, the ones within.”

My jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

Andrei’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like a comedian?”

“N-no.”

“Didn’t think so,” he bit, shooting to his feet. “Romeo stays. You and your son need protection, but-” He adjusted his black tie. “More than that, when word spreads, people might get curious, and when they get curious, they tend to get lazy, if anyone wants to shut you up or discover more information on what Tristian was doing-they’ll come here, and when they do, I’ll have my black widow waiting.”

I hated that nickname.

Probably just as much as Romeo did.

“You do not catch villains by chasing them.” Andrei tapped his temple with his fingertip. “You catch them by standing still. By waiting.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of my house with every associate following him.

Including my father. His eyes were sad as he looked between Romeo and me, shook his head, and walked out.

He’d never been a man of great affection.

But what he lacked in physical comfort, he gave through his eyes. They always were so expressive.

He loved me.

He was scared for me.

And he was just as irritated that Romeo was going to be staying at my house as I was.

Damn you, Tristian!

How dare he have put Naz and me in this position?

The click of the door shutting was like a final gunshot slamming into my chest, sending me backward into oblivion as blood sprayed all over the room.

I would have welcomed that more than the fact that Romeo would be living in my house for as long as it took.

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Existing in our space.

A space that used to be his brother’s.

Did he think he could just step in and everything would be okay? Like a sad replacement for what we’d had? That’s not how families worked or how life worked.

Suddenly furious over this decision that was made without my consent or opinion, I shot to my feet and stomped out of the dining room or at least tried-after two steps, I was grabbed and spun around, pressed tightly against the countertop as Romeo crowded every inch of space between us.

“Stop,” he hissed.

I tried yanking my wrist away, but it was useless. “Stop what?”

“Pouting.” He clenched his teeth. “I take your life and the life of my nephew very seriously. Don’t for one second think I want to live here with his memories-with pictures of your perfect little family lining the walls. If I could, I’d burn every last one of them, so don’t test me. Drop the attitude and show some thanks for living in this hell for as long as it takes because that’s how I see it. A fucking living hell.” He pulled away, chest heaving. “Now, say the words…”

Anger boiled up so hard and fast I wanted to slap him again. This time for good measure. “How dare you come into my home, on the day of my husband’s fun-”

He grabbed my chin in a painful grip, forcing my jaw to close as he pulled me close, his fingers digging into the skin on my face. “I’m going to let go, and when I do, all I want to hear is ‘thank you.’ That’s it. No complaints. No threats. Don’t make this difficult. I’m not my brother. I let you hit me once, several times actually, but my patience is wearing very thin. I won’t let you do whatever you want; I’ll spank you until your ass is red if you disrespect me yet again. Now. Say. The. Words.”

Tears of pain filled my eyes as I glared; with difficulty, I got out a “Fuck. You.”

I expected him to yell.

Instead, an amused smile spread across his features as he dropped his hand, suddenly moving in a split second. He went for my body and threw me over his shoulder instead.

I beat at his back while he gracefully carried me down the hall and into the master bedroom; kicking the door shut behind him, he tossed me onto the king-sized bed.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he rolled up his sleeves like he was getting ready to work, and I was too shocked to do anything but stare at the golden skin of his forearms and the tattoos that littered his flexed muscles with each movement of his frame.

I sucked in a sharp breath when he was finished. Stalking toward me like a graceful predator, his eyes willing me to run.

However, that’s what men like Romeo wanted.

The chase.

The adrenaline.

The final catch.

The trophy.

I sat shocked as his eyes roamed over me. My mouth trembling with a mixture of anger and curiosity warred inside.

Was he going to hurt me?

Would he hurt me?

More than he already had?

His cold blue eyes flashed before he reached for me. It was pure instinct to scramble away. He caught my ankle and dragged me across the duvet, then very gently put me over his lap.

A hand swatted my ass so hard I couldn’t breathe, only to do it over again.

“Stop!” Tears stung my eyes. “Romeo, stop!”

“No.” Swat. “Not.” Swat. “Until.” Another swat. “You say it.”

“Please,” I cried.

“I don’t want you to beg.” He stopped spanking me and tugged at my hair with one hand while he wiped my tears with the other.

“I want your submission. I want your understanding. I want you strong enough to endure even this so I’ll ask one more time”