Not giving him the chance to reply, I ask, “Have we met before? You seem so familiar.” My words come out hoarse, strangled by both arousal and fear.
The handsome stranger’s eyes flare with a vast range of emotions before his lips tug high. The quickest flash of a smirk freezes my heart. My god this man is…beautiful.When he runs his hand across the scruff on his tanned face, a shimmer of platinum wrapped around his ring finger captures my attention.
"You're married?!"
I cringe when my nasally high voice bounces off the walls and jingles into my ears. Since I'm locked in an enthralling daze of idiocy, I thought there was something greater than fear between us. Obviously, I was wrong.
Masking my disappointment with a neutral look, I return the married stranger’s rousing stare.
“Is your wife here? Does she speak English?” I question when my inquisitiveness gets the better of me.
The dark-haired stranger’s brows knit, but he remains so quiet, only my heart thumping against my ribs can be heard. Astonishment and another unreadable glint brightens his nearly black eyes as he begins to speak. Before a syllable escapes his mouth, the door I was dragged through seconds ago flies open.
The trance the sable-haired man’s beauty placed on me lifts when a burly-looking man in a full-length trenchcoat steps into the room. His hollow eyes bounce between me and the mystery stranger for several heart-thrashing seconds before he locks them on the gentleman standing beside me.
Mimicking the direction of his gaze, I turn my eyes as well. My heart sinks into my stomach. The captivatingly handsome specimen I was entranced by seconds ago has vanished, replaced with the man who confronted me in the room earlier. The same room with an injured man bound to a chair.Oh, my God, I’m a terrible person.I’m standing in a room eyeballing a man as if his body parts are on a dessert menu all while another man sits helpless only doors up from me.
The despair digging a hole in my heart deepens when the man at the door says, “Rico, it's time.” His voice is heavily drawled with an accent I don’t immediately recognize.
“Do as requested. I do not need to be present,” responds the handsome stranger standing next to me.
The gentleman at the door bows his head. “Yes, Boss."
He shuffles backward like a dog afraid of getting a newspaper whacked across his disobedient nose. When he closes the door, I stand quiet for a minute, giving my scattered brain a chance to run the events from the past ten minutes through my blurry mind.
It's only when I reach the first half of the intruder’s statement does my dazed state end.
I try to ignore the room is closing in on me. “You’re Rico?”
Dizziness plagues my senses when Rico nods. I splay my hands across my hips and gulp in large breaths, shocked at discovering the mysterious stranger standing before me is Rico:the owner of the name tattooed on my hip. When the swirling of my stomach becomes too much for me to handle, I slap my quivering hand over my mouth and battle to hold in the contents threatening to break free. The fiery heat scorching my veins unveils another new discovery: a crisp coolness tingling on my parched lips.
Heavily panting, I pull my hand away from my mouth. A rush of giddiness clusters in my head when my eyes zoom in on a sparkling platinum band wrapped around the third finger of my left hand. The twisting of my stomach extends to my heart when I realize its ruby and diamond design is an exact replica of the ring on Rico’s hand.
I take a stumbling step backward, my pupils widening, my heart rate faltering.
Oh. My. Lord.
I married a mob boss.
Chapter 3
White spots dance in front of my eyes as the room spins. This can't be happening. There must be a mistake. I'm a good girl. I wouldn't wake up married to a stranger, let alone a mob boss.
Stumbling, I make my way to a wooden chair similar to the one the gentleman three rooms over is bound to. Noticing my unsteady movements, Rico places his hand on the crook of my elbow. His touch is electric, sending a surge of awareness over every inch of my body.
Plopping into the seat, I drop my head to my knees and draw in deep breaths, my chest rattling as I battle through the impulse to faint. The efforts of my heaving lungs double when the warmth of a hand spreads across my back. My brain screams for me to yank away from Rico's touch, but my heart pleads for me to accept his comfort. Unable to concentrate on anything but the panic havocking my body, I take the comfort he's offering with a grain of salt.
Over time, the heat of Rico's hand soothes my shaking, and the smooth grittiness of his voice swallows the violent ringing in my ears. I give myself a few moments to settle the crazy beat of my heart before lifting my head from between my knees. A rush of giddiness clusters in my brain again. It isn’t from my sudden incline; it's from the deliriously handsome specimen crouched down in front of me.
“Are you alright?” Rico’s tone is a unique mix of commanding and nurturing.
Unable to speak through my fire-scorched throat, I simply nod. He takes two retreating steps, then props his backside onto a wooden chest a few feet from me. My shoulders instinctively roll, and I straighten my slouched posture when his dark eyes run over my body. Unlike the chill I got when his eyes raked my body in the other room, this time, his long perusal causes the temperature in the room to become stifling.
When he returns his eyes to my face, I inhale a shaky breath. His gaze is commanding, primitive, and strong, and it sets my pulse racing.
Spotting my heated cheeks, a smirk curves on his plump lips. “Did you not see the sign at the start of the hall, Kitten? Women are not allowed in this area. And where are the two men stationed outside your room?”
My brows stitch, mindful of the authoritativeness in his voice. “Women aren’t allowed in here?”
