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I’m fucking Mafia, motherfucker.My ancestors are fucking Cosa Nostra.We do not negotiate. We don’t forgive. And we don’t forget. You owe us, you fucking pay.
Falling to his knees, Jimmy squeals like a toddler.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Mister Romano! It won’t happen again! Ever!!”
“When will I fucking
get my money?” I growl in his face, bending another finger at an impossible angle.
“I don’t have cash, but I…”
Before he can finish, there’s another sound of knuckles getting dislodged and bones breaking.
Start wearing a suit and acting a bit more civilized, and people forget you’re a fucking animal. I’ll fucking remind you, motherfuckers.
“I said, when,” I repeat.
“Man, I make that kind of money in a year,” Bennett cries out, his shaking voice filled with a disgusting blend of fear and pain.
I let go of his hand, noticing with disgust the two dangling fingers, the tears rolling down his cheeks, the snot from his nose, and the rancid smell of piss wafting from him.Fucking pathetic.
“One year,” I repeat, nodding. “I’ll give you three months. Fucking sell a kidney. I don’t care. If in ninety days you don’t have my money, I’ll do much more than break a couple of your fingers.”
His head bobs hectically. I grab the watch and car key and shove them in his chest.
“And never fucking insult me again with fucking knickknacks, like I’m some fucking pawn shop.”
He nods so hard, he’s making me dizzy.
“Get the fuck out of here. Three fucking months,” I add in a growl.
He turns to the woman, stretching his good hand for her to take, but I come stand between them.
“No, I’m keeping her. First installment,” I drawl.
Jimmy Bennett scurries out of my poker room, and I can finally give all my attention to my woman.
* * *
“What’s your name,cara?” I ask, softly, turning to finally face her.
3
Emma
“Um… I’m Emma. You’re… Alex, right?” I ask for his confirmation.
The dark giant nods. His somber eyes still roaming over the length of my body with a lazy, hooded gaze. Taking all his time, like a lover undressing his partner for the first time. He’s standing several feet away from me, but it’s as if I could feel his body heat, the graze of his huge hands.
“I’m Alessandro Romano,” he finally responds. Saying his name the way it’s meant to be pronounced, in an Italian accent.
His rolled R’s music to my ears. I nod, watching him with a strange mixture of fascination and apprehension. Alessandro Romano is goddamn beautiful, beyond attractive, and absolutely terrifying. Not because of the way he treated Jimmy. At least, not only because of that. But there’s an edge to him, an underlying current. A magnetic field that vibrates in the air surrounding his massive body, that tells you Alex Romano is a ticking atomic bomb. And his wrath, his interest, any emotion from him will hit you like a crashing tsunami wave. Maybe even destroy you…
“And what is it you want from me, Mr. Romano? Why did you have me stay?” I ask with as much calm and confidence as I can muster.
My job as a five-star hotel hospitality manager has made me a fierce negotiator. I can talk my way out of almost any situation. Almost.
Alex’s full mouth quirks in amusement as he studies me for a beat before responding.
