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“The safest,” I promise, heart thundering at the thought of her accepting my offer.
“And if I give you a child, you won’t keep him or her from me?”
I rear back, offended. “I’d never keep a mother from her child. Ever.” I lift her chin, so she meets my eyes, and her exhaustion is so loud through her defeated stare, I feel it in my bones. She wants to give in, but her morals still have a tight grip on her decision-making.
Bianchi isn’t as smart as me and he doesn’t use resources like I do, doesn’t have them like I have, but if I was able to find Rosie, it is only a matter of time before he does.
“And let me make something very clear, Tesoro.” I grip the slight curve of her chin harder, and she jerks her head back, so with my free hand, I wrap it around the back of her neck to keep her still. “Hit me again,” my nostrils flare at the thought and my cock threatens to rise “And I will bend you over my lap and spank your ass until you can’t sit for a week.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” my voice deepens on a threatening rasp.
“I think I hate you more than I hate the situation my family’s in.”
“I’ll live.”
It doesn’t mean I have to like her hating me, though.
Chapter Seven
Rosie
I don’t know how I ended up getting involved with not one mafia boss, but two. Either way, I’m screwed. I’m either dead or sign away my body to a man I don’t even know. A man who took it upon himself to learn everything there is to know about me. I hate it. I hate him and what I hate even more is how my body reacts to him.
The traitorous little bitch.
The man might be an annoying, power-hungry, arrogant ass, but I’d be stupid if I didn’t admit he was the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
His sex appeal isn’t enough to make me like him though.
“So you need me to be your wife and you need me to give you a child? I’m not trying to change the subject and I know you’ve told me, but can’t you find someone else? I don’t understand this.”
“It’s a family requirement in my position. My brother stepped down and I took over, meaning I need to have an heir. It looks good when a man in my position has a family. More respect is gained in the community,” he responds, finally walking away from me and around the store. “You know, this has a lot of potential. With the right remodeling, marketing, online networking, and new merchandise, you could be successful.”
He's trying to change the subject.
“So, a whole new store, you mean?”
“The idea would be kept the same, but this store is old and needs to be modernized.”
I roll my eyes and decide to ignore him. What does he know about business when all he does is threaten people for a living? “So you need a wife and kid to look good? That’s what you’re saying.”
“Yes,” he nods his head, not liking my terminology. “I guess that’s the easiest and most crass way to put it.”
“Then go out and pick someone more amenable to all your stupid demands.” I punch a few buttons on the register and the drawer dings as it opens. It’s an old register, the kind that looks more like a typewriter. It’s vintage and I love it, but it only takes cash, and I can’t afford to get a card reader. When I look into the drawer, my stomach turns when I see a five-dollar bill, a twenty, and a couple of quarters.
“I don’t want someone who bows to my every command.”
The words have me looking up from the pathetic register and I slam it shut, forgetting about counting down for the day. It’s pointless to do.
There isn’t enough to bother.
“Really? I find that shocking,” I grumble, my entire being all too aware of how hungry Mr. Milazzo looks, eyeing me up and down.
“I am full of surprises,” he answers, his hand falling to his cheek again, and a sly, barely there smirk tilts his lips as if he remembers when I slapped him.
My palm still burns from it. I put a lot of my weight into that slap. I wanted it to hurt and what ticked me off the most was how his head hardly moved when I hit him.
