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I knew using the word ‘reputation’ would win this tug of war.

“Of course. We would never want you to soil your name. Well… next time.”

“Yes, next time. Send my love to Mother. I’ll call you both when I return from Chicago.” There was a knock at my door. “The Chinese food delivery man is here. I have to go.”

Hanging up the phone, I felt a tad guilty. I hated to lie, but there really was no other way when dealing with my parents. They were stubborn and always got their way. I was a powerful woman in the courtroom. I was someone not to be messed with. But when it came to my parents, I was weak and had no spine at all.

Opening the door, I didn’t even bother to put a robe on. I had become a regular delivery of several times per week, and I think it was fair to say the poor deliveryman was used to seeing me at my worst. It wasn’t like I was in some sexy lingerie or something, and I was covered more than any young millennial about to hit up the New York clubs tonight.

“Hey,” I said with a welcoming smile, but instantly paused when I sensed something was different.

The deliveryman—I had never bothered to get his name—appeared afraid. He looked at me with wide eyes and a pale face. My heart stopped for a split second, unsure what could make the friendly man look the way he did.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

My question was answered for me when the deliveryman was pushed aside, and Eddie Vasco stood in his place. I finally stood before my obsession in person—dark hair, piercing eyes, and wearing one of his suits that was in a picture on my wall.

Eddie handed the man a wad of cash and gave a warning look that sent a shiver down my spine. “Continue on with your deliveries. Nothing out of the ordinary happened tonight. It would be a shame to have to find you tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said and turned to quickly walk away. He didn’t even look at me, but I didn’t blame him. Who would stand up against Eddie Vasco? I didn’t think the money had anything to do with him leaving and no doubt keeping his mouth shut.

Then it dawned on me that I should fear for my life as well.

I tried to slam the door shut, but Eddie had already placed his black leather shoe in the threshold and used his arm to open the door even wider.

“Now, Miss Bell, this isn’t how you treat a guest. With all your proper boarding school upbringing, I expected better from you.”

My breath hitched as Eddie forced his way into my apartment, shutting the door behind him. I glanced over my shoulder at the couch where I had left my cell phone. I also considered screaming, but for some reason felt I should be very careful in how I handled this situation with Eddie. Screaming, running, or even fighting could get me killed. This was the mafia boss and not some random burglar. This was Eddie Vasco, and he knew exactly who I was.

“I don’t know why you’re here,” I said, taking a few steps backwards toward the couch.

“Oh, I think you do,” Eddie countered as he walked toward me slowly. He reminded me of a mountain lion stalking his prey—calculated, stealth-like, deadly. He stopped when he stood directly in front of the wall of pictures and stared at them.

He chuckled, which wasn’t exactly the reaction that I expected. “I knew a lot of pictures were being taken of me, but I had no idea just how many.” He turned his head to look me in the eye. A small smirk lit up his face. “This is quite the invasion of my privacy, wouldn’t you say, Miss Bell?”

“There’s a patrol car right outside,” I warned.

“I know.”

“If I scream,” I began.

“If you scream, then innocent people die. I have my men in the hallways prepared to clean up any mess that should arise.” He looked back at the pictures on the wall with his arms crossed against his chest. “My hope is to keep this as clean as possible. But that’s entirely up to you.”

I could hear the rapid beating of my heart in my ears. “I want you to leave right now.” My voice cracked as I issued the demand.

“Yes, well… we all want things in life, now don’t we?”

I stole another peek at my phone, wondering if it were even possible to reach it and dial 911 before Eddie could stop me.

“You could try for that phone,” he said, never taking his eyes away from the photos but somehow reading my mind, “but then things would get dirty.” He turned to glance at me from head to toe with a devilish grin. “Do you like things dirty, Miss Bell?”

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