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Did she just offer to help him? In all the years he’d been a hired hit man for the mafia around the world, not once had someone involved with the victim offer to help him. There was more to this woman than he knew, and he wanted to explore every bit of it.
“Do you really want to help? You don’t understand the work I’m in.”
Harmony stepped closer to him, the little negligee leaving nothing to the imagination as to what was beneath it. He felt his cock grow and it ached against his Versace custom dress pants. He had to remain strong, no matter how much he wanted to unleash it and show her a good time. He sucked in his breath as she was only inches from him. He had to change the subject, fast.
“Who is this Gio you were talking about?”
She stopped in her tracks and looked away. “He’s my ex. He decided that multiple women was more his style…and he’s not poly.”
Darius felt his blood boiling. Who would ever harm this perfect deity? What sick, twisted, demented fuck would cheat on this delicate rose? Once the business with Alessandro was done, he wanted to take care of this Gio himself, with or without a contract. He could tell by the way she spoke and her manners in the little time of knowing her that she was not only beautiful, but there was a soft and caring side. The way she spoke about Gio and Alessandro proved this rose had thorns.
“Mia rosa.”He whispered.
“What was that?”
“You.” He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he gently took her hand in his. It was creamy, the feel of cashmere. He clasped her hand in his. “You are a rose. It’s my job to read people. I can see you have a caring heart until someone hurts you, then you pull out the thorns.”
Harmony smiled. “That’s what my mother always says.”
Darius gently lifted her hand to his lips. “You’re still willing to help even after my mistake,mia rosa?”
Harmony smiled so wickedly, he wanted to take her right there on the bathroom floor.
“Absolutely.”
Chapter 5
Harmony
For some reason, agreeing to help Darius felt so right. Sofia had fucked with her life enough, and if this was the way to teach her sister a lesson to wise-up then so be it. She lay on the bed, caressing her hand against her chest. After their conversation in the bathroom, Darius told her to meet him later for dinner downstairs. When he left, he didn’t lock the door and all the alarms mysteriously disappeared from the windows while she showered. She kept thinking about how he sounded, how good his touch felt. There was something about him she couldn’t place. She only just met him, but he made her feel safe and loved. She never felt this way around any of her boyfriends, not even Gio. Sexually, she wanted him badly. She wanted him underneath her, moaning her name, begging to touch her, her pussy squeezing his cock and milking it dry until he couldn’t come anymore.
She felt herself grow hot, pulsating, waiting for her treat. She sobered up out of her lustful thoughts when she thought,Does he feel the same way about me?
It wasn’t fair to think he wanted her just as badly. Except it wasn’t hard to see he had some sort of attraction to her the way he shifted and allowed his cock to try and play peek-a-boo under his pants.
She had to find out. Harmony Catrone was no damsel-in-distress. She didn’t even care that he kidnapped her at this point, now knowing the full story. Everything started to click. She was a woman who took what she wanted when she wanted it, and Darius would be no different.
Darius
Darius walked around the dining room table, making sure everything was perfect. An Italian like himself…well…half Italian…he couldn’t see her turning down a perfectly cooked meal of meatballs, pollo alla cacciatora, caprese pasta, and finish it out with freshly made tiramisu and cannolis by his Sicilian chef. After lighting the red taper candles, he grabbed the wine bottle that Stefano pulled out for him from the wine cellar off the table. Grabbing the corkscrew, he expertly twisted it into the cork and the familiarpopwas music to his ears. He wafted in the smell from the open neck of the 1945 Brunello di Montalcino. Perfection. He thought about going up to knock on her door to tell her dinner was ready, but there was no need. He heard the clack of heels against the hardwood stairs. Darius looked up and watched as the vision in red took delicate steps down each stair. The heels were black and strappy, and the bodycon dress held her curves snug. Her little fupa at her stomach and thick thighs took his breath and gave him a raging hard-on in return. It glittered under the soft candlelight. The dress had a long slit up the side of her right leg, exposing her thigh. He could tell she wasn’t wearing any panties or a bra for that matter. Her nipples poked at the thin fabric and her long hair cascaded down her back. He walked over to the other chair and pulled it out for her. She smiled and sat delicately as he pushed it in toward the table.
Harmony eyed up the spread. “Mmmm, pollo alla cacciatora. My favorite.”
Darius grabbed the wine bottle and poured the red liquid into her glass. “Really?” he said curiously.I’ll have to thank Ramiro later for that information.
She took the tongs and scooped some caprese pasta to start out with. He sat down on the other side of the small table. He was thankful he took out the 6 leaves earlier that made it from a table that could fit 15 to a more intimate setting. They eyed each other as they ate and sipped wine.
“Why did you decide to become a hit man?”
Darius was never taken by surprise, but her question caught him off guard and almost made him spit out his wine.
“Excuse me?”
“Amaestro sicario.Why?”
She continued eating forkfuls of pasta, barely batting an eye like her question was polite conversation. He loved a woman who got right to the point.
Darius shrugged his shoulders. “Money. Prestige. And I just like whacking people.”
