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By the time we leave the motel, the sun has ducked behind the skyline, casting the city in a sapphire twilight.
I watch Massimo drive. Like everything he does, it’s done with confidence and with a fearlessness I feel drawn to. He’s focused, with his eyes fixed firmly on the road, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he grips the wheel, and I realize he is silent because he is pissed about something.
“Are you angry?” I ask.
He shifts gear like a race car driver.
“And here I was thinking I had a great poker face,” he says.
“You do. But when you’re angry, the little muscle in your jaw ticks.”
He glances at me, his face half hidden by shadow, the other side lit up by the city lights. “Is that so?”
God, he’s handsome.
He gives me a small smile, then turns his attention back to the road.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were living in that shitbox?”
“What does it matter?”
He shifts gear again. “It matters to me.”
“Why? It’s not your problem.”
He doesn’t answer and keeps his eyes firmly on the road ahead.
“You lied to me,” he says finally. “You told me you were bunking at a friend’s apartment in Midtown.”
I turn my face from him to look out the window. “Because I didn’t want you to know, okay? A girl has her pride.”
“You thought I’d think less of you because you were staying in a motel I wouldn’t put my worst enemy in?” He glances at me. “Why do you care what I think?”
“Why do you care where I live?”
“Because it’s not safe.” He shoves the gear stick forward. “And I’m involved now. I can’t have you living anywhere unsafe. So no more secrets, little monster. If we’re going to get your money back I want you to do two things.”
“Which are?”
“Trust me, and don’t keep anything from me.” He pulls into an underground parking garage.
I can’t help but smile. He’s being so protective, and after today, it feels nice to have someone so capable in my corner.
Massimo’s apartment is in Tribeca and takes up the top floor of the apartment complex.
And it’s stunning. Open layout. Exposed brick. Sleek, polished concrete floors. Soft ambient light. Large arched windows stretching from the floor to the ceiling, with the iconic cityscape glittering beyond.
It’s the perfect balance between modern design and industrial chic.
Stepping through the steel-framed door, I follow Massimo into the lounge where he drops my bags by the plush sofa and walks over to the bar.
I look around the apartment. It feels warm here. Comfortable. It carries a hint of a woody, earthy scent, mixed with the cold, hard feel of money.
“You live here?” I ask as Massimo opens a bottle of scotch.
“No, I only stay here if I’ve been working in the city late or if…”
“Or if you want to bring someone home?”
I cast my eye around the stylish loft, wondering how many women have been pleasured by Massimo within these walls. Then wonder how many women screamed his name as he made them come, and I start to feel incredibly inept. He’s so experienced, and I’m so… virginal.
I run my fingers along the top of the glass table, looking out over the views. “So this is like a fuck pad?”
Massimo cocks an eyebrow and then starts to laugh. “No, I have a room at a hotel nearby for anything like that. As a rule very few people have access to any of my homes.”
I watch him pour two drinks. He’s relaxed here, less tense.
He hands me a crystal tumbler. “You can stay here until you’re on your feet.”
I look at him suspiciously. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Because I’m a sucker for Mafia princesses who aren’t afraid to stand up to me when they think I’m wrong. I like your fire, little monster.”
I take a sip of the scotch, which I didn’t realize I needed, and end up downing it in one mouthful. It burns like molten lava going down but when the heat spreads through my chest, it makes me feel warm and relaxed and safe.
He walks back to the bar and pours me another, draining his on the way there.
“Come on, I’ll give you the tour,” he says, passing me the new drink.
He leads me through the loft, and I slowly take it all in.
It’s then I suddenly realize I don’t want to be alone.
I stop walking, and he notices. He turns around.
“Can I ask one more favor?” I ask.
“Sure.”
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
25
MASSIMO
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
I’m not going to hell because I already live there.
Every instinct in me screams for me to leave. To say no and get the fuck out before I do something stupid like kiss her.
Because kissing her won’t be enough. You’ll end up naked and inside her, driving hard and so fucking deep into her just to hear her moan your name.
