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Rafe
Did I want to threaten Elena in order to explain myself? No. Would I stoop so low? Of course. It was barely scratching the surface of what I considered wrong.
I took her to a favorite Italian spot uptown. She sat stiffly beside me in my car as I drove us through the city streets at night. Inside the restaurant, the servers tripped over themselves to serve us.
“I see you’re quite the big shot here,” Elena said, raising an eyebrow at me as I sat across from her.
I shrugged.“I’m quite the big shot to anyone who knows anyone in this city… except you, it seems.” I handed her the menu.
“I thought you’d order for me. Isn’t that what all the big dick bullies do in movies?” she challenged.
There it was again, that delightful, hot-as-fuck pluck. My girl had nerve. I savored her resistance. Breaking it would be so much sweeter.“Pick what you want, angel. Believe it or not, I have no desire to control you.”
“That’s clearly a lie since you ran over here and threatened to drag me away from my home or hurt an innocent woman if I didn’t toe the line.”
“Nicoletta isn’t innocent, Elena. You expose your own innocence in believing she is. She’s a smart woman. She’s becoming a doctor, for christ’s sake, and she’s had her sights set on marrying one of Mauro’s sons since she was a teen. She doesn’t want to be the medic of the Luciano family. She wants to be one of its daughters and, one day, the queen. She helped you escape in secret because she knew I’d forbidden you to leave, and she wanted you out of there in case you were a threat to her.”
“A threat? Are you two dating?”
“That is what she wishes, but exactly what isn’t going to happen. I have no interest in her,” I said flatly.
Elena narrowed her eyes at me and then shrugged, seemingly uncaring, but I could see her digesting my words.“Fine, whatever. She manipulated me to get me out of your home. It still doesn’t explain why you’re helping me. Was she lying to me? You’re not a mafia don’s son?”
A server approached with wine and poured my glass to taste it. After rolling it around in my mouth to check that the wine wasn’t corked, I nodded and spoke to him swiftly in Italian.
“Why am I not getting any?” Elena demanded immediately as the server poured my glass and then disappeared.
“Because you’re on painkillers, and I want you sober,” I said simply.
Elena glared at me.“Right, and you don’t want to control me. So, go ahead and deny that you’re a criminal as we sit surrounded by people who are clearly terrified of you.”
She folded her arms across her chest. She was still wearing her leotard with an oversized sweater. Others might feel intimidated about coming to a fancy place with causal and misplaced clothing, but not Elena. She didn’t give a fuck about this phony, keeping up appearances place, and I admired that.
“I’ve never been charged with a crime, but I’ve been questioned plenty of times. I’ve been accused of things but never found guilty. I have certainly committed crimes, but I have an excellent lawyer. Does that answer your question?”
“So, you are Mauro Luciano’s son?”
“Unofficially, yes. I’m a bastard,” I told her vaguely. She frowned at the word. “The empire of the Luciano’s will not fall to me, not without a lot of bloodshed. I have no interest in being boss.”
Elena was now listening with rapt attention, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from her. She was so beautiful, her eyes blazing fire. I wanted her portrait hanging on my dining room wall, where I could look at it every time I ate. Though, I’d probably have to kill the artist after for daring to look so closely and intimately at Elena in the process.
“Fine. You’re a reluctant criminal—"
“Not reluctant. I never said that. I have particular talents that benefit the family. I won’t lie. Most of the time, I enjoy my work. Until I met you and saw you dance last night, it was the only thing left that caused an emotional response in me.”
“And now?”
And now I had a new obsession. I didn’t say that, of course. I worried she’d stand up and scream the place down. I had to play nice while we were out among so many witnesses. This restaurant might be deep in the heart of the Italian community, and there were few there that didn’t know me by reputation alone. Yet, I’d hardly expect a restaurant of bystanders to stand idly by while I hauled Elena into my car and stole her away.
“And now it’s not,” I settled for saying.
She stared at me like she was trying to figure out what was going on in my head. Like she wanted to read my thoughts. If I were sure she wouldn’t try to run away, I’d share every possessive, depraved impulse that crossed my mind at the sight of her.
Her phone kept chiming now and again on the table, and I’d kill to know who it was. She narrowed her gorgeous eyes at me but let it go. The starters we’d ordered came, and the air filled with the scents of buttery steamed shellfish and garlic bread.
Elena eyed my wine as I drank it but didn’t push the point. It would be terrible for her liver to drink alcohol with the powerful painkillers Giacomo had given her. If I were a better man, I wouldn’t tempt her and stick to water myself, but I needed something to steady my nerves around her.
My hands itched to grab her. My lips longed to press against hers and sign my name there. A stamp of my ownership. I wasn’t a patient man, and I lived in a world where taking what you wanted was expected, yet I couldn’t take anything Elena didn’t want to give me willingly. I wanted her to want me back. I wanted her to burn for me. I needed time with her to achieve that, damn it, and Nicoletta had cost me that.
