Page 26 of Ruined Vows (Borrelli Mafia #5)

BIANCA

TEQUILA AND TENDER MOMENTS

I wake up with a hangover made of tequila, adrenaline, and bad decisions. I groan when I remember where we left off.

That kiss. It was hotter than hell, and I didn’t want it to end.

And his eyes? Dark and soulful. His lips? Fuck, I can still taste the tequila on his warm lips, and the expensive smell of him— musk mixed with danger and intrigue.

Even as I lick my lips now, I taste Vukan Petrovi?’s mouth.

It’s a reminder that last night wasn’t a dream. It’s just... inconvenient. I wanted him to break, but he has the willpower of a sledgehammer.

I’m still in the oversized tee I threw on when I got home—makeup smudged, and my hair is a low-level war crime. The second my face hits sunlight, my phone buzzes.

Joanne. Of course. I’m sure she’s hoping I’m in his bed, so I answer on the second ring and grunt, “Why are you calling me like something’s on fire?”

“Oh, don’t start with me,” she snaps. “Tell me everything. Now. How was Date Five? Did he bring you to a private island or a blood pact ceremony? ”

“Neither,” I mumble, pouring coffee. “A dive bar.”

Silence. Followed by, “I’m sorry. A what ?”

“A dive bar. Pool. Darts. Beer in bottles.”

More silence. Then, with enough glee to power the sun: “You like him.”

“I don’t. ”

“Liar. Did he kiss you?”

I pause.

She gasps. “He did .”

“It was... halfway.” Well, maybe I initiated it, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh my God. What does that even mean?”

“I mean, we met in the middle, and it was—” I stop, leaning against the counter. “It was... a problem.”

“A good one?”

“The worst kind.”

She laughs. “Spill.”

“We shot pool. He was annoyingly good. I lost. He gloated a bit. He said he won, after all. Whatever. So, I challenged him to darts. I won.”

“Because you’re terrifying. And you were in a dart league.”

“Exactly. And then... he kissed me. Not planned. Not polite. Just happened. Like he knew he was going to get one all along.”

“And?”

“And I let him.”

Joanne exhales as if she has just heard a proposal. “Bianca.”

“Don’t. I know.”

“What are you going to do?”

My coffee machine finishes, and I pick up the cup, sipping the caffeine I need desperately to keep my head from cracking. I reach into the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. I’m sure I need to hydrate. So I do my version of a speedball—caffeine followed by water.

“Hide,” I say after a pause. “Rebuild my emotional fortress. Remember, I’m supposed to ruin him .”

“You’re not doing a great job so far.”

“No,” I whisper. “I’m really not.” Damn it. I can’t let him win. What am I doing? This was supposed to be over with the first date. Or the third. Now we’re cruising toward date six.

And that kiss? It wasn’t like when the others kissed me. It wasn’t just heat. Or power. Or games.

It felt like a middle ground. Common ground. And that’s the most dangerous place of all.

This entire situation could go either way.

What the fuck am I going to do?

The man is a fortress. Unbreakable.

How did I miss it?

Is he immune to my charm? Granted, he’s had a hard cock at the end of every date, but still….He’s not tried to fuck me, not really.

What is his endgame?

“Well, just to let you know, I want all the details on the next date, and I’m gonna listen to it as I sit eating a bucket of popcorn,” Joanne teases.

I inwardly groan. This endeavor isn’t going as I had planned. I might need a bucket myself.