Page 16 of Runaway in the Mafia (The shadows of Cosa Nostra Chronicles #3)

CHAPTER TWELVE

AHANA

T he door slammed shut on his side.

He called me a whore. I should have kicked him where it hurt and taken off right then and there. But then he apologised. I’d never had a man apologise to me. Not when he forced me, nor when he beat me. I couldn’t even remember Pāpā or my brothers apologising. Ever. But he had.

He either regretted it or he was mad about something else.

Because he was mad. There was a tiny vein thumping on his forehead angrily.

His jaw was tensed. Tight. Like he was gritting his teeth.

He looked anything but happy to take me home.

Which left me wondering why he was, because I’d certainly not asked him to.

But he’d been the one to turn up outside my office.

Obstructing my plans of calling home. If anything, I should have been the one pissed off.

At least this time, he was in black. From top to toe.

Black shirt and black shoes. Even his damn tie was black today, like it was reflecting his dark intentions.

It did nothing to take a notch off his good looks.

Desire pooled inside me. Made my skin flush. My breathing heavy. Sitting inside a metal encasement clad in leather only amplified it.

He handled the machine beautifully. Smooth and easy. With an elegance that could only come with talent and confidence. A quick, instinctive thought rushed through me. Was this the way he handled a woman? Stop it. What’s with all these intrusive thoughts, Ahana?

He shifted gears, and my eyes dropped down to his hands clenched around the gear stick. Naked forearms with a dusting of hair and thin black ink saying something in Sicilian. A pulse beat somewhere it shouldn’t. I crossed my legs and squeezed my hands into fists.

This was a crime. I shouldn’t want him. He had put something in me I shouldn’t feel. Lust. Red ardent desire. For a man I wasn’t legally tied to. Maybe Rajesh was right? I was a whore. But saying it in my mind didn’t help me pull my gaze from him. So I whispered it to myself. Whore.

“What’d you say?”

My gaze pulled up from his arm to his face. Rage stared back at me. There was a thick lump in my dry throat. I swallowed it nervously. “Nothing.”

“I thought you said—”

“I asked what it says…” his gaze on the road scowled. “On your arm.”

Disgust rolled off him as he flicked a gaze to his arm. “Sono esattamente come mio padre.”

I cocked my brow to the shake of his head. He let out a soft laugh before he added, “I forget you don’t understand Italian. It says I am everything my father was.”

“That’s sweet.”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“My father was the devil reincarnated.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t—”

“He was.” The tilt to his lips was sad, his gaze full of pain as it slid to me for a second before he pulled it back to the road.

It was like a thick curtain was pulled aside, and I glimpsed a different man.

Behind the facade of anger, I found pain.

So deep that the roots went beyond six feet.

It followed him like a dark shadow. Had sunk into his soul.

He might have once fought against it. But he had never won.

Didn’t want to win. He wanted to suffer to make up for whatever he thought he had to.

His father had left so much despair behind him that he felt the need to cement it with black ink.

Carry it around like armour and cloak it like a coat.

One he wore day in and out, and even when he slept.

This wasn’t rage. This was penance for the crime of another.

“Huh?”

I found his gaze on me and realised he’d said something.

“How about your father?”

My hand clutched my locket. I shouldn’t tell him anything. This man would use it against me. Dig deep and find the sink holes within it. But I couldn’t help myself. “He’s amazing.”

“Yeah?”

I nodded vigorously. I could talk for hours about Pāpā. “I really think I lucked out with him.”

A soft smile tilted his lips before the back of his hand graced my cheek. “I’m glad you have him. You deserve him.”

His hand fell away, but his words remained. You deserve him rolled in the air around me, making the car warm and fuzzy. I held it close to my heart and carried it right up to the moment the engine fell silent and the soft hum underneath my bum stilled.

This man. He wasn’t bad. At all.

“Thank you for the ride.” I made to open the door.

“I’ll need payment.”

Just like that, my belief in him scattered, clattering all over like heavy metal being dropped.

Clenching my teeth, I turned to find him leaning back against his seat.

The seat belt tangled loosely beside him, and an arm had found its way to the back of my seat.

All those things worried me less than the devilish glint in his eyes.

He had a plan, and he was rolling it out. Something told me I was the victim.

My hands fumbled with my bag, clicking it open. “What does a ride cost these days in a Ferrari? Ten times that of a bus?”

“More like a million.”

I frowned and shrank back in my seat. “You want me to pay you a million bucks?”

He shook his head. “Don’t need the money.”

“Thought as much.” I made for the door, and the lock clicked like a loud cough during a minute of silence.

Anger coasted through me. Vexed at myself for believing this man was anything good.

Another mistake in my life to add to my never-ending list. All because, yet again, I had not stood up for myself.

I pulled the strap of my handbag in a rage and dumped it between us. “What do you want, then?”

My rage should have exploded his head. Blood should have spattered. His. But it remained handsomely intact on his gorgeous neck. I gritted my teeth. This wasn’t helping. “Well?”

He was all cool and unbothered as he sank deeper into his caramel skin leather chair. His all-black outfit matched brilliantly with his dark intentions.

“Mamma doesn’t know you are dumping her driver.” It was a statement, not a question.

“So?” I crossed my arms.

“She hates it when girls aren’t chaperoned.”

I sighed. I knew that. Of course I did. Just like my Maa did, but I didn’t care about what she thought.

Ada. Ada, I didn’t want to disappoint. I relished having her mother me.

It made me feel wanted. Loved. She was the only one who knew everything about me, aside from Amara.

And still she accepted me. My heart squeezed.

She didn’t think I was a curse. I didn’t want to let her down, too.

The linen of my skirt crushed between my hands. “What do you want?”

His answer came without hesitation. “A kiss.”

My gaze snapped to his. Emotion somersaulted in mine. Dark, malicious intent swam in his. The car whirled with the scent of sandalwood, musk and everything leather. Everything him. It was delicious. No, it wasn’t. I pitched back violently, shaking my head like a lunatic. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he growled.

Can’t or won’t? I was in too deep to figure it out. I couldn’t think. My skin itched. My breath hitched. My pulse spiked, and it wasn’t on my wrist. I needed air. Something to cool me off. Because this man had robbed me of my brain cells.

“Can’t or won’t, Ahana?” he repeated, his voice low, warm, and rough. It glided along my skin and crept into my soul. A touch of silk, with an edge of rawness in it. It was sin. Coated in sweetness.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Agreed.”

“You are blackmailing me.”

“No doubt about it.”

I paused. My gaze on his dark irises. No green anywhere to be seen. Black. Only black pulling me in. “So, why are you doing it?”

“Can’t help it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” I threw back his words.

Hot air sizzled between us. It was like the gear shifted from neutral to the sixth.

There was so much chemistry here, a spark would light a fire and blow us up.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The thick swallow of his Adam’s apple, the shift of his thighs, the slide of the back of his hand inches from the nape of my neck said it all.

Then his gaze shifted, unexpectedly. Beyond me.

I turned to find my much-needed cold relief.

Lia was walking out the door and strolling our way.

This feeling, like I yearned for something…

that was relief. I think . I spun around to find his annoyed gaze on me.

“I want that kiss, Ahana. Give it to me now, and it might just be a peck.”

His lie was glaring. This man didn’t do pecks. If he kissed, he’d make sure to put his mouth all over me. My body hummed in anticipation of that. I shook my head vigorously.

“Coward,” he whispered.

“Smart,” I retorted.

“We’ll see about that. You’d better find a dark hole to hide in. Because the next time I see you, I’m fucking eating you up.”

Hey Bhagwan!

The lock clicked open just as Lia pulled the door. I was a cluster of nerves when I stumbled out. “Hey, hey, you okay?”

My limbs felt detached, but somehow, I managed a jerky nod. She looked at me strangely. “He didn’t bother you too much, did he? I’m sorry. I had to tell him.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered.

He didn’t bother me at all. He could say whatever he wanted. I wasn’t scared of him. I wasn’t.