His Mafioso Princess Read online

  It wasn’t that I didn’t respect him enough, or love him enough. I just couldn’t live happily in a world where I was expected to smile prettily on the rare occasions I was showed off to my father’s associates, and then forced to live in some gilded cage for the rest of the time. Papa let me go shopping and participate in all the charities I loved to contribute to, but those were things people expected of me. As if I was too simple-minded to do or be anything but Vito Vitucci’s little doll that he let out of the house once in a blue moon.

  Scarlett had never been one to just sit by and let our father—or anyone else for that matter—walk all over her as most people thought they could with me. She was so much like Papa. All she had to do was walk into a room and all eyes were drawn to her. She exuded a confidence and power most people overlooked in me, but I was okay with that. I liked that they underestimated me. It meant they weren’t looking at me when I planned an attack.

  “Papa, it was just a stupid guy playing games.” Scarlett tried to dismiss the incident from earlier that day, though there was something in her eyes I didn’t fully understand. “I’m sure your men will deal with it.”

  It could have been from what had happened earlier, or it could have been because of Ciro still acting like a jackass, punishing not only himself, but especially her from the supposed nobleness of staying away. She was used to Ciro, though, so I figured it was more the former.

  Carlo Santino Jr., a man I assumed was a pest to Papa, was in town. For some reason, it had everyone acting like he was the boogieman. I had no idea who the guy was, but when he had approached Scarlett while she had been out earlier, it had gotten everyone’s underwear in a twist. Or so my twin had told me.

  I had still been with Adrian when it had happened.

  “Santino is good at games, passerotta,” our father told her, his face turning darker. “Just for once, please listen, yeah?”

  She smirked at him over her cup of rich coffee. “I’ll try, Papa.”

  He rolled his eyes, sighed heavily, but then gave her a tender smile that made my twin glow.

  I loved the connection the two of them had, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little jealous. I knew Papa loved me, that I was special to him, but everyone knew Scarlett was his favorite.

  I would never be able to hold a candle to Scarlett in his eyes. It wasn’t because I was somehow lacking when compared to my twin. We each had our strengths, and when put together, we could have taken on the world. No, my father’s affection was less when it came to me because I was so much like my mother.

  Scarlett was blind when it came to the relationship our parents had once had. She thought Papa had loved our mother desperately, but I didn’t have the heart to set her right. We might have just been toddlers when Aslinn Vitucci had died, but Cristiano had confessed to me exactly how far from perfect our parents’ marriage had been.

  They had loved each other, but they had hated each other just as much. I didn’t know how they had stood each other for so long to have had three children together, yet they had somehow made it work. Nevertheless, those same qualities Papa had both loved and hated in my mother, he now saw in me, and it had affected our relationship. We would never have a relationship as close as his and Scarlett’s, but I was okay with that.

  “Victoria?” His tone was just as strong and lovingly gentle, but I wasn’t blind to the consternation in my father’s eyes. I was always on his mind, but it was with worry. Worry about my disease. Worry about me getting into trouble. I was pretty sure he was going to get an ulcer from all his worrying about me, if he didn’t already have one.

  I gave him a full-on grin that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I will endeavor to follow Scarlett’s lead, Papa.”

  His eyes touched lovingly over my face for a brief moment before he pushed his chair back and stood. “You girls will be the death of me one day,” he predicted as he came around to touch his lips to the top of my head before moving on to Scarlett.

  He tapped her on the nose, something he did only with her. “Watch over your sister,” I heard him murmur to her before raising his voice to say goodnight.

  “Goodnight, Papa,” I called after him, rolling my eyes at my sister who only took a savoring sip of her coffee, hiding her smile behind the mug.

  No sooner had Papa left, Cristiano stood to leave us, as well. “I have an appointment,” he attempted to lie.

  “Right.” Scarlett snorted.

  “Sure,” I said with a nod. “Blonde, brunette, or redhead?”

  He kissed my cheek. “Smart mouths, the both of you,” he grumbled, though I got a wink. “Goodnight. Love you.”

  No sooner was he out of hearing range, did Scarlett stand, too. “I think I’m going to have an early night. Want to watch some mindless sitcom with me until we both fall asleep?”

  Before I could really think about it, I was shaking my head. For some reason, I didn’t want the comfort of my sister’s company tonight. Didn’t want to soak up the love that we had for each other and let it heal whatever the hell Adrian had broken in me today. I wanted to let the pain fester, to relive every amazing moment I had spent not only in his arms, but especially the moments where we had just talked and gotten to know each other.

  But … I hadn’t really gotten to know him, I realized as I followed Scarlett upstairs, each of us going to our separate bedrooms. I had told him about myself, almost everything except for my illness, yet we hadn’t talked about him even once.

  I had been so caught up in soaking in simply being with him that I never once realized he might have kept me talking so he didn’t have to tell me about himself.

  As I entered my room, my phone made an angry noise. Figuring it was either my brother or Allegra, maybe even Dante annoying me, I crossed to my bed and fell across it as I lifted the phone from my nightstand. If I had taken my phone down to dinner, Papa would have only sat and glowered at me until I took it back to my room.

  Sighing, I swiped my thumb across the screen to see who had texted me. Seeing the name of the sender, my heart did a somersault in my chest. I jerked upright, my fingers shaking ever so slightly.

  The screen was overflowing with so many messages I had to scroll down several times to finally get to the first one.

  Come to me.

  The first twenty or so messages were all the same, each sent less than a minute apart. Even though they were the same three words over and over again, I read each of them, picturing his darkly handsome face twisted with pain and anxiety that I hadn’t replied to him.

  After the first twenty, the messages changed tone. I could imagine his face growing angry as his desperation to get me to answer intensified.

  Come to me or I will come to you.

  What the hell did that mean? He would come to me? He couldn’t come there. He didn’t know the layout, didn’t know the guards’ schedules. If he tried to get in here, he would be shot. I couldn’t let him do that. Couldn’t let him get hurt or killed because of me.

  I rushed to the window, trying to see out into the darkness of the night.

  He was reckless; I at least knew that much about him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he really did try to come for me.

  Even as I worried for him, a thrill went through me that he wanted to see me so badly that he would risk getting shot to do so.

  Dammit.

  After watching for any sign of change outside for a long while, I turned angrily away and headed for my closet. There was no way I was going to go to him in the yoga pants and old T-shirt I was wearing. Fuck that. If I had to see him, then I was going to be dressed in something that would make him wish he could be with me. Something that would make him beg for my forgiveness and pray to God that he could have one more chance with me.

  As I stepped into my favorite heels—a sexy pair of Jimmy Choo’s that screamed “fuck me,” or so Scarlett had described them when I had first bought them—two more messages came in rapid fired.

  I l
ifted my phone, half-expecting him to tell me he was about to climb the damn wall outside the compound.

  Victoria …

  … please.

  Chapter 4

  Adrian

  I could hear the ticking of the clock like it was a countdown to the moment I drew my last breath. With each tic-tic, I felt like I was going to explode with all the emotions swirling inside my head. Not even when I had been in prison had I counted the passing hours until I was free.

  Prison wasn’t supposed to be easy, but for me, it had mostly been a kind of vacation away from work. Fuck, it was the Ritz Carlton compared to the time I had spent inside the walls of the prison in St. Petersburg. I wouldn’t willingly go back, however, and I would fucking kill anyone who tried to make me.

  Which was how I had ended up behind bars in the first place, thanks to a few perfectly placed snitches from my enemies.

  Neither time had the passing of each minute bothered me as it was right then.

  Victoria hadn’t texted me back, not once. There hadn’t been a single reply to the twenty plus messages I had sent. Fuck. Maybe I deserved the punishment she was inflicting, but I was going to lose what was left of my sanity if I didn’t hear from her soon.

  If she didn’t text me in the next two minutes, I was going over there. Damn the consequences. If I couldn’t get past the gate, I would sneak inside.

  I had a few inside men within Vitucci’s army, so it wouldn’t have been hard to get past the guards at the wall and into the house. I had stolen my way into more heavily guarded places than that compound from the time I was ten, and I hadn’t had the incentive I had right then to get to the one thing I wanted more than life.

  The ticking of each passing second echoed inside my head, counting down the two minutes I had given her. Muttering a curse under my breath, I then picked up my keys and hit the call button for the elevator. That stubborn little minx knew how to push my buttons.

  I heard the arrival of the elevator and clenched my hands into fists as I waited for it bypass the floor below then stopped on mine.

  Klara and Theo had the floor below, and neither were allowed up here. Theo was a good kid, but I didn’t trust his mother not to use him to get up here, as well. She wasn’t someone I trusted. I despised that little bitch. There wasn’t anyone on the face of the earth whom I hated more than her.

  I was growing more and more impatient as the elevator doors seemed to take forever to open. Earlier, its swiftness had irritated me, because it had meant that my time with Victoria was over. Now, it couldn’t come quick enough, because it was keeping me for her that much longer.

  Finally, the doors opened completely, and I blew out a frustrated breath. But before I could take a step inside, the red-headed beauty who had been taking up every inch of my mind was stepping forward.

  Relief flooded me as my eyes hungrily devoured the sight of her. I had only seen her a matter of hours before, yet it had felt like days.

  Her hair was in a twist, pulled to the left side of her neck, thick curls cascading over her shoulder. Her makeup was flawless, and her dress … Fuck, that dress.

  My body hardened just looking at her, my fingers itching to get her out of that damn thing as quickly as humanly possible so no one ever had the privilege of seeing her as I was seeing her right then.

  There was an angry twist to her glossy lips as she stood before me, her eyes full of a banked fire that made me ache to touch her.

  “You have ten minutes,” she snapped as she stepped around me and deeper into my living room. “I have plans for later.”

  “With your sister?” I found myself demanding, jealousy twisting me like a pretzel as my eyes remained glued to her ass. Fuck me, but the curve of her hips was sheer perfection, as if some god had created her himself, to make men crave her. To destroy the world with just the sight of her walking away.

  “No,” was all she said as she turned to face me once again. She caught me staring at her ass and crossed her arms over her chest.

  The front view of that damn dress was just as exciting as the back. The cut went down to her naval, showing me that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I didn’t know how the fuck that dress was staying perfectly in place over her breasts, but it made me want to rip it off her that much more, just to discover what kind of sorcery was doing it.

  “Who?” I growled before I could stop myself.

  My jealousy doubled as I imagined her going out alone in that dress. Of one faceless sonofabitch after another danced with her, talked to her. Touched her.

  Touched what was mine.

  “You have nine minutes now,” she told me in a cold voice, those fiery brown eyes shooting angry flames at me. I wasn’t blind to the fact she hadn’t answered my question. “Start talking, Adrian, or I’m walking away right now.”

  “That dress should be illegal,” I grumbled, raking both hands over my face. “What the fuck are you doing out in something like that?”

  Her brows arched as her forehead scrunched into a frown. “Eight minutes.”

  “Eight and a half,” I corrected her, thrusting my hands into the pockets of my slacks.

  “Eight,” she argued, that sassy look on her face making my cock ache to push it into her tight body. “I took off an extra thirty seconds just for being a dick.”

  She wasn’t going to make this easy on me; that was for sure. I loved her spirit, but right then, I wanted her to bend to my will. Just a little.

  All evening I had been going over what I would tell her, how I would handle this meeting if I got to see her again. Now, with her standing in front of me, looking like Aphrodite come to life, all those things I wanted and needed to say evaporated from my mind.

  As the seconds ticked down, I still couldn’t find the right words to set things right for us.

  She made a pained sound and turned away from me. “I guess I’m the only one who thought this was something special,” she muttered as she walked over to the huge window that overlooked the city. “I thought we had a shot at something amazing, that I could trust you with my heart.”

  The pain and hurt I heard in her voice was enough to release the paralytic hold on my vocal cords. “We do have something special, kotyonok. You are special to me.” I crossed to her in only a handful of steps, reaching out for her, then grasping each side of her waist and pulling her back against me. “Don’t give up on us, Victoria. Don’t let someone who doesn’t know the whole story tear apart what we have.”

  For a few, precious moments, she let me hold her, before she stepped forward and turned to face me. “I don’t know the whole story. I don’t even know why you can’t be with me. I want answers, Adrian. I need them. P-please.”

  I didn’t want to tell her, didn’t want to cause her more pain. I knew she deserved to know, but I was too fucking selfish to let her go yet. Because, I knew if I told her about Klara, she would walk out of my life then and there. No, I couldn’t chance that yet. Wouldn’t.

  “There isn’t anything in the world that could keep us from being together. Ever.” I caught her hands and brought them to my chest, pressing her palms flat against my heart. “I am yours, kotyonok. Now and always. For now, let that be enough.”

  “But …”

  I swooped down, covering her lips with my own, stopping whatever words were about to come from that sinful mouth of hers. She tasted like the sweet juices of a freshly picked peach, which matched the color of her glossy lips.

  I kissed her long, deeply, and hard, needing to show her that we were supposed to be together rather than just telling her. She needed the proof, and there was no better way to show her than to brand her with a kiss.

  I felt her fingers twisting in my shirt, her nails biting into my flesh through the material as she pulled me in even closer. Her mouth opened, offering me the freedom to explore.

  It was several minutes later before I could bring myself to lift my head. We were both having difficulty breathing, and she had me
lted against me as if she didn’t have the strength to hold herself up.

  “I don’t know who told you, but it’s a mistake,” I murmured against the top of her head. Her thick, red hair smelled like daisies. I breathed the scent in deeply, holding it inside me, soothing all the fury and anxiety I’d had about her and us all day. “They know nothing of the truth. No one does. Just have a little faith in me, Victoria. I will tell you everything soon, but for now, just trust me.”

  She was quiet for a long moment, but her hands didn’t remain still. She pushed them up under the back of my T-shirt, gently stroking her nails up and down my spine, attempting to distract me—and herself. This, too, I soaked up, savoring the feel of her touch.

  Finally, she lifted her head, that fire of hers banked deeply in her brown eyes. “Okay, Adrian. I’ll trust you … for now.” Her mouth tilted up in a sassy smirk that I didn’t even try to keep from kissing.

  With a growl that felt like it was being torn from the deepest part of myself, I swooped in for a kiss even as I lifted her into my arms. She snaked her hands around my neck, combing her fingers through my hair, as she kissed me back with everything she had. Then she wrapped her legs around my waist, and before I knew it, we were on the couch, in exactly the same position we had been earlier.

  I pulled the skirt of her dress up over her hips, then found the sides of her lacy panties and ripped the delicate material apart, leaving her dripping pussy bare for my eyes.

  Before Victoria, I would have said pussy was pussy. Now that I was looking at hers, seeing how wet she was for me, I knew there was a huge difference. Nothing had ever gotten me harder, made my mouth water more, than looking at how much her body was begging for me.

  With one hand, I spread her pussy lips, revealing her pretty pink clit. With the other, I teased my knuckles up and down her slit, torturing us both. A few drops of her essence fell onto my fingers and I lifted them to my lips, sucking away what she had just given me.