Captive of my mafia crush

Chapter 6

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“You’re a little different than I expected you to be, all grown up,” Christian says, smirking as he glances down at my stripper outfit, which is honestly not much more than skimpy underwear. I blush a sudden, horrible red.

“Oh my go d,” I murmur, hunching my shoulders and pulling myself closer to him, thinking that if I get closer he’ll have trouble seeing my entire body.

Not like he didn’t get a really good look at it earlier tonight. I groan in embarrassment.

“No, seriously!” Christian laughs, pulling back so he can see my face. “You look good, Iris. I’m glad to see that you still dance, even if…well, even if I imagined you in the national ballet, not the Glass Slipper.”

I sigh a little, shaking my head as I stare at him.

“Looks like we have a lot to catch up on, Chris,” I say, my voice still shaky.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, tucking my hair back behind my ear. “We’ve got time for that.”

Christian shifts me to the middle seat, still keeping an arm protectively around me as Frankie pulls our battered SUV into the parking garage in a high-rise apartment building. As Christian leans forward to direct Frankie where to park, I study his face.

Christian… the Mafia King? Honestly, how had I never put it together before?

I mean, I haven’t paid a ton of attention to our city’s politics and the mob wars that are raging right now-I

haven’t had time for it.

But, like everyone else, I’d seen photographs of the young Mafia King who taken such control of the Romano crime family in the past few months. It’s kind of a mocking title the media is using to suggest that he’s overthrown his father, though Antonio Romano is far from out of the picture.

As Frankie winds downwards through the levels of the parking garage, debating with Christian about how to hide the car so it won’t be seen, I wonder how I’ve been so st upid I mean, now that Christian has revealed his identity to me, I can’t not see it.

But how is it even possible? My brother Damon and I were devastated when Christian moved away in the middle of the night. But his mom said that he went to live in Canada…

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“We’re here,” Christian murmurs, startling me out of my reverie. He glances over at me as Frankie pulls into a spot on a mostly-empty lower level. Christian pitches his voice louder to the two guys in the front seat. “You guys do a sweep, all right? Make sure we weren’t followed.”

Frankie and the other one – I didn’t catch his name yet – murmur their assent and get out of the car, moving away into the parking garage.

Butterflies twist in my stomach as I realize that I’m alone with my childhood crush, who doubles as the Mafia King, I mean…how am I supposed to talk to him now? Is he my old friend or the violent crime lord?

“Are you all right?” Christian murmurs, leaning away for a moment and doing his best to look me up and down. I curl up again, still embarrassed to be so naked in front of him. “Did they hurt you in there?”

“I’m okay,” I say with a little shrug, even though my arms ache where those guys grabbed me.

“Where does it hurt?” Christian asks, reaching for me.

“Christian,” I breathe, brushing his hand away and looking up into his face. “How…what the hell is going on? How are you the Mafia King?”

His lips twist a little with chagrin. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he murmurs, and my anxiety twists an “That nickname is doing nothing good for the rivalry between me and my brothers-”

“Brothers!?” I cry, looking at him wide-eyed. “Christian! You’re an only child!”

A smile spreads over his face, crinkling his eyes in that way I remember. “I forgot how much you don’t know,” he sighs, running a hand through his brown hair, which naturally lightens at the ends. “Seriously, you never put it together, after seeing me on TV and in the tabloids?”

“No,” I breathe, shaking my head as I stare at him. “Also, you have a different name

“It’s not that different,” he says, frowning at me.

H

“Cristian Romano is very different from Christian Allen,” I say, tilting my head at him like it’s obvious.

“Well,” he says with a little smirk, “I knew immediately that it was you, even when the DJ introduced you as Bambi.”

A shocked little laugh stumbles from my mouth, and then I can’t help it-I tilt my head back and laugh harder. “I

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Chapter 6

can’t believe you found me in the strip club, Christian,” I murmur, looking up at the ceiling. “Not even Damon knows that I work there.”

“Well, lucky I did,” Christian says, and I pick my head up at the seriousness of his tone. “You got yourself into

some serious trouble, Daisy. What the hell does Riccardo Bonetti have on you?”

I sigh, staring into his eyes. “It’s kind of a long story. I sort of just found out about it tonight – I don’t know. everything yet.”

“All right,” Christian says, glancing towards the front window when a sharp whistle sounds. I look out to see Frankie waving us out of the car. “Well, you’ll have some time to sort it through here.”

1 frown at Christian as he grabs the handle of the door, popping it open.

“Wait,” I say, grabbing his shirt again. He turns back to me. “Aren’t you going to…take me home?”

But even as I say it, I realize that…I don’t have a home anymore. F ucking Steven sold me – there’s no place safe

to go

“No, Iris,” Christian says, his voice a little frustrated, “I’m not taking you home. You’re staying here.”

Something about the way he says it makes it very clear that my brother’s best friend is not offering me a safe place to stay for a night or two.

“Wait,” I say, my voice tentative, “you really did kidnap me!?”

PR

He smirks at me, the darkness I saw in the club returning to his face. “Yeah, Iris. And we deliberately made sure

that Bonetti’s men saw us do it.”

“Why!?” I stare at him, shocked.

“Iris,” Christian says, staring at me like I’m being incredibly naïve, “whatever Bonetti planned for you wasn’t good. We took you, and in doing so we claimed you. You’re under Romano protection now, but Bonetti is going to be pissed. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

My jaw drops open as I realize the import of his words. Christian – he’s protecting me but…I’m also kind of his

captive, aren’t I?

My eyes dart to the side – because I absolutely don’t know how I feel about this.

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Christian sighs and pushes the door all the way open, stepping out and shrugging out of his suit jacket.

I’m still staring at all of my money sca ttered on the floor of the car, trying to piece together my emotions, but I jump when the suit jacket lands in my lap.

“Come on,” Christian says, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

I bite my lip as I pull the too-large jacket over my arms and wrap it around my body. Christian reaches out a hand when I’m finished to help me get out of the car. But I just stare up at him, hesitating.

“Iris,” Christian murmurs, stepping close and studying my face. “What’s wrong? Are you…are you afraid of me?”

I stare up at him, wondering if maybe I am. I mean – this Christian, he is violent and powerful. He is not the boy I grew up with. But…

“No,” I say, the word falling from my mouth without me intending to say it. But as soon as it’s spoken, I know that it’s the truth. “I could never be scared of you, Christian.”

There’s a little glint in his expression as I slip my hand into his. “Maybe you should learn to be scared of me,” he murmurs as he helps me to my feet. “I’m not who I used to be.”

I stare at Christian as I stand fully up, studying his face as he studies mine, and I open my mouth to object. I step forward to tell him that I still see him there behind this mafia mask he’s putting up, but as soon as I shift my weight my knees buckle and my legs give out.

I pitch forward against Christian with a little shriek of surprise.

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