Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 1)

Last night feels like a dream. I can’t believe what happened was real. I dug my fingers into a man’s shoulder and pulled out a bullet.

I should feel like a badass because it was completely badass. But that the scent of burning flesh is still embedded in my nostrils.

“Are none of these rings to your liking?” Carmine asks, pulling me out of my thoughts and pointing toward to jewelry case.

He rented out an entire jewelry store, and Gianni and Victor are outside the doors. The only people inside are me, Carmine, and the salesman.

“What?” I blink at him, pushing the memory of Ari screaming from my head.

The muscle in his cheek jumps with annoyance as he marches over to me.

“We are doing this,” he grits. “We are getting the rings, getting married, and then we will go to your evening class. That’s the schedule for the day.”

“I don’t want to look at rings, Carmine.” I keep my voice low, so the salesman won’t hear me.

Carmine scratches his nose and gives the salesmen a kind head tilt before crowing at me, towering over my small frame. “That’s too bad, Delilah. This is the agreement. You agreed to wear my ring, and I expect you to live up to our agreement. Do you understand?”

“So, pick any of them for all I care. Just because I wear it, it doesn’t mean it means anything.”

We hold eye contact, neither of us looking away, neither of us backing down.

“I guess the man from last night is gone,” I say.

“The man from last night doesn’t exist,” he replies. “Not right now, and very rarely will he ever make an appearance. That ring might not have meaning now, but it will.” He grips my arm and tugs me closer. “But you’ll learn to love me, Delilah.”

Maybe last night was a dream. Maybe the memory of him washing me, taking care of me and speaking to me with such tenderness was something I made up in my head. This man was completely different from the one who brushed my hair last night then held me until I fell asleep.

What happened to him?

“Pick a ring,” he says, again. “Any ring you want.” His dark, husky tone lightens, and he cups my face. His touch sends a spark across my nervous system, reminding me of how he makes me feel.

And why he is right.

One day, I’ll learn to love him. It’s inevitable. He’s that guilty pleasure that I shouldn’t indulge because I’ll want to keep returning for more once I do.

He’s that regret too. The one where I’d wake up the next morning, asking myself what the hell I did? If it weren’t for the contract, he’d probably be the guy who kicked me out of his bed half-dressed. He wouldn’t care about me otherwise.

Then, I’d be the girl who always thought about the mean guy who gave her the best sex of her life.

He’s a complete asshole and arrogant. His mood swings are like night and day.

It’s a vicious cycle—he’s a vicious cycle.

And this ride with him is going to be the death of me.

“Any ring will do. I don’t care.” I bump my shoulder against his before walking up to the counter and look over the extensive selection of diamond rings. I point to one randomly. “This one’s fine.”

He peers over my shoulder and growls in disapproval. “It’s too small.”

“Why does it matter? It’s a ring. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“You’re acting like a brat.” His fingers curl around my wrist again. At this point, he might as well make them a bracelet.

“And you’re acting like an ass,” I hiss.

The salesman clears his throat, reminding us that we are not alone. “Perhaps another time would be better, Mr. Milazzo?”

. “Now. Not tomorrow, not next week, or next month. Now!” He slaps the glass display case with his palm, and I jump. He spins to me. “We had an agreement.” His words are laced with anger. “You are breaking that agreement. I don’t know why you are being so difficult—”

“I don’t know why you’re being such an ass.”

“Because you’re being hardheaded.”

“And you’re a controlling asshat, but here we are, getting nowhere, as usual. I don’t know how this is going to work. Maybe…maybe we go to a clinic and have the pregnancy happen that way.”

“What did you just say?” he pushes me against the glass, arms bracing either side of me, and he looks over my shoulder at the salesman. “Get. Out.”

“Yes, Mr. Milazzo.”

I hear the rustle of footsteps and a door closing behind me. Carmine presses forward, and I lean back to get away from him. He wraps that damn hand around my throat again.

I’m becoming all too familiar with the feel of him around me and threatening my existence.

It shouldn’t feel so damn good.

“Repeat that, Sweetling. Repeat what you just said.”

“I said we are getting nowhere. As usual.”

“No, not that.” His thumb presses against my airway, not hard enough to impact my breathing but I feel the pressure. “You know exactly what I am talking about.”

“I said you were being an asshat.”

“An asshat?” he repeats. His thumb slides up my neck and rests on my bottom lip. “Explain that to me.”

My eyes flutter when his fingers dig into the back of my neck, and his other hand grips my right hip.

“Tell me,” he rumbles.

“It’s when a person is an ass so often, it’s as if they wear an ass as a hat they can’t seem to take off.”

“Take off?” His lips inch toward mine.

My breath catches and my heart thrums. A warm buzz hums just under my skin. With his knee, he forces my legs apart and stands between them. Every time he inches closer, the heat taking over me becomes a few between my thighs, and I’m wet.

I ache for him, for when he’s close like this.

“The asshat. When you take it off, you’re a different person, but when you leave it on—”

“I rule an entire city, Delilah. I have a kingdom, an empire, and I am at war. I have to wear this hat you speak of because kindness doesn’t win wars.”

“You’d be surprised the power kindness holds.”

“Not between enemies. Not between threats. Pressure builds; it’s always there, isn’t it?” His hand slides from my hip to my thigh. He tilts my head back and exposes my throat, bending down and skimming his lips across the column. He doesn’t kiss me. He antagonizes me, forcing me to feel the scratch of the stubble along his cheek and the soft caress of his lips. “It builds and builds, the pressure reaching new heights.”

I whimper, and the bastard smirks against my throat.

“Until it explodes.” He backs away, leaving me flushed and aroused.

He doesn’t bother hiding his arousal. He shows it off, liking that I can’t seem to take my eyes off his cock. “Pick out a ring. One that isn’t embarrassing, Sweetling. And then I’ll think about taking the hat off.”

“Tempting,” I answer, finally turning around to look at the rings.

He dips his head and smirks, rubbing his mouth with his hand. The expensive Rolex on his wrist shines against the light, and I’m reminded that with money comes power and control.

He has all three.

I run my fingers across the glass, staring at all the rings. He wants me to wear a big diamond? I’ll pick the biggest damn diamond I see.

“That one.” I point.

“Excuse me?” Carmine shouts to get the attention of the salesman.

“Are we ready, sir?” the guy pokes his head out from the other room with a smile. He skips with an energy I’ve never had before and clasps his hands in front of him.

“Yes, we are ready,” Carmine states, standing next to me to see which ring I am pointing to. “Really?” he huffs, placing his hand on my lower back. “You’re being very stubborn, Ms. Reynolds.”

I scoff, pointing at the large, hideous diamond. “You wanted big; I picked out big. Isn’t it to your liking? Who is being difficult now?” I cross my arms and arch my brow.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Sweetling. You and I both know you went for the ugliest ring you could find. Get the ugliest fucking diamond in the world, one you hate. One day, you’ll look at that ring and love it.”

I roll my eyes, unravel my arms and tap my nails on the glass. “And why would I love it?”

“Because one day, you’ll look at it and realize how beautiful it is, how beautiful we will be. You’ll love it because not only will you love us, but you will love me. So, pick the ugliest ring you want. It won’t change the inevitable.” He leans down and brushes his lips across mine for the first time today, and the action makes me hold my breath.

“And if I got the pretty one?” I ask him and then swallow, trying to hold in how much he affects me.

“Then, one day, it will match what you feel for me. One day.”

“So optimistic. I’ll take that one, please,” I say, knowing he expected me to pick the pretty one.

“Embarrassing,” he mumbles, placing his hand in a steeple position against his mouth.

“What does it matter? As long as it will have meaning for us one day?” I hold out my hand, and the salesman slides it onto my finger.

“A perfect fit.”

Carmine sounds shocked, but he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles as if he were a gentleman.

We know better.

“You were the beauty it needed, Sweetling,” he says.

As much as I got the ring out of spite, the more I look at it, the more I like it. The band is too wide, but it’s a gorgeous gold, and the diamond is huge and awkwardly set.

I do love it.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper, the entire ring changing before my eyes.

“I’m glad.” Carmine slaps down a piece of paper, and the moment is ruined when I see what it is.

A marriage license.

“I thought we had to go to the courthouse for this.”

Carmine signs his name and hands me the pen. “Anything can be done for the right price. You, of all people, should know that.”

His words make me feel like a whore, and before I can calm myself, I pull back my hand and slap him across the face. Tears sting my eyes.

“Looks like you can’t leave the hat off for long, can you?” I scribbled my name on the paper, signing away my life.

I’m married to the Devil.

And no amount of money can change that.