Savage Lover: A Dark Mafia Romance (Brutal Birthright Book 3)

As a prisoner, I’ve been keeping myself busy enough with playing tennis in the morning with a quiet, withdrawn Sophie, taking self-defense classes with a reluctant Cass in the afternoons, then helping the cooking staff make dinner for us every night. Occasionally, I’ve ventured down to the spa for another massage, manicure, pedicure, facial, or wax since it’s on Dante’s dime.

The mafia king and I still sleep in bed together with pillows between us. I swear he sighs his frustration with me a little louder each night before he flops over on his side and goes to sleep.

I haven’t been back down to the strip club since that night out of shame and because I’m still furious with Gavin. Too furious to even confront him yet.

I’ve been telling myself that it’s better to concentrate on my anger with Gavin instead of Dante since I’m stuck with the latter.

Whether I like it or not, bills are coming due, so I used the credit card Dante left me in the bedroom for me to stay on top of them.

The one expense I don’t have to pay is Cole’s tuition for next semester since Dante already covered it for some unknown reason.

I’ve barely heard anything from Cole by text message lately, so I decide to check in on him with a phone call he probably won’t answer. At least I can hear his voice when his voicemail picks up.

The line rings and rings, until I hear, “Hi, Mom.”

I wait a beat for the rest of the joke on the recording, something like, “Just kidding. You’re the only one who calls me so leave a message and I’ll call you back if you insist.”

“Mom? Are you there?” he asks.

“Sorry, I thought I got your voicemail.”

He chuckles, sounding like a normal, happy twenty-year-old college kid. It’s all I ever wanted for him. Everything I’ve done has been for him. “Did you call just to nag me for not calling?”

“No. I just wanted to talk to you, hear your voice rather than see a one-word, abbreviated text message like I’m an old girlfriend you’re trying to ghost.”

“I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been busy. I sleep, I work, I go out with my friends.”

“Hopefully you also find time to eat, especially before you start drinking with your friends.”

“Yes, Mother. I eat too.”

“Junk food no doubt.”

“Food is food.”

I heave a heavy sigh. “No, it’s not.”

“Agree to disagree. I’ll worry about my cholesterol when I’m old,” he says. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’m coming home next month.”

“Coming home?” In a month I’ll still be here, playing house or whatever insane game this is with Dante.

“Yeah, some guys from high school I haven’t seen since graduation are planning a trip to Vegas, so I told them I would join them. And don’t worry, they’re not crashing with us or anything. I know Mitchell would flip. They wanted me to ask about your employee discount before making reservations at the Royal Palace. If we stay there, then I can come see you in the lounge.”

“Ah, I can send you my employee code for the discount, but I’m not working in the lounge right now.”

“You quit?”

“No, not exactly. And I won’t be at the apartment either when you get home. Mitch and I broke up. He’s in the process of moving out.”

“Good. I hated that prick,” he immediately responds.

“What? I thought you liked him.”

“Ah, no. I just tried to be civil because you liked him for whatever reason I couldn’t fathom.” Wow, my son sounds so much like Dante it’s a little scary. “Where have you been staying while he gets his shit out? And why won’t you be back in the apartment by next month?”

“Well, it’s a long story that I know you don’t want to hear. The short version is that I’m staying with a friend at the Royal Palace, actually.”

Cole doesn’t speak for a long moment. “A guy friend?”

“Yes.”

He chuckles. “Wow, Mom. Already moving on from Mitchell? That didn’t take long.”

“It’s not like that. We’re just…friends, and he insisted I stay here for a while.”

“Even after Mitch is out?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, it’s a long story you don’t want to hear.”

“So, who is this guy? Do you work with him at the Palace? Why is he living out of a hotel room?”

Of course, the one time I don’t want him to delve into a deep conversation before hanging up on me, he asks a million questions.

“He’s not renting a room. Dante sort of owns the whole casino.”

“Owns it? Holy shit. Did you say Dante? As in Dante Salvato? You’re with Dante Salvato, the mobster mogul guy?”

“I’m not with him. We’re just friends.”

“Just friends with the rich mob boss you’re living with in his casino. Yeah, right. That’s badass, Mom.”

My son hated the normal guy I dated and is impressed by the thought of me dating a gangster. This is why I worry about him while he’s so far away, going to college in New York.

“Can I stay there next month when I come home?” Cole asks.

“You want to meet him?”

“Definitely. He owns a ton of properties, right?”

Cole is studying business administration and wants to get an MBA because he eventually wants to run his own business.

“I don’t know if you staying here is a good idea. Besides, you’ll have the whole apartment to yourself.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be there.”

“True,” I agree. “I’ll talk to Dante…” I trail off.

“Yeah, Mom, talk to the multi-millionaire and see if I can have a sleepover. You’re with a rich guy when we scrape pennies to get by. That’s so crazy.” I wince at the reminder of how poor Cole grew up thanks to me and my single, minimum wage income. “And you’re not working right now?”

“No. At least not while I’m staying with him.” I’m going to have to find a new job after my time with Dante is over. There’s no doubt about that. And I hate starting over.

“Good. Enjoy your vacation,” Cole says. “What do you do all day? Sit around the pool drinking cocktails?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see his place. It’s a penthouse, right? At the top of the casino?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna look it up online,” he says, followed by a long silence. Then, “Holy shit! The penthouse is worth like, thirty million dollars!”

“I’m not surprised. It’s…impressive.”

“We should FaceTime next time so you can give me a tour.”

“Maybe,” I say, not sure how I feel about wandering the halls of Dante’s house showing it off to my son.

“I better go get ready for work. Tell me more later, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree. “I love you. Stay safe.”

“Love you too,” he replies before ending the call.

Later that night, once Dante and I are both settled into bed, the room pitch black, I can hear and feel Dante breathing in my direction on the other side of the pillow wall.

“Could I make a request?” I ask in the silence.

“Let’s hear it.”

“My son, Cole, is coming home next month, while I’m still required to be here.”

“And you want a pass to leave?”

Why didn’t I think of that? God, this man really does mess with my head. “No. I was wondering, he actually asked, if he could maybe stay here too? At the hotel? Not necessarily the penthouse.”

“You told him about us?” Dante asks, his voice lifting in surprise.

“I told him I was staying here with you.”

“And what did he think about that?”

“Apparently, he looks up to you. As a businessman, not a mobster. He wants to run his own company, be in charge of his own business someday.”

“Ambitious.”

“Yes. There’s no way but up from the lifestyle he grew up in.”

“I’m sure you did your best, made up for what money couldn’t buy with loving him.”

“I tried.”

“He can come see you anytime he wants while you’re here. But he’s not sleeping near my daughters.”

“Of course not.” I snort. “He’s a twenty-year-old boy. All they’re capable of thinking about is sex.”

“That’s not just a characteristic of a twenty-year-old. It’s what men of all ages think about every second of the day. The longer we go without, the more volatile we become.”

“No kidding,” I reply with a smile.

“And yet you still deny me, even though I grow crankier by the day without a release?”

A smile lifts the corners of my lips. “I’m certain you’ll survive.”

Dante groans, then I feel the mattress shift as he flops over, facing away from me.

It shouldn’t make me happy to have such an effect on the mafia king, but it does. Staying with him hasn’t been as bad as I imagined. In fact, tormenting him by rejection is fun.

I hate to admit it, even to myself, that lying in his bed beside him, in the top of his crooked ivory tower, I’ve never felt safer.