Indebted to the Mafia King

Eleni

Mama leans away from the stove, where she's somehow managed to gather the ingredients for what she's calling "Italian Souvlaki" and meets my gaze. "We have to buy those tickets soon, zouzouni."

I look down at the cucumber I'm grating for tzatziki. Three days have passed since I made my decision, and I still haven't told her. I don't know how. I know Mama should go, but I've never been away from her. She still wakes up in the middle of the night, shaking and muttering Baba's name. How can I look her in the eye and tell her that justice will only come to our family if she leaves alone? That I've let myself get roped into the same life that killed Baba?

"I have to go to the bathroom," I say.

She nods. "Just leave the cucumber by the sink. I'll squeeze it if you're not back in time."

I scurry out of the room without meeting her eye. Maybe, if I can actually get my thoughts in order, I can tell Mama tonight. She's in a better mood than she has been, and I caught her humming her wedding song without crying earlier. "...so I think we should widen the radius," Tony says.

I freeze. The ornately carved door to what I've come to realize is Dante's office stands slightly ajar, something I've never seen in my days here.

"Do we have the bodies for that?" Dante asks. "I'd rather not waste time going back over places we thought we cleared."

My breath catches. I don't know what they're talking about, but I can tell it's mafia business. Which includes me now.

Tony murmurs something too low for me to hear, and then Dante appears in the crack of the door wearing another all-black suit. I stare up at him, half expecting the same dangerous heat to his voice I heard in his bedroom. Listening in like this has to be against the rules.

Instead, Dante opens the door wider. "Do you need something?"

I step back. "No, I don't want to interrupt-"

"Don't be ridiculous." He holds the door for me, motioning for me to come inside.

But I hesitate, my hand on the doorknob as I watch Dante cross the room.

He sits in a beautiful leather chair behind a wide, wooden desk with the same intricate carvings as the door. "We were just wrapping up. Tony, make the call, let me know when it's done." Tony glances at me, and I think I see some emotion flicker in his eyes before he nods to his don and leaves. I have no choice but to step in and shut the door behind me.

Like so many of the other rooms in Dante's house, the luxury is overwhelming up close. What looks like a small office holds not only the beautiful desk and chair, but a few bookshelves stuffed with everything from modern thrillers to crisp nonfiction to faded novels that look like they'd fare better in a museum. Along one wall is a fireplace made of the white marble that covers the kitchen, which Gianna whispered to me the other day was called Carrara, like that was a name I should recognize. A low, dark fainting couch lounges in front of the unlit fireplace, and an armchair that looks like a smaller version of Dante's own sits in front of his desk. After a moment of deliberation, I take the armchair. "So"-he steeples his fingers-"What can I do for you?"

"I need to buy Mama a ticket to Greece," I blurt.

"No, you don't." He taps a few keys and turns one of the monitors on his desk to face me. "I've got it handled. She leaves on my jet in three days with an armed escort. Parikia, right?"

I blink. "What?"

"You said she'd be safer in Greece." He leans closer, and I catch a whiff of his woodsy cologne.

My mind whirls instantly back to the shooting range, when that smell nearly overwhelmed me. His hand was so warm on my stomach, even through my shirt, and I want to know what those hands would feel like on my skin. But he keeps backing away. That could've just been the best way to teach a beginner like me to shoot. He might not have meant anything.

"Thank you," I say. "Please, let me pay you back."

He waves a hand dismissively. "You're a Saint now. I take care of my people."

But he doesn't look at me when he says it. Instead, his attention is already back on the other monitor, and I can't help but wonder what's on there.

"Mama's making Italian Souvlaki," I say. "If you want some."

He nods. "Can I do anything else for you?"

The question stings like a dismissal. I stand to leave, and he looks up at me. His dark eyes burn with a fire that could turn me to ashes. His gaze saunters down to my lips and back. Surely, he meant something. Surely, I should say something. I open my mouth.

And the words catch on my tongue. I'm not this kind of girl. He's a boss, and he already probably thinks me forward. I shut my mouth again.

Dante leans back. "A thought for a thought?"

"What?" I ask, embarrassingly breathless. I need to get control of myself.

"I'll tell you what I'm thinking if you tell me what you just chose not to say." He stands and strolls around his desk to lean on the front.

I nod, shove down years of trying to keep men's eyes off of me, and speak. "I was going to ask about the shooting range. About...the way you touched me."novelbin

His smile is warm and dangerous. "See, I was thinking how much I regret not taking you up on your offer at the auction."

My breath catches, and he seems to watch the movement in my chest.

"What are you thinking now?" he asks.

"That I shouldn't be thinking about your hands on my waist," I whisper. "That I shouldn't be dreaming about that kiss at the auction."

"Because I'm a boss?" He prowls a step forward.

I dodge around the chair and step back. "Yes."

"And bosses are dangerous." It's not a question, but the smirk on his lips makes me certain he's teasing.

"You're dangerous." I take another step back. "And you're not just any boss, you're my boss."

His lips tick up in a delighted smile. "There you go again, wanting me to own you."

I swallow. I didn't mean that. I think. My next step knocks the backs of my knees against the fainting couch, and Dante catches me the moment before I fall with an arm around my waist. "Can I kiss you?" he murmurs.

My own warnings echo in my ears, but I just stare up at him. This close, his face isn't perfect anymore. I can see the bump in his nose where it was broken, a thin scar running from his upper lip to his ear. They only make him more human. "You can do whatever you want," I reply. "You bought me."

He shakes his head indulgently. "I want to hear you say yes, El."

My blood turns to fire in my veins, and my knees go weak. I'm in the arms of a man who could destroy me without a thought, and he wants my permission to kiss me when I've been throwing myself at him for a week.

"Yes."

He brushes his lips over mine, feather-light, and I push myself up into him. Something ignites. He devours my mouth like I'm the last meal he'll ever eat. I gasp as he sinks his teeth into my lower lip, and I realize what I thought was fire before was only smoke, a promise of the raging inferno Dante could ignite in me. He lifts me and lays me down on the fainting couch, then kneels between my splayed knees. My skirt rucks up to nearly my thighs, and I can't bring myself to care. "I said a thought for a thought." Dante stares down at me with a wicked hunger in his eyes. "You gave me two, and I don't like being in people's debts."

My breath races as he trails his gaze down my body to my exposed legs.

"I've been thinking I can't go another day without knowing what you taste like."