My main priority is for the debt to be restored, but who said I couldn’t have any fun while doing it? After all, I’m Dante Salvatore, mafia boss, and I do what I want. As long as I keep to the objective, I can have whatever fun with Serenity I desire.

  The deal I gave her was legitimate, though. I’m not interested in courting a woman or giving my kingdom to anyone. I need an heir. Someone bound by blood and legal papers. I have no family members here. Rico is my cousin, but we’re the same age, so that doesn’t help.

  We’re still searching for her father, but a child will make a suitable replacement.

  All night I lay there in my bed, wondering what it would be like to fill her tight pussy with my cum. It’s the first time I touched myself in months. I slide my hand under the sheet, and after a few tugs, I am coating my hand in oil and imagining Serenity riding my dick. Her tits swaying in my face, her hands on my chest as she moans and rolls her hips. It took thirty seconds before I was coming all over my hand and stomach. I’m not as satisfied as I hoped, but it’s enough to get me to fall asleep.

  I turn the page of the morning paper, reading the news in Las Vegas. I let others read the online news. I can’t be bothered. Staring at a computer screen, I make sure all the stories that mention any of my businesses are flattering at the very least. So far, we’ve done a good job of keeping Brockman’s debt out of the paper.

  Hearing footsteps in the hall, I look over my paper as Serenity stomps in with Mateo behind her. Her hair is a mess, probably hungover, and her face has that cute scowl. She’s wearing her clothes from last night.

  “I thought I told you to get her some clothes?” I scold Mateo, who looks confused.

  “I-um, sorry, sir. I must have forgotten.”

  I take a sip of my coffee and look back at the paper.

  “Get some,” I order, then I hear his shoes running down the hall.

  I look up from the paper for a second to see Serenity still standing, arms crossed and eyes unsure.

  “Serenity?”

  “What?” she spits.

  “Be a good girl and sit down.” I look up from the paper. “Now.”

  Serenity’s stomach grumbles and she stares at the food on the table. I know she doesn’t want to do what I tell her, but she can’t resist the food. She lets out a breath before shuffling to the empty chair opposite me.

  The chair makes scratching noises as she pulls in closer. I feel her foot brush against my leg, and we both look up. She looks embarrassed, and a blush runs up from her collarbone to her cheeks as she looks away.

  I can’t help but smile at that. I’m getting to her. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, a part of her wants me. When I told her to crawl to me, I saw it in her eyes. A flash of heat. A moment of consideration. But she’s too stubborn and independent to fall to my knees easily.

  Getting her to submit to me is not part of the plan. But something is pulling me toward her. Something that makes me want her on her knees worshiping my cock before I make her come more times than she can count.

  Perhaps there is room for both.

  She tentatively grabs a piece of toast and puts some butter and jam all over it before taking a bite. I watch her closely as she eats. Filling her belly with homemade bread and jam. Fresh butter and orange juice.

  I hand her the plate of eggs, and she looks at me nervously. I know kindness is not something that I often show, but I am capable of it.

  “Have you thought about my offer, Serenity?” I ask her, folding the paper and placing it on the table.

  She shuffles in her seat, a strand of dark hair falling over her face. She pushes it away as she folds her arms onto the table.

  “I thought about it. And I want to know more about it. I mean… babies. It’s not like buying a car.”

  Sitting across from her I mirror Serenity’s arms and lean forward, giving her my most charming smile.

  “Well, Bambola, I assume you know how babies are made. I won’t force you, so whenever you are ready…I will fuck my baby into you. Just know that you can’t leave until after you’ve given birth, so the amount of time you’re here will depend on you. I will get you all the finest doctors, and you'll have all the help you could possibly need to make sure that you are comfortable and this goes as smoothly as possible. And after the baby is born, you’re free to leave. Your debt to us is squared, and you'll never see us again.”

  Serenity takes a sip of her orange juices and starts to nod.

  “And if I say no?” she asks.

  “Then you’ll never leave.”

  Her eyes widen, her glass of orange juice stopping at those pouty lips.

  “You’re kidding?” She gasps.

  I shake my head.

  I don’t bother to tell her that we’re looking for her father, and when he shows up, she can leave. I want her to think she has no other options. I didn’t think about gaining an heir until she showed up, and now that I have, I can’t stop. Plus, I can’t imagine that her father still has the 150 thousand dollars, so someone will be paying with their body—or their life. And I’d rather the latter with Serenity.

  I lean back in my chair and watch as Serenity’s eyes look over my body. I didn’t bother putting on a shirt this morning. Her eyes graze over my chest, the fine hair and muscles. When her eyes reach my face, I see her blush, and she looks away. I smirk as the sun hits me right in the eyes.

  Her eyes follow me as I round the table, revealing my sweatpants and bare feet. I run my knuckles over her cheek. Her skin is so fucking soft I cup her entire jaw. I run my thumb over her bottom lip as she looks at me with dark eyes.

  “The things I would do to this mouth…” I whisper. She gasps. Before I can jump the gun, I release her. Breaking the tension in half.

  “I’m going to be around this morning, so I won’t put you back in your cage,” I say.

  “Whoopi,” she says sarcastically.

  I grip her hair at the base, pulling her head back. She gasps and paws at my hand around her throat.

  “I’d change that attitude of yours, Serenity. Most people can’t afford the opulence you currently have. And just as I give these luxuries, I can take them away.”

  “Like what?” she breathes heavily.

  I run my thumb over her pulse point before squeezing her throat gently.

  “Like breathing.”

  Serenity nods her head and swallows hard. My cock twitches as I feel her throat move under my hand.

  I release her, leaving her gasping.

  “Don’t leave the house, Serenity. You won’t like what happens if you do.”

  I leave the room, and I can feel her eyes watching me. I’ve piqued her interest, but Serenity is an intelligent girl. She isn’t going to just jump into bed with me. She needs some security. I have given her nothing but my word, and she doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know what I’m capable of or what it means to make a deal with me.

  I need to show her, somehow, that she can trust me to honor my deal.

  And I know just the person who can help me.

  Chapter 6

  Serenity

  I walk down the halls of the giant mansion I’m trapped in. There are bathrooms here that are bigger than my apartment. Closets I could live in.

  My skin still tingles from when Dante cupped my jaw. I run my hand down my cheek and over my lip, making me shiver. Images flash in my mind of when he wrapped his hand over my throat, and I shake them away.

  Something must be happening to me if I’m considering taking his offer. Give my body to him for over ten months, maybe a year or more?

  A few things cause me to hesitate. One, of course, is that the whole idea is incredibly crazy, but added to it is that I’m a virgin. Untouched by anyone, not even myself. I’ve gotten more action in the last two days than in my 29 years on this planet.

  I wonder what kind of an effect it would’ve on the deal. Would it sweeten it or make it worse? Some guys don’t like to fuck virgins. Sometimes, it makes them clingy or something. But Dante doesn’t look like he clings to anything but darkness. It follows him like a shadow.

  He could have light shining right at him, but then you look into his eyes and see two black irises staring back. I can’t imagine the things he’s seen, the life he’s led.

  You don’t get to be the head of a mafia by being a nice guy.

  I walk down the stairs leading to God knows where. I have nothing better to do but explore. Dante said nothing about me walking around where I wanted, other than outside.

  I hear something at the far end of the hall. As I get closer, I hear heavy breathing and a smacking sound.

  Oh, fuck please don’t tell me he’s getting laid. I don’t think I can stomach that.

  I walk into a large room that turns out to be a gym. There’s a boxing ring in the middle where Dante and another man are fighting. There’s also a man standing next to a pair of bells.

  Thank fuck.

  Dante has on a pair of blue shorts, shoes, and a sweaty T-shirt. He dances around the ring, sparring with a man about the same size as him. He’s entirely focused on his opponent and doesn’t notice I’m here.

  So I watch him.

  His arms and face are covered in sweat. Every punch causes his muscles to flex. I lean over what looks like a padded sawhorse and just stare. For some reason, his working out makes me think of sex. The way his body moves as he thrusts into me. Sweaty bodies crashing together, nails digging into his back, the sounds of sex ringing in the air. Dante breathing hard into my ear as he pumps his hips faster and faster until–

  A large bell rings, which breaks me out of the spell. I look up, and Dante is looking down at me with a grin on his face.

  “Care to join me, Bambola?” he asks, breathing heavily.

  “I-I…” I shake my head and back away. “No, no, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want a chance to punch me in the face?”

  The man in the ring with him is now standing next to me, holding a pair of small gloves, matching Dante’s.

  I take the gloves, remove my shoes, and bend over as I pass through the ring's ropes. When I look up, Dante is holding his bare hand out to me. I take it, and he pulls me up and forward, forcing my body flush against his.

  “Punching me in the face is breaking the rules, but I’m willing to make an exception,” he says with that grin on his face.

  Is he a masochist? Or maybe he thinks I can’t hit him?

  He helps me put on the gloves, and my body gets that same rush from when he touched me. I try to suppress my reaction, but the look of satisfaction on Dante’s face tells me he already knows he’s getting to me.

  With our gloves on, we part and start walking around the ring. Dante is on one side, and I’m on the other. I notice that the other men left, leaving me alone with Dante.

  Lord, help me.

  “Go,” he says, taking a few steps forward while I take a giant leap back.

  “Come on, Serenity. You won’t get another chance like this. Come at me.”

  I take a few steps forward and try hitting his glove. The slap as the rubber makes contact gives me the confidence to try again. So I hit again and got his glove.

  I punch forward and take a step forward, getting his forearm. I don’t imagine I’m doing much to hurt him, but I’m still getting this rush.

  We go back and forth, sometimes, he hits me, and sometimes I hit him. We block. We walk in circles. I can feel sweat running down my back.

  I go to hit him in the chest, and somehow, he grabs my arm and pulls me to him. We trip and fall to the ground. My chest collides with Dante as he cushions our fall. He grunts as he hits the floor and wraps his arms around me.

  Quickly, I move to get off him, but he holds me there, seated in his lap.

  We’re both breathing heavily, and I can feel the tension thicken. It’s been growing since we started to fight, but now it feels like you could cut it with a knife.

  Dante cups my cheek, then runs his finger down my neck and between my breasts until it gets to the patch of skin peaking out from under my shirt. For a dangerous man, he has a gentle touch. His thumb teases the skin just above my waistline and I shiver.

  I’m realizing that he’s a man of patience and precision. He doesn’t do things haphazardly. He’s always thinking ahead. In fact, my bet is that he’s still looking for my father, regardless of if I take his offer.

  Perhaps it would give me some time if I accepted it now. Something to keep him calm and think that he will get what he wants until I can figure out how to get out of here.

  “I’ll do it.”

  His brow quirks up. “Do what?”

  “I’ll have your baby. In exchange for the debt being settled.”

  A silent ring goes off somewhere in my mind. Round One has ended, and even though I’m literally on top of him, Dante has won. But only this round. Agreeing to the deal may give me some time—time to figure out an actual plan. He said he won’t take me without my permission. If I agree now, at least that buys me time, and he won’t be thinking of alternative ways to entrap me.

  He looks at me with a neutral expression. I can’t tell how he’s feeling other than the distinct way his eyes darken.

  “You sure about this, Serenity? You can't take it back once you make a deal with me.”

  I take a breath. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  He leans up on his elbows, his face so close to mine that I can feel his breath against my lips. For a moment, I think he might kiss me. Instinctively, I lick my lips, and his eyes shift. They bounce between my eyes and my lips, but the second I lean forward, the spell breaks as he turns and plops me onto the mat.

  “Good,” he says, getting up. “I’m going to talk with my accountant and my lawyer today. So, we’ll have everything set up.”

  The whole situation took a huge 180, and I feel like a blast of cool air hit the room, making me highly aware that I’ve given my body to the devil.

  I try to shake the lust out of my mind as I get up and step out of the ring.

  Dante reaches his hand out, and he nods to my gloves. I can’t tell if he’s disappointed I didn’t fight harder or if he’s upset he won’t get his money. Not that he would’ve before, anyway.

  “I’m going to schedule a doctor's appointment for you. She is a very good friend of mine and will understand our… situation.”

  “Okay,” I say softly.

  Dante gives me a curt nod and then leaves the room. Leaving me alone and aware of what I had just done.

  Fuck, I hope I made the right choice.

  Chapter 7

  Dante

  Serenity took the deal. There’s a part of me that can’t believe it. It’s been less than a day since I gave her the deal, and I gave it to her while she was drunk.

  I don’t trust how cut and dry this seems. She hasn't mentioned her father once—not about his safety or where he might be—so maybe she isn’t doing it for him. I didn’t think Serenity had a cold heart, but pain can cause you to do all sorts of things. Especially pain caused by a loved one. Someone who’s supposed to protect you and love you no matter what.

  Sitting at my usual table at The Mockingbird, one of the restaurants that I own, my hand grips my drink tight, my mind drifting off to my father and how he treated me. He created who I am. Designed me to be the ruler of his kingdom by whipping me into shape. He wanted a cold, heartless man at the helm. One who would not be swayed by anything.

  I suppose my attraction to Serenity would be a disappointment for him. He would take her father’s debt in blood, not caring whose blood it is. I have blood on my hands, though. I have taken lives for the family, but now I have the forethought of it making sense. Because taking someone’s life could be the first domino, and pushing one over could give you a lifetime of headaches.

  Downing the rest of my drink, I wave over the waitress for another, trying to drown out the memories of my father.

  I tap my table as I wait for Mark Vecchio and Jasper Cross to arrive. Mark is my lawyer, and Jasper is my accountant. Other than Rico and Massimo these two are my most trusted men. Though Rico is my family and loyal to me, these men have my back because they understand what happens if they put a knife into it.

  I check my watch when Vecchio and Cross finally show up.

  “Sorry, boss,” Vecchio says as he sits beside me in the booth, his wiry frame covered in a gray plaid velour sports jacket. Jasper, who has his usual white button-up and gray slacks, nods his apology and sits beside him.

  “What the fuck took you so long? I‘ve been here for over an hour.” Anger coats my words, and I try to take deep, calming breaths. I get testy every time I think about my father. Somehow, only when it comes to him, I can’t control my emotions.

  “Sorry again, Sir, it’s just that we’ve run into a problem.” Vecchio takes the bag off his shoulder and places it on the table.

  The waitress comes back with my drink and I say, trying to sound calm, “What problem?”

  “Well,” Cross says. “We got stopped on our way here by the Donnelleys.”

  Shit.

  The Donnelleys are another family here in Vegas. They expanded over from Chicago. Those guys are messy, mean, and creators of chaos. If my boys are being stopped by the Donnelleys, that can’t be good.

  “What happened?”

  Vecchio recounts the story.

  “We’re at the gas station when this town car comes up, and two of the biggest men I’ve ever seen come out. They come up to us, right? They ask if we know anything about Greg Brockman. We say no, obviously, and then they mention the daughter. They say that they’re looking for her because it turns out that Brockman got tangled with the Donnellys, and they’re looking for blood.”