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Stolen by the Mafia
Lonely mafia princess with too many daddy issues seeking nice guy next door.
Yeah right. Not even in my wildest dreams could I live the fantasy small-town life. I tried to run away from who I am and now I’m the captive of a ruthless mafia man who swears my father killed his.
And it’s probably true.
But right now, I’m more worried about all the dark, dirty promises my brute pirate whispers he’ll do to me once he has me on his boat.
He says if I try to run, he’ll hunt me down because I’m payment for sins against his family, his captive. And I fear, his utter obsession.
And I know he’ll stop at nothing until I’m his in every way.
One
Serenity
I'm not going to lie. I have come to the sunshine state with every intention of committing at least three sins that will land me firmly in hell.
Salty warm air licks across my hot skin and I shiver a little in my lounge chair. My fingers dig into my beach towel and I marvel as tiny drops of ocean water run down my overheated skin. My mind slides into a fantasy of those caresses down my thighs and over my belly being the touches of a secret lover. Someone to bring me so much pleasure the heat inside me would rival the suns.
Memories of Sister Martha from my Catholic boarding school clutching her rosary to her chest and praying over me slips through my mind. I swallow my smile along with the last gulp of my piña colada. Unfortunately for the both of us, I’m everything Sister Martha ever dreaded: ornery, carefree, filled with wild abandon, and enough fantasies swimming in my head to get me into trouble every day of the week.
That’s from the outside looking in. But if anyone were to ever look closely, they’d see just how much I hate my life.
You see, this is the first real taste of freedom I’ve ever felt since I grew a pair of breasts and learned how to apply lipstick. Every step I’ve taken outside the walls of my home has been with three armed bodyguards who look like they suck lemons on their lunch breaks. You can imagine what that has done for every area of my life.
So I plan on soaking up every stolen minute of this escape on our private island resort in the Florida Keys because I know it won’t be long before my father burns the world down looking for me. Then back to his castle I go.
I raise my face up to meet the warm, late afternoon sunshine. Beams pour over me and I gladly let it drench every inch of my sun-starved body. I’ve been dreaming of this day for the past six months. And I swear on my last breath I can feel the thaw of this past winter finally melt away.Finally.
I slide my feet off either side of my lounge and dig my toes into the hot, moist sand and give a hearty sigh.
Behind my large sunglasses, my eyes are closed and I’m soaking in all the heat of the moment so I can take it with me for when I have to face my cold, stern father again.
My phone pings and I blindly scoot it across the small wooden table at my side. “Him again?” I ask Vannah, my best friend slash partner in crime, and cringe painfully when I get a reluctant, “Yep. Sorry babe. Wanna head back home?”
When I hatched the plan to ditch the annual family reunion--a farce for nefarious dealings my father wants to bring me in on--for a trip south, Vannah was the first to dive for our suitcases.
That was twenty-four hours ago.
A plain ride, a couple of Ubers, and a short water taxi and later here we are. Me forcing myself to relax and Vannah pushing every available fruity drink there is on the menu my way.
I pucker my lips at her question. “You know me better than that! I have every intention of absorbing so much sunlight I’ll practically glow from now ‘till Christmas. That will take at least two more days. Maybe a full week. I don’t know yet.”
What can I say? I have finally taken my life back from the controlling man who raised me and it feels so damn good. He thinks the second I leave the compound wolves will descend and that I’m some princess in need of a tower. Don’t get me wrong. I love the man, but he can’t keep me secluded away from the world forever just because of who he is and who that makes me. All I want is a girl's week away—me, my bestie, and a possible one-night stand with a handsome stranger who will make me feel things.
Then I’ll go back and be the dutiful, loving daughter of mafia kingpin Matthew Kingston who never steps out of line. For a while at least.
So far I’ve managed three things on my must-do list. Sand on my feet, coconut-scented sunscreen on my body, and fruity drinks with all the pineapple I can eat in my tummy.
Make those four things. The sound of waves crashing against the beach in my ears and nothing else.
None of which are the sins I’d hope to have committed by now.
I look up from my lounge chair to watch a sexy couple walk by holding hands and the piña colada I had for lunch sours in my stomach.
The one-night stand seems more and more like one of my fantasies rather than a dream come true so far.
