You Can't Buy My Heart, Mr. Vitiello

lo Crime Family to settle a thr

property. I warmed his bed, tended his w

ning my freedom. I

the Mafia Princess Sofi

the room. He ordered me to leave because, in the pres

tion didn't

the penthouse to

oom bracelet-my family's last scrap of dignity-jus

e when he came to my b

ering that he was only "practicing" his tec

a person to him. I was a train

took her to Paris. He thought I woul

as w

ccepted a surgical fel

left his millions on the floo

mes home to find his ca

pte

Ross

when the phone buzzed against my palm. It was a message from the ma

zure. Don't make

ild and frantic, like a bird throwin

ch with a mysterious, wealthy benefactor. In reality, I was a lin

over my shoulder to peer at the screen. She didn't

nt

. He demands you in five minutes.

inst my collarbone. It was cold, heavy, and sharp. To her,

grabbing my coat with trembling fi

iction had cost three million dollars, and I was the curren

I r

at the curb, the atmosphere was sterile and chilled. The driver, a man with a sc

à. Si

pply, a front for the New York Outfit's West Coast operations. The bass from the music thrummed thro

wo minu

was wearing a charcoal suit that cost more than my parents' house, his top button undone to reve

hen I entered. He j

slipping

hat promised a storm. The men around him

ic," I

e he

st. It was a comm

t my wrist and pulled me down onto his lap. His hand settled on my waist, his thumb digging into the

scotch, and the metallic tang of som

st my ear. "You look like y

whispered back,

. "Careful, *tesoro*. You kn

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The casual m

n walk

lk, her eyes flashing with entitlement and fear. She was being harassed by a drunk as

neath me. The hand on my waist

ond thought. I stumbled, catching myself on the edge

was walking toward the woman,

a," h

the air like a pr

f the Chicago Don. The woman the Vitiello family had bee

fia Pr

ack, shielding her from the drunk, I realized

s the placeholder. And the real ow