Seduced by the Mafia Boss

by Shayla Black

  What the hell is going on? I want to scream at Ridge. Nine weeks ago, he left my bed before I woke—without saying goodbye. He never called. He never asked about me. He just walked away like I didn’t matter at all. But instinct and this power struggle I don’t understand between him and the two thugs tell me to shut my mouth…for now.

  “Paulie will hear about this,” Shortie finally snaps.

  “I don’t care, Sal. Get the fuck out of my face. And if you want to keep yours looking the way it is, stay out.”

  “When you least expect it, I’m going to double-tap you in the head, Harvard.”

  Ridge looks unmoved by that threat. “You don’t have an army big enough for that. And the boss would rip you a new asshole. You and your lapdog go.” He gestures them away with a wave of his long, capable fingers. “Before I decide to make this ugly.”

  Sal turns to the big guy with a jerk of his head. Rudy gives me one last squeeze that I know will leave bruises, then releases me with a leer that promises he’s not done touching me yet.

  I shudder as they walk away, then turn back to Ridge. We’re alone now. I want answers. “What the hell is going on?”

  Ridge takes my arm in his grip. “You shouldn’t be here. Turn around, march your sweet ass to the door, and get the fuck out.”

  “No.”

  He grits his teeth, his strong jaw working. “You need to leave. Now. Trust me.”

  I barely refrain from laughing hysterically. “Why? I barely know you. And I don’t know this version of you at all, Rafael.” I flip my hand toward the thick, tamed waves of his hair, the super-sleek suit, wing-tips, and gangster attitude. “After what happened between us, I definitely don’t trust you. So I’m going to resume my search for—”

  “You’re not,” he growls as he tugs me against his body.

  He’s hard—every single inch of him.

  The answering chord of desire that gongs through me is a betrayal.

  No. He had his chance that night with me, and he left without either a word or a backward glance. I owe him nothing now, especially not my compliance.

  “You can’t stop me.”

  Ridge’s black stare turns angry. “I’m fucking going to make sure you leave. You’ll thank me later.”

  As if.

  I dig in my heels. “Touch me again, and I will scream the roof of this place down.”

  In the back of my head, I know my threat is ridiculous. I would have already done it when Sal and Rudy accosted me if I thought it would do any good. But I’m well aware that between the crowd noise, the clanging slots, and the beginning set of a nearby lounge band, that virtually no one would hear me.

  The curse that falls from Ridge’s mouth is furious and ugly. It’s all I can do not to cringe.

  “Yo!” A tall, menacing suit barrels toward us.

  He looks right past Ridge, who turns to address the threat, and focuses on my breasts.

  No one is more shocked than me when Ridge steps in front of me protectively. “I got this handled.”

  “You don’t,” the man says. “We’re about to have a scene. No one wants that.”

  Ridge stiffens. “Give me a minute, Paulie. I’ll get her the hell out of here.”

  “The boss has another idea, this weekend being busy and all. But you know that because you’ve been put in charge of the operation.”

  I don’t understand those words precisely, but I understand two things: the veiled threat in Paulie’s tone and the fact that, as soon as he utters those words, fury pours off Ridge.

  He shakes his head. “To your point, we’re attracting too much attention.”

  “The boss has spoken.” The other guy nods toward the observation floor above the casino I noticed earlier.

  I see a lone man standing, watching, hands clasped behind his back. Even from here, I feel his malice.

  Shit, I don’t know what I’ve stepped in the middle of, but I’m in over my head.

  “Fine,” I spit. “I’ll go.” I don’t know what I’ll tell Aunt Tammy, but the police will hopefully jump on this case in the next couple of hours. Maybe I can share everything I’ve discovered with them so they can find Sammie fast.

  “Good riddance,” Ridge growls. “Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”

  Paulie reaches past him to wrap a meaty fist around my arm. “Not so fast.”

  My heart leaps to my throat before screeching to a stop.

  “Take your fucking hand off of her before I break it,” Ridge threatens.

  “Then get her to the eighth floor. Boss’s orders. You got ten minutes. And you better not make a scene.” With a sly, satisfied grin, Paulie turns away.

  Ridge stiffens to something like unbendable steel when he whirls on me and grabs my hand. “Goddamn it. You just couldn’t leave when I told you to. C’mon.”

  When he tugs, I shake my head. “What’s on the eighth floor?”

  “I can’t explain it here. We’re being watched. Fuck.” He grabs my shoulders. “Now you have to come with me. And it’s going to get ugly.”

  Before I can run, scream, tear off my clothes, or anything else that might attract attention, Ridge lifts me into his arms, against his chest, and carries me through the high rollers’ area.

  “What are you doing? Put me down!”

  He keeps walking like I didn’t speak, giving a flinty fuck-off stare to a blackjack dealer in the roped-off area, then nodding at a pair of suited hulks guarding a drape.

  As we reach it, they push the brocade back to reveal an open elevator. Ridge strides inside. The doors begin to close.

  I scream as if my life depends on it…because I’m starting to think it does.

  He drops me to my feet, plasters me against the wall of the elevator with his body, and covers my mouth with his hand. “It’s too late for that. You’re at my mercy now.”

  Those dark eyes of his—the ones so full of warmth and desire nine short weeks ago—are like black ice now.

  “Don’t hurt me.” The plea slips out.

  If anything, his eyes turn colder. “Where’s your phone?”

  My last lifeline to 9-1-1 and the outside world? “I-I don’t have it.”

  Mouth pressing into a grim line, Ridge yanks the strap of my purse off my shoulders, rifles through my bag, finds the device, and powers it down before pocketing it. “I’m sorry.”

  Terror grips my throat. “What are you going to do to me?”

  He doesn’t answer, which only terrifies me more. Then the elevator dings.

  Eighth floor.

  The doors open to a shadowy, dank hallway. It’s outdated. It smells musty.

  I grab on to the safety rail in the elevator for dear life. I’m not letting go until Ridge gives me some answers. “Why are you bringing me here?”

  He lifts me again, bracing me against his chest and carrying me away from my last line of escape without remorse. “So we can…talk.”

  The way he says it? I don’t think that’s all we’ll be doing.

  A team of maintenance men work on doorknobs up and down the hall. A few others pour into open hotel rooms with drawn drapes, hastily made beds, and…are they stringing up surveillance equipment?

  Ridge finds an older guy wearing a hard hat with a belly that says he likes beer. “Are you finishing all these tonight?”

  He nods. “Boss’s orders.”

  Cursing, Ridge regards the maintenance worker. “Are any rooms complete yet?”

  “Most of them. We’ll be finished in ten minutes. Audio will have to wait until morning, due to parts. But video is done along this hallway.” The older guy gestures from here to the grimy window.

  Ridge doesn’t look pleased. “Active?”

  Does he want to know if the rooms are already under video surveillance?

  “If they’re not yet, they will be soon. Boss was in a hurry. Why? Got plans?” He flicks his gaze over to me, stare roaming my body with a dirty smile that makes me want a shower.

  Ridge doesn’t answer.
“I’ll be in the last door on the right. Tell your guys not to disturb me.”

  The maintenance worker gives him a two-fingered salute. “You got it. Have fun.”

  Without another word, Ridge forges full steam ahead into the room in question. Outside the door, he flicks the lock open.

  Why does it lock from the hallway?

  Then the door slams shut. He carries me to the center of the room, at the foot of a king-size bed, and sets me on my feet. “Why are you here?”

  “Why should I answer you?”

  Those black eyes sharpen. “You better listen to me, Little Red.”

  I gasp. That’s what he called me when we met on New Year’s Eve, the night he spent in my hotel room with my body under his, giving me hours of the kind of pleasure that made me sure every other person staying on our floor heard me, too.

  Here we are again. A different hotel room and a different situation—one way more terrifying, but…

  “You remember?” It’s the wrong question to ask. It’s definitely the wrong time to ask it. But him using that nickname fills me with hope. It’s stupid. But it makes me feel better.

  “You’re fucking right, I do,” he growls in my ear. “And now you’re in the middle of this shit, where I’d never want you.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  He sighs. “Long-ass story. But you better follow my lead—to the letter—if you want to live.”

  Ridge

  Predictably, Kristi’s eyes widen with horror. Her pale skin goes even paler. “W-would you really kill me?”

  What a damn clusterfuck this night has turned into. I need to tell her. Everything. After I walked away from her at the start of the New Year without explanation, I didn’t dare look back. Of course she doesn’t trust me anymore. I don’t blame her. If nothing else, she must be confused. The me she sees now isn’t the me she met when my brother married her best friend. Coming clean is the only chance I have of getting her to trust me enough to follow my lead.

  That’s the only way we both get out of here alive.

  “No.”

  But now comes the tough part. We’re being watched, and I have to make this look good.

  I hope like fuck Kristi forgives me someday…but I’m prepared for the fact she may not.

  Wrapping my fist in her long red tresses—the hair I still dream of wrapping around my fingers while I fuck her hoarse—I shove her back to the bed. She lands with a startled oomph. I follow her down, covering her body with mine, spreading her legs with my knees and making myself at home.

  She’s not in the sparkling red dress she wore the night we met. She’s also not wearing sky-high heels, spangly bracelets, that spicy-floral perfume that drove me mad, the makeup that accentuated her blue eyes, or the soft curls that swished around her shoulders. Tonight, she’s in jeans, tennis shoes, and a khaki long-sleeved T-shirt. She’s not wearing any jewelry and almost no makeup. Her hair hangs free in gentle waves. And instead of flirtatious, she looks terrified.

  I’ve missed her. And I want her more now than I did the first time I laid eyes on her.

  It’s not a helpful fucking development.

  Also unsurprisingly, she fights me, bucking and screeching, pushing and shoving at me. “Get off!”

  I take her wrists in my grip and flatten them against the mattress at the same time I use my legs to pin her immobile beneath me. Fuck, she looks pretty and feels so good, but I have to focus.

  “No. You’re mine now, whether you wish otherwise or not. Give me your fucking mouth.”

  Her eyes widen, indignant. “I will not. I’m—”

  I cut her off by crushing her lips under mine and pushing my way inside. As I surge deep, she stiffens and writhes, doing her damnedest to buck me off. But she’s got nowhere to go. After thirty seconds, she realizes that terrible reality and turns limp underneath me. Another few seconds later, and she’s almost kissing me back.

  “Good girl,” I whisper against her lips.

  “Fuck you.”

  So Kristi has backbone? The night we met at Rand and Sophie’s wedding, she was shy and sweet. I loved the hell out of coaxing her, unwrapping her, worshipping her…and her surrendering completely to me. But this side of my girl with fight? I like it. We’re going to need it.

  “We’ll do a lot of that tonight, Little Red. I’m going to wear out that pussy. When you’re sore and tired and wrung out, I’m just going to fuck you again.”

  “No! You can’t—”

  “I can. Don’t you get it yet? There’s no stopping this now. Whether it goes down easy or hard is up to you.”

  I expect a couple of reactions. More fighting. Maybe some mudslinging or name calling. What I don’t expect is Kristi to burst into tears.

  Aw, fuck.

  When she does her best to buck me off again, I grab fistfuls of her fiery hair and force her to meet my stare. “What the hell?”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  Tightening my grip, I lower my lips to murmur in her ear. “I need you to listen carefully and understand what I’m about to tell you. Or we’re both dead. There are video cameras in this room, and they’re probably set to record. It’s why I scared you, so you’d keep fighting. But I’m not who you have to worry about. I would never hurt you, Little Red. I’ve missed you way too fucking much.”

  A gasp escapes her lips. “What are you saying? You’re in danger, too?”

  “I will be if I can’t convince the mobsters watching us that I’m one of them.”

  “But you’re not?”

  The note of hope in her voice gives me a reason to believe I can get through to her. “I’m undercover, trying to break open their sex ring. You walked into the middle of it, and I have to figure out how to get you the fuck out of it.”

  “My cousin Sammie disappeared from this casino last night. Her mother called me frantically this morning and asked me to come help find her. She’s barely eighteen.”

  Oh, shit.

  “I think I know where she is.” Well, where she was. When I leave here, I’ll have to find out if she’s still in her cage in the third-level basement, been moved to a room on this floor…or in the bed of the man who paid to have her abducted and brought to him like a sacrifice.

  “You do?” She grips me tighter, finally looking at me like I’m not a monster.

  “About five feet tall? Wavy, dark hair?”

  Kristi nods frantically. “Yes. Where is she? What will happen to her?”

  If I tell Kristi now, she’ll only freak. “Let me deal with that.”

  “No. I need answers so I can call my aunt. Give me back my phone.”

  I shake my head. “I’ve told you all I can. You’ll have to trust me for now.”

  “How can I?”

  “What are your more appealing options?”

  And we’ve been talking too long. Anyone watching this footage will wonder what the fuck is happening. Why isn’t this new captive fighting me more? And why haven’t I ripped off her clothes and forced my cock between her legs? Donzelli thinks I’m discerning, and that will work in my favor. But he won’t respect me allowing anyone, especially someone trying to blow apart our operation, any kind of leverage.

  I have to make everyone believe I’m shutting her down and taking over. Now. It will look a shitload more realistic if Kristi believes it, too.

  “Apparently none, and you’re enjoying that,” she hurls at me.

  Not really. But I smile for the cameras as I grip both of her wrists in my hand, pin her to the dusty duvet, then work my free hand beneath her baggy T-shirt to curl my fingers around her ribs.

  She stiffens. “Don’t touch me until you help Sammie!”

  Ignoring her demand, I push the khaki shirt up her torso, revealing her beige bra. It’s not meant to be sexy. Modest lace trims the underwires with a little pink bow in between. But the cups only cover half her lush tits, and the thin straps at her shoulders have a hell of a time restraining the bounty God gave her.

&n
bsp; It’s both predictable and horrible fucking timing, but I get harder. My head swims in her scent. “Red…”

  “Stop it!” She wriggles and fights.

  But I’ve got her pinned too well. She’s not going anywhere, and she uses up most of her strength over the next few minutes figuring that out before falling limply to the bed again.

  “You done?” I demand.

  “I hate you.” She sniffles.

  Yeah, I figured. That shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. But I’ll have to sort that out later.

  Now my hand has a mind of its own, wandering up to the band of her bra…before cupping one of her mouthwateringly full tits. “God. I’ve missed touching these.”

  I’ve missed licking them, too. I bend and string kisses across her swell before burying my face in her cleavage.

  Holy shit, I loved these the night I spent paying homage to their beauty and perfection. I’d almost swear they’ve gotten bigger since then, but I’m sure that’s because I’ve missed them so damn much.

  “Don’t!” She wriggles, trying to work free.

  I snap. I know I should let her struggle for the camera, but it’s bugging the hell out of me. “I’m trying to help you.”

  “By mauling me?”

  “By marking you as mine. Unless you want me to leave you to the mercy of Sal, Rudy, and Paulie, none of whom will hesitate to rape you? Your call. Me or them.”

  She swallows and searches my face, her blue eyes dilated with fear. I see the pulse beating at her neck. “They’re really mobsters?”

  “Yep. And they’re really running a sex ring that you and your cousin are about to get swept into, unless you play along.”

  She hesitates, searching my face like she’s looking for answers. “I still don’t like you. And I still don’t trust you.”

  “But better the devil you know?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Excellent. So we’re on the same page? We’re going to fuck now. For the cameras.” That’s not the only reason…but best not to mention that.

  “Fine.” She grumbles. “But be quick.”

  Good thing I have a healthy ego, but I still can’t help needling her. “You don’t sound too happy. Why? You liked it a lot before.”