The Mafia Contract Series

I must have fallen into a blissful sleep courtesy of the warm bath, sensual oils and the deep soul shattering kiss of a god. Ivan is a god to me. Somehow, he has gone from being an aggressor, a kidnapper and a bastard, to becoming an object of fascination. He intrigues me, and not just because I’m inexperienced. It’s him. The savage warrior who is keeping me alive right now, and that alone is a powerful aphrodisiac.

As I lie in his arms wrapped in decadence, it’s a world away from the depressing place we’ve just left. My life has become a movie and I’m starring in the role of a lifetime with a savage as my leading man. I never thought this would happen to a girl like me, but now it has I’m keen to explore every inch of insanity I possess because I know when this ends, I will never be the same again.

Waking up beside Ivan is blissful agony. It feels so good with his legs entwined in mine. His rough hand grazing my stomach as his arm traps me beneath tribal ink. His breath fans my face and I steal a glance at the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He could star in every action movie I have ever seen, and I couldn’t desire him more. I’m not even embarrassed that he’s naked against my silk covered body. I like it, which makes me curious.

He stirs and my heart thumps as he opens one bright blue eye and grins, his lazy smile dragging my own shy one onto my face.

“This is better.”

I nod, suddenly shy for no apparent reason.

To my surprise, he regards me with a curious expression that makes my heart race, and his hand tightens against my thigh. I can’t help myself and inch even closer and his low groan of frustration matches what I’m thinking.

Then, to my extreme disappointment, he rolls to the side and exhales sharply. “We should dress.

You need to eat, and pray this time it’s not with any unwelcome added ingredients.

The disappointment hits me hard as our cozy bubble bursts and lets reality in.

Sighing, I swing my legs to the side of the bed, not even caring that the robe falls off one shoulder, revealing a glimpse of flesh that Ivan obviously doesn’t appreciate because he snaps, “For fuck’s sake, let’s see what clothes my friend has packed before I do something we’ll both regret. He stomps into the dressing room and returns with two black bags and chucks them onto the bed.

As I unzip one of them, I pull out a smart dress and some matching heels, loving how luxurious the material feels against my touch. “Your friend has good taste.”

I hold up the lacey lingerie and Ivan sucks in a breath, making me giggle at his tortured expression.

“Fuck! Now I’m stuck with an image of you wearing that as we head to whatever madness waits for us.”

He groans, and it makes me laugh and then he removes a black suit and a smart black silk shirt from his own bag, making my own mouth water. “A dangerous outfit for a dangerous man.” I say slyly, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve never heard a fucking suit described as dangerous before. You’re one screwed up woman.”

His chuckle makes me smile and I’m not sure what madness grips my reasoning, but I shrug and slip the robe from my body, not caring that I’m as naked as he is.

His low ‘fuck’ makes me shiver with delight as I reach for the silky vest and pull it over my head.

The matching knickers, or panties, as he calls them, follow and I pointedly ignore the fact he is just standing watching as if in a trance.

After I shrug on the black dress, I step into the killer heels and marvel that they fit at all.

Ivan is still staring and the look in his eye should make me run for cover because it’s obvious what he wants. Me.

Sitting back on the bed, I say casually, “What are you waiting for?”

He turns abruptly and dresses in record speed, and now it’s my turn to stare in stunned surprise.

He scrubs up well, and the savage is almost respectable as he becomes the man I know he is most of the time. Mafia, Bratva, it’s one and the same and this man exudes danger, which is like a love potion of the most devastating kind.

As he holds out his hand, my own finds it willingly, almost as if it was made to fit like Cinderella’s glass slipper and as we leave the most amazing and surprising room I have ever seen, two very different people step outside.

We help ourselves to the food in the small galley and I’m grateful to find fresh fruit and English muffins are in plentiful supply. There’s even a toaster and English butter and as I help myself, I make enough for the two of us along with a coffee for Ivan and my desired English tea. We dine at a table that could seat at least twelve and I gaze around me in wonder.

“Do people really live like this?”

“It appears they do.”

“Tell me about your friend.” I’m curious about the man who has rescued us from certain death, and Ivan shrugs. “We met at college and shared a house with three other guys. Malik is from Dubai and his father is the security advisor to the Sheikh. I almost think they print money in their many palaces because I have never known living like this.”

“Do you trust him?”

I’m curious about that and hope he can because if he’s in on this, we could be walking into an ambush anytime soon.

“With my life.”

Ivan looks determined about that and says in a low voice, “We are blood brothers. There were six of us who swore an oath on the last day of college. Paid for in blood.”

“Blood!” The horror must show on my face because he grins, and it’s as if the devil has entered the room.

“We cut our skin and signed our names in blood and that bond will never be broken.”

“Wow.” I can’t get my head around this. “It’s like something out of a freaking book. What was your oath?”

“To turn our backs on love and remove our hearts. To free Angelo’s sister from a maniac and bring her back to us.”

“His sister?”

I’m confused and Ivan shakes his head, appearing quite sad. “Winter came to live with us at Rockwell Academy in our last semester. Angelo is her twin brother, and they lived the same life we all did. She was being married off after graduation to someone of her father’s choosing and she was afraid.”

“I’m not surprised. Who wants an arranged marriage?”

“Definitely not when the man is old enough to be your father and is the biggest bastard mafia boss in the world.”

“That’s disgusting.” I feel sick and Ivan growls. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it.”

He looks down and I’m a little surprised because something has slammed the door shut and I feel a pang when I think of the reason. It must be Winter. He must love her and it’s tearing him up, thinking of her with another man. For some reason, my appetite deserts me and I push my plate away and stare out at the clouds below us.

“You’re not eating.” His gruff voice brings my attention back to him and I force a bright smile onto my face.

“I’ve had enough. Thank you.”

He stares at me long and hard and then shakes his head. “Are you always so polite?”

“Of course, manners cost nothing despite the circumstances.”

He chuckles, which makes me smile. “What?”

“You. My perfect little English rose looking as if she’s taking tea with the queen, not the Russian bastard who kidnapped her and nearly got her killed.”

“Yes, well, some things can’t be helped, and you have to make the best of a bad situation.”

“Is that what this is, a bad situation?”

For some reason, he looks a little disappointed and I shrug. “I suppose it is, but it has its good points.”

“Is that so.” He laughs and looks me straight in the eye which makes me shiver with lust because quite frankly I think I’m heading down some kind of crazy highway with this handsome Russian that will only end up in one place-his bed.

“If you must know, the company isn’t as bad as I expected.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, although I would have preferred more of a challenge.”

“In what way?”

He seems amused, and I lean forward and smile suggestively. “I had hoped he could teach me to be a better fighter, among other things.”

“Other things.” He cocks his brow and I shrug.

“Yes. Other things.”

“What are they?” The smirk on his face makes me smile because I love this easy relationship we’re building and, feeling bolder, I sigh. “It’s no fun being me, Ivan.”

“I’m crying for you, princess.” He rolls his eyes as I shrug.

“You think my life is easy and compared to yours, it is. However, like your friend’s twin, my life is already mapped out for me.”Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

“I’m still not buying it, baby.”

“Well, think about it. I was sent off to boarding school for most of my life and some may say I’ve done a life sentence already. There is no freedom in an English school, not for the wealthy, anyway. I am locked away with girls like me and kept separate from boys for our own protection. We are taught what it’s like to be a good wife and mother and how to charm the most suitable husband we can hook on our line.”

“Still not crying.”

He leans back and takes a sip of his coffee, and I sigh theatrically. “When I asked you to kiss me, it was the boldest question I had ever asked because as it happens, that was my first kiss-ever.”

Now I have his attention and he seems shocked. “Ever!”

“Yes. I told you I have lived with girls my entire life and even when the holidays came around, they were spent in tennis club, cookery school, or deep in the countryside in my parent’s country home. Strictly no boys allowed and every move I made was watched.”

“So, you’ve never had a boyfriend.”

Ivan looks curious, and I nod. “You’re catching on. Anyway, the day you kidnapped me, I prayed hard for a different life. Something cool and edgy and it appears my wish was granted.”

“You wanted this.” He laughs as if I’ve cracked the funniest joke and I nod. “I want life, Ivan. I want to love, laugh, and live. I want freedom and not to live by the rule book. Kissing you was the single best experience of my life so far and to you, it was probably one in a very long line. I just want you to know that because, despite the circumstances, at least you have given me something to treasure in my boring future married to a wet blanket.”

“A what?”

He looks confused and I laugh out loud. “It’s a term we use like a wet weekend. Someone boring, plain, and unimaginative. Going through the motions of life rather than living it. I am now open to receiving your pity. Thank you.”

He sets down his cup and stares deeply into my eyes.

“My story is a much better one.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

This time I raise my cup and take a sip of the tea that feels a lot like home.

“I never knew my mother. Only a father whose idea of raising his son was making him fight. Ever since I can remember, he entered me in contests against local kids and if I didn’t paint them in their own blood, he took mine instead.”

The cup freezes against my mouth as he says dully. “I lost my virginity with my father’s girlfriend while he watched.”

Now I put the cup down and wish I had never asked. “I was fourteen years old.”

I reach out and take his hand and as his fingers lace with mine, he says roughly, “I was educated in the school of life and dragged around after him as he tortured, murdered and raped his victims. I was encouraged to participate and the only time I ever earned his approval was when I won a fight.”

It’s as if he’s speaking of somebody else because there is no emotion in his voice at all and he says with a sigh. “Fighting became my safety blanket. If I won, he was happy, which made me happy. I sought his approval because he was the big bad monster everybody feared. I grew to love what I did.

For every bone I broke, I was rewarded. I had everything. Women, food, and alcohol. An unlimited expense account and no rules but one. To win.”

He breaks off and I see the light dancing in his eyes as he says with a smile. “His biggest mistake was sending me to America to be educated. The place was called Rockwell Academy, and I met my future there. Along with my friends, we will change our future and live our lives the way we want to and not how our families have planned. Like you, I want a different life to the one mapped out for me and kidnapping you will give us everything we want.”

“How?” I hold my breath because I wasn’t expecting this, and he says darkly, “I lied about the reason I kidnapped you.”

“You did.” Now I’m afraid because the conversation has a darker edge to it, and he nods, looking at me with a tortured expression.

“As it turns out, Winter’s husband wants to trade.”

He appears disgusted as he spits, “We exchange you both and everyone gets what they want.”

“Everyone.” I feel weak and desperate as I face the real reason I’m here, and he nods.

“Massimo Delauren, as it turns out, is your biological father.”