Can you knock it off with the coincidences?I silently ask the Universe.
When she spots Damien, her face melts.Oh, for the love of God.
"Damien, honey, did Roxy like the breakfast?" she asks, as if I'm not standing right there.
With an honest-to-God laugh, Damien says, "She loves me even more after it, Margaret."
The old woman giggles and blushes.
"She'd be a fool not to latch onto a man who takes care of her."
If I roll my eyes any harder, they'll stay stuck like that.
"Don't wait too long to put a ring on her finger, Damien. Women these days run from the good ones."
"IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT ANSWERING THAT, DAMIEN, WE'RE GOING TO FIND OUT IF I'M CAPABLE OF CASTRATING A MAN!"
Mrs. Margaret laughs like I'm joking. Damien's eyes flash with something else entirely. He leans in, his mouth just a breath from mine.
"I'd enjoy anything that means your hands on me, Roxanne. Even if it comes with pain."
My eyes widen and I shove him back.
"I'm not touching you anytime soon," I say, though my voice betrays me. Even I don't believe what I’m saying.
He shakes his head, stepping aside. I walk past him toward my car, fully aware today's going to be a long day.
As I'm getting in, I see him straddling his motorcycle.
"I already told you, I always make my dreams come true!" he shouts.
I freeze, staring. The wind catches a strand of his chestnut hair, and those two goddamn dimples flash as he waves.
I get in my car and drive away.
The Roxy from a few years ago would have jumped him without hesitation. But that Roxy hadn't been cheated on by nearly every guy she'd dated. Hadn't been told to her face, 'You're lucky I stuck it out for two months.'
Apparently, I'm cold. I work too much. I don't get attached.
And apparently, I'm the dream of a mafia boss.
What a fabulous Monday.
Chapter 6
Damien
There are a lot of things I’ve learned to control.
My men.
My money.
My business partners.
But there’s one thing all the therapy in the world never managed to cage: my rage.
That red whirlpool that tears through my chest, burning up everything it touches like molten lava.
