Page 23 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

Something strong-willed and defiant inside me reared its ugly head, demanding I take this arrogant man down a peg or two. It was that hot streak inside me my mother had always tried to tame, wailing at me that I would never be a good wife if I couldn’t learn to be quiet and submissive.

The only place I wanted to be submissive was in bed.

Which reminded me that I was actually in Luca’s.

I swung my naked legs off the side of the mattress and stood. Lynx’s jacket barely covered my ass but I strode past Luca and out the door.

A glance in the hallway mirror showed his gaze following me as I walked away.

But the momentary smugness I felt at that dissolved fast. I might have won that battle, but there was no doubt in my mind that Luca Guerra and I had just waged a war.

7

LYNX

Dear Diary,

I didn’t realize naked arguments and stepmom porn would be part of my job description. I was wrong.

Ididn’t know what to do. I’d had exactly zero training as a bodyguard, so although I was pretty confident in pulling out a gun or getting in a fistfight, nobody had told me what I was supposed to do when your charge was naked and verbally sparring with the man who’d been ready to give you a blow job the night before.

So fucking awkward. And I’d only made it worse by calling him Mr. Guerra and then making jokes about stepmom porn. Fuck me. I was an idiot.

Nyah stormed down the hallway in nothing but my jacket, and I fought the urge to groan at the tanned, bare thighs. Just an inch or two higher and that jacket would have been showing off the curve of her ass.

She was fucking gorgeous. I’d noticed it the night I’d seen her at dinner with Dax and Reaper but hadn’t really given it more than a passing thought. She was clearly with someone else, and I’d had a whole lotta other shit on my mind anyway. Women weren’t one of them.

But I also hadn’t seen her walking around in nothing but my jacket.

Fuck.

That was going to be hard to forget.

So now I was standing between two bedrooms, each containing a person I wouldn’t have minded going to bed with but knowing full well I couldn’t have either if I wanted to keep this job.

Which I did. Because finding a job when you were fresh out of prison was fucking impossible, even in a town like Saint View where the standards weren’t exactly high. I’d spent months looking, only to find trouble. My old life had tried to welcome me back with open arms, and for a hot minute, I’d let it.

But it had left me cold. Lonely. I’d spent six years in a cell with Reaper, and for maybe the first time in my life, I’d realized what a true friendship felt like. Someone to have your back was something I’d been missing ever since I’d given up hockey. So I’d followed him back to the Slayers Motorcycle Club. Humbled myself by asking them to take me on, letting me start at the bottom and earn their trust.

Earn my spot in a family.

And they’d let me.

That had meant more to me than anything. More than money. More than sex. So I wasn’t going to do anything to fuck that up. If I got involved with my boss’s son, that wouldn’t end with me keeping my job.

And if I started messing around with my boss’s wife?

Fuck me, I wouldn’t have to worry about having a family and a roof over my head.

Because I’d be buried six feet under.

So I stood in the hallway between their two bedrooms and counted the grapes in the painting again.

Luca’s door was the first to open, and a pile of Nyah’s clothes was dumped into the hallway. He disappeared, and a moment later more clothes, her suitcases, and a mountain of shoes were tossed out.

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he slammed the door in my face.

I fought back a snort of amusement at his tantrum. It was kind of cute.