Page 59 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

There wasn’t a sound between us.

“Breathe, Nyah.”

Air rushed out of her, and she sucked in more just as fast.

I grinned. “Good girl.”

19

NYAH

Dear Diary,

The apron was innocent. I was not.

When Virginia walked back into the kitchen with her arms laden with shopping bags, I was surprised she wasn’t instantly incinerated by the searing heat that still lingered in the kitchen, even though Luca had slipped away a moment before she’d come in.

She put the bags down on the countertop and handed me the sugar we’d been missing for the recipe.

The package slipped right through my weak fingers and hit the floor.

Virginia squinted at me as I scrambled to pick it up, apologizing to the older woman for being so clumsy.

“What happened while I was gone? You’re all hot and flushed in the face, and your fingers are shaking like you saw a ghost.”

“No ghost,” I mumbled, turning my back and busying myself by pouring the sugar into a measuring cup.

Just my future stepson, one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen in my life, cornering me in a kitchen and promising he was going to fuck me in an apron and nothing but the apron.

What Lynx had said earlier about my panties getting wet whenever Luca was around was so true it was embarrassing. I was drenched, my pussy throbbing with a need so bad I was sure I was going to have to go upstairs and take care of myself. I couldn’t see how I would even be able to think for the rest of the day if I didn’t.

God. He’d called me good girl, and I’d disintegrated into a shaking, needy mess.

It pissed me off.

And yet it was all I could think about, his lips close to mine, demanding I breathe, and my body instantly giving him what he wanted.

And wanting more.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to rid myself of the image of Luca all over me. But it only made it worse. Goddamn my overactive imagination.

I forced myself to think about Carlos instead. Carlos fucking Guerra and his silver hair and sharp eyes. Tanned skin that verged on leather. Too much Botox that only made him look like he was trying to steal from the fountain of youth. His suits that were clearly expensive but didn’t fit even half as good on him as they did on his son.

Carlos was who I was marrying. Carlos was the man I needed to fuck me wearing nothing but an apron. And soon, before I was too far along in this pregnancy to fake who this baby’s father was.

“Nyah? Did you hear what I said?” Virginia asked.

I blinked and shook my head. “No. Sorry, I was concentrating on not spilling the sugar. What’s wrong?”

“I’ll need to finish the cake without you. Mr. Guerra is taking you all to the fights tonight. So you’ll want to go get ready. Bruno told me as I came in.”

Bruno was the guard who was stationed on the front door, beside his brother, Viktor. Goon One and Two, I’d named them on my first day here. I still thought that suited them better than their given names.

I wiped my hands off on the apron Luca had been so interested in and went to take it off. But something stopped me, and instead I walked out of the kitchen still wearing it, hoping Virginia wouldn’t notice.

If she did, she didn’t say anything.

I ran past Bruno and Viktor and then up the stairs.