Nanny’s Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss: Chapter 15

If I can’t win Sophie over, I don’t know what I’ll do. The damned soul inside me wants to make sure she’s tied to me, whether she likes it or not. A horrible thought crossed my mind to force her hand in marriage, to force her to carry my child, and then she couldn’t leave.

But I can’t do that to her.

I’m so fucking selfish for even having those kinds of thoughts, but who can blame me? She’s perfect. She’s every man’s dream. She’s the kind of woman you marry after the first date. I know that. It’s why I’m coming on so strong.

She’s skittish. She’s ready to bolt. I know that in her head, last night was the last time between us, but if I have it my way, I’m going to finger-fuck her on this private jet right now, and there’s nothing she can do about it.

She’s sleeping, her head lying on my shoulder. I grin, feeling smug.

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t escape the pull she feels toward me.

“Do you need anything, Mr. Milazzo?” Rebecca, the new flight attendant, asks.

I don’t like new attendants but Darren was ill and couldn’t make the flight, so we had to call in the backup.

“No. I’m fine. Thank you.” I place my hand on Sophie’s knee, showing Rebecca I’m not interested in her. “Is there something you need?”

“No, Mr. Milazzo.” She straightens, puckering her fake lips. “If you need me, just press the button.”

“I know. It’s my jet, remember?”

“Habit,” she says through a fake smile, then huffs as she walks away.

“You didn’t need to be so mean,” Sophie mumbles, still sleepy.

“I wasn’t. She was unprofessional. She won’t be on this plane again.” I slip my hand under the blanket and slide my hand up her bare leg.

I’m so glad she’s wearing shorts.

“Matias. We can’t. Not here. Plus, you said you’d give me time, remember?”

Fuck.

I did say that.

I slide my hand back to her knee and rub my thumb against her skin. “I’m sorry. You make me irrational. I’m in constant need when I’m around you.”

Her eyes are still closed, but I hear her giggle. “Yeah, okay.”

I hear the disbelief in her tone, and I grab her hand, pressing it on my cock. “Do you feel that?” I wrap her fingers around the shaft. “Feel how fucking hard I am for you? Ever since you climbed out of bed and kissed my daughter on the cheek goodbye, I’ve wanted you.”

She inhales, giving me a soft stroke through my pants.

As much as I don’t want to, I remove her hand and place it beside my leg. “Time, remember? If you don’t come, I don’t come.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever apologize. It’s your body, your mind, your wants. I’m not mad about that, Sophie. I’m not mad at all. Okay?”

She nods, her lashes curling until they nearly touch her eyebrows. Her big blue eyes are a beacon, guiding me to moral righteousness.

I cup her jaw, my sights targeting her lips. “Can I kiss you? Is that allowed?”

She nods again, still not saying a word.

“Thank fuck,” I growl before crushing my mouth to hers. I can cope without sex, but her lips? Not being able to kiss and taste her when I want?

I don’t know if I could survive a day.

There’s no tongue; just a simple, at-ease, soft kiss.

“We are making the descent to New York City. Please fasten your seatbelts. We will be landing in twenty minutes,” the pilot announces.

The kiss comes to an end. I don’t want to go to this gala. I want us to be locked away in a hotel room and I want to learn everything about her. I’m obsessed.

“Are you excited about the gala tonight?” I ask her while running my fingers through her hair.

She remains quiet for a little too long before answering, “I’m only going for you.”

I lean back to see her face. “You aren’t excited? Most women love getting dressed up for a night out. I can’t wait to show you off. Hmm,” I hum, imagining her holding my arm as men look at me with envy.

Her cheeks turn red, and she glances down. “I guess.”

“Hey.” I slip my fingers under her chin, apply pressure, and force her to lift her head. Tears swim in her eyes and she tries to pull away from me, but I palm her cheek. “Hey, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sophie. It will only make me want to spank you. And since you need time, that’s something I can’t do. Be honest with me. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think this night will go as planned. That’s all. I think you have this idea in your head about how tonight will look. It’s sweet. Like a fairytale, but I’ve learned fairytales have a dark meaning, the original ones, and it isn’t always a happily ever after. I just think you need to be more realistic.”

I growl, not liking how she’s diminishing herself. “If I want a fairytale for us, then I will have it, and I don’t care who I need to kill or silence for that to happen. Do you understand me, Sophie? I will slip your shoe on at midnight while we stand in a puddle of blood belonging to anyone who dares to question us. The lengths I will go for you have no bounds.”

“You won’t actually kill anyone, will you?”

I meet her gaze, so serious and innocent. She has no idea just how much more dangerous I’ve become since meeting her.

“I’m the leader of the Milazzo mafia, Sophie.” I lean in to graze her lips. “What do you think? Am I a man who kills to get what he wants?”

She blinks, licking her lips. “Yes, I think you are.”

“Good, then you know the answer to your question.” I rub my nose against hers, giving her a quick kiss just before the plane hits the runway.

When it finally comes to a stop, Sophie is in better spirits by how big her smile is. I take her purse and blanket, so she doesn’t have to carry anything as we walk down the steps.

“You don’t have to carry my purse, Matias. I can do it.”

“I know you can do it. It isn’t about that. You shouldn’t have to do it. I’ll carry everything for you. You’ll not lift a finger again.”

“It’s a hot pink purse,” she blushes. “Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“It will take a lot more than a purse to embarrass me, Sophie. Why would I be ashamed to carry your purse when just last night I had you come on my cock? I made you come. No one else. That’s the only power I’ll ever need.”

“Matias!” she giggles, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Thank you for trusting me with your flight, Mr. Milazzo. I look forward to flying for you again,” The Captain interrupts our moment.

“You’re the best, but Rebecca is not to return. She’s banned from any of my flights. Understood?”

He nods. “I will take care of that right away, Mr. Milazzo.”

“Thank you.” I give his hand a shake before making my way down the steps, where the limo is waiting for us.

The driver is already loading our luggage in the trunk. Sophie tries to open her own door, and I slam it shut with my hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

She gives me a dubious expression. “I’m getting into the car so we can go to the hotel.”

“Silly woman,” I tsk. “Don’t you know? Only I open your doors for you.” I do as I say, and she bites her lip all while shaking her head.

But she gets in.

I’m going to have this woman fall in love with me.

I toss her the blanket and hand the purse over to her.

“Mr. Milazzo, are we headed to the hotel, or would you like to stop somewhere first?”

I check the time. “Hotel.”

“Right away, Mr. Milazzo,” Andre states with a clean British accent.

He shuts the door and I wrap my arm around Sophie, curious as to why she would think tonight would go so badly. She’s the most real, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. There’s nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to that. I can only say so many things to make her feel better, but at the end of the day, she has to believe it.

I’m lost in my thoughts, wondering how I can have her see herself how I do, when we pull into the front of the five-star hotel.

As soon as the doors open, cameras flash from the paparazzi. I help Sophie out of the car and the flashes become quicker. She turns into me to hide her face, and I grab the closest camera and yank him to me.

“What the fuck? This is an expensive camera, man,” he says.

“I don’t give a fuck. If you care for your life—” I cast my eyes to all of them, waiting to take the next picture. “—You won’t take one more photo.” I drag him closer and whisper, “I’ve killed for so much less. Remember who the fuck you’re dealing with.” I shove him back, keeping one arm around Sophie while she hides her face in my chest.

I hurry us into the lobby, where security blocks anyone else from entering. I had forgotten all about the cameras. I’m not a celebrity at home. I’m feared. Here, they love to run any article faking a story to get on the front page, to have their fifteen minutes of fame.

“Are you okay?” I cup her face in my hands, cursing myself for not thinking this through. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking, Sophie.”

“I’m fine. Matias—” she places her palm against my cheek and the simple touch has me realizing how heavy I’m breathing. “Matias, I’m okay. It’s fine. I was shocked, but I’m not upset or anything. It’s okay.”

I press my forehead against hers, hating that I forgot. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. A man like you coming into town? There’s bound to be a story there, right?”

I wrap an arm around her waist and guide us to the front desk where a brunette woman with a tight bun pulled to the base of her skull greets us with a smile, but then instantly it vanishes when recognition hits her.

“Mr. Milazzo. You’re here.”

I lift one brow at her erratic behavior. “Obviously.”

“I’m so sorry. Someone was meant to call you.” She types furiously, her eyes falling from me to the screen in front of her every other second. “I’m so sorry.”

“For?” I don’t like it when people do this. Just say what you want to say instead of having me guess.

“Your penthouse suite was accidentally given to another.”

I give her a stern stare, taking a deep breath. It doesn’t matter how it happened or why. It can’t be fixed now. “Then I’ll take one of the other suites you have available.”

“They are booked as well.” Her voice breaks, redness tints her cheeks, and if I’m not mistaken, tears swim in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Milazzo. I—I don’t know how this happened. I can try to—oh god, please don’t kill me.”

I raise my brows and can’t help but laugh at her ridiculous thought. “Why would I kill you over this? It clearly isn’t your fault. You just work here and have to deal with someone else’s mistakes. That’s not what I waste my bullets on.”

“Bullets. Right,” she whispers, swallowing.

“What do you have available?” I ask, checking the time to realize we need to hurry to get ready for the gala.

“A double bed would be great if it’s available,” Sophie whispers.

I cut a hard glare to the girl behind the desk, telling her silently she better not put us in a room like that.

“I’m sorry. We only have a king-size bed available.”

“That’s perfect,” I tell her. “You have my card on file, I assume. Use that.”

“Yes, Mr. Milazzo.” She gives is two keys. “I’ve had two bottles of champagne sent to your room as an apology for the mix-up.”

“Is it—”

“—Your favorite. Yes, Mr. Milazzo.”

I give a slow tilt of my chin, impressed. “Thank you—” I glance down at her nametag. “Wendy. You’re officially off my kill list.”

Her face pales and her eyes widen.

I chuckle. “I’m kidding. It was a joke. Breathe, Wendy.” I take Sophie’s hand and lead her to the elevators, while my driver pushes the cart holding our luggage behind us.

“That was mean,” Sophie says, but I see her hiding her amusement.

“I have to get my kicks somewhere.” The elevator dings and we step inside.

My driver chuckles as well, but doesn’t say a word while we fall into an awkward silence as the elevator ascends. I can’t do what I really want to do. I can’t push her against the wall and slip my fingers under her panties to play with her clit.

Not with my driver here and not with her wanting time or space.

When the elevator comes to a stop, I sigh, not liking that I have to be in a regular room. This hotel is nice but regular rooms are for regular people.

I am not regular.

The marble slab of the floor is polished and clean, so there’s that.

I stop abruptly when we get to our room and swipe the card across the scanner. I hold the door open and Sophie steps inside the room, staring at the bed.

“Um,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sophie. We are adults. We can share a bed.”

And when we do, I have every intention of being inside her.