Hunted By A Shadow: Chapter 27
Hunted By A Shadow (Kings Of Mafia)
Iâm still recovering from the heart attack Renzo just gave me when he suddenly darts forward again. Iâm shoved back down, and before I know whatâs happening, his mouth slams into mine.
My mind comes to a screeching halt, and I donât even have the capacity to gasp.
I wanted to make him care about me, but I never expected my plan to work so quickly. Hell, all I did was smile at him and show a little interest.
His lips move hungrily against mine, and it feels unbelievably good.
Shit. No feelings, woman. This isnât a romance. Itâs your ticket out of here.
It takes a hell of a lot of effort to remember my plan, and keeping with the act, I wrap my arms around his neck.
Renzo tilts his head, and as his teeth tug at my bottom lip, the kiss spirals into a wild force that threatens to overwhelm me.
Holy shit. Focus.
His tongue sweeps through my mouth, and my abdomen clenches hard while my stomach erupts with a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
Instead of having to put in effort to return the kiss, it just happens, and before I know it, Iâm lost. His body presses against mine, and it makes anticipation and need build within me.
This man is like the apple in the Garden of Eden, and just like Eve, Iâm tempted to take a bite.
My teeth tug at his bottom lip, and my tongue wars with his.
His addictive scent fills the air I breathe.
His hard cock presses against my thigh.
His mouth casts a spell over me until my plan is nowhere in sight, and Iâm solely focused on how good it feels to kiss him.
With his one hand clamped around my neck, his other moves down the right side of my body until he reaches the bare skin of my outer thigh.
His touch has tingles racing over me, and I move my hands to the sides of his jaw. Our lips knead, and our tongues taste, creating so much friction Iâm not sure I can remember my name right now.
His hand moves up, and when his fingers brush over the surgery scar, he pulls away as if I just burned him.
It happens so fast. One second heâs devouring me, and the next, he gets up and stalks away.
Iâm left lying on the balcony floor, blinking like an idiot.
What the hell was that?
Iâm not talking about him walking away. Iâm referring to the way I returned his kiss. The way I freaking loved it.
Holy shit. No.
Renzo is a killer. A criminal. A freaking mafia boss.
He kidnapped me and hurt Dad.
He killed Dr. Bentall.
Pressing my hand to my stomach, I suck in desperate breaths.
Renzo is your enemy. Never forget that. Youâre just making him care, so heâll let you go. This is all part of the plan.
Feeling calmer, I get up off the floor and head inside. I shut the sliding door, and when I walk past the living room, I find Renzo taking a sip of whiskey.
I stop and stare at the man who just kissed the ever-loving hell out of me. My eyes glide over his muscular body, the impeccable three-piece suit, and his ruffled hair, which normally doesnât have a hair out of place.
His features are drawn tight, and the air around him feels tense.
Renzoâs eyes flick to me, and I consider running to the safety of my bedroom.
That would defeat the purpose. Stay right where you are.
His gaze remains locked on me as he takes a sip of his drink, the sight hot and a little unnerving.
Damn, the man is heartbreakingly attractive.
And he just kissed me.
Stick to the plan. It doesnât matter how hot he is.
He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing on me as if he knows Iâm up to something.
I take a step forward and gesturing in the direction of the dining room, I say, âThanks for that.â Realizing it sounds like Iâm thanking him for the kiss, I quickly add, âFor saving me even though I wasnât planning to jump.â
His voice is low and deep when he murmurs, âTwenty-seven yellow cabs?â
I shrug and take another step closer to him. âThereâs not a lot for me to do here. I was just passing the time.â
When I take another step, the corner of his mouth lifts as if heâs amused. âWhat are you doing, topolina?â
I shake my head and feign innocence. âWhat do you mean?â
He takes another sip of his drink, just staring at me as I slowly inch closer as if Iâm approaching a wild animal.
My stomach is a ball of nerves, but I donât stop until Iâm standing right in front of him.
I suck at flirting, but here goes nothing.
Reaching for the glass in his hand, I take it from him and help myself to a sip before handing it back. I need the alcohol to be brave.
Giving the man my best provocative expression, I say, âYou kissed me.â
Heâs still watching me with amusement as he murmurs, âI did.â
Lifting a hand, I run a finger over the buttons of his vest. âWant to continue what you started?â
Suddenly, laughter bursts from him, and he sets the tumbler down before shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.
âIâm curious to see how far youâll take this,â he says as he looks at me again.
Crap. Heâs not falling for the act.
Changing tactics, I let out a sigh, and crossing my arms over my chest, I force myself to think of Dad and the state he was in so the memory will bring tears to my eyes.
With my chin trembling, I say, âCan you blame me, Renzo? Iâm lonely. Is it so hard to believe I crave human interaction?â
The amusement vanishes from his face, and his breathing actually speeds up.
Did the threatening tears actually work?
He stares at me for a moment, then whispers, âThatâs the first time youâve said my name.â
It is?
âIâm sure Iâve said it before.â
He shakes his head. âNo, you havenât.â
I take in his strong reaction to hearing his name and wonder why it matters.
âRenzo,â I say it again. âRenzo Torrisi.â
His expression grows serious, and his eyes sharpen on me. âThatâs enough mind games for one night.â
Lifting my chin, I say, âIâm not playing mind games.â When he walks past me, I hurry to add, âIâm stuck here forever. The least you can do is let me get to know you better.â
He stops walking, and standing with his back to me, he asks, âWhat do you want to know?â
âAnything.â
âIâm thirty-five, canât cook to save my life, and love long walks on the beach.â Turning around, he gives me a mocking smile. âMy favorite color is blue.â
Letting out a sigh, I lift my hand and push some hair behind my ear. âYouâre being impossible.â
His expression darkens as he takes a step back toward me. âWhat do you want to hear, topolina? Iâve killed eighty-seven people. Some quicker than others.â He takes another step, and it feels like Iâm being hunted. âI smuggle illegal arms and deal with people who would leave you traumatized for life if you ever met them.â
Another step brings him almost toe-to-toe with me.
He leans down a little. âAnd right now, Iâm thinking about forcing you to marry me so you can give me the heir I lost. After all, Iâm stuck with you for life. I might as well get something out of it.â
Jesus.
Iâm so rattled the only thing I can say in my defense is, âI have to wait a year before I can have children.â
For the second time tonight, he lets out a burst of laughter before saying, âThanks for the heads-up. Iâll make sure to buy condoms when I go to the store again so I donât get you pregnant before the year is up.â
Not winning with this man, anger starts to bubble in my chest, making me stupidly brave.
âGood. Make sure you stock up. I havenât had sex in years,â I snap.
The man gives me whiplash as his expression turns serious again. âHow many years?â
Frowning at him, I mutter, âSeriously?â
âHow many fucking years?â he barks.
âFive.â
His eyebrow lifts. âWant me to rectify that problem right now?â
What?
I move backward until Iâm out of his reach. âItâs not a problem, and no thanks, Iâll pass.â
When he comes closer, desire tightens his features, and while Iâm stunned by the sudden change in his mood, he lifts his hand to my face. His thumb tugs at my bottom lip as he leans closer, and I find myself holding my breath.
Instead of kissing me, his lips brush along my jaw until he reaches my ear. âCareful, my little mouse. Two can play this game, and Iâm much better at it than you.â
âIâm not playing a game,â I whisper as I bring my hands to his sides.
He pulls back until our eyes meet. âI deal with thieves and murderers on a daily basis. I can smell a lie a mile away.â
Crap.
The corner of his mouth lifts. âYou donât really want to get to know me.â
Damn, heâs good.
I swallow hard because Iâm all out of ideas.
What do I do now?
He tilts his head, and this time, when he leans forward, his mouth brushes against mine. âBut I do want to get to know you.â
That means heâs definitely attracted to me. I just have to find a way to use it to my advantage.
âWhat do you want to know?â I ask.
His tone is downright predatory as he whispers, âEverything.â
Giving him a taste of his own medicine, I say, âIâm thirty, excellent at cooking, and beach sand makes me itch. My favorite color is green.â
A genuine smile spreads over his face, and it leaves me a little breathless because he looks way too freaking hot for me to handle.
âIs ginger your natural color?â
âYes.â
He moves away from me and takes off his jacket. My eyes lock on the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants before he takes a seat on one of the couches. He rests his arm on the back of the couch, then gestures with a jerk of his head for me to take a seat.
Only when I sit down on one of the other couches does he ask, âHave you always wanted to be a chef?â
A smile tugs at my mouth. âYes. My mom taught me how to cook, and I always found it relaxing.â
âWere you planning on working at a restaurant again?â
âYes. I had a list of four restaurants I was going to visit so theyâd know Iâm available as a sous chef.â Scrunching my nose, I correct myself. âMake that three. The one reminds me too much of you, which is a pity. It was one of my favorites.â
He lets out a burst of laughter. âHow the fuck do I remind you of a restaurant?â
âLa Torrisi,â I say.
Again, he laughs, and it makes me smile.
âIf youâd walked into my restaurant, I wouldâve given you the job.â
âPity you donât own one,â I mutter.
âI do.â
Actually feeling relaxed, I ask, âYeah? Which one?â
His expression turns playful. âTake a wild guess.â
The list of restaurants in New York runs through my mind until I stop on one. My lips part, and my eyes widen. âAre you serious? La Torrisi?â
When he nods, I can only shake my head. âI donât believe you.â My mind races, then I say, âThe manager is Viviana Corso.â
âElioâs wife.â
Not remembering the name, I ask, âElio?â
âMy right-hand man. Youâve seen him at the warehouse.â
âThe one always sitting behind the desk in the office?â
When he nods, Iâm still skeptical. Thereâs no way he owns one of the best restaurants in New York.
âYou still donât believe me,â he murmurs.
âNo.â
He gets up and grabs the remote from the coffee table. Switching on the TV, he searches for a folder out of the many ones on the screen and clicks on it.
Come to think of it. Iâve never seen Renzo watch regular TV. He just uses it as if itâs an oversized computer screen.
The next moment, thereâs a live stream of the restaurant on the TV, and my lips part in another gasp.
Renzo takes his phone out of his pocket, and as he dials a number, he says, âKeep your eyes on the screen.â
A second later, he says, âHi, Viviana. I can see youâre busy. I just need you to wave at the camera.â
I watch as the manager waves, a smile on her face.
âIâll drop by tomorrow,â he tells her before ending the call.
Holy shit.
I canât stop staring at the screen, and Renzo has to switch off the TV before I turn my attention back to him.
âYour fatherâs house is not the only place I watch. I like to keep an eye on all my businesses.â
Renzo owns La Torrisi.
I blink at him for a solid minute before I ask, âWhy be a criminal if you have such an amazing restaurant?â
âBeing a criminal is my birthright. I was born into the Cosa Nostra and took over when my father died.â
âStill. Canât you just leave?â
A smirk forms on his face. âThe Cosa Nostra is my family, topolina. They come first.â He waves at the TV. âMy other businesses are purely a source of income.â
He leans back against the couch again and watches me, the playful expression still on his face.
Today, Iâve seen a side of this man thatâs left me speechless.
This mafia boss who kills without blinking an eye and kisses like the devil is also a businessman with a playful side.
And I get the feeling I havenât even scratched the surface. Thereâs a hell of a lot more to learn about him.