Trapped with the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Petrov Bratva) by Nicole Fox (best book recommendations txt) 📗

the headlights when I hear her pulling furiously on the passenger door handle. When she realizes it’s futile, she curses loudly, and I barely manage to bite back a smile.

She studies the roads as we drive through the city, memorizing our path. I want to tell her it doesn’t matter, but the task keeps her quiet, so I let her waste her time.

When I pull up in front of the hotel, she turns to me, brows pinched together. “Why are we here?”

“We need a place to lie low.” There’s a line in front of us for the valet. It’s short, maybe only a few minutes’ wait. But that’s a few minutes of Bella prodding me, pestering me with questions, raising my blood pressure.

She leans forward to look out the window, up at the hotel. It’s thirty floors high, at least. A reflective tower that takes up most of a city block. “This is where we’re lying low?”

“The phrase isn’t literal. We won’t actually be lying low.”

“If you weren’t such a dick,” she says, placing special emphasis on the insult. “You might be funny.”

When I don’t answer, she shifts in her seat, her hands wedged under her thighs. Silence makes her uncomfortable. Which makes sense, given how frequently she feels the need to talk. “What are we doing here though? Why wasn’t the last place good enough?”

“Did you prefer the cell? I can take you back if you’d like.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she huffs. “Your father seemed nervous when I talked about the men my dad met with. Who were they?”

We’ll talk about this later. Or not. I haven’t decided yet.

“You want me to cooperate and be a good little girl, but I can’t do that if I’m stumbling around in the dark,” she says, loud enough I’m afraid a passing valet can hear her. He turns slightly towards the car, but professionalism compels him to keep moving and not try to look through the windows.

“Keep it down,” I hiss, my upper body remaining still while my hand darts across the console and squeezes just above her knee.

“I will if you tell me what in the hell is going on,” she shouts.

This time, I’m sure one of the bellhops scooping suitcases onto a metal cart can hear Bella’s high-pitched shrills, and I have to contain this. Now.

“Men are coming for you,” I say flatly, trying not to let her see how nervous I’m. “The pins you saw belong to a secret society in Russia, and if those men were meeting with your father, he’s under their thumb.”

Bella’s long hair falls over her shoulder, and she tucks a lock of it behind her ear. She needs a shower and a change of clothes, but even mussed and greasy, she’s effortlessly beautiful. “What does that mean? Under their thumb?”

I sigh, inching the SUV forward. We’re next in line, and this conversation can’t happen in public. No one can overhear us. “It means that, whether he wants to be or not, your father answers to them. And it explains why he’s stopped responding to us.”

She shakes her head. “So, you’re hiding me here because the men he’s working for were coming to rescue me?”

“Rescue you? No,” I say, chuckling softly.

“But my father is working with them, so—”

“Your father was also working with my father,” I say by way of explanation. “Would it comfort you if my father was coming to your rescue?”

Her cheeks blanch, and I nod. “That’s what I thought.”

The car in front of us pulls ahead, and the man behind the valet desk waves me forward. I hesitate and turn to Bella. “You stay quiet and you smile. You look pleasant until we get up to the room. If you do anything to draw attention to us, I will kill you.”

“Yeah, because that won’t draw any unwanted attention,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes.

I ignore her and continue. “If you try to escape or wave down help, I will kill you. If you—”

“I get it,” Bella snaps. Then she points to the valet stand. “You’re drawing attention to us by holding up the line. I promise to follow your lead if you promise to stop threatening to kill me.”

I’m glad to have the promise of her cooperation, but I also feel less in control than ever. Bella acts like she isn’t even scared of me. Like I’m an annoying fly buzzing around her ear that she has to swat away. But I don’t have time to worry about that now because she’s right, the valet looks impatient, and a car in the line behind us honks.

When we pull up, the valet opens Bella’s door first, offering her his hand. I practically spring around the car so I’m waiting for her on the curb, my eyes never leaving hers as the thin man in the pressed black suit helps her to the curb, all the while ogling her chest.

“Are you two here for any special occasion? Honeymoon? Anniversary?” he asks, fishing to see whether she’s single. His eyes glance down to her left hand, checking for a ring.

“No,” Bella laughs easily, patting his forearm. “We aren’t together. Not like that, anyway.”

“Oh?” He looks delighted.

I frown at her, shaking my head lightly to discourage whatever role she’s playing, but Bella either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Just business partners,” she says, reaching out to pat my shoulder. The simple gesture sends a zing down my right arm, and I try to ignore it. “I’m single.”

“Oh.” The valet’s pale face goes red as he sees the look in Bella’s eyes. The soft rise of her eyebrows, the flutter of her lashes. She pouts out her lips in a way that makes me want to brush the pad of my thumb across them. “Then maybe you would want to get a drink in the bar later? I get off in a few hours.”

Bella opens her mouth to say something, but I end this little flirtation before it can get out of hand. “We have a meeting tonight,