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doesn’t he?”

“He doesn’t like when things get in the way of business,” Gian said. “It’s not personal.”

“Feels personal.” I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “What the hell do we do now? I feel like everyone’s coming for us, and I have nowhere to run.”

“Now we go shopping,” Gian said. “There’s a mall not far from here. We’ll get you a whole new wardrobe, and don’t complain about money.”

I let out a long breath. “All right,” I said. “But this doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

He laughed darkly, pulled the truck out, and took me to the mall.

8

Gian

The girl filled her closet with clothes and spent the rest of the day organizing them. I took calls from my soldiers while she gently unwrapped lavish dresses she’d likely never wear, cream-colored cardigans in cashmere and lace, underwear that cost more than my truck, tight jeans and tight tights and yoga pants and over-the-shoulder sweaters like an ‘80s workout video and jeans in all different shades of blue with various rips and tears, and delicate button-downs, and piles and piles of things I didn’t recognized.

I spent a small fortune. It didn’t seem to make her any happier, but at least she’d look good.

Stefano sounded annoyed when he finally picked up his phone. “Where the hell have you been?” he asked. “I feel like I’m running this crew alone.”

“That’s because you are,” I said. “Give me an update.”

“Not much happening.” He sounded a little winded, but that was Stefano, always running around with nowhere to go. “Products moving on schedule.”

“We hear anything from our friends?”

“All’s quiet,” he said and laughed. “What, you expecting something?”

“Yeah,” I said, “I am. You going to be at Filthy Frank’s tonight?”

“That was the plan, unless you’ve got something else you need me to do.”

“Bring the guys,” I said. “See you then.”

I hung up then found Ash standing in front of a floor-length mirror, holding a simple low-cut black shirt up against her chest. She glanced at me then back to the mirror.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“It’d look better on my floor,” I said.

She rolled her eyes and gave me a look then tossed it onto the bed. “Thanks for all this, by the way,” she said.

“Least I could do, considering what you’re going through.”

She sat down next to the discarded shirt and leaned back on her elbows. Her long, lean legs kicked out in front of her and I let my eyes roam up along her bare feet to her calves, along the glistening, gorgeous skin of her thighs to her tight jean shorts, her daisy dukes just barely covering her sweet, round ass, and up along her chest, a hint of her breasts showing beneath her plaid shirt, and finally to her eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you with something?” she asked. “Or did you plan on standing there and eye fucking me all day?”

“If you want to put on a show, I wouldn’t argue,” I said.

She smiled, grabbed the shirt, and threw it at me. I caught it and tossed it aside. “Seriously, what are you staring at me for?” she asked.

“We’re going out tonight,” I said, and didn’t add, and I was thinking about how you’d look stripped naked and standing in front of me. I’d been inside this girl, had some of the best sex of my life, and I still hadn’t seen her completely naked yet.

That’d have to change.

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood,” she said.

“I want you to meet my crew,” I said. “And this isn’t an option.”

She arched an eyebrow. “If that’s how it’s going to be, I’ll leave right now. I’m not interested in running away from one demanding asshole only to stay with another.”

I sighed and held up a hand. “Fair point. I won’t force you. But I’d like it if you came.”

“Fine.” She sat up. “Where are we going?”

“Filthy Frank’s,” I said.

She made a face. “Isn’t that some piece of crap dive bar?”

“I own that piece of crap dive bar,” I said, frowning slightly.

“My condolences.” She beamed. “Should I dress up?”

“Whatever you like,” I said, shaking my head. Little princess was going to be a problem. I kept forgetting this girl was from money. “How about you pick out something I’d like.”

“I have a feeling you’d like anything I wore,” she said, grinning.

I turned away and stepped into the hall. “I’d prefer it if you wore absolutely nothing, but yeah, pretty much,” I said, and walked back to the kitchen smiling to myself.

This was going to be complicated, but having a beautiful girl lounging around my house wasn’t so bad, at least not yet.

She chose a short black pleated skirt, a tight black crop top with a white mid-length jacket over top, and a pair of black sneakers with a white sole. Her hair was down and slightly wavy, and she wore dark red lipstick. I expected her to look good, but the girl cleaned up really good, I had to admit. Her legs looked like they went on forever, and that slight hint of midriff showed off smooth, tan skin.

“What’s your crew like, anyway?” she asked on the drive over. “You haven’t talked about them much.”

“They’re all different,” I said, shrugging. “My top lieutenant’s name is Stefano. He’s a good guy.”

“I think ‘good’ is probably a relative term, considering you’re all in the mafia,” she said, stretching a little, arching her back with a small smile. I could’ve sworn the girl was doing it to catch my attention.

“Fair enough,” I said, “but compared to some of the others, he’s a goddamn saint. There’s Tomaso, he’s young and new, and I think he might be a psychopath, and then Aaron, he’s been around forever and killed more men than I can count, then—”

“Hold on,” she said, shaking her head. “Killed guys?”

I glanced at her and shrugged. “Mafia,” I said.

She sighed. “Right. Okay. You kill people. Got it.”

I was quiet for a moment. I didn’t know how much I should

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