Unprotected with the Mob Boss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Alekseiev Bratva) by Fox, Nicole (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📗

“Very patriotic,” Lev remarks.

“He recognized your name?” I ask. When he doesn’t answer, I look over at him. He’s looking up at the blue fairy lights that crawl over the ceiling. “Lev?”

He glances back down at me, forcing a smile. “Unfortunately, my father and I share the same last name and he was less than friendly with the police. I’m guilty by association.”

“You are guilty, period,” I say.

“Semantics. And they wouldn’t know that if it wasn’t for him.”

He pulls a bit away from me. It would be barely noticeable to anyone else, but I feel the slight absence of body heat and miss it instantly. I turn my focus to each person in the ballroom, trying to forget all of the guilt between us and attempting to find my parents hidden among the crowd.

A group of people moves away from the bar. Talking to the bartender are two people, polar opposites. The man, with his dark gray hair and his broad frame, stands tall, posture rigid with years of ingrained discipline. The woman, with her dyed blonde hair and tiny frame, leans against the bar, laughing at a joke that no one else is laughing at.

My parents.

They’re slanted away from me, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been caught. I am the worst kind of person—I let a man die in front of me, I lusted for a murderer, I dreamed up an extravagant con to fool my parents and all their friends, and I’m going to marry a man who is involved with one of the most powerful crime syndicates the city has suffered under.

I’d disown me if I were them.

“Take a breath,” Lev says. His body is pressed against mine, his hands on my hips. He told me the same thing the night he killed that man on the motorcycle. I try to force in a breath, but the thought of that man, his limp body on the side of the road; the memory of the celebratory ambience in Black Glacier before I followed Jeffrey Douglas, collides in my head.

The breath gets caught in my throat. I press my hand against my chest, bending down to try to get it out.

Lev is saying something, but I’m too far under to hear him. He guides me away from the middle of the room. I barely notice. I try to think of something else, but the loud music pounds in my head just like the music at Black Glacier did.

I can smell the pepper spray.

I can feel the fear. Like it’s only been buried under my façade this whole time. It never went away. It just waited until I was vulnerable.

Lev’s hands are in my hair. When his lips touch my mouth, the smell of the pepper spray fades, replaced by his scent of smoke and spice. When he pulls my hips tight against his, his lips moving against mine recklessly, the fear is burned away by the contradiction of need and satisfaction. His fingers trail down my spine and there is nothing in the world except where his fingers touch.

He steps away from me and my breathing slowly becomes more natural. His hair isn’t as neat as it had been. I don’t recall my hands being anywhere near his head, but they must have been.

His hand cups my cheek. “You’re okay now?”

I nod. He looks sideways. An older couple is staring at us.

“Hey,” he says. Like a pair of deer frightened by a gunshot, they scurry away and don’t look back.

Lev turns back to me. “We need to talk to your parents. You don’t want them to find out from the man checking IDs or that couple.”

I nod several times, but I don’t move.

“Allison,” he says. His hand brushes down my arm. “It will be quick. We came late on purpose. The dinner is going to start soon.”

“People already know we’re together,” I say. “So, let’s just leave. You got what you wanted.”

“What I wanted is for your father to be fully aware of the situation,” he says. His hand drops. Anxiety floods back into my body. I reach toward him, but he takes a step back. “There are two options. Either I kiss you right in the middle of this room like we just fucked, or you go over and tell your parents. Both options will get their full attention.”

Hate is a strong word, but entirely accurate in this moment.

I walk alone down the center of the room. With Lev by my side, the heels had begun to feel empowering and sensual, but without him, they feel unfamiliar and cumbersome.

When I turn my head, Lev is a few feet behind me and his eyes flit up from my ass. He shrugs, guilty but unashamed. I refrain from flipping him off.

I need to remember that, no matter how sweet or caring he acts, this is all he wants. I’m a pawn in his massive game of chess.

As I’m nearly in front of my parents, my mother turns. For a couple of seconds, she doesn’t recognize me. The location, the dress, the hair, the makeup—it all turns me into a stranger. The recognition slowly dawns on her.

“Ally!” she nearly yells, though I’m right beside her. She throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly. My father turns around. “I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you tell us? This is so great. I feel like I haven’t heard from you in years.”

“I, um, I wanted to surprise you,” I say. My father pulls me into a hug.

“It’s good to see you,” he says. “You look beautiful. How did you get in? Did Michael just let you in?”

“No, uh …” I bend the clutch in my hands. “I’ve … there’s something I need to tell both of you. Something important.”

I could tell the truth right now. Lev isn’t within earshot. My father would arrest him without evidence and jam him as far up the ass