Page 1 of Mafia Book Boyfriend
Prologue
Welcome to the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency
In a world where reality often fails to live up to the fantasies we find between the pages of our favorite books, one company dared to ask: What if you could actually meet your dream book boyfriend?
Enter the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency, the brainchild of a group of a hopeless romantic and tech genius who believes that everyone deserves a chance to live out their literary fantasies. With cutting-edge technology and a vast database of eligible bachelors, the agency promises to match you with the book boyfriend of your dreams.
Imagine sipping coffee with Mr. Darcy, exploring the streets of Paris with a charming French aristocrat, or even spending an evening with a dangerous, yet alluring mobster. At the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency, the possibilities are endless.
But there’s a catch… The line between fiction and reality can blur when you least expect it.
So, if you’re ready to take a chance on love and embark on an adventure straight out of the pages of your favorite romance, look no further than the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency. Your dream date awaits.
Get ready to swoon, laugh, and maybe even find your own happily ever after. The Book Boyfriend Dating Agency is open for business, and your story is about to begin…
Adorra
“Adorra, have you lost your mind?” I zipped up my overstuffed suitcase, phone wedged between my ear and shoulder as ‘Liya’s voice squawked through the speaker. “It was bad enough when you signed up for the Book Boyfriend hook-up service—”
“Not a hook-up,” I muttered, trying to explain for the thousandth time. I got that she didn’t understand, but to me, it was brilliant. Match women with a man based on their favorite romance hero. We’d spent most of our lives fantasizing about these guys. Wasn’t it time to finally meet one?
“You can’t just fly off to Greece to meet some guy you’ve only known for a few weeks?” Aaliyah continued, completely oblivious that I’d tuned her out. “Girl, have you never watched the evening news or a true crime documentary? Hell, a Lifetime movie?”
“Which one?” I asked—curious about what I’d missed.
“Any of them—all of them. C’mon, you know the movies I’m talking about. Not to mention the fact that he’s in the Mafia. Who picks Mafia? What’s wrong with you?”
“I like Mafia romance books. That’s why I want to write one,” I said, dropping onto my bed. “Besides, it’s not like that, ‘Liya. The agency vetted him. They are so thorough, I even had to give a blood sample for an STD screen—”
“Okay, that makes me feel a little better. At least they have his DNA. You know, in case we never hear from you again.”
“Will you stop it? You’re too young to worry this much.” I switched the phone to the other ear. “Did I mention his grandmother’s chaperoning me on the flight?”
“Oh, well, that makes it all better,” ‘Liya drawled. “His sweet old granny will protect you from the made man if he turns into a psycho.”
“Xander’s not a psycho,” I protested, remembering his laughing eyes during our video chats. “He’s… intense, yeah, but also funny. Really funny, actually.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m sure his family business of breaking kneecaps is hilarious.”
I closed my eyes, picturing Xander’s face from our last call. Those dark eyes had seemed to look right through me, even through a screen. “Look, I know it sounds crazy. But this is my chance, ‘Liya. How else am I supposed to write about this world?”
“I don’t know. Research? A newspaper, maybe?” A pause. Then, softer: “I get it, Dora. Your writing dream means everything to you. But is it worth risking your safety?”
“It’s not just about the book anymore,” I admitted quietly, surprising myself with the truth of it. “I… I like him.”
“Oh honey,” ‘Liya sighed. “Just… promise me you’ll be careful. And call every day, or I swear I’ll hop on the next flight to Greece myself.”
“I promise,” I said, smiling. “Love you, ‘Liya.”
“Love you too, crazy woman.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone aside, surveying the explosion of clothes covering every surface of my tiny bedroom. What did one pack for two weeks with a Greek mafia… boyfriend? I pressed my belly to stop the freefall. Maybe I was crazy.
Focus, Adorra.
I double-checked my luggage. In less than twenty-four hours, I’d be face-to-face with the man whose smile had kept me awake for weeks. I’d told myself a hundred times this was research. But I was more curious about what his lips tasted like than I’d ever been about la Cosa Nostra. Yep, definitely crazy.
The private airfield was nothing like I’d imagined. A sleek jet emblazoned with “Lionsbridge Shipping” waited on the tarmac, its polished surface gleaming in the morning sun. An older woman with silver-streaked dark hair stood at the foot of the stairs.