Page 21 of The Gangster King
In fifteen more days.
So I need Dante to move his stupidly sexy ass out of my house so I can get organized and finish my...plan to escape.
If my father finds him here, there is a risk he could send me to one of the families he’s planning to marry me off to.
I know he’s close.
I’m twenty-six, and he’s mentioned it many times.
But I’m curious about Gianna.
Dante turns in response to my question and stares at me like I’m his next meal. I hate that I wish I was, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting him touch me again. Everything I’ve worked for would be thrown out the window.
I know him.
If I let him fuck me, he’d claim me like the dominant gangster predator he is.
I also hate every second that he’s on my computer. What if he findsIllicit Ink? I closed down all my browsers and my business files are all encrypted, but for all I know, Dante knows his way around a computer.
Like he does a weapon.
And a woman’s body.
God, the way his tongue weaved its way through my flesh as I flickered into consciousness. I knew it was him. I allowed myself to remain in a sleepy state, not wanting the pleasure to end.
Until I had to.
I trail my eyes along the roped muscles of his arms down to the ring on his hand that signifies his position as a senior member of one of the five families in New York.
Now the don.
His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and sits on his hips. I know it shows the round curve of his ass—I’ve been staring at it all night.
But if I’m honest, it’s not the dark curls and scruff on Dante’s face that has held me spellbound—as I know many other women have been affected—it’s his icy-blue gaze that gets under my skin. It’s cold, mysterious, and deadly. Yet when it lands on me, I feel like I’m falling into a black hole where I’ll never be able to breathe.
Dante consumes me.
I’m running from my father, this life, and him.
“Braxton Rossi,” Dante replies, rubbing his jaw. “She’s missing, but I suspect she’s with him.”
“Missing? What do you mean?”
“He’s the reason we were busted. Salvatore had him checked out while Gianna went gaga over him.”
Wow.
That’s not like her. Men are normally tripping over themselves to be with Gianna. For obvious reasons—she’s absolutely stunning.
I know I’m a pretty woman. My long dark Italian hair isn’t so different from hers, but where I repel men who show interest, she...well, she uses them as much as they use her right back.
But togo gagaover one? That’s new.
“How did she meet him?” I ask, now even more curious. Dante lowers his brows and stares at me without answering, and I shake my head. “What?”
“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair as he begins pacing at the end of my bed.
“I mean, if it’s some confidential story, that’s fine, you don’t need to t—”