Mafia Princess

by Bella J

  Excitement? Of course I would feel excitement since I had the natural talent to break rules whenever I got the damn chance. I believe some people called it masochistic tendencies.

  I needed to leave…now.

  Abruptly I turned around and headed to the door, only to realize that there was no doorknob, or any way to open the damn door from the inside.

  Annoyed to no fucking end, I swing around and glared at him.

  “Is there something wrong, Miss Valenti?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Open the damn door.”

  And there he goes again biting his bottom lip, his gaze starting at my black stiletto heels, slowly moving up my legs, stopping at my knees just below my black pencil skirt before continuing up my body. With every damn second that passed, it felt like his stare was touching me, caressing every inch he saw. The sexual tension that suddenly pulsed all around us made it almost impossible to breathe. It sucked every breath out of my lungs and it felt like the temperature in here fucking skyrocketed.

  While I’m basically hyperventilating on the spot, I watched as he got up from his chair and stalked in my direction, his intense gaze practically pinning me against the damn door behind me. With every step he took, it was like my body automatically responded to him. He’s about six foot four of pure muscle and malice—rough around the edges with a wild, untamed streak in every goddamn move he made. Definitely not like all the other detectives at this precinct. The others certainly didn’t force images of wild nights and satin sheets clinging to our sweaty bodies into my head—not like Detective Stone was doing right now. Especially with that mouth of his slightly parted, promises of dark desires and decadent pleasures hanging from his lips.

  Unbelievable.

  I’m a strong woman. Men hardly ever intimidate me, and seducing me was no easy task. But this man? This man had my attention for nothing more than a few minutes and already my mind was filled with dirty thoughts and wild fantasies.

  He stopped about two feet away from me, his face inches from mine. I felt his warm breath skid across my cheek, and the sensation stormed straight through my body, settling right between my thighs.

  As he leaned closer, the warmth of his breath started to stir an array of sensations all through my body. My heart was now jackhammering against my ribs, my throat feeling like the damn desert.

  When he lifted his arm, his gaze never leaving mine, I sucked in a breath. And then he reached behind me, his lips mere inches from mine before he pushed a button right next to my head and said, “Monroe, open the door for Miss Valenti.”

  I think I died. I’m dead. I died and collapsed into a giant puddle of pathetic womanhood.

  The click of the door sounded behind me and I was out of there faster than you could say ‘what the fuck was that?’

  As my heels clicked down the hall, my heartbeat slowly returning to normal, I heard a second pair of footsteps behind me.

  “You in town long, Miss Valenti?”

  I take a deep breath, but I don’t slow down. “You’re the detective, you tell me.”

  “I’m guessing no more than a few weeks?”

  “Is that you guessing, or saying?”

  He falls into step next to me. “I’m going to go with guessing.”

  I stop and turned to face him. “You’re good, Detective, I’ll give you that. But let’s say you’re right—and I’m not saying you are—but if I am the daughter of an Italian-American Mafia boss, as you suspect I am, you’ve got real balls summoning me down here and then putting me in a damn interrogation room like a fucking criminal. I’d say that wasn’t a very smart move, Detective.”

  His eyes studied my face, and I don’t even blink. Heck, I don’t even fucking breathe.

  “Are you threatening me, Karina?” Lord help me, but the way my name rolled off his lips was like eroticism on fucking steroids. It was like porn to my ears.

  I take a step back trying to ignore the tingles spreading through my bones like wildfire, and I squared my shoulders.

  “Not at all.” I lift my voice a single octave. “I’m merely stating that if what you said was true, you just made one hell of a rookie mistake.”

  With my words hanging in the air like the threat it was meant to be, I turned on my heel and sashayed my curvy ass out of there. I could feel his eyes on me the entire time, until I exited the building.

  The moment I stepped outside, I took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill my lungs. The feeling that was currently scratching against every bone in my body was just too damn familiar. I’ve experienced this before, the feeling of a man being able to electrify my body without even touching me. It’s unnerving, yet exciting at the same time. But I also learned the hard way that it’s also powerful enough to bring me to my knees. I promised myself that I would never let a man affect me like that again. Too much was at stake, and I already had too many regrets because I gave into that temptation once.

  But by God, my body felt like it was on fire just having Detective Stone’s eyes on me. He wasn’t even touching me, or even close to touching me, for that matter. There’s sweat running down my back, for God’s sake. That’s how he managed to affect me within less than twenty five minutes.

  It’s the eyes. It had to be those dark fucking eyes. Devil eyes, that’s what they were. Dark windows into the demonic world where he could make you offer up sweet, innocent little puppies with a single glance. Damn, I’m pretty sure he would make you want to toss in a tiny kitten as well, just for good measure.

  I exhaled and looked up to the sky. Was this the universe’s way of playing one sick joke on me, showing me that no matter how hard I tried to put the past behind me, there was no way of escaping who I was? A woman drawn to the forbidden, charmed by the prospects of breaking rules, and resisting authority by walking on the edge?

  No. Not again. Never.

  Chapter 3

  LORIK

  In life you get two types of women. You get the women who think they’re hot, pretending like they know how to use their bodies to get a man’s attention, but in actual fact they don’t. Sure they will probably end up getting a man’s attention—or should I say responsiveness—every now and then, but only because seeing how pathetic they are guarantees a quick and easy lay. Not a good lay, just an easy one. You know, like a good jerk off in the shower. It doesn’t satisfy you completely, but it’s sufficient enough to get you through the day.

  And then you get the kind of women who don’t need to use their bodies to get a man’s attention at all. They don’t walk around thinking ‘if I sway my ass a little to this side, and then a little to that side I’ll get the men drooling’. No. They walk the way they walk, and they talk the way they talk. And without them even trying, sexual energy just seeps through every pore, sensuality emanating from their every move, and they wear eroticism like a second fucking skin.

  So guess which kind of woman Karina Valenti was? Yup, she was the kind that managed to get my balls aching and my cock twitching within a matter of minutes. And while I was staring at that gorgeous, curvy ass hugged tight in her black pencil skirt as she walked out the station, all I could think about was seeing those cheeks jiggle while I pounded into her from behind. And those legs, those calves—good God, I wanted them wrapped around my neck squeezing the fucking air out of me while I feasted on the sweetness tucked away between her legs.

  The second she was out the door I pulled my hand through my hair, trying to get my raging hard on under control. The way her lips moved when she talked, the way confidence leaked from her every word, it was like everything she just did during the last twenty-five minutes had a direct line to my dick. That’s never happened to me before—sober. All the other times women happened to have that effect on me was while I had more tequila and rum in my system than white blood cells and platelets. And it was usually those pathetic women—you know, the quick and easy lays.

  “Stone!”

  Ah crap. Like one run-in with the devil wasn’t enough.

 
I sighed before turning around, and watched as the Commander came storming my way. Judging by the way his nostrils flared and the smoke coming out of his ears, I’d say he was pretty pissed.

  “Commander Pipole.”

  He stopped in front of me. “So now you manage to get it right?”

  “I guess my mental block just got unblocked.”

  He stared at me with so much disdain that for a second I felt twelve again, standing in Principal Swinton’s office listening to him telling me how wrong it was to trash the school hall, half of the classrooms, and the principal’s office with toilet paper.

  According to me I just showed my extreme commitment to a classic prank. Unfortunately Principal Swinton didn’t agree and kept on repeating the phrase ‘you’re suspended’ while he tried to remove the toilet paper from his fish tank—along with the dead fish. How was I supposed to know the little fishy fuckers would eat the toilet paper? And in my opinion, if you are stupid enough to eat shit paper, you deserve to die.

  “Detective Stone, was that Karina Valenti I just saw walk out of the interrogation room?”

  Shit.

  “No. That was ah…that was Megan Jolie.” I think on the fly, combining two of the world’s sexiest women, Megan Fox and Angelina Jolie. And what exactly made them the hottest pieces of ass to ever walk among us lower class humans? The lips. It was those full, beautiful, heart-shaped lips made for their awe-inspiring suction capabilities.

  “I brought her in for a bible full of unpaid parking tickets.” I continued the lie. By the way the Commander went from a normal beige color to a ruby red, I’d say the lie was plastered all over my now very worried face.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Monroe smirking like an idiot as he witnessed the uncomfortable conversation between me and the Commander. I made a mental note to punch him in the balls the next time I see him down at Joey’s Pub.

  Commander Pipole gave a step closer, narrowing his eyes. “You’re suspended.”

  I swear to fucking God, the way those words rolled out of his mouth I’m pretty sure he just came in his pants.

  “Commander, that was not Karina Fat—”

  “Monroe,” the commander called, and Monroe instantly straightened.

  “Yes, Commander?”

  “Who was that woman that just walked out those doors?”

  “That was Karina Valenti, sir.”

  Oh my God. What a fucking dildo.

  “Seriously, Monroe?” I turned to him. “Can you breathe up there?”

  He looked confused. “Up where?”

  “Up his fucking ass.” I point at the Commander, and then there was this loud bouldering sound right next to my ear.

  “Get out!” the Commander yells. “Give me your fucking gun and badge, and get the fuck out of my department.”

  I’m appalled. Really. “Suspended? Just because I asked Karina Valenti to come in for five fucking minutes?”

  “Twenty-five,” Monroe chimed in.

  “Monroe, I swear to God I will tear your dick off and shove it up your ass if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

  The Commander smiled wickedly. “Threatening a fellow police officer. Well done, you just signed your own fucking suspension letter.”

  And then the asshole just turns around and leaves.

  “Am I the only one convinced that the Valentis are responsible for the shithole this place turned into?”

  The Commander turned back around. “Unfortunately you have no proof to back that up, Stone. Make sure you book in your gun, and leave your badge in my office. You have ten minutes to get your ass out of my precinct. You’re suspended for a month.”

  A month? A fucking month?

  “Are you serious ? You want to take Lucy away from me?”

  “Who the fuck is Lucy?”

  I tap against the gun at my side. “This sweet little thang right here.”

  “Well that sweet little thang is no longer yours. Lucy and badge on my desk in ten.”

  Goddammit.

  “Way to go dumbass,” Monroe sneered from the side.

  I really wanted to smash his face in , but assaulting a fellow officer would just be the final nail in my career coffin right now. Besides, I needed to act like a grownup, not letting insults get to me.

  “I knew your Greek ass wouldn’t last around here.”

  Ah fuck. Now how was I supposed to act like the grownup now?

  “It’s Albanian, you fucking tithead!” I launched myself at the dickhead and punched him in the face, hammering that last fucking nail into my now dead career. And since that fucking career was already bolted shut with a fuck load of nails, I punched the asshole again. Why? Because I fucking wanted to. It was like trashing the school with toilet paper. You don’t know why the fuck you did it, you just did it because it’s fun.

  It took three other guys about twelve point three seconds to take my gun, my badge, and haul my ass out of the station and onto the fucking pavement.

  Jesus Christ. Suspended for a month? How the fuck am I supposed to continue my investigation on the Valentis if I’m nothing more than a damn civilian unable to use all my detective perks to get the necessary information I needed?

  I kicked at the ground beneath me and pulled my hands through my hair feeling like I was about to burst a damn aneurysm in my brain. It’s when I looked to the left that I saw the hard-on triggering ass get into a black Mercedes. Karina Valenti.

  She doesn’t know I’ve just been suspended and tossed onto the curb like a loser. Karina Valenti doesn’t know that I don’t have any right to keep tabs on her, or to harass her anymore—not that I did in the first place. But so not the point.

  If I had any chance of proving that my suspicions about the Valentis were correct—and thus getting the Commander and his damn suspension off my ass—I was going to have to go about this in a completely different way.

  I took out my phone, and grinned like the damn joker as I slide my finger across the screen.

  Hell, I knew this was going to be fun.

  Chapter 4

  KARINA

  My heart still wasn’t beating normally. And my skin still felt like it was on fire, all because of one arrogant, overly confident, egotistical male with devil eyes and a smirk that could melt panties everywhere. For the last half hour I’ve had this constant prickle of warning in the back of my head. Detective Stone is a temptation I need to stay clear of.

  I leaned back in the seat of the car and inhaled, counting to four, and then exhaled. Maybe if I do a few breathing exercises my heartbeat will normalize.

  I try it a few times, and it actually felt like it was helping since I no longer felt the overwhelming urge to make a slut out of myself.

  It was about half an hour drive back home, so I grabbed my phone thinking that it might be a good idea to interact just a little with the one hundred and eighty two thousand, three hundred and twenty-two followers I have.

  One thousand, two hundred and nineteen notifications in less than forty minutes. How was that even possible? Did these people sit around waiting for public figures to update their status so that they can comment and like—and poke—to their little heart’s content?

  Were these people even aware that there were things like world hunger and global warming? Things that were way more important than what I had for lunch, or what Kim Kardashian wore to the fucking beach.

  I open the Facebook app and click on my notifications bar, marking all as read. If I replied to every comment made, I’d be here ‘til next Tuesday.

  Just as I’m about to close the app, I pause.

  I wonder…

  Scrolling to my list of followers I start typing in ‘Stone.’ I have no idea what his first name is, but if he managed to get my latest status update back at the station, surely he must be following me.

  And sure as shit, there he was—Lorik Stone. Lorik. Is that Greek? No, then it would be Lorikos, or Lorikaras, or something with an ‘os’ or an ‘as’ at the end. Maybe it’s Albanian?
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  If it wasn’t for me recognizing that sinfully gorgeous face, I never would have guessed it was him.

  I know I shouldn’t—I really shouldn’t—but I click on his profile anyway.

  As I scrolled down his timeline, I noticed that there really wasn’t much going on since his last status update was two months ago saying, ‘I’m drunk. That is all.’ That is so attractive.

  I roll my eyes, and go to the ‘about’ section. He had self-employed listed as his job, which made me snort since I knew that’s a crock of bull. But it did make sense that he wouldn’t go put Detective on something as public as Facebook—especially when he was apparently investigating my father.

  My stomach turned at the thought. Not that it was anything new. The police have been investigating my father for as long as I could remember, but they’ve never managed to get any concrete evidence against him.

  Lorenzo Valenti was as intelligent as he was cunning. Hell, I’m his daughter, and if it wasn’t for a conversation about the Cosa Nostra, which I just happened to hear between my parents ten years ago, I never would have suspected that my father was a Mafia Boss. Back then I didn’t even know what that meant, what it entailed. And when I heard my dad say the words ‘managing protection rackets,’ I knew it meant something bad. I was too young to understand back then, but I do now.

  I remember about five years ago the heat on my father and his activities was pretty intense. Until the Mancusos moved in on what my dad called our territory. Then the heat got worse as the Mancusos started wreaking havoc on the streets. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was they did, but by the way my dad and brothers always cursed whenever the subject of the Mancusos came up, I’d say it was pretty bad shit.

  Still scrolling down Lorik’s page I decided there really wasn’t much else to see—or to stalk. So I go back to my page contemplating whether I should remove Lorik Stone as a follower. He was probably just using it to keep tabs on me, watching me, waiting for me to slip up so that he could get what he wants—incriminating shit on my family. Plus now he knew that ninety percent of my status updates were bullshit anyway. What if he called me out on it?