Taking My Mafia Princess: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Chloe Fischer

  Copyright

  Taking my Mafia Princess

  Part I

  Part II

  Part III

  Breaking My Chains

  Taking my

  Mafia Princess

  By: Chloe Fischer

  Copyright © 2018 Chloe Fischer

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher. Thank you for buying an authorized copy of this book and complying with copyright laws.

  This is a work of fiction. Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Taking my

  Mafia Princess

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  Part I

  Chapter One

  It was undoubtedly going to be one of those days where Ariano regretted the suit jacket he had on, but he had had little choice in his wardrobe, considering who he was meeting that morning.

  The sun was blazing high and at ten o’clock, it was already eighty-six degrees, which meant the temperature inside the club was bound to reach the mid-nineties.

  Those old fuckers all think they’re still in the old country, he thought, eyeing his reflection in the full-length mirror as he adjusted the half-buttoned white shirt that covered his muscular chest. That’s why they insist on melting our balls off every time we meet.

  He shrugged his back muscles to try to settle the fabric more loosely around his broad shoulders. Even the specially fitted thousand dollar suits he wore felt restrictive in this heat.

  “You look very sexy,” Charlotte volunteered from her spot on the bed. “But I think you’re missing something.”

  “Oh?” Ari replied absently, lifting his strong chin to gaze at her with piercing blue-grey eyes. “What would that be?”

  The brunette smiled alluringly, draping her long legs over the top sheet and exposing her blood red toenails to him, wiggling them as if gesturing him closer.

  “Shoes,” she teased and he grunted.

  “Maybe I planned go to my business meeting in flip flops,” he suggested, stepping nearer as he ran his hands through his tussled hair. She stretched cat-like against the crisp sheets.

  Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he studied her svelte frame, heat starting a slow simmer through his body.

  At the moment, he would have preferred to indulge the desire of his growing hard-on and slip back into bed with the exotic dancer.

  “I’m sure that your boss will appreciate it,” she laughed, licking her lips and cocking her head to the side, long, black lashes shielding her dark eyes just barely. “But maybe you should try going shirtless instead,” she teased as she ran her eyes appreciatively over his imposing figure.

  She knows just what she’s doing to me too, that bitch, he thought, sighing as he ran a smooth palm along her creamy thigh.

  She spread her legs apart, inviting him to get back into bed with her. As she moved, the sheet fell and her full chest came into view, hard pink nipples begging for his lips.

  Charlotte reached for his hand, pulling it away from her upper thigh to trace her lips with his fingertips.

  “Just how important is this meeting today, Ari?” she purred, the light in her eyes only igniting him further. “’Ten minutes late’ important, or…?”

  She trailed off suggestively, popping his index finger into her mouth, her tongue running up his manicured nail as her lips suctioned against it.

  “Sorry, cara,” Ariano grunted, rising abruptly and adjusting his package beneath his Gucci pants. “You’re the devil, but I’ve got to go.”

  “Fine,” she sighed, realizing that she wasn’t going to get what she wanted. “It’s that important, huh?”

  Ariano shrugged.

  “I’m afraid it is,” he said. “Sorry, babe.”

  She nodded, sitting up suddenly, her black hair spilling along her caramel shoulders.

  “Maybe next time we could do this at your place?” she offered, a note of hope trickling into her voice. “I make an excellent omelet, you know. Actually, I’m a fucking amazing cook.”

  Her statement caused him to stiffen slightly but he maintained the disarming grin on his face.

  “Maybe,” he replied evenly, although his tone screamed “not a chance in hell.”

  “And maybe dinner?” she added.

  “Sure, bella.”

  Ariano adjusted his waistband before leaning over to slide on his socks and shoes, his mind already in the car where he should have been ten minutes ago.

  “Don’t forget to call me,” she whined, sensing that he wasn’t listening any longer.

  She had lost him when she suggested they move the party to his place.

  He didn’t have time to placate her that morning. He only had half an hour to get to the club and he wanted to be there before Alex-the-fuckin’-asshole got there.

  “Ciao,” he told her, not sparing her a glance as he turned to leave her alone in the hotel room.

  From the Marriot Marquis underground, he would travel to Giovanni’s downtown where the meeting had been arranged.

  This is going to be the day, he told himself, slipping into the Audi and pulling from his spot with a roar of confidence. The old fucker is finally going to promote me.

  The sleek, black vehicle slid out of the underground and roared to life on Brickell Avenue, the air conditioning blasting in his tanned face.

  As he stopped for a red light near the Guatemalan Consulate, Ari caught a glimpse of his reflection in the rear-view mirror.

  He grinned at himself, a flash of blinding white teeth against bronze skin.

  His dark hair was still wet from the shower, falling into a thick pull of waves over his perfectly angular face.

  Even from the odd angle of the glass, his high cheekbones and firm, chiseled jaw were evident, his mouth a cynical slash that somehow still remained sexy.

  Life is good, he told himself, squaring his broad shoulders against the leather interior and slipping his sunglasses on over his steely eyes.

  He was living the dream, after all.

  For five years, ever since moving to Miami from New Jersey, his rise through the ranks of the family had exceeded his wildest expectations.

  Not bad for a little paesano from Newark, he thought smugly, weaving the Audi through the late morning traffic.

  For his part, no one had expected much of Ariano Francisco, son of a welder immigrant and hotel chambermaid.

  His life in the east could have best been described as middle-class and going nowhere.

  “You’re gonna be a doctor or a lawyer,” Tina Francisco told him confidently when he was a child. “You’re gonna go places and help people, not like your useless father who lives only to work.”

  Tina seemed to forget that even in their shitty area of New Jersey, a one income family was not going to sustain anyone, least of all three people. She only worked part-time while his father did double shifts and weekends at Allied Steel.

  But his mother had never realized Ari’s potential. She hadn’t appreciated the special quality which Ariano possessed, her old-world upbringing far too short-sighted to realize her devastatingly beautiful son had the ability to charm the pants off anyone.

  Ariano had learned this himself when he was in his early teens and the “pants” had actually been Catholic school girls’ skirts.

  At first, it had been merely a challenge, wooing th
e prettiest girls in his religion class, knowing that their values were challenged by the heat in their panties when Ariano Francisco turned his steely eyes upon them.

  His friends envied the way the girls would throw caution into the wind when Ariano was involved, each vying for his attention harder than the last.

  “You must have a golden dick,” Nick Bianchi sighed. “They don’t even think twice about giving it up for you.”

  And it was true.

  Every day when Ariano showed up at school, there would be notes slipped in his locker, food left for him in his classrooms, panties stuffed into his knapsack.

  “I can’t believe that these bitches could be so horny! You’ve gotta show me how to get into Sophia Cappelli’s pants!” his male classmates lamented, their voices thick with jealousy.

  But Ariano knew it had less to do with the size of his huge cock and more to do with the way he charmed the girls, then discarded them. Each one thought they would be the one to capture him for more than a moment. Each one tried to capture his attention in any way they could, long enough to get their claws into him. But it never worked.

  And it was not merely his intense attractiveness and then the following aloofness which had the girls lined up for their turn in his bed, it was the way he made them feel when they looked into his eyes.

  The drive to keep his attention had taken on a life of its own, almost without Ariano trying.

  But in his defense, Ariano had never made any promises. He never pretended to love them, and he never told them they would have any more of him than the fucking he was offering them. To him, each of them was special in a way, but he knew he wouldn’t remember their names in the months to follow.

  His life may have been a series of endless lovers and empty orgasms, living in the poorest area of Newark, if not for the fateful day he met Lucia Cambrini.

  Ariano had been drawn to the dark-haired waitress from the moment he laid eyes upon her. There was something about her smoldering beauty which caught his eye clear across the room from the first moment he saw her, her sloe eyes seeming to call out to him in an exotic cloud of innocent sensuality.

  Ariano had approached her with his usual bravado, his blue-grey eyes fixated on her dark brown ones as if they were the only two people in the world, but she had steadfastly refused his “offer” of a date – which was of course, just an offer to have sex.

  Ari had never been denied, never been turned down – especially when he was the one doing the asking. The feeling intrigued him. It inflamed him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her. So he tried again.

  She was adamant that she would not date him, although she never explained why, only saying that her life was “complicated”.

  “Are you a lesbian?” he asked, praying the answer was no.

  Lucia offered him a grin.

  “Is that the only way a woman could refuse you?” she asked, her voice a soft, breathless tone which made his cock hard.

  “It would make your rejection easier to understand,” he confessed and she had laughed.

  “I am not a lesbian,” she told him and he was confused anew.

  He couldn’t reconcile what it was that kept her adamant in her refusal, especially when he was sure he read interest in her intense, chocolate irises.

  It had only served to drive him wilder, his cock incensed by the chase.

  Suddenly, Ariano found himself eating at the restaurant where Lucia worked every other day, vying for her attention in any way possible.

  Never had he been dismissed and if he had given it any thought at all, he would have realized it was truly the only thing which kept him continuing this chase.

  While Lucia was a beautiful girl, she was no lovelier than others he had bedded in his past, others who had willingly given themselves to him without any effort at all.

  But his dick wanted what his dick wanted and nothing could tell him otherwise.

  “What is it about me that you hate?” he asked her after she shrugged off yet another date invitation. It was about three months after Ariano had set his sights on her.

  It had gotten so that Ari had actually begun to believe he was in love with the waitress, he thought of her constantly, and used her image in his mind when he jacked off. All others were forgotten as he continued his pursuit of her.

  He began questioning his own actions, wondering if he was being stalkerish, but Lucia had never told him to stop coming around and he could not shake the feeling that she was just playing hard to get and that if he kept trying, she would be his.

  After all, he knew women. He could read their desires like a book and Lucia’s eyes screamed for him, even if her lips continued to say no.

  “I don’t hate you, caro,” she laughed, a slight blush tingeing her cheeks. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I just don’t date.”

  “But you’re a grown fucking woman!” Ari protested heatedly.

  “You don’t know me, caro. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

  She provided no further explanation and he was eventually forced to accept that his love was unrequited.

  That didn’t mean that he stopped visiting her at the restaurant, waiting to catch her with the lover who he was sure she had.

  What other explanation could there be?

  One day, he was unexpectedly joined by the proprietor of the restaurant, a man that Ari thought looked like mafia.

  “I hear you come here almost every day,” Luca said to him. “Why?”

  “Lucia Cambrini,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m in love with her.”

  The older man’s eyes had turned dark and menacing, and before he knew it, Ariano was being pulled into the alleyway, and beaten to a bloody pulp.

  It was Lucia who found him at closing, laying amongst the garbage.

  “I see you met my father,” she told him dryly. “I tried to warn you.”

  And suddenly Ariano understood.

  Luca Cambrini was the don of the Caprese, one of the biggest crime families in the United States, his tentacles reaching from one coast to another, answering only to Caprese himself.

  In other words, he was not a man with whom to be trifled and his daughter was not going to be caught dead with a shit-poor boy from the slums of Newark.

  In his lust-filled haze, Ariano had missed the connection between the object of his affections and the mafia family.

  “You have to stay away now, Ariano,” Lucia told him. “Whatever you said to him almost got you killed. If he sees you around, he’ll kill you,” she paused. “He’s killed for less.”

  Ariano believed her but he was not willing to give up so easily.

  “Not if you marry me,” he told her earnestly. “He won’t kill his son-in-law.”

  Lucia had been shocked by the proposal but Ariano could see that she was actually considering his words.

  “Let me think about it,” she told him. “I – I’ve never had anyone so determined to have me like this before.”

  “That’s because no one has ever loved you as much as I love you,” he told her flatly.

  And he had meant it…at the time.

  That night, Ariano brought her home to his studio apartment in Newark and she had finally succumbed to the passion they had denied themselves for months.

  He took her multiple times that night; over the stove, against the fridge, in the stand-up shower and on the floor. They couldn’t seem to assuage the lust that had built up between them. It seemed that they explored every area of the apartment but the questionable futon which Ariano was certain would not withhold the thrusts of his desire.

  In the morning, he stared into her eyes and smiled softly.

  “You really do love me, don’t you?” she sighed, her brown eyes glistening with tears. “It’s not just because I’m Luca Cambrini’s daughter. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Ariano nodded his head, his gaze locking on hers.

  “I loved you before I knew who you were,” he replied softly.

&nb
sp; *****

  Ah how young and naive I was back then, he thought to himself, reliving the memory as he drove to his meeting.

  The sound of a car horn shattered Ariano’s reverie and he raised a groomed hand in apology, only to lower all his fingers but the middle one as he stared in the back mirror and saw who was trying to get his attention.

  Fucking Alex. I should have known.

  In the Mercedes, Alex raised both his fingers in response, a smug smirk on his face.

  On the up side, he’s behind me, Ariano realized and dropped his eyes to the road, hitting the gas. I’m going to see Giovanni first. Eat shit, asshole.

  As if Alex made the same conclusion simultaneously, the Mercedes abruptly pulled out of it’s lane and zipped up on the left, attempting to cut Ariano off, but he was expecting the move.

  “Fuck you, stronzo,” he cursed, putting the Audi in fourth gear and racing the Mercedes. He hoped Alex could read his lips.

  Neck on neck, they raced toward the city center, the sparkling waters of the channel flying past on his left as Ariano shifted into fifth and bypassed his nemesis.

  Fuck you again, Alex. I hope you flip your car into the channel. You’re that shitty of a driver anyway.

  Glancing one final time into his rear-view, he noted that he had lost the man and he grinned with wicked satisfaction, half-hoping that his prayer was heard.

  It would be one less thing to worry about if Alex died suddenly, not that Ariano was overly concerned about the pouty-faced fucker.

  I’m getting promoted today and you’re going to be stuck doing shitty runs for the rest of your pathetic life, Ariano thought cockily as he steered the Audi off Brickell and into an alleyway perpendicular to the busy road.

  Reaching the back door, he heard the sound of another car arriving but Ariano didn’t bother to turn, assuming it was Alex.

  It wasn’t until he opened the fire door that a voice rang out, turning his blood to fire.

  “Where are you going in such a hurry, caro?” she purred, and Ariano froze in spot.