Mine: a Dark Mafia Romance

by Paula Cox

  Liana’s eyes turned as big as dinner plates. Her face flushed with heat like he’d started an inferno in her belly. She stared at him a moment longer, mouth too dry to speak. And then he uncrossed his arm and took a step toward her.

  Liana flung herself out of bed on the other side, collapsing onto the floor in her haste to get away from him. Red-faced with shame, she picked herself up off the ground and crossed her arms over her chest, not meeting Cliff’s eyes.

  “Happy?” she spat.

  His only response was an amused snort.

  “What do you want, Cliff?”

  Creaking steps across the floor jerked her gaze up at the man approaching her. His eyes twinkled with amusement; his lips curled to form what Liana supposed was his version of a smile. Just that bit of emotion was enough to make her feel lightheaded. And he just kept getting closer.

  She stepped back before he could reach her, her leg bumping into the wooden bedside table. She hissed in pain and Cliff stopped.

  “Just proving a point,” Cliff said. “Think about how much effort you just wasted being so stubborn. And I got you to do what I wanted in the end.”

  Liana decided not to point out that he’d only gotten what he wanted because she was worried she’d jump his bones if he got any closer. Well, it was either punch him or jump his bones. More likely than not, punching him would only lead to jumping his bones.

  “Can I get back to bed now?” Liana asked bitterly. She wasn’t even sleepy anymore; she just wanted some time to cool down. Away from him.

  Cliff shook his head. “I want to talk business. Meet me downstairs in five minutes.” He turned on a dime and headed toward the door. When he got to it, he paused before taking his leave. “You can leave your pajamas on if you want,” he purred. “I like them.”

  After he left, Liana all but melted into a puddle on the floor.

  Chapter 7

  It was a small miracle Cliff had made it out of Liana’s bedroom without touching her. She infuriated him in a way nobody else ever had, but she also brought out a fiery lust in him. The longer he spent with her, the more lust replaced his irritation. He’d been almost grateful she put up so much of a fight about getting out of bed. He liked seeing the fire in her eyes. He was, however, glad she hadn’t let him physically pull her out of bed. He’d made a mistake in that. He should have never made a threat he couldn’t uphold. If he Cliff had actually gotten his hands on her in that bed, they would still be up there now. He could see she wanted it too. But it was a horrible decision for both of them.

  Liana wasn’t part of this life. And she never could be. Cliff needed to keep his mind clear while he found Michael’s killer, and giving in to his lust would only further complicate things. He had to suppress whatever foolish emotions she was dragging up in him.

  She stomped down the stairs six minutes later. He chose to let it go, even though he was frustrated to see she had changed out of the delicious pair of pajama shorts she’d been sporting earlier. He got a zing of electricity in his cock just thinking about it.

  “What do you mean you want to talk business?” Liana asked, stopping at the foot of the stairs.

  Cliff was lounging on one of the living room sofas, staring out the window at the traffic passing by. He turned to her lazily, having collected himself since coming downstairs. “Sit,” he said.

  For once, Liana did as she was told. Sort of. She walked over to the couch across from him and leaned against the arm. Good enough.

  Cliff sat up straight, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. Liana watched. Cliff pretended he didn’t notice. “You want to be a singer. I want to own a nightclub.”

  “I don’t think that automatically means we should go into business together,” Liana said skeptically. “Especially since being involved in the mob isn’t exactly the direction I pictured my career going.”

  “I understand that. I also don’t want my business to have mob connections, besides the person running it, of course.” He leaned forward and grasped the tumbler of scotch he’d left on the coffee table. His mother would have scolded him for not offering her a drink. He didn’t care.

  “What do you mean?” Liana asked.

  “I’ve been wanting to invest in a cocktail lounge for some time now. I have enough fingers in enough pies through my less straightforward business connections. I want something that will come up squeaky clean under a microscope.”

  Liana furrowed her brow. “Why would you want that? Seems kind of pointless.”

  Cliff shook his head. “Not pointless. All you need to know is that if we worked together on this, you would never have to worry about coming under fire for anything illegal.”

  Liana slowly slipped from the edge of the couch down onto the seat. “I still don’t get why you’d want to work with me, though. You hate me.”

  Cliff took another sip, the fiery liquid burning his throat. He loved the burn. “I don’t need to like you as a person to recognize your potential. You’re a good singer, but anybody can do that.”

  “Hey!”

  “Let me finish.”

  Liana went quiet, glaring at him impetuously.

  “Anybody with decent vocal chords can sing. But a good act is so much more than singing—it’s commitment. It’s integrity. It’s passion. I think you have all of those.”

  Liana looked a bit taken aback. She blinked twice before answering, her words measured and slow. “Thank you.” She blinked again. “I don’t really know what else to say.”

  “Say you’ll consider it. I can at least get the ball rolling and find some potential club sites to take a look at.”

  Liana sat forward a little. “I actually have a friend who could help with that. My friend Janelle is a freelance PR consultant. She will be a great club manager if you need one.”

  The smile that glanced across Cliff’s lips was not, for once, from contempt or dry amusement. He was pleased. When was the last time he’d been pleased? “Good.” He downed the rest of his glass and placed it on the table, rising to his feet. “Get in touch with your friend. I’d like to get a move on with this as quickly as possible.”

  Liana bounced to her feet after him. “Wait! Shouldn’t we wait until somebody isn’t trying to kill me anymore?”

  Cliff shrugged. “As you said, it could be years before that gets solved. As for my night club, there’s no time like the present.”

  ***

  The first club Liana and Cliff went to visit was in downtown Manhattan. The rent was astronomical, but after telling Janelle how much money she reckoned Cliff had, Janelle had insisted on starting with the best of the best. Anyway, Cliff didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t even ask about the price. He just walked in and strolled around while Janelle badgered Liana with questions about “her new, hot piece.”

  “You can’t call him that,” Liana hissed. “He could be your boss one day.”

  Janelle tossed a thick clump of blonde hair over her shoulder, licking her thin lips. “Girl, I hope so. I would let him be the boss of me anytime.”

  Liana snorted. “He would love that, I’m sure.”

  Cliff asked a question about the sound quality, and Janelle rushed forward to answer him right away. Apparently, she’d put a good deal of research into this particular property based on the club that had occupied the space formerly. It had been a highly successful jazz club called Hermana that only closed because its owner lost a ton on the stock market back in ‘08. It had been sitting, unused, since then. And Janelle figured it would be easy to turn it back into one of the most popular entertainment venues in the city—if only someone could afford the price.

  “Liana.”

  Liana had been staring at the dusty stage, picturing herself standing on it in a sparkly, red dress. The dress she was wearing at her gig on Friday. She immediately jumped at her name, turning to where Cliff had called to her from across the room.

  “What?”

  “What are your thoughts?”

  He was actually asking her wh
at she thought? Had hell frozen over? She sputtered, trying to think of something coherent and intelligent to say. She hadn’t expected to get any say in the matter whatsoever.

  “I—I guess it’s pretty nice.” Great. Real intelligent. “I think we should look at some other places still. It’s never a good idea to settle on the first property, right?” Or at least that was what all the real estate shows she watched had led her to believe.

  Cliff gave her a sharp nod and then turned to resume his conversation with Janelle. Liana exhaled a gust of air. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding it in.

  Since Janelle didn’t have a portfolio of other properties to look at yet, she left after they’d finished looking at the old Hermana. She and Cliff had chatted about requirements and logistics. Surprisingly, Cliff even asked Liana a few more questions. Liana wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to—that really, all she wanted to do was sing—but she actually enjoyed having him ask her opinion. Very few people ever did.

  On the drive back to his house, Liana took a moment to study Cliff. His square jaw, plump lips, and harsh cheekbones were a work of art. It was a pity such a beautiful face was wasted on such an ugly character.

  Then again, he’d earned some points by being nice to her at Hermana. Well, sort of nice. His version of nice anyway. It was more than she’d expected from him. And having someone want to have her star at their club was more than she’d expected from anyone. Begrudgingly, Liana had to concede he’d won her respect. For this round, at least.

  “What are you looking at?” Cliff asked, his eyes still focused on the road.

  Liana peered harder, making a show out of it. “I’m trying to see where they plug you in at night.”

  His lip twitched. “They don’t. I run on solar energy.”

  “Is that why you’re so tanned?” she asked.

  His smile was a bit more noticeable this time. “You’re in a good mood.”

  Liana slumped back in her seat, annoyed that he’d broken their sparring match to talk about her mood. “Compared to how I was doing earlier today when I had you breathing down my neck about every little control freak tendency you’ve ever had,” she said. “Yeah. I’m in a good mood.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “I’m a performer. It’s what we do.”

  “Well, you’re not performing right now.” He put on his blinker and took a sharp left turn, flinging Liana into the door. She gritted her teeth but refused to comment on his driving. No doubt he was doing it to annoy her.

  “Word of advice, darling,” Cliff said. “Don’t be so on edge all the time. People will only ever use that against you.”

  “That’s rich, coming from you,” she retorted.

  He shook his head. “I’m not defensive like you are. I’ve worked my ass off over the years to earn the respect and admiration I have from my peers. I get frustrated when someone throws my hard work in my face. That’s all.”

  “I’m not just going to respect you because you think I should,” Liana replied. “You have to earn that from a person.”

  “And you think I didn’t earn it by saving your life?”

  She sighed. “Maybe in your mind you’ve done more than enough, but I suspect you don’t think about things like the rest of us do.”

  “Of course not.” Cliff’s voice was even, steady. “If I did, I’d be dead.”

  Chapter 8

  Liana took her dinner with her to bed. Cliff wanted to tell her that she absolutely could not do such an uncultured thing, but bit his tongue. He watched her ascend the stairs with the weirdest feeling churning in his gut. Remorse? No. He hadn’t felt that in years. And besides, he didn’t owe her anything in the first place. He had done everything he could to protect her so far, and she had been a nightmare to work with from the beginning.

  But it was something similar to remorse. He didn’t feel guilt because of what he’d done. Maybe it was because of how he’d done it. Perhaps he should have been gentler with her. But gentle wasn’t Cliff’s way. Cliff took what he wanted and didn’t apologize to anybody. He didn’t take orders from anyone except his father, and he certainly didn’t fly by the whims of some silly girl who didn’t know how to keep herself alive.

  That night, Cliff pushed that thought far from his mind. The next morning, however, would only bring more chaos and destruction.

  ***

  Liana jolted in bed for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. This time it was to the sound of Cliff bursting into her room. Though he still looked almost as inexpressive as ever, there was something urgent in the way his eyes assessed her. She pulled her sheets up to her chin and watched him, heart racing.

  It was still dark outside. She couldn’t tell what time in the morning it was, but it must have been early. The rain pattered against her window, filling the silent space between her and Cliff with a forced sense of calm.

  “You can’t keep bursting in here,” Liana protested.

  She expected him to make a snarky remark about how it was his house and he could do what he wanted, or something to that effect, but instead he stalked over to the bed and flung back the covers.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Liana shrieked at the sudden cold burst of air and scrambled forward to pull back her blanket. “No, I’m not okay!” she cried. “Some psycho just woke me up at God knows what time and tore my blanket away.”

  Cliff clenched his jaw, but it wasn’t in anger. With her blankets back up to her chin, trying not to think about how he’d just seen her in the same pair of pajama shorts again, Liana studied him. He seemed stressed. Had she seen him stressed since the night his friend died? Undoubtedly he had been, but he’d always masked it. Not now.

  “The killer dropped off another bottle of champagne.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. “This one was clearly meant as a message. About you.”

  Liana’s blood turned to ice in her veins. She pulled the covers up higher, but that didn’t stem the shiver running under her skin. “What do you mean?”

  Cliff turned to look at her. “There was a note attached. It said: The show must go on. See you on Friday.

  Liana gasped. “My show. He knows about my show?” Her breaths came in sharp gasps. Who was this person? Why was he doing this? If he was trying to hurt Cliff, why the hell was he coming after her? Trying to scare her.

  “Liana,” Cliff said gently.

  She didn’t reply. Her head was spinning.

  “Liana.” His tone was sterner. His hand darted out and grabbed her chin, fingers cold as ice. “Liana. Look at me.”

  She did, even as the panic in her throat threatened to bring up her dinner. His eyes were like a steel cage. Somehow, it was a good thing. She imagined herself inside her own special cage, face pressed against the cool bars. Nothing could touch her. Nothing.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, releasing her face from his grasp. He looked as though he were about to say something. Maybe even something comforting. But then he rose abruptly and walked to the window, testing the lock.

  “The place is alarmed, and I brought over a couple of my guys to keep watch around the property. I just wanted to make sure he hadn’t gotten to you.”

  And then he was gone.

  ***

  Over the course of the week, Cliff tried to keep his distance from Liana. He could still taste the fear that had risen in his throat when he found the champagne on his doorstep. He still remembered the way his body cried for him to run upstairs as fast as he could to make sure nothing had happened to her. To make sure she was safe.

  And she had been. Sleeping like an angel, Liana hadn’t even realized she was in danger. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relieved. And then, after the initial wave of relief, he couldn’t stop thinking about her bare legs, long and lean against the mattress. Her look of surprise. And he’d had to leave.

  The things that had made him
leave her room that night were the things that kept him away from her for the rest of the week. If they talked business, it was business. Otherwise, he left her to her own devices. After the first couple of days, she started seeking him out. She pretended that wasn’t what she was doing—like she had another reason to be in the library at the same time as him—but he saw right through it. She was lonely, he reminded himself. That was the only reason. She would have spent time with a decomposing sea cow if it meant not being cooped up alone in his townhouse all day.

  And he should have preferred such company as hers. But he didn’t. So he stayed away.

  Luckily, there was plenty of work for Cliff to sink into. Just because somebody had killed his best friend, did not mean his world had ceased to spin. He took the champagne and its attached message to Ellis, who determined neither the bottle nor its contents were poisoned. This bottle hadn’t been meant to kill like the first two. Cliff wanted to know why.