Bad Princess: A Mafia Romance

by N. E. Henderson

  During the second round Sasha got a fuck-ton of kicks in but not many punches to the face. Si, on the other hand, landed an elbow to Nikolayev’s jaw and I swear my pride soared to heights I didn’t know were possible. It’s not the only thing on me that swelled.

  Watching women fight, whether in a ring or on the street, has never done anything more than give me a moment of amusement, but watching Sienna . . . fucking hell.

  Midway through the third round, Sasha lands a winning head kick to Si’s left side, causing her to stumble and go down to the mat. Even before it was called, I knew it was a TKO—a technical knockout.

  My neck starts to sweat and my breathing turns labored as my jeans grow tight in the crotch. As Si exits the ring, that’s my que to leave. Dad’s introduction to his future daughter-in-law will have to wait.

  Chapter 42

  SIENNA

  Adrenaline is coursing through my body at such a rapid pace that I still don’t feel any of the pain from the fight. Tomorrow will be another story. When I wake up, I know I’ll feel every punch and kick my body absorbed, but . . . so will Sasha Nikolayev, and that puts a satisfied smile on my face.

  She beat me fair and square; there is no question about that. I’m not even mad that I lost; disappointed, sure, but I’m not angry, nor do I see the point in it. I just wanted to face her and give it my all. I did that and she came out on top.

  “You fought good,” Dad tells me from behind. “I’m proud of you, princess.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I glance at him through the bathroom mirror I’m standing in front of in the private suite they loaned me for the duration of the event tonight. It’s an open style vanity outside of the closed off shower and toilet. Turning on the water, I wait until it warms and then I splash my face to rid it of the sweat and grime. I’ll grab a quick shower after Dad leaves. I need to hurry so that I can get out of here and get to the city to make Matteo’s fight in two and a half hours.

  He and his father may have already ducked out so that Matteo can prepare. Hopefully, I’ll get to meet his dad later. I don’t think I have a chance at winning his mom over in this life, but I’m not giving up on Matteo’s dad just yet.

  I’m curious as to what Matteo thought of the match. It sucks that I lost, but even I knew it was a long shot. I’d hoped my extreme dislike for the bitch would give me the momentum to knock her out, but in the end, I’m the one that momentarily had her lights shut off—even if only for a split second. It was the second she needed for the fight to be called in her favor.

  Even with the loss, it doesn’t diminish the pride I feel in the center of my chest. I still accomplished something I couldn’t have if we’d gotten into a fist fight outside of the ring or on a mat. This was the only way I could wail on her without causing problems between our families.

  “Do you want me to stick around until you’re dressed? You can ride with me into the city,” Dad offers.

  “No. I have my car, so I’m going to drive and will likely stay in the city tonight with Matteo.” There will be an after party for sure; probably several. The heavyweight title is on the line tonight, and there is no doubt in my mind that Matteo will be retaining his belt.

  “De Salvo,” Dad voices, his tone sounding irked, which makes me peek up at him through the mirror after I dry off my face with a hand towel. “Do you love him, Si? I’m not referring to like or infatuated or that goddamn crush you carried for more years than I care to know about. Is this thing with you and him real?”

  We’ve been fucking like two horny rabbits intent on having a litter ever since he relieved me of my virginity, so yes, it’s real, but I can’t tell my father that. I know Dad is traditional in that sense, and he’d want me married before delivering his grandkids, but I don’t want to put the brakes on Matteo and me—nor am I going to.

  “Yes, Dad,” I start when there’s a beep, indicating that the door to the room has unlocked. Dad and I both glance over, and in steps Matteo. A smile tugs at my lips seeing him and I don’t try to stop it from forming. I’d hoped he’d sneak up here before leaving, but I didn’t expect it. He shouldn’t have either. He needs to get to Manhattan. It’s going to be a packed venue, so with traffic, he should not chance being late.

  Matteo looks at my Dad. “I need to chat with Si.”

  “Can I not have a minute alone with my daughter that doesn’t involve me having to see your face, De Salvo?”

  “Can you call that minute over or do it later? I need to talk to her alone. Please,” he adds. There is a pinched look on Matteo’s face that suddenly has me worried. There is nothing relaxed about his body language.

  What’s up with him?

  “Why are you acting . . .” Dad trails off, then abruptly stands from where he was seated at the foot of the bed. “Goddammit,” he curses as he storms past Matteo toward the door. “I should have fucking shot you and been done with it.”

  “Which time?” Matteo asks, the first hint of amusement peeking out from behind his tone.

  My eyes grow big when Dad turns back after opening the door, seeing the gun he keeps tucked in his suit jacket now in his hand and aimed in Matteo’s direction. A shot goes off before I can muster a sound. Matteo flinches the same time I do. Without another word, Dad stalks out the door, letting it slam behind him, and then we’re left in a moment of silence.

  Finally, my eyes trail to the top of the wall where it meets the ceiling, seeing where the bullet penetrated drywall. Thank God it’s a wall that faces water and not another room or building that could have been close by.

  “He’s touchy tonight.”

  “What the hell was that about?” I find myself asking, confused as ever. Removing the magazine from in front of his pants, I take in the sight of Matteo’s erection. “You’re hard?”

  “Painfully so, and if I don’t fuck you right now my dick may actually explode.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Leaning my butt against the sink counter, I cross my arms. “Don’t you have somewhere pressing to be?”

  “The only pressing place I need to be is inside you, and that’s exactly where I’m coming—pun intended. Now, lose those shorts and bend that beautiful body of yours over, baby.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask, planting my hands on my hips.

  “I need to fuck you,” he declares.

  “I just got my ass beat and you want sex?” Is he for real right now? “Matteo, I’m nasty and I need a shower so I can get ready for your fight. You know, the one you should be en route to right now?”

  Marching toward me like he’s on a mission, he says, “Then we can kill two birds with one stone. I can do you in the shower, baby.”

  Bypassing me, he opens the door to my right and in the next breath, the shower faucet is turned on and then he reappears in front of me, all six feet, three inches of sexiness in his blue jeans and polo shirt.

  Wrapping his hand around my neck, he pulls my head toward him, claiming my lips like a man that’s starving and doesn’t know when or where his next meal is going to come from. Dropping his hand, he goes for my sports bra, pulling it up between us and forcing our mouths apart. I start to do the same to his shirt, but he beats me to it, pulling it over his head and tossing the white material to the side.

  Matteo goes for his belt and jeans next, so I push my shorts and panties down my legs. I had flip flops on when Dad and I came back to my room, but I discarded them as soon as we were inside, knowing I was going to shower.

  While Matteo finishes undressing, I step to the shower and get in, wetting myself all over; the steaming water only amplifying the state Matteo’s gotten me in with his hungry stare and sinister mouth.

  Stepping in behind me, he clamps his hands around my hips and pulls my body against his. My eyes shut, a breath falling from my lips. He bends, kissing my shoulder, then the skin between before he reaches my neck, I relax against him, only to be turned around quicker than the blink of an eye.

  “I’m sorry, baby, but this is going to be quick and ha
rd.” He grips my thighs behind my legs and lifts me up, my limbs going around his waist and neck.

  “I can take whatever you give me, Matteo.”

  “I know.” My back meets the tiled shower wall. “I think you’re the only one that can, Sienna.”

  He drops me enough to maneuver his cock at my entrance, then pushes inside, his eyes on mine the whole time. A gasp escapes my lips at the size that impales me. He’s long and thick. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the first couple of seconds as his length fills me, and I don’t want to. Those first few seconds are pure bliss, and almost gives my orgasms a run for their money on the pleasure aspect. “God, there’s nothing like this,” I admit.

  “Like what?” He pulls out, going slow instead of fast like he originally said. Either way, I’m not complaining.

  “You. Inside me. It feels . . . Jesus, it feels good.”

  “I love you, Sienna.” His declaration hits me hard, momentarily stunning me. I hadn’t expected those words. Sure, he basically promised me forever weeks ago, but I’ve only ever heard him say those words to Brooklyn or when he was on the phone with his mom.

  Leaning in, I tilt my head and fuse my lips to his, kissing him like he’s giving me the greatest gift in the world—and he has. I don’t even know how to describe the way those words make me feel. He’s everything I ever wanted, but never believed I’d get to call mine.

  Matteo’s pace increases and his promise of fast and hard comes forth, him hammering in and out of me with such force that I’m not going to last.

  He grunts, and I know he’s about to shower my insides with every ounce of him, but that’s okay, because my orgasm blooms and my eyes flutter, losing control. My head tips back and a moan rips from my throat as I ride the wave.

  When I’m satisfied and spent, I relax my forehead against his and run my hand from his neck up to his cheek. Opening my eyes, I find him watching me. We remain in silence, the only sound the water pelting our bodies.

  “I love you too, Matteo,” I say, telling him words I’ve felt longer than I can remember. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”

  Releasing my legs, he slips out of me as my feet touch the shower floor. Looking up, I smile at the way his body towers over me.

  “You don’t have to do it tonight, but maybe tomorrow . . .”

  He pauses, and the look on his face has my back straightening.

  “Maybe tomorrow what?” I prompt.

  “Will you take a pregnancy test?” He stuns me in a way that I don’t speak right away. I wasn’t expecting him to ask that. “We fuck like we want babies, Si, so if you don’t, and you want me to wear a condom, just say so and I will.”

  “Fuck that,” I blurt out.

  “Then you’re going to get pregnant. You may even be pregnant. I didn’t want to ask before the fight. I didn’t want to screw that up or make you paranoid, but now, I want to know. I need to know.”

  “Do you want another kid?” I ask, wondering if he brought up condoms because maybe he doesn’t. For all I know, Brooklyn might be the only child he plans to father, but then wouldn’t he have worn a condom from the get-go?

  “I want you. I want us. And I don’t want to prevent anything from coming along on the ride with us. Preventing something from naturally occurring, or stopping it or prolonging it feels wrong.”

  “I feel the same way,” I assure him. Maybe I’m being reckless by not getting married first, but it’s not like marrying someone is going to ensure they stay mine for a lifetime, so who cares if we don’t do this thing between us the traditional way?

  “So, you’ll take a test then?”

  “If it’s important to you, then yes, I’ll do it, but I’ll be starting my period by the middle or end of next week.” I’m not one of the girls that has her cycle down to the exact day, but I usually have an idea of when I’m about to start my cycle. And because it always comes on slow, I’ll be two days into my cycle before I even have to use a tampon.

  “Thanks.” He turns off the faucet and grabs us two towels after stepping out of the shower.

  “You need to get out of here before you risk being late,” I say, wrapping the towel around me to soak up the water.

  “Hurry yourself up and you can ride with Dad and me.”

  “You go on, babe. It’s going to take me twenty to thirty minutes. Besides, I’m not leaving my car here. I won’t be far behind.” Stepping to me, he kisses me once again and then he pulls away too soon for my liking, my body temperature cooling without him pressed against me.

  By the time I soap up, rinse, and then dry off, Matteo is dressed and out the door. I plan to do my makeup before slipping into a pair of tight jeans, a dressy, red sleeveless top, my leather jacket, and black boots, but I need a minute with my thoughts after that spontaneous conversation, so I sit on the bed with the towel wrapped around me.

  Am I ready to be a mother?

  I’m really not sure, but I’m not scared of the idea of motherhood. I like Matteo’s daughter; I have from the first time I met her. She’s sassy but sweet. She’s cute, and I know I want to help her grow into a strong woman.

  I think my mother would have done that for me too. She had her own ideas of how she thought I should grow up or the things I should have been interested in, but something tells me that she would have eventually come around to my individual wants too.

  I think motherhood could be fun as much as it is rewarding. Guess we’ll find out, since we both agree not to prevent it from happening, and Matteo is right, I could already be expecting.

  Maybe I’ll make a quick stop at the pharmacy before I head into the city. I’ve got to hurry, though, if I’m going to make that happen.

  Opting for minimal makeup, I was able to finish quicker than I thought, plus I was rushing myself when I usually take my time. Who knows how traffic will be? It’s a title match; there are several on the line tonight. I need to get going so I’m not late.

  If I hadn’t insisted on driving myself tonight, I could have gotten ready in Matteo’s dressing room at the venue, but between Dad and Matteo, I haven’t had any time to myself. Anytime I’ve gone anywhere and was going to drive myself, someone suddenly needs a ride—from me.

  Like I didn’t know what they were really doing.

  Dad and Dom still don’t know who that guy was, and yeah, I get it. I’m still worried too, but maybe he didn’t expect me to fight back. Maybe it was just some sicko looking to get lucky and once he figured out I wasn’t going to be easy pickings, he hightailed it out of there and I’ll never see him again. Of course, I wish we knew his identity so that nothing like that happens to another woman.

  Dad keeps questioning me about what I remember, but it was the same answer every time. He was a couple of inches taller than me with a wide build, like he knows what a weight room is. Other than that, he was covered head to toe in black clothing. I couldn’t even tell you his skin or eye color.

  With my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, my gym bag full of smelly clothes and my key ring wrapped around my index finger, I push through the glass door, exiting the hotel. I parked my car on the street down from the entrance so that it would be quicker to make an escape than going to the parking garage. I knew I’d be racing against time tonight, and the last thing I want is to miss my boyfriend’s fight.

  The boyfriend term when referring to Matteo still feels strange, whether rolling off my tongue or saying it in my head. The feeling isn’t bad or anything like that; it’s blissful, euphoric even, and I’d never admit this out loud, but sometimes I get giddy on the inside thinking about it.

  I hit the unlock button on my key fob before pulling the passenger side door open and tossing my gym bag on the floorboard, but when I slam the door closed, I hear my name from somewhere close.

  Looking over the roof, I eye the street across from me but only see a few people walking in the direction away from me. The hotel entrance is on the opposite side of the casino, so it’s far less busy on this end than the ot
her. The parking garage entrance is even closer to the other side than it is here, but where I’m parked is closer to the freeway.

  I don’t see anyone.

  “Si!” he yells again, and that’s when I recognize Vin’s voice. My head turns, seeing him a few vehicles down, closer to the wooden steps that lead down to the beach area.

  Shoving my keys into the pocket of my jeans, I nod and raise my other hand to wave as I step toward him, passing the rear of my car.

  “Hey,” I greet. “You catch the fight?”

  I haven’t spoken to him or seen him since the night at the club. He texted a few times asking to meet up for lunch, but I’ve been busy and felt after everything that happened with his brother-in-law that it would have been awkward, so I didn’t respond, figuring he’d eventually take the hint.

  It’s not like we were close; though outside of my brothers, he might have been the only real friend I had, even if he was more of the fair-weather type. We never really hung out outside of the college gym we used to frequent. It wasn’t until he texted me asking about working for my Dad that we reconnected.

  But as soon as his brother-in-law was spotted with someone no one associates with, that was it for me. All ties had to be severed. I’m guessing he hasn’t picked up on that. Maybe he wasn’t involved with whatever Levi had going on with Rico the Rat, but it’s like the saying goes—you’re guilty by association.

  He’s standing perched against a black sedan. It’s a Lincoln, I know that much. Cars aren’t really an interest to me other than my own, but Dad always made it a point that my brothers and me could recognize most makes should the need arise that we would ever need to recall that information.

  “Nah,” he says. “You win?” He asks in a nonchalant way, like his question is filler.

  I shake my head, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk closer to the car parked behind his, noticing for the first time that his vehicle is parked in the opposite direction than it should be for this side of the street. A cop or parking enforcement officer would issue a ticket for that.