Page 33 of Mafia Prince

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Lucio laughed victoriously. “That’s right, motherfuckers! Yeah!”

It was clear that Lucio loved the adrenaline, the chase. There was a smile pulling at the corners of Dante’s mouth as well, showing me that he loved it too.

This was him. Who he was. A Valenti.

No matter how much he had loved me in the past, how deeply he cared for me, he wouldn’t have been happy if I had taken him from his family. The danger of living this kind of life exhilarated him. He craved the adrenaline rush, lived for the power. And why wouldn’t he? He was born into a very wealthy, powerful family. It was all he knew. He was raised to be this dominant, powerful, and intimidating man who sat beside me now. It was because of this I decided to leave.

We drove in silence, Lucio still racing down the streets even though we had lost the vehicles that followed us. Dante and I didn’t speak a word, but I was achingly aware of him sitting so close to me. My body recognized him, feeling the familiar crackle of electricity between us. It never failed. From the first day I saw him, I felt it. It was too damn powerful to ignore.

“I hate being the new kid.” I pulled my hair up in a ponytail, then glanced down at the faded denim jeans and white sweater I was wearing. I looked like a poor girl whose mother died in a tragic car accident, and her father sat with his ass in prison because he couldn’t keep his hands off other people’s money.

Oh, that’s right. I am that girl.

Kate handed me my backpack. “I know it’s hard, but this is good, Layla. We needed a new start, away from New York and all the memories. I promise you, this will all work out. Just give it time.” She pulled me in for a hug.

A part of me felt sorry for Kate. She took it upon herself to take care of us—of me. Being five years older, she knew I only had her to rely on. I always hated that she was so much older than I was, but it turned out to be a blessing. If she was any younger, I would have been shipped off to some other family member who really didn’t give a shit about me…or Kate.

Even though it sucked being new in town, going to a new school, the least I could have done was try to fit in. To make it seem like it was easier for me than it really was…for Kate’s sake.

I gave her a peck on the cheek. “Okay, then. It’s time for me to go pimp myself and make new friends.” Kate laughed, and I smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I shoved one of the unpacked boxes out of the way and against the wall as I walked out the front door. We’d only moved in two days ago, and both Kate and I were lazy unpackers.

As I stepped outside, I glanced up and down the road. It wasn’t exactly one of the richest neighborhoods, but at least it wasn’t one of the worst.

I placed the earphones in my ears and pressed play on my phone. It was a way to make the other kids think I didn’t give a shit—that I was too preoccupied with listening to the latest top forty hits to even realize I knew no one.

I pulled my backpack over my shoulders, took a deep breath, and mentally told myself this day would be a piece of cake, and I’d have a ton of friends before the end of the week. Yes, it sucked being new. But at least no one knew the baggage which was now my past. No one knew about Richard Moore, the man whose genes I shared, sitting with his ass in jail. And if I had my way, no one would ever know. According to me, my dad was dead. He died the second he got cuffed and placed in the back of a squad car on the night of my fourteenth birthday.

Deep in thought, I walked along the sidewalk listening to my favorite U2 hit. I hoped I’d one day be lucky enough to meet someone I wouldn’t be able to live with, or without.

Just as I turned the corner, I was shoved hard from behind, the earphones yanked from my ears as someone grabbed my phone.

“Hey!” I braced myself against the building wall, the asshole running down the sidewalk.

Screeching tires raced down the street. A slick, black Audi made a sharp turn to the right, pulling up on the curb, hitting on the brakes. The timing was fucking perfect as the snatch and grabber ran right into the car just as the driver opened his door.

Poor asshole got slammed right in the face, falling backward, flat on his ass.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins, the shock causing my shallow breathing. But it was only when the driver got out of the car that I inhaled sharply.

Ink black hair touched his leather jacket collar, while broad shoulders cast a shadow over the guy who still lay on the ground.

“Jesus, Gio. Can you do anything other than snatch and grab?”

“Fuck you, Valenti.”

The driver looked up and straight at me. My heart stopped.

“Are you okay?”

I swallowed hard. “I think so.”

He pulled Gio, AKA the snatch and grabber, up by his collar. “Give the pretty girl back her phone.”

I walked closer, suddenly painfully aware I had chosen to wear my most worn-out jeans and my mother’s oldest, most favorite sweater. Now I kind of wished I had put a little more into my grooming efforts for the day.


Tags: Bella J. Erotic