My shadow.
My protector.
* * *
Matteo
Sweet holy fuck.
I thought I’d heard the best of this beautiful goddess’s voice last night, but it seems she hadn’t even scratched the surface of her incredible talent.
Just thinking about her made me hard as granite even before I entered the trashy dive bar, and I stopped breathing the moment I sat down and those limpid blue eyes searched for mine in the dark.
I was only meant to follow her scent.
To observe in the shadows and report anything I found without getting involved.
To make sure she wouldn’t cause us any trouble until my brother and his men arrived to take her off my hands and return her to New York for the appropriate handling.
But one look at the girl with the curves that defied geometry and the voice that would doom saints to sin, and I knew she was a million times more trouble.
To me.
That was five days ago.
Five days of avoiding my baby brother’s calls and texts.
Five days of letting a few other high-ranking lieutenants’ calls go to voicemail since I knew my brother was using every means available to try to reach me.
Sure, I like the idea of making Giovanni sweat some more over his fuck-up—and as fuck-ups went, this was a hefty one—but mostly I’ve been ducking his calls because I didn’t want to divulge that I’d found the girl he’s been chasing across the country.
Why?
Because I’d taken one look at Aria Brooks and known she was a priceless treasure. That wholly unfamiliar tug in my gut had told me I was dealing with something unique. Different. Possibly dangerous, but hell, I was used to danger.
Not this kind though.
Usually it was a gun pointed in my face by some insolent upstart who didn’t know any better or a wizened desperate enemy attempting to go out in a blaze of glory. These days very few dared make that sort of move.
My name and reputation had earned me the appropriate fear and respect.
So this was new and unique enough to grab my attention.
To make me ignore my brother and thefamigghia.
To ignore the Sicilian mafia heritage and code of honor that run through my blood.
I need more time.
Time to work out how I’m going to break the news that Aria Brooks is not going anywhere. Especially not back to New York to be silenced the way a few unfortunate souls have been in the past by the Frenelli family.
Because I’m keeping her. Making her MINE.
One look was all it took.
And from the man who’d grown jaded with the profusion of pussy that came with my power and position?
Yeah, it shocked the hell out of me too.