
SIX MONTHS IN THE MOBSTERS BED
Maria kings · Completed · 106.6k Words
Introduction
Until she's caught.
Rafaelle Tommaso is a dangerous man who she made the mistake of stealing from, and she's going to pay for her crimes in his bed.
Six months in the mafia boss's bed... How bad could it be? Well, she's about to find out.
Chapter 1
"I want him."
I raised my head from the margarita I had been sipping all night and stared at the blonde sitting across the table.
"What?" I asked.
"Him," she nudged her chin and I followed her gaze to where a large man was seated at the bar.
From here, I could only see his broad back encased in a tailored charcoal suit jacket.
"Go for it girl," I winked at her.
Gini rolled her eyes at me, "I don't mean it like that. Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean that he makes a good target."
"Oh," I said before glancing at the broad man again, "same thing. Go for it girl."
She snorted, "Trust me, that guy won't spare me a single glance."
I raised a brow, running my gaze from her straight blonde hair to the cleavage on display, "Don't be absurd. He'll trip over his own feet to speak to you."
All men did. It was why Gini made the perfect partner. Her perfect, doll-like features made men flock to her and from there, it was quite easy for me to slip out wallets and jewellery while they were distracted.
"No, he won't," she informed me, "three other women have tried and he didn't even look at them. All blondes too."
"Wow. It must be raining blondes," I sipped my drink, "And oh my God, you're such a creep, how long have you been staring at him?"
"I'm doing my job."
"I don't believe you. You want to bang the faceless hottie at the bar."
Her mouth quirked up and she shrugged, "Fine. Fine. But I'm shit out of luck because he's most definitely not straight."
"You don't know that. He may be married."
"Honey, these days, being married doesn't mean anything to men," she shrugged, "it's as irrelevant to them as sand on the sidewalk. I'm so glad I'm not one of those women who has always dreamed of falling in love and getting married."
I just nodded because I was one of those women. Which was probably stupid due to my less-than-legal operation. Who the hell was going to marry a thief? And how long could I live a double life with someone I claimed to love?
With a sigh, I picked up my glass for another sip and immediately saw it was empty.
"I need a drink too," Gini said, "Can you go get us one, pretty please? I'll die if I went up there and got ignored by him."
I laughed at her. She was far too vain for her good. After years of being adored by men, Ginerva had gotten used to being the centre of attraction everywhere she went.
"Fine," I said, standing to my unimpressive five feet four height, "But this is the last one you're getting. We need to leave. Today is a bust."
We had been sitting at the hotel reception for over three hours and hadn't caught sight of any prospect. There was no use in wasting more time here.
I made my way to the bar and signalled to the waiter, "Can I get two more glasses of margarita?"
While I waited, I shifted my gaze to the man at my side, or more specifically, his large hands spread on the smooth surface of the bar. There were symbols tattooed across his knuckles.
I was straining my neck to read it when a deep voice made me freeze, "Paradise."
My head whirled up and I met intense dark eyes, "hunh?"
"That's what the tattoo says; Paradise."
It was the first time I was seeing the man's face and it suddenly felt like all the oxygen had left the room. His dark hair fell over a perfectly sculpted face with thick dark lashes and plump pink lips.
He was dressed completely in black and I could see tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt.
The man must have been the most stunning man I had ever seen in my life.
"Your drinks, ma'am," the bartender's voice snapped me out of my gawking and heat flooded my cheeks.
As I reached for the drink, I stumbled and with a yelp, I ended up losing my balance and falling over the stranger's muscled thighs.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I righted myself, blushing.
He slanted me a look and then one corner of his mouth curled up the tiniest bit, "I'll never protest a beautiful woman falling into my lap."
My jaw dropped open and before I could say another word, he raised his glass in a salute and turned away.
I grabbed the drinks and hurried back to where Gini was staring at me wide-eyed, "You sneaky bitch! Did you get his number?"
"No," I passed her one of the glasses, "But I got something better."
"What?" She raised a sceptical brow.
I held out a black plastic and waved it at her and her eyes went even wider, "Is that_"
"Yeah," I grabbed my purse, "Wish me luck."
"Keep your comms open, I'll inform you if things start going south," her voice had shifted from the playful tone and now she was all business.
I tapped my earpiece to activate it and then crossed the foyer to the bank of the elevator at the other side of the room with the stranger's key card tucked into my purse.
A few moments later, heart thudding, I walked into the man's suite, taking in the extreme elegance of the place.
"Damn, this guy must be swimming in cash," I whistled.
Gini's snort came through the earpiece, "That suit alone probably cost as much as our both house rents."
The world was so unfair. Jumping into action, I rushed to his closet where I found several expensive watches and rings. I tossed as many as could fit into my purse.
"Iris, you have to get out of there?"
"Hold on, this could clear all my debt and then some."
"Not if you're in jail!" She hissed.
"Jail is better than having my fingers and toes chopped off," I told her, "I'll be quick."
"There's no time to be quick. He just got on the elevator."
Well, I wasn't leaving without achieving what I came here for. I would forever live in regret if I didn't take this chance to finally get out of Tudor's thumb.
"One minute," I gritted as I grabbed hastily the rings arranged into neat rows in another drawer.
"You stubborn fool! You don't have one minute. He's on his way back to the room. Get out of there now!"
Holy shit.
I turned towards the door but at that exact moment, the door beeped and I saw the handle turn.
"Too late," I whispered.
"What do you mean too late? Fucking hell, Iris. I told you to get out of there," she barked into the phone, "Is there a window?"
"I'm on the twenty-sixth floor. I doubt a window will help me."
"Damn it! I'm on my way."
My eyes ran around the room nervously, searching for any means of escape while my hands went clammy with terror. In all my time thinking, I had never been caught or even close to being caught.
Mind racing with ideas, my gaze finally caught on the large four-poster bed.
And an idea flashed in my mind.
I bit my lip, unsure. But as the door began to open, I knew I was out of options.
I dove for the bed.
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