LEONARDO'S POV
I pulled out my car keys from my back pocket as I stepped down the hotel's front entrance. New York looked depressing because of the layer of dark, damp clouds hovering over the place. I wasn't fond of monsoons because of the cold, deathly atmosphere they created. It reminded me of the day of Mamma's untimely death.
Shaking off the sore feeling up my chest, I approached my flaming red Ferrari that was parked near the sidewalk. As I was about to open the door, someone slammed into my side and I almost dropped my keys.
"Hey! Watch where you're going—" I stopped mid-sentence when I looked down at the person who bumped into me. It was a woman—A short one. She wore a black cap, a mask covering up her mouth, and sunglasses.
Who the hell wears sunglasses in the monsoon?
The attire she wore made her look like a street punk, yet it suited her perfectly, hugging her flawless, curvy little body. The short leather skirt gave a generous view of her long, slender legs, and I wondered how they would feel wrapped around my torso.
"Sorry about that!" She said in a distressed voice, waking me up from my lewd reverie. She glanced back, then at me, and then at my car. "I'm being stalked. Can I please hide in your car for a while?"
I internally kicked myself for ogling her. Jesus—I need to wash my dirty brain with holy water sometime.
"Yeah, sure." I opened the door for her and she slid in elegantly. I climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door.
"Thanks for letting me in," she said as her primly manicured fingers reached to peel off the mask, revealing those pouty, pink lips. The bottom lip was slightly fuller than the upper lip. God, they were the prettiest pink lips I've ever seen. I wanted to have a bite to test if it tasted as sweet as it looked.
Next, she pulled the two stems of the sunglasses, unveiling a set of dangerously seductive siren eyes. Yes—siren eyes. The irises were a pale shade of green, with a ring of gold surrounding the pupils. *Mio Dio—I've never seen eyes so bewitching in my life. Then she lifted off the cap, letting silky waves of brunette hair fall over her slender shoulders, and combed her fingers through her messy tresses.
My heart did a weird dance in my chest. The girl looked like she was around my age, but her eyes gave off the vibe of a vixen that would lure men to their doom.
And I might as well get lured.
The girl's tempting lips bloomed into a smile, a dimple appearing on either side of her cheeks that gave her a touch of innocence. But I could tell she was anything 𝑏𝑢𝑡 innocent.
"Hey, can I ask you for one more favor?" Her brows pinched together, and she batted her lovely long lashes as she looked up at me.
"Anything for a beautiful girl like you," I winked at her.
The musical little laugh that tumbled past the girl's lips made my dick twitch. "I need to get to the airport on time, so could you drop me off?" She asked sweetly.
"Don't think I'll do the favor for free." I drawled, giving her my panty-melting smirk. "I will need a little reward."
Her eyes went wide, and she blinked, making her appear like a startled bunny. "Hm, what do you want in exchange?" Her voice turned bold yet playful. Dangerously so. Like she was calling me in for a challenge.
"A deep, passionate kiss will do." I pushed. She could slap my face and back away or take the offer. The choice was hers to take.
Instead of getting angry, she laughed like she found me funny or something.
She leaned close, peering straight into my eyes, into my 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙. "I'll kiss you when we get there." She whispered in my ear. That sweet, low voice seeped through my skin and settled straight to my groin.
Fuck, up close, she smelled delicious. Like freshly bloomed roses—Red roses. Because red was the color of danger and this little vixen right here was, without a doubt, a dangerous being.
I drew closer to her, and she leaned back until her back pressed against the leather seat. Our lips barely touched, yet I felt spikes of shock waves jumping up my back from the slight contact. But I would not kiss her until I get her to the airport. I don't do half-assed shit.
The girl let out a deep, shuddering breath as my hand reached for the seat belt and I strapped her tight to the seat. A blush crept up her face, and I took pleasure in making her flustered.
And hell, until now, I've never got turned on for making a girl blush.
Until her.
"Thanks," she mumbled, fiddling with the strap of the seatbelt.
Cute.
I press-started the car with a blaze, gripping the steering wheel. Blue veins jutted out through my tanned skin. I stared at the long road ahead like an F1 racer would before the race began. Adrenaline pumped with my blood and transpired into my sports car as the engines roared and we sped off in the blink of an eye.
***
ROSALINA'S POV
I eyed the handsome stranger that was giving me a free ride to the airport. Well, not technically free. But I didn't mind kissing him, since he seemed to be a good kisser and because he had luscious lips. I guessed he was probably older than me—maybe a college jock.
The first thing I noticed about him was his coffee-brown eyes. They were warm and contrasted with the cool rainy season. If not for his oversized body, he would have perfectly fit into my pretty boy preferences.
Actually, I might just prefer this one better.
"So, where are you flying to?" He asked, casting a brief glance at me, smiling.
Did I mention he had dimples?
Yes, definitely a pretty boy.
"To Chicago," I said. "I have to see my Mamma."
"You from Chicago?" He asked, surprised.
"No. My Mamma has breast cancer and I have to go visit her and... take care of her." I said, and it was the truth. It was unclear if my Mamma was properly taken care of or if she was under a financial burden.
I brought my diamond earrings with me to sell them off just in case I had to pay the medical bills for her. I will not lose her to disease and I'll do anything in my power to save her.
"I'm sorry to hear that about your Mamma." He said, and he seemed like he was genuinely feeling bad for me.
"Nothing to say sorry about," I shrugged. "How old are you, by the way?" I asked, giving him my wide, curious eyes. I'm guessing somewhere between twenty-two to twenty-five.
"Eighteen."
My jaw dropped. "No way! For real?"
"Yep."
My eyes trace him one more time, taking every square inch of him that was in plain sight. "Dude, you don't look anywhere near eighteen!" Not to mention that deep, booming voice of his that gave me a rush of goosebumps when I first heard it.
"I'm a walking contradiction—I know." He roared out a laugh that made my tummy feel giddy. "How about you?"
"We're the same age," I said. "Nice car. You recently bought it?"
"Birthday gift." He said, shrugging a shoulder.
This guy must come from a filthy, rich family. Maybe a family of bodybuilders, judging by how big he was for an eighteen-year-old. Compared to him, I looked like a scrawny kid.
"What does your family do?" I asked, getting more curious to know about him. I might just familiarize myself with him while I'm still here.
"Business." was all he said.
"What kind of?"
"Many kinds. You know, trading and stuff?" He said simply. Maybe his family runs a shop? "What about yours?"
"Yeah, mine too..." I said. I couldn't say illegal business. "They run a bistro." It's true, technically. I had family members who run bakeries and bistros in the city.
"Uh-huh." He nodded in acknowledgment. "Why do you plan on leaving for Chicago all on your own?"
"Because my family doesn't like my mom." My voice came out edgy. Ugh.
"Can I ask why?"
Are we going to have a chat about our private lives right now?
"Well, because she left my dad..." I cringed inwardly because I shared this with a stranger, but he gave me a nod. Like he empathized with what I said. "They divorced?" He asked.
"No, she just left him..." My throat wobbled.
"You okay?" He asked, those deep-set brown eyes titled in my direction in concern.
"Yeah." I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. I wanted to change subjects but keep our conversation going. A sense of ease filled me in his presence, and I didn't know why.
He seemed like an open-minded and easygoing guy.
My phone buzzed, and I reached into my bag to pull it out.
Shit! It was from Saint.
I veered my head to the back and saw Saint's Lambo tailing behind. I secretly swiped left to cut the call.
"What's wrong?" He must have noticed my panic by now.
"Can we go a little faster? The stalker... is right behind us." I pleaded, clasping my fingers together.
He peeked over at the back in the rearview mirror. "The white Lambo?"
I nodded with pursed lips.
"Jeez, your stalker is a creepy rich dude, huh?" He chuckled and gave me a suspicious look. "You know the guy?"
Should I tell yes or should I tell no? "No, but he was following me." I lied, and I felt sorry for my cousin Saint for being called a creepy rich dude.
My pretty boy sighed. It was a cocky sigh. "Seems like we have to ditch him."
LEONARDO'S POV I revved my engine, feeling the power of my red Ferrari seething beneath me. The Lamborghini behind me was no match for my speed and skill. "Whoa!" The girl gasped as I sped up the Ferrari to 150 miles per hour. I smirked as I took a sharp turn, feeling G-force push me into my seat. The Lamborghini tired to keep up, I knew I had the upper hand. It was then I spotted a narrow street up ahead, barely wide enough for one car. A mischievous grin spread across my face as I gunned the engine, determined to overtake the Lamborghini no matter what took. I weaved through the traffic, my senses high on adrenaline. As we approached the narrow street, I heard the girl's breath hitch in her throat. "What are you doing?!" "Brace yourself, babe." I said as I gripped the wheel. It was too late to turn back, I shot through the narrow streets, barely missing the walls on either side. The Lamborghini tried to follow, but it crashed the brick wall and I emerged on the other side, winni
ROSALINA'S POV"What's wrong?" I frowned at him for stopping the car in the middle of the highway like this. I was getting late for my flight dammit! Where did all that hype and energy go?"What did you say your name was?" His face scrunched up like a raisin in the sun.Was he seriously pissed off by my name?No, he was actually pissed off by my surname. The name Russo used to have a notorious reputation in this city. However, that reputation was snatched by the Salvadori crime family a long time ago."Rosalina," I said, backing up to the door while I sneaked my hand around the door handle."Russo." He finished with gritted teeth.Wait, he didn't have a reason to be so offended by my surname unless he was a..."Salvadori." Hate coated my voice.The hate for snatching my Mamma away from me.The hate for killing Aunt Ariana.The hate for killing my beloved Papa.He gave a sarcastic smile at my quick guess. "You guessed it right, Russo."I pulled the door but it won't open."Who's the gu
ROSALINA'S POV Saint grabbed my elbow and dragged me inside the house where all of my family members were waiting. The stares aimed at me caused my pulse to quicken with anticipation, as though I were an animal on display at a zoo. Nonno scrunched up his nose upon seeing me and Nonna, who stood right beside him, shook her head in disappointment. "I'll talk to her." My Uncle Ricardo offered. Among my three uncles, he was the most caring and patient one, and he understood that my Nonno's temperament could harm me if no one intervened. Uncle Ricardo halted in his tracks as Nonno gave him a lethal, gray-eyed glare. "You got something to say, young lady?" Nonno asked gruffly, pinning those steely eyes on me and raising his cleft chin up a little. Did I really have something to say after being caught red-handed? Nope, not at all. So I kept quiet. "I asked you a fucking question!" Nonno's sudden outburst caused my shoulders to jump. My body shook so much that only an earthquake match
ROSALINA'S POV I spent the week investing most of my time inside my room, on my pink bed, binge-watching several TV shows on Netf*ix or else, I would have plucked out all of my hair and gone crazy out of boredom. The reason I was so upset was not just because of my house arrest. My Nonno found me a fiance who was a decade older than me. From what I heard, he was the senator's son, Italian, and needed my Nonno's connections for the upcoming elections since my Nonno was well-respected among the Italian community here in Brooklyn. My Nonno could easily help them out without an alliance, but of course, he wanted to punish me in another way instead of beating me up. I'd grown a thicker skin over the years and I got beaten up more than any other male cousin in the family. Not flexing, but it was a fact. Nonno believed in gender equality only when he had to punish his grandkids. He never showed me any mercy because I was a girl. But did that stop me from calling him out on his B.S.? Abso
ROSALINA'S POVThe next Sunday came, which meant all of my family members would gather around the table for family dinner. Well, technically we are just your average, everyday family - if your idea of normal was living in a mansion, wielding power and influence like it's nobody's business, and occasionally making offers that people can't refuse.My friends talked about the romanticized version of the mafia (From Mafia novels mostly). Most of them were about a rich and handsome Mafia man and a damsel in distress, or that cliché arranged marriage trope. I found it funny how contradictory it was to the real thing.Made Men were the least desirable partners. Most of them were self-centered assholes who didn't give two fucks about fidelity.Now, don't get me wrong. I wasn't talking about ALL Made Men, but most of them were jerks. Take my Nonno Matteo Russo, for instance. He was a good husband to Nonna, and I don't think he ever cheated on her, considering how obsessed he was with her. But
ROSALINA'S POV Nonno was taken to the hospital immediately by Saint and Uncle Roberto. Luckily, he survived the heart attack I gave him, otherwise, my Nonna would have berated me for the rest of my life for killing her husband with my temper. Nonno and I were like two vicious tigers trapped in a room, ready to tear each other apart.Maybe it was because we had similar personalities. Both of us had disastrous temperaments and were stubborn as a mule, never backing down from a challenge or argument. Instead of telling Nonno to stop getting on my nerves all the time, Nonna suggested I work on my anger issues.I was clueless about how to tame my inner Hulk. For ages, my raging temper was my signature quirk. It was not like I flaunted it, but disposing of it was as tricky as ditching a tattoo.Lily (The future doctor) recommended that I get my ass to therapy.Which, I did.***As I settled onto the couch in Dr. Emily's office, my eyes landed on the nameplate displaying her credentials: Dr
FLASHBACKROSALINA'S POV(Five years old)"I want to tell you somethin'" Papa stood at the kitchen doorway, hiding his hands in his pant pockets. Mama paid no attention to him, she kept scrubbing the dishes from the sink.Papa almost begged, "Alina, are you even listening to me?'""I'm listening," Her voice was uncaring. As if she already knew what he was about to say wouldn't have any effect on her.Papa swallowed a lump trapped in his throat. "I hooked up with a girl once. It was a one-time thing. I just needed to feel something because you were always shutting me out and I..."THUD!The porcelain coffee mug crashed into the plates after Mamma dropped it so abruptly that even I shrieked from the dinner table. I was playing with one of the Barbie dolls after my evening dance practice, still in my pink tutu. Mamma shot me a look that made me shrink in my chair."Go to your room," She ordered with a face stripped of any emotion.I grabbed my doll and ran outside the kitchen, but I was s
ROSALINA'S POV"What triggers your anger?" Dr. Emily asked me, growing more and more curious about me.To be honest, I didn't really know what actually triggered my anger. All I knew was that I'd always been a troubled child, a hellion."I hate to admit this, but I'm sort of like a spoiled child. I throw tantrums when things don't go my way or I'm told to do something I don't wanna do. But that's like every other teenager my age. I don't see the issue here." I said, shrugging a shoulder."Right, so when did it start getting problematic?" She asked."Shit hit the fan when my grandpa got a heart attack because of my outburst," I answered."How do you typically express your anger? What do you do or say when you feel angry?""I... yell, curse, and throw stuff." Well, wasn't that how normal people with emotions expressed anger?"Have you noticed any patterns or themes in your anger? Is there a particular emotion or need that your anger is masking?"I thought hard. I must say, I'd never pai