All Chapters of A Pet for the Mafia Dons: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

As the large car swept up the drive heading to the front porch, Liam O’Grady sat forward and stared in a reaction approaching disbelief. Finn St Just was watching, narrow-eyed as well.A figure was in the middle of the lawn, dancing in the rain in abandon, with grace and fulsome enthusiasm, her arms thrown up, face turned the rain.Bianca Cruz.Her white T-shirt was plastered to her body, revealing her curves, the shorts she wore clinging to her thighs. And with her lovely oval face turned up to the rain, her heavy brown hair clinging like a sheet to her curvaceous body, she looked like an ethereal spirit, a water nymph, swept up in the magic of the moment, relishing the rain…St Just smiled slowly, his firm mouth turning up at the corners. He had never seen such a sight in his whole life, he mused, as he watched, unable to take his eyes off the figure, for the girl seemed utterly oblivious to the car which had come to a halt on the porch. True, it was raining and she seemed to be lo

BiancaAs we entered, I automatically clung to St Just in horror.The outside of the building was ordinary enough, built on the lines of a huge castle. The wooden doors had been guarded by bouncers in black outfits, their muscles bulging. They nodded deferentially enough at my Master and we entered. As the doors thudded shut behind us with a soft sound, I looked around and gasped.It was dim; it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness. But then I saw the corridor stretching out ahead of me, a long one, with murals on either side. Men, women, and animals, all contorted in various explicit poses, made me want to turn and run out.St Just grabbed my waist and said softly,“Pet.”*I stiffened and followed him, my hand in his large one, my head bowed. I simply did not want to, nay, could not, look a the disgusting things that were depicted on the walls in such grotesque detail.St Just laughed, a soft, sinister chuckle that only served to make me feel frightened.He

BiancaI stood in the uber-luxurious washroom, which was large enough to contain our entire old home, I thought cynically. Flamboyantly decorated, with exotic plants and the mirrors, so many of them, the washbasins with gold plated handles, I looked about me in wonder.The hand towels on the shelves were of the purest Indian cotton, so very fluffy and soft to the touch. A huge shelf crowded with designer cosmetics, branded ones, stood in one corner, and I shook my head.My lips turned up derisively.What a dreadful waste!Staring at myself contemplatively, I noticed that the bruise under my eye from Pagie Hardy’s assault had faded. Or been skillfully hidden by clever make-up, care of the two who had come to do my face and hair, before I left.Disgust shot through me, hands and I dry heaved.What a dreadful, decadent place. Where every depraved whim would be satisfied.***Sighing, I touched up my make-up after visiting the toilet and washing my hand, using the aromatic handwash which

Bianca I was picking up my purse with the mobile which O’Grady had given me when he stormed into the little enclosure. I whirled around, fists clenched, ready to do battle.Just let him say something about his little fiancée, I thought, shooting daggers at him with my eyes and I stopped.Liam O’Grady ran a hand through his head. His black hair was a mess but a rakish mess and with his five o’clock stubble, the white shirt open to reveal a few wiry chest hairs, his muscular figure clad in those expensive trousers and jacket, he looked like a dream man. Some thing fashion magazines would die to capture on their lenses for immortality.He noted my stance and grinned, a wide appreciative smile that made my heart beat faster. The man had no business to look so darn handsome, so electrifying…*He drawled, his eyes twinkling as he took in my posture,“Whoa there, tiger! Relax!” I swallowed and forced myself to relax.He took a step to me and went on, his voice softer,“That bi*ch didn’t h

I opened my eyes, mumbling.And then I sat up with a start,I had been asleep with my head comfortably cushioned on Liam O’Grady’s trouser clad lap!!! I heard the low chuckle from O’Grady’s chest as he gripped me to his chest and said,“Lass, you’re half asleep. I’m going to carry you, so come along, gr`a mo chroi.”(At the time, I did not know the words meant Love of my heart…) I looked at him, puzzled by the words. I’m no Gaelic expert but something about the way he said the words, rolling them in his mouth, made me feel…loved. I stared at him, his unreadable profile chiseled against the fairy lights on the lawn, in the semi-darkness of the car and said hesitantly,‘What does that mean?’ He shrugged dismissively, looking like he had said something inadvertently and was now wishing he hadn’t.“Nothing,” he said gruffly and whisked me into his arms by the simple method of reaching out and grabbing my ankles before pulling me into his arms.Startled, I wound my arms around his nec