His to Own (Mafia Kingpins Book 1)
Chapter 6

Even though I keep my tone light, I’m not kidding. I’m kidnapping Alessia and not letting her go. Not ever again, but she doesn’t need to know that quite yet. All sorts of plans are swirling around in my head and I have to take my time and do this carefully. I don’t want to frighten her, but the fact of the matter is she’s not marrying Rocco which I already told her—she’s marrying me.

And there’s not a damn thing anyone can do to change my mind.

Once I pull my car into the subterranean garage and the gate lowers behind us, I feel much better. My building is like a fortress and no one is getting in here. I can protect Alessia and keep her safe without worry. The building boasts 24-hour armed security, endless cameras and requires keys and codes to get practically anywhere. Including the elevator which will zoom us straight up to my penthouse. I grab her duffel bag and we walk over to the elevator and step inside.

After placing my key in its special slot and turning it, I hit the 129th floor then lean back, resting a hand on the railing, my attention moving over to Alessia. Her chest rises and falls fast and her amazing blue-green eyes are wide. She looks nervous, like a little rabbit who is on the verge of bolting.

“You’re safe now,” I tell her, trying to make her feel more secure. “I promise, no one will harm you here.”

She gives a small nod and wraps her arms around herself. Damn, she looks so small and dainty. So delicate. More fragile than the soft petals of a flower. Anyone who tries to lay a finger on her will have to deal with me. With my wrath. And I will not show them an ounce of mercy. In fact, I’ll enjoy breaking every single one of their fingers…right before I cut their whole damn hand off.

I’ve always had a protective streak toward my family, but Alessia is bringing out an even stronger, more ferocious side that I didn’t know existed. For now, she’ll be safe here with me. This building is like Fort Knox and no one is getting in who I don’t want inside. Then, once we move forward together and get married, my name will protect her. Because no one in their right mind fucks with a Rossi. If they’re stupid enough to do so, they will pay the consequences. And that’s a fucking guarantee.

Alessia doesn’t say a word the entire way up and I hope she’s not going to fight me about staying here and letting me protect her. And, of course, there is the little part about her becoming my wife. But, hell, if she was even considering marrying Rocco, then she should have no problem marrying me. I’m a much sweeter deal. I will treat her like a princess—give her anything she wants including expensive gifts like jewelry. I’ll keep her wrapped in furs and whisk her away on exotic locations anywhere in the world where she’d like to go. Basically, I’ll spoil her rotten. Oh, and I’ll give her endless orgasms, make her lose count as I pleasure her every day and every night.

Her air of innocence is one of the things that draws me to her. It’s wrapped around her like the sweetest perfume, teasing me and making me want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else before. My gaze drifts down her body, over each perfect curve, and I want to rip her clothes off and mark her. Make her mine.

Patience, Miceli. Hell, I feel like a stallion on the verge of rutting. The temptation to spin her around, lift her up and slam deep inside her from behind has me sweating and getting hard. Clenching my hands, I force myself to relax and my attention drops to her knee where her leggings are torn and bloody.

All thoughts of fucking her shut down and white-hot anger infuses me. Who would dare attack us on the street in front of everyone? I’m livid about the entire situation and plan on calling a meeting with the Five Families to address the issue. For all their sakes, what just happened better have been a random fucking incident or there’s going to be hell to pay. I will release fire and brimstone like they’ve never seen before.

The elevator stops and the door glides open, letting us out in my private foyer. I motion for Alessia to exit first and try not to look down at her ass. Too late. It’s so fucking round, pert and impossible to ignore, and I ball my hands into tight fists, forcing my gaze back up. Juicier than a peach.

The dim lighting automatically brightens as the sensors read our presence. Even though Alessia has always been surrounded by wealth and comfort her entire life, her eyes grow round as saucers. I drop her bag and enjoy the way she looks around with curious eyes and obvious admiration.

“Wow,” she murmurs under her breath.

My place is pretty amazing, but I guess I take it for granted. It’s the tallest residential building in the world at 1550 feet, a perfect combination of power and delicacy, boasting top-notch amenities and security. I have the best views available—from river-to-river—and there’s nothing I can’t see, depending on which window I’m looking out of. From the Financial District to Central Park to the nighttime sky above, I have a kick-ass view of the entire city.

I watch Alessia walk further inside, taking everything in, and she heads straight to the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows.

“This is incredible,” she says in a low voice, admiring the nighttime view of the entire city. Moving up beside her, I want to tell her to get used to it because she’s going to be living here from now on, but I don’t dare. It’s too early for that conversation.

“I’d think you’d be used to places like this.” Although, deep down, I know her family isn’t nearly as wealthy as mine. It’s probably another reason why Aldo wants to marry his daughters off to me and Bianche. Our wealth far surpasses his own and he wants to make sure they’re taken care of. Though, I wouldn’t trust Rocco Bianche any further than I could throw him.

“Are you kidding me?” she asks, glancing up at me. The light above hits her eyes just right, making them glitter like aquamarines floating on the ocean surface. I suck in a breath, unable to look away.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” I whisper.

Alessia blushes and quickly turns her attention back out the window. “Thank you.” She tugs her full lower lip into her mouth and chews on it.

“Do I make you nervous?” I ask in a low voice, stepping closer. The last thing I want is for her not to be comfortable or pull away or distrust me.

She shifts from one foot to the other then turns to face me. Damn, she’s so little, barely coming up to my shoulder. “A little,” she admits.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable?” I ask earnestly, searching her unsure gaze.

“I don’t know. I mean, you’re a stranger and I’m still not sure what I’m doing up here in your fancy apartment.”

“You’re here because I want you here. And because I’m protecting you,” I quickly add. “Now come with me. I need to clean your knee up.”

“It’s really not that bad⁠—”

“Let’s go.” I reach for her hand and pull her along with me through the living room and down a wide-open hallway. One of the things I love about this place is the open floor plan and cathedral ceilings. I hate feeling closed-up and walled-in; I much prefer feeling the freedom of fewer walls and large windows.

She doesn’t bother trying to argue with me and it’s for the best because she won’t win. Not when it comes to making sure she’s well-cared for and comfortable. I’m not sure what has come over me, but it’s become my goal to make sure this small woman is happy, content and safe in every way possible.

Tugging her into a large, first-floor bathroom, I nod toward the marble counter. “Hop up there.” She briefly hesitates then does what I say as I bend over and fish out a First Aid kit from beneath the sink. Popping the latches, I take a quick inventory of the items and pull out what I need.

Turning toward Alessia, scissors in hand, I have a feeling she isn’t going to like this next part, but it’s necessary. “Don’t move,” I say and reach for the torn material of her leggings. She sucks in a breath, but holds very still as I cut up the side seam on one side, effectively turning them into biker shorts. Half of them, anyway.

I peel the shredded, blood-stained legging off, toss it in the trash and kneel down between her legs, focusing on her bloody, scraped up knee. It isn’t awful, but it needs to be cleaned thoroughly. Grabbing some alcohol and cotton balls, I douse them.

“This is going to sting,” I warn her, and she gives a brave nod. Then I carefully start wiping. She lets out a small hiss and I feel awful, but I don’t stop. Once I’m done, I blow lightly on the wound. “You’re okay, sweet girl. So brave.”

Without thinking, I run my hand over her calf and press a kiss to the side of her knee. Alessia goes completely still and I look up at her through hooded eyes. Our gazes lock. Setting her small foot on top of my muscled thigh, I blow on her knee again, soothing the sting away. “Better?” I ask huskily. Something flares in her ocean-colored eyes and she nods.

“Thank you,” she murmurs softly, voice a little unsteady.

I give her calf a light squeeze then reach for a Band Aid. Keeping her knee propped up on my leg, I tear it open and very carefully cover her wound, pressing the adhesive edges into place against her skin. Skin so soft that I can’t help but steal a caress. Then I reach for the scissors again, moving her other foot up onto my thigh, and start cutting up the seam of her leggings.

“We should even them out,” I tell her with a slight smirk. I can’t say I’ve ever cut a woman’s clothes off before, but I’m enjoying it thoroughly. From the heated look rising in her blue-green eyes to the way I’m holding her leg, her foot sliding up, and now so damn close to my groin. Shit. My dick is starting to get involved and pushes against my zipper, desperate for her.

Time to put an end to this, I reluctantly think, as I peel the other legging off and toss it. Jaw clenched, dick throbbing, I force myself back up onto my feet and turn before she can see the evidence of my desire. Although, I have a feeling it may be too late. A gorgeous shade of pink brightens her cheeks and she swallows hard.

I offer my hand and help her slide off the counter. “C’mon. It’s getting late and you’ve had a traumatic evening. Let’s get you settled.” In my bed, I carefully and purposely leave unspoken. But, that’s exactly where she’d headed.

Her small hand feels so right in mine and it briefly catches me off guard. This wisp of a woman is making me feel all sorts of things that I’ve never experienced before. It’s odd, yet strangely soothing, and I replace myself welcoming it.

Guiding her up the back staircase, I lead her down to the master suite. I hope she replaces it just as impressive as the rest of the house. Though it’s not nearly as spectacular as she is, it’s pretty grand with a huge king-sized bed positioned to face the windows, sleek black furniture and decor all in black and white with hints of gray. I opted not to have any pops of color because I’m not what I consider a colorful person. I prefer strong, solid, classic colors. It occurs to me that I prefer most everything in my life like that—from my decor to my suits to the aftershave I wear. I don’t care for frills or fads. Give me opulent elegance with staying power.

“Is this the, ah, guestroom?” she asks hesitantly, looking around.

“No. This is my room.” I’m not going to lie or play games with her and the sooner she accepts her fate, that she belongs to me, the better off we’ll be.

“Um…” Her gaze lands on the bed draped in a black comforter. “You must have a spare room for me?”

Of course, I do. But that’s not the issue.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight, Alessia,” I tell her, voice firm. “Rest assured, my building is safe, but I won’t be comfortable if you’re not near me.”

“That’s nice,” she finally says, “but not necessary.”

And here it comes…my princess is about to fight me. “It’s necessary for me and my own piece of mind.”

“Miceli, I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No—”

I move fast and grasp her upper arms, my long fingers easily curling all the way around her small biceps. “Princess, you are going to get your ass in that bed and go to sleep. And that’s non-negotiable.” My voice softens. “I promise I won’t touch you…if you don’t want me to,” I can’t help but add.

Her brow draws together and I can feel her nerves grow.

“I promise,” I whisper again, this time more fervently, and she seems to relax slightly. For tonight, anyway, I mentally add. “Now, let me go get your bag. Meanwhile, go ahead and use the bathroom. There are clean towels and a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. If you need anything else, let me know. Okay?”

She nods. “Okay.”

I can hear the hesitation in her voice and I understand her fears. But I’m going to put those fears to bed and make sure no one hurts her. Ever. Because the more I think about it, the more I believe that hitman wasn’t coming after me.

I think Alessia was his intended target.