Claimed: A Dark Mafia Romance (Sinners of Boston) by Vanessa Waltz

Author:Vanessa Waltz [Waltz, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-26T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

VIOLET

Lord, I needed this.

Sandy worked her magic on my scalp, kneading my head as I bent over a sink. After rinsing me with toner, she bundled my hair in a black towel. Then she ushered me across the marble floor to the leather salon chair. She draped the cape over my body. Sandy didn’t talk much but I preferred that. I wasn’t in a chatty mood.

Was it right to kiss him—my sister’s lover?

To marry him and steal the life she could’ve had with this man?

Achille wasn’t hers anymore. He was mine in a way I never expected. I felt like I was navigating a labyrinth with no clear exit. Each turn led to the same question: Was I betraying Elise? I couldn’t shake the image of her face, the sister I lost twice—first to the city, and then forever. I pictured her beside me, her smile fading.

“Want a refill on that mimosa?” Sandy asked.

“No, thank you.” I’d already downed the glass she’d given me, and the warm buzz had melted some tension in my chest. “I’ve never been to a salon that serves cocktails.”

“It’s part of the experience,” she said, combing my hair. “We want our customers to feel as relaxed as possible.”

“It’s lovely,” I whispered as she trimmed my dead ends. “Almost makes me forget the craziness of wedding planning.”

“That’s exciting. Big plans?”

I hesitated. “Yeah.”

She snipped more locks. “Mine was a nightmare to plan. I wish I’d eloped.”

I smiled. “That doesn’t seem like a bad idea right now.”

“You don’t sound too thrilled.”

“It’s just not your typical love story.” I sighed, and she met my eyes in the mirror. “He’s complicated. Achille isn’t exactly the Prince Charming type.”

The scissors stopped mid-snip. “Achille Costa?”

“Yes.”

Her expression tightened. “I know his family. They’re…they have a reputation. My cousin worked at one of their clubs, Sanctum. Didn’t end well. Just be careful.”

I fiddled with the edge of the salon cape. “I know.”

“You gotta look out for yourself,” she uttered in a low voice. “Men like that run your life if you let them. They take everything and give nothing back.”

Achille gave me plenty. He hadn’t said no to a single demand. He seemed to sense what I needed, even when I didn’t. Like our kiss the other night. The memory of his mouth on mine burned me up. Ever since I’d run out of his bedroom, overwhelmed by my feelings, he’d been distant.

He hadn’t touched me. He’d barely spoken a word to me. Overnight, he’d built a wall between us. Was it because I didn’t offer him my body? Did he think less of me? Was I another obligation tied to a ring?

Maybe Sandy was right. Men like Achille lived in a world where feelings were a liability. His decisions were about control, not about building something tender.

But when I shut my eyes, his hands ghosted my skin. His kiss pressed into my mouth, intoxicating as bourbon laced with brown sugar. And I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was stupid to hope for more until he showed me that he felt the same.

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