Mafia Prize: A Mafia Romance Novella by Tara Crescent

Author:Tara Crescent [Crescent, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

6

“What do you want?”

We’re in the same private room as last year, but the decor’s been updated since we were here. This time, the walls are covered with mirrors. The furniture is different too. A Saint Andrews Cross is in the corner, but it’s not what catches my attention. No, it’s the chair in the center of the room. Underneath a spotlight rests a steel chair with stirrups and straps that wouldn’t look out of place in my gynecologist’s office.

I swallow hard and move toward it. “I think the more pertinent question is, what do you want.” I run my hand over the cold metal. “This is intimidating.”

“Are you afraid?” Intensity radiates off Andrei in palpable waves. He takes off his jacket, and undoes his cuffs, placing his diamond-studded cufflinks on a shelf. His rings follow. All except the signet ring of the Sidorov Bratva, a thick platinum ring with a carving of a firebird in flight on its face, which he leaves on the ring finger of his right hand. He loosens his tie, never taking his eyes off me, and rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, his tattoo-covered forearms coming into view. “Do I frighten you?”

Yes. No. There’s something dark about Andrei tonight, something that terrifies me and excites me in equal measure. “I don’t know.”

He stalks toward me with a whip in his hand. The scent of him washes over me, something earthy and musky and very male. “You talked last time about choices,” he says. “About how you have very few.”

“I remember.” The butterflies in my stomach riot. He’s holding a whip, one he’s going to use on me. And once again, I’m not sure if I’m afraid or if I’m aroused. Or if there’s even a difference between the two emotions.

“And now you’re here.” He flicks his wrist, and the tails of the whip scour his forearm. “Submitting to me. If I wanted to whip you, I could. If I wanted to wrap my hand around my throat and choke you, you wouldn’t be able to stop me. Isn’t that right, Mira?”

There’s a hard edge in his voice that sends a shiver through me. My skin prickles with desire, and my breaths come in short and shallow gasps. My breasts heave, and Andrei’s eyes fall to my cleavage. A thrill runs through me. I found my dress in Venice, in a boutique in Dorsoduro, designed by Rosa Tran, the same designer who made Lucia Moretti’s wedding gown. It’s a corset dress, deep red velvet in color, the neckline scooped lower than I usually prefer. The skirt is floor-length, with a long slit up one side, and when I tried it on in the fitting room, I knew I was going to buy it and wear it for Andrei. For him to tear off my body.

“Answer me.” An order, cold and commanding.

His fingers brush the swell of my breasts, and the ache in my core intensifies. I can’t think; I can’t breathe. It takes me a second to remember his words.

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