His to Own (Mafia Kingpins Book 1)

I suppose the visit to my parents’ house goes better than I expect. My dad barely raised his voice and no one pulled a gun or got physical, so I’m going to count this as a win. Technically, I suppose there’s nothing anyone can do at this point, anyway. Miceli has staked his claim, made me his wife and now I might be carrying his baby.

A shiver runs through me at the thought. How could so much have happened in the past twenty-four hours?

I don’t exactly feel comfortable leaving Miceli alone with my parents, but I need to go pack some of my personal belongings upstairs. Plus, I’m hoping to talk to Gia alone and fill her in on the situation.

Once I reach my room, I start pulling open drawers and looking through my closet, throwing everything I want onto my bed. As I’m rummaging through the attached bathroom and packing essentials, I hear someone walk into the room and I turn to see my sister.

“What’s going on?” she asks, standing in the doorway.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.” I walk over, grab her arm and pull her into the bedroom. “We need to talk.”

“Why is Miceli Rossi downstairs?”

I release Gia, clear my throat and spill it. “A lot happened yesterday and I don’t want you to be upset.”

“What happened?” she asks warily.

I immediately dive into the story, starting with how I snuck out and planned to run away. “I was outside of Penn Station when Miceli appeared out of nowhere. While we were talking, this man jumped out of a car and started shooting.”

“What? Oh, my God.”

“It was the scariest moment of my life. Miceli protected me, though, and drove me out of there and over to his place where he said I’d be safe.”

“You?” She echoes, confused. “You don’t think the gunman was after him?”

“He said he thinks I was the target.”

Why didn’t he bring you home?”

“Because he said I’d be safer with him. I’m not sure how to tell you this next part…”

“You spent the night with him.”

It’s not a question and I nod my head. “It’s not like he gave me a choice. He’s very bossy.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Um…” I twist my hands in my lap then slowly nod. “But not until after…” My voice trails off. The last thing I want is for Gia to hate me and think I purposely stole her fiancé.

“After what?”

“After we were married.”

Her eyes go wide in shock. “You married him?”

“Please, don’t hate me! I know he was supposed to be your fiancé. But, Miceli kept saying I wasn’t going to marry Rocco and he wasn’t going to marry you. He told me his name would protect me and the next thing I know there’s a priest and we’re exchanging vows. It all happened so fast. Please, forgive me, Gia. I swear, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

For a moment she doesn’t say anything and I’m terrified I’m going to lose my big sister. Then, she sighs heavily. “I don’t hate you, Lessi. I love you and I want you to be happy. Does Miceli make you happy?”

I consider her question and know it’s too early to be able to answer that question honestly. “I barely know him,” I admit. “But, there’s something there. Even though he’s a little scary, he also has this sweet side. I think he likes taking care of me.”

Gia smiles. “Then I’m happy for you.”

“You promise? Because I didn’t plan on any of this and⁠—”

“I promise.” She grabs my hands in hers and squeezes. “I told you yesterday that man was smitten by you. And this merely proves it. We would’ve made a terrible match, anyway. Especially since I could tell how much he liked you.”

“I love you, Gia,” I say softly.

“Love you, too, Lessi.”

After we hug it out, Gia helps me pack my stuff up into a big suitcase. I’m about to drag it downstairs when Miceli appears and takes it from me.

“I’ve got it,” he states. He looks over at Gia, nods and has the decency to appear slightly uncomfortable.

“You better take good care of my sister,” Gia says.

“I will,” he promises.

“Good. Otherwise I’ll hunt you down and steal her back home.”

Miceli reaches for my hand and tugs me closer. “I’ll treat her like a princess,” he murmurs and kisses my temple. Of course, I blush to my roots.

After saying goodbye to Gia and my parents, Miceli loads my suitcase up in the back of his car and we get inside. “That went better than expected,” he says, and I nod as Leo pulls away from the curb.

“It really did.” I sneak a glance over at Miceli’s strong profile. I still can’t believe this man is my husband. The entire situation is still throwing me for a loop and I honestly don’t know if I’ll adjust any time soon.

“Gia seems fine with it.”

“Despite what she said, I don’t think she wanted to get married. No offense to you, but she’s probably a little relieved.”

Miceli turns to face me. “Everything worked out exactly as it should have.” His dark eyes search mine. “You’re right where you should be—with me. And if you need anything, let me know.”

“Okay,” I murmur. “I’d like to see my best friend Cara. I have to call her and tell her where I am.”

“I’d like to meet her. Invite her over for lunch or dinner.”

“Really?” Even though Miceli has a ruthless reputation when it comes to business, I’m seeing a different side to the mafia kingpin. A gentle, kind, caring side that makes me like him a lot. “Okay, thank you.”

Just when I’m about to ask him if tonight is okay, his phone rings. Miceli switches right back into brutal business mode and gives a few, quick answers. His tone is brusque, almost annoyed, and he keeps the conversation short and clipped. After he disconnects the call, he frowns.

“Something has come up and I need to attend a meeting with the Five Families.” His gaze meets Leo’s in the rear view mirror. “L, I want you to take Alessia home and stay with her. Keep an eye on things.”

“You don’t want me to go with you?” he asks.

I can hear the surprise in his voice.

“No. Watch Alessia and keep her safe.”

“What about you?” I ask.

“What about me, princess?”

“Who’s going to keep you safe?”

His mouth edges up. “I can take care of myself. But thanks for the concern.” He reaches over and lays his hand on my thigh, gently squeezing.

I nod and when we reach the safety of the underground garage, Miceli pulls me into his arms and kisses me very thoroughly right in front of Leo. At first, I’m embarrassed then I’m swooning. Good God, Miceli Rossi can kiss me senseless. When he finally breaks away, I feel a little dizzy and weak in the knees.

“Be good for Leo, okay? And I’ll be home in time for dinner.”

“Okay.” As he starts to walk away, I call out, “You be careful, too.”

Miceli looks back over his shoulder and a strange look crosses over his handsome face. “I will,” he murmurs, and I instantly wonder if anyone else has ever shown any true concern or care for his safety before. I get the feeling if anyone has before, it wasn’t a woman he was seeing.

Leo guides me straight over to the elevator, wheeling my suitcase, and, right before I step inside, I turn and see Miceli standing by his car, watching and making sure we get inside okay. The man takes the role of protector to a whole new level. But, it makes me feel good knowing he cares about my well-being. My father has always watched out for us, but not quite like this. It seems that Miceli is an extreme person and puts one-hundred and ten percent into everything he does, no matter what that is. I can still feel a twinge between my legs from where his extremely large and very demanding cock was earlier. Yeah, he gives everything his all whether it’s business or sex.

As the elevator takes us up to the 129th floor, I study Leo. It’s a good name for him since he resembles a lion. His chest is broad and stretches his t-shirt to the point it looks a little too tight. The sleeves appear to dig into his upper arm muscles and, currently, his big arms are crossed in front of him. His long, light brown hair has golden highlights and is pulled back into a loose man bun, and a dark scruff covers his lower face. Unlike Miceli who is always so polished-looking and neatly-dressed in a suit, Leo appears more laid back and casual in his jeans and t-shirt.

When the door finally glides open, Leo motions for me to step out first. It’s so quiet in the beautiful, bright apartment and it occurs to me that I have the entire place to myself right now. Well, except for Leo, but he probably has things to do. I’m so curious about my new husband and I decide to explore. After all, he told me this is my home too now and that he wants me to be comfortable. As I’m debating where to go first, Leo tells me he’s going to take my suitcase up to the bedroom.

“Thank you,” I tell him, watching as he heads that way. Once he’s out of sight, I wander down the hallway and peek into every room. When I reach what must be Miceli’s office, I step inside and instantly get a whiff of his scent hanging in the air. He has this incredibly sexy smell that is very masculine. I’m not sure what it is, but it has notes of citrus and leather. And, of course, it makes my stomach somersault.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this curious about another person before and I’m drawn over to his large, wooden desk and look down to see what’s on it. It’s very neat and well-organized, not a thing out of place. Other than his laptop and an empty coaster, there’s not a speck of dust and the dark wood shines as though it were just dusted. There’s also a framed photo and I reach over and pick it up. Leaning a hip against the desk, I study the picture behind the glass, and come to the conclusion it must be Miceli and his family.

Squinting, I study each man, the young woman and the older couple. They’re all smiling and it looks like there’s a poinsettia on the nearby table. I’m assuming it’s his family at Christmas. His brothers are just as good-looking as Miceli, but a little younger and don’t appear quite as formidable. The woman must be his sister and she’s stunningly beautiful.

When a throat clears, my head snaps up and I quickly set the picture down where I found it, feeling guilty for being caught snooping. Leo watches me closely.

“Can I help you find anything?” he asks.

“Uh, no. I was just looking around.”

“Mmhmm.”

Moving away from the desk, I walk over to the window and look out at the amazing view of the city. I don’t hear Leo leave, so I glance over my shoulder to see him still standing there. Dammit. I hope he isn’t planning to follow me around everywhere.

“It’s a lovely view,” I say, trying to break the awkward moment.

“Mmhmm.”

Turning back around, I decide to go upstairs and unpack my things. And Leo follows me. Once we reach the master suite, he remains in the sitting room and I go into the bedroom. At least he didn’t come into the bedroom, too. I have a weird feeling he’d follow me straight into the bathroom if I let him. The men around here really take their protector role to new levels of extreme.

I pull the door shut a little so I can have some privacy. I didn’t bring a lot of things with me, but enough to keep me busy for the next forty minutes or so as I organize and put things away. When I’m finished, I look around and wonder what to do next. I’m itching to look through Miceli’s things, but with Leo right in the next room, I don’t want him reporting back that I was being a nosy snoop. I suppose I could lay down and take a nap, but I’m not tired. Drumming my fingers against my thighs, I realize what I really want is information about the man I married.

And, if Leo is going to be my shadow, maybe I can pry some intel from him. After all, they’re about the same age and they seem like friends more so than business associates. Unfortunately, Leo has proved he isn’t the most chatty bodyguard.

With a plan forming, I walk out of the bedroom and see him slouched down in a chair, ankle crossed over his knee, and scrolling through his phone. The moment I appear, he snaps upright, setting the phone on his large thigh.

“Are you going to follow me everywhere?” I ask.

“Pretty much.”

“Then you should know I’m going down to the kitchen,” I tell him and sashay past. As expected, he follows on my heels all the way down to the sun-soaked kitchen. It smells clean, like lemons, and the marble surfaces gleam. Miceli must have a cleaning crew that comes in and keeps the place spotless because not one thing is out of place or even remotely dirty or unkempt-looking. I wonder if he’s OCD and has an aversion to clutter and germs or if he’s just a neat freak? I decide to ask my new shadow who is now sitting at the kitchen table.

“Does a cleaning company come here?” I ask, running a finger along the sparkling surface of the island. Above me, there’s a rack full of hanging pots and pans with not even a speck of dust on them.

“Three times a week,” he informs me.

“Is Miceli a neat freak and weird about things being organized and shiny?”

Leo chokes back a laugh and I look over. “He likes things to be in order,” he finally manages to say.

“Clearly.” I start opening drawers, searching for the things I’m going to need. Since Leo is fairly closed-mouthed and I want information, I’m going to rely on some advice I heard a while back—that there are two ways to get to a man: sex or food. Sex is off the table, so I’m going to try baking my world-class lasagna. It’s an old family recipe with a little extra goodness to it that makes most mouths water. Also, I’m going to make some dessert in the form of the most delicious chocolate cookies known to man and I plan on having Leo taste test them. Besides, when Miceli comes home, I want to have dinner ready for him.

After searching through the pantry and cupboards, I luckily find all the ingredients I need. I think someone must grocery shop and cook, too, and then I remember Piero.

“Where’s Piero?” I ask.

“It’s his day off.”

“What does Miceli do without him? Can he cook?”

That gets me a belly laugh. “No. Miceli can’t cook to save his life.”

“Lucky for him, I’m pretty good in the kitchen.” As I start mixing ingredients, I notice Leo’s nose perk up.

“What’re you making?” he finally asks, watching as I blend butter, sugar and eggs.

“My family lasagna and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.” I slant him a look. “I don’t suppose you’d like to be my taste-tester?”

He sits up straighter. “I can do that.”

Smothering a smirk, I move around the kitchen and work on the meal and dessert. I keep him engaged in small talk, warming him up with a spoonful of chocolate chip cookie batter. “How is it?” I ask, and he groans.

“Delicious.”

“Good.” While dropping spoonfuls of batter on the baking tray, Leo watches closely, practically drooling. “So, how did you and Miceli meet?” I ask.

“School.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten maybe?”

I place the tray into the oven and set the timer. Then, I walk back over to the island and continue working on the lasagna. Deciding to cut to the chase, I say, “Do you give more than one or two word answers because I’m very curious about the man I married and if you want some of this absolutely delicious food I’m making, I’m going to need more from you.”

Leo tilts his head, studying me. “I think I like you,” he announces.

“Okaaay,” I say slowly, but inwardly I’m smiling. Food will get a man every single time, I think triumphantly.

Leo stands up, moves closer, and sits down on the opposite side of the island from me. “Miceli needs someone like you in his life.”

“Someone like me?”

“He needs…” He frowns as though searching for the right word. “Softness.”

Well, he is rather hard, I think wickedly, but I don’t dare say that out loud. “He seems very focused on work.”

“He is. It’s his responsibility to make sure the Rossi name stays on top and remains one to be feared. That doesn’t come easy.”

“No, I imagine it doesn’t.” I know my husband is a force to be reckoned with and I can only imagine what he’d done to keep his family on top. Their reputation is daunting. “Have you always been his bodyguard?”

“No. I worked for a different family at one point.” His voice trails off and, I swear, a note of regret, or maybe it’s sadness, creeps into his voice. “But, that was a long time ago. Anyway, I’ve been his personal guard for the past five years.”

Even though Leo isn’t a big talker, he’s starting to warm up to me and that makes me happy. Eventually, it doesn’t feel like I’m pulling teeth and he begins offering a little information here and there on his own. I find out a few new things about my husband, but mostly that he’s under constant pressure with the Five Families and he works way too hard.

After Leo gobbles down three cookies, he eyes me closely. “I think you might turn out to be a good thing. I have to admit, I had my doubts at first.”

“And now you’re convinced?” I ask teasingly.

“Not convinced,” he admits shrewdly, “but Miceli already seems…I don’t know. Happier…lighter.”

Hearing his friend say that pleases me more than I thought possible. “Good,” I say softly. “I’m glad.”

And, I really am. There’s so much darkness in Miceli’s world and being his light is something I know I can do. In fact, it’s something I really, really want to do.