I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. novel Chapter 40

Madeleine

𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡

The car door opened and before I could even lift my dress to step out, his hand was already there, waiting for mine.

I placed my fingers in his. My skin was trembling and I hoped he wouldn’t notice, but his hand swallowed mine.

He stepped out first, tall and sharp in his black suit, jacket tailored within an inch of his life. When he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, it was so smooth it looked choreographed. His jaw tightened for just a second before he turned, facing the cameras and the flashing lights like he’d done it a thousand times.

Maybe he had and then, he smiled, and that smile. It was the kind you only see in magazines or movie trailers, the kind that's too perfect to be real.

I couldn’t look away. Not from the way he stood, or the way the light hit the sharpness of his face, or the way the air around him shifted like it knew who he was.

And somehow I was on his arm.

I tried to stand still, tried not to breathe too hard or trip over my own feet. The slit in my dress caught the breeze and I could feel the silk shift against my legs. Was it too much? Did I look ridiculous?

“Ready?” he asked, close to my ear.

I nodded too fast. “Yes.”

He placed his hand on my back and I forgot what air felt like for a moment. We moved together, mine trying to match his stride without wobbling. The flashes from the cameras stung my eyes and I wanted to look down, but I kept my chin lifted. I could do this. I just had to... keep breathing.

Then the lights hit me fully and the lobby opened before us in gold and glass and marble and movement.

He didn’t slow when the hostess greeted us. Her smile was too wide, like the kind I used to give customers who were yelling at me for mixing up their oat milk.

“Mr. Capone, Miss—?”

“She’s with me,” he said, his hand never left my back.

I didn’t know what it meant. That kind of power, the way people stepped aside for him, the way their eyes flicked to me and then back to him as if I was just a question and he was the answer.

He took me straight to the bar, “Neat,” he told the bartender, and then he turned to me again, fingers brushing against my shoulder, just above where the fabric dipped low across my collarbone.

“What are you having, sunshine?”

I stared up at him. God, he was handsome, not in the pretty-boy way like Carlos was. No, he was all sharp and manly.

“Oh. Um...” I blinked, “Just water?”

His lips curved in a way that made my stomach flip. And even though my heart was racing and the air smelled like flowers and money and people more expensive than I would ever be, I felt okay.

Adriano handed me a glass himself, mot a waiter. The crystal trembled slightly in my grip because my hands were still nervous and cold. Our fingers brushed and that tiny little touch lit a spark up my spine.

He leaned close, “Stay close to me tonight. No wandering.”

I nodded, I didn’t ask why, I didn’t argue, I just... nodded. I took a small sip of water to calm my heartbeat and peeked at the crowd around us.

It was like watching a scene from a movie. Men in tuxedos, women in glittering gowns, champagne swirling in tall glasses.

Someone approached us from behind, “Mr. Capone.”

Adriano turned, “Congressman Halvorsen.”

“And who’s this?” the man asked, giving me a polite once-over.

I opened my mouth, but Adriano answered first. “She’s with me.”

“Ah, she's exquisite,” he said.

His wife, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide her interest. She looked at Adriano like he was dessert and she hadn’t had sugar in a long time. She looked me up and down with a small, amused smile, then turned to Adriano.

The congressman slapped Adriano on the shoulder, “Well, I’ll let you two enjoy the evening. I have donors to charm and hands to shake. Don't be a stranger, Capone.”

They turned to leave except she didn’t follow her husband right away.

She stepped closer, resting her manicured fingers on his arm. “Remember Aspen?”

Then, she popped her cheek with her tongue and curled her fingers into a fist... making a motion that—

Oh my god.

My jaw dropped. That was not a normal gesture. That was... that was rated R in every country.

She winked. Winked.

Adriano just reached up and gently lifted her hand off him, “Your husband is waiting for you.”

She let out a little hum, not even embarrassed. “Call me if you ever get bored.”

Then she walked off, hips swaying. I was frozen, standing there holding a glass of water like it was the only thing keeping me from screaming.

Did they…?

Did they—?

I turned to Adriano slowly, oh, he was with her... like with her. Her imaginary hand was still doing... that... in my brain.

And then, as if my brain hated me, I remembered what Carlos said, “You think he’s gonna put up with a girl who won’t even suck his dick?”

My stomach twisted.

Was that why men like Adriano went for women like her? Was that what he liked?

He didn't say anything about it, didn't even acknowledge her gesture as he led me to the ballroom, and I almost stopped in the doorway.

It was... stunning.

The lighting was soft, the chandelier above us glittering like a thousand stars, tables dressed in white and gold surrounded the stage, waiters gliding past, the air full of string music and something floral and expensive.

I felt so out of place it almost hurt.

He led me to a table—table twelve. I recognized his family was already seated there. Adriano pulled my chair out for me and my feet paused.

Nobody had ever done that for me before.

“Thank you...” I whispered, almost surprised at my own voice.

I sat down carefully, trying not to wrinkle the dress or fall out of it. The slit parted a little over my leg and I crossed them quickly, cheeks heating. The lace edge of the dress brushed my skin and I swore I felt his eyes on me.

Don’t blush. Don’t blush. You’re being normal.

I turned to greet his family, Aunt Alessia, Claire, the brothers. I smiled, maybe a little too brightly, but I couldn’t help it. I was trying, trying to be polite, to make a good impression, I suddenly had an urge for his family to like me.

Dante grinned at me across the table and I gave him a nervous smile back. Adriano didn’t say anything, but I felt his hand rest on the back of my chair.

The host began to speak from the podium, but I didn’t hear any of it. I was too busy making sure I wasn’t chewing my lip, too busy trying not to shake from my nerves because the room kept spinning around me..

As if he was sensing my discomfort, Adriano leaned toward me, “You look so beautiful.”

I turned, heart stuttering, “I... thank you,” I said, barely above a whisper.

Then his hand slipped under the table and touched my knee. I flinched slightly, not because it scared me but because it surprised me. His fingers were warm as they brushed over my skin, trailing up the inside of my thigh where the slit of my dress parted.

“I meant it,” he said, fingers drifting lazily. “You’re fucking radiant. They’re all staring.”

I looked up at him quickly. “I think they’re looking at you,” I said, my voice embarrassingly breathy.

“They are,” he murmured. “They’re trying to figure out how I managed to land the most beautiful woman in the room.”

My mouth parted. I didn’t know what to say to that. Did he mean that? He couldn’t possibly. He had to be joking, right?

We were halfway through some speech about economic growth—I didn’t really understand it, but I tried to look interested—when I smelled something.

A perfume so sweet it curled in my nose. It reminded me of the department store counters.

Then came the voice.

“Adriano,” she said.

Her hand was already on his shoulder by the time I looked at her. My stomach did something strange and unpleasant.

I looked up and there she was. Tall. Tan. Shiny. She had that kind of face that made you feel underdressed just by breathing near her.

“I didn’t know you were back in the country,” she said in a very beautiful voice.

He didn’t answer her, he just tilted his head and stared at her. She leaned closer. Her long lashes fluttered at me and she smiled, showing off those perfect teeth.

“Darling,” she said to Adriano, but her eyes stayed on me. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

My heart pounded. I didn’t know what to do. Should I smile? Say hello?

“No,” Adriano said.

“You’re terrible,” she giggled, “I missed this. Missed you.”

I sat very still. First that politician’s wife, and now this woman. My hands were clasped tightly in my lap, knuckles pale. It didn’t take a genius to see how well-practiced Adriano was in situations like this... how familiar he was with being wanted. She reached for him, letting her fingers trail down his shoulder.

“We had so much fun, didn’t we? God, that weekend in Palermo... the yacht, do you remember?”

He didn’t react much but I saw the twitch of his jaw.

“Vaguely,” he said.

Her hand crept lower, her chest was pressed against his side and I tried not to look at how perfectly symmetrical her breasts were. I felt small and... average.

Then Adriano tapped the table twice and my attention was drawn to it. I looked down. His fingers were resting there, near mine.

I didn’t know what to do.

But I let my hand inch forward, unsure until his little finger hooked around mine.

He was still watching her, but I wasn’t looking at either of them anymore. I was staring at where our fingers touched.

“Giorgia,” he said, suddenly, “your tits are in my wine.”

I nearly choked.

She blinked down, surprised. “Oh. Sorry—”

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