I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. novel Chapter 44

Adriano

⫘☠︎︎⫘

She was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, barefoot, hair a mess, in that yellow dress I’d bought her on a whim because it looked soft and sunny and fuckable. And she actually wore it. The tiny sunflowers dotted all over the fabric made her look even sweeter than she already was, if that was even possible.

I sat back in the armchair by the window, fully dressed, a fresh black shirt rolled to my forearms, watch glinting in the light. My gun sat comfortably beneath my jacket. She had no idea. No idea what kind of man was sitting here watching her tuck a curl behind her ear like she was afraid to take up space in my house.

She kept fidgeting with the hem of the dress, smoothing it down, looking at herself like she wasn’t sure she belonged in it. She did. She belonged in my clothes. In my house. In my bed.

Her curls were wild today. Soft ringlets tumbling down her back, a few strands framing her cheeks. They bounced every time she moved. God, I wanted to fist them, ruin them, tug her back into the bed and make her miss her first class.

Instead, I just watched.

There was a beautiful kind of peace in the way she moved. She didn’t fill the room with noise. She didn’t try to impress me, she just did her own thing. I was so used to women trying to be sexy or seductive, not that there's anything wrong with that, I just find Madeleine fucking refreshing.

She turned and caught me staring.

“Do I look okay?” she asked hesitantly, like I wasn’t two seconds from dragging her back by the hips and marking her neck just so everyone at that stupid college would know who she belonged to.

“You look...” my voice came out lower than I meant. I cleared it, tried again, “Yeah, you look perfect.”

Her whole face lit up and fuck, that undid me.

I liked seeing her like that. Watching her glow like that, because of something I said, something I did... I liked making her happy.

She muttered about needing to skip breakfast or she'd be late. I didn’t say anything. I was too busy committing every second of this morning to memory. The way her lip gloss caught the light. The way she smelled like vanilla and flowery shampoo and something sweet underneath it all.

She asked if I could drop her off. Of course I would. I’d already told Silvio to pull the car around. I wasn’t letting her take the bus anymore.

I followed her to the front door, slow, dragging my eyes down her legs one last time before we stepped outside.

We walked out into the morning light, her curls bouncing with every step. I was half a step ahead reaching for the passenger side door before she could even think about it.

She mumbled a soft, “Thanks,” and slid in, the hem of that little yellow dress riding up just enough. I inhaled once, long and slow through my nose and shut the door before I changed my fucking mind, and circled to the driver’s seat.

She didn’t stop talking the entire ride.

Not in a bad way. It was just... her.

“So, we’re dissecting a sheep’s heart today,” she said, seatbelt tugged tight across her chest, legs crossed, hands fluttering as she talked. “I mean, I get why it’s part of the curriculum, but also, poor sheep, you know?”

She was talking about sheep hearts, and all I could think about was how pretty her lips looked in the sunlight.

Then she added, “Also, I once fainted in high school biology when I saw a frog’s intestines… but I’m better now. Mostly. I only faint like, once a semester now.”

Her bare leg brushed the edge of the console, skin warm, soft. She didn’t even know what she was doing.

“Oh! One time in my first semester, I accidentally injected a banana instead of the orange during a practice lab because I got nervous and forgot which fruit was the dummy. The professor just stared at me like I was the strangest creature he’d ever seen. And I couldn’t even explain myself because I started laughing and then almost choked on my gum.”

She talked with her hands, full of life, “And there was this goat last year that kept trying to eat my braid. Every time I turned around, she had it in her mouth like it was hay. I had to do a whole exam with this goat chewing my hair.”

She laughed at herself and shook her head. “Vet school’s not for the weak, Adriano. It’s blood and fur and poop and unrequited animal love.”

I kept my hand tight around the steering wheel. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

She went quiet for a beat as we reached her college, then said, “Thanks for driving me. And for the dress. And... just everything.”

I pulled up outside her campus and looked at her.

“You gonna be okay in there?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

I leaned in just enough for her to stop breathing again, her eyes snapping to my mouth like she couldn’t help it.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I murmured, “Where’s my goodbye kiss?”

She went pink instantly but she didn’t hesitate. She leaned over the console and brushed a soft kiss to my cheek.

I didn’t move.

I just stared at her.

And frowned.

The look on her face faltered fast, her smile fading as worry filled those big, gentle eyes.

“That wasn’t a kiss,” I said, quiet. “That was a pat on the face with your lips.”

She blinked, then bit her lip like she’d been caught doing something wrong then she shifted.

Both arms came over the center console as she leaned in, tits knocking together, pressing forward, that tiny sunflower dress climbing up her thighs. Her tits pushed up just enough for me to lose focus for half a second.

And then her mouth was on mine again.

And still not enough.

I didn’t kiss her back. I made her work for it.

She hesitated like she was waiting for a signal and then parted her lips. Just enough to suck gently on my lower lip, drawing it into her mouth before letting go.

When she pulled back, her face was barely inches from mine, lips slightly parted, breathing soft. Those eyes searched mine like she needed to know she did it right. At that moment, my approval meant everything to her.

I reached across the console, wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and dragged her mouth right back to mine.

“Try again,” I murmured. “Slower this time. Don’t rush it. You want it, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Show me.”

This time, her lips met mine with a little more pressure. She lingered there, breath shaky. Waiting for something. I didn't touch her anywhere except for the back of her head.

“More pressure,” I murmured into her mouth, “Don’t be shy. I can take it.”

Her hands clinging to the centre console, dress riding higher over her thighs but she didn’t pull back.

“Now pull my lower lip into your mouth again,” I told her, breathing into her mouth.

She did, mouth wrapping around my lip, sucking.

“Such a good girl,” I said, pulling back just enough to speak, “Now open your mouth wider. Let me in.”

I tilted her head, deepened it, coaxed her mouth open wider with mine, letting my tongue slide past her lips.

“Use your tongue,” I whispered, coaxing. I let the tip of mine flick against hers, “Just the tip. Let it touch mine, baby.”

Her tongue brushed mine, tentative and sweet, and I groaned against her like I hadn’t kissed a woman in years. She tasted like nerves and honey.

One hand stayed at the back of her neck, holding her in place, the other slid down to her thigh, just above her knee. Bare skin. Soft as sin. I gripped it gently—not enough to scare her, just enough to claim it—and I felt the way her breath stuttered, the way her knees shifted slightly as if her whole body didn’t know what to do with me.

When I finally eased back, her lips were kiss-bitten, flushed and trembling, eyes all wide and glazed over like I’d knocked every thought out of her pretty little head.

“Again,” I said, low. “Slower this time.”

She leaned in and kissed me like she was learning how to breathe through it, like this was the first kiss that ever mattered. And for me, it was.

“Good girl,” I murmured into her mouth, letting the praise sink in.

Her fingers stayed curled tight around the console, white-knuckled.

“Did I... do it right?” she whispered.

I finally let myself touch her just my fingers on her jaw, my thumb brushing the curve of her chin.

“No,” I said, “you didn’t do it right.”

Her face fell. My thumb pressed a little harder over her pulse.

“You did it perfect.”

She made a sound that was half breath, half laugh and I sat back in the seat.

“Now get your cute little ass out of this car before I change your schedule and make you late for every class you’ve got today.”

She blinked again, flustered, trying to remember what “college” was, and fumbled for the handle.

“I’ll pick you up after class,” I said, grabbing the gearshift.

She opened the door, “You—you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I cut in. “And I will.”

She hesitated, then nodded and stepped out, “Okay.”

“Sunshine?”

She paused, door half-closed. “Yeah?”

“That was a good start,” I said, “But next time, I want tongue first.”

Her mouth dropped open then she burst out laughing as she walked towards the building, curls bouncing behind her, sunflower dress fluttering around those soft thighs.

She turned to look back with a little shy smile. She gave me this small wave with her fingers.

I should’ve driven off but I didn’t. I sat there, one hand on the wheel, as I watched her disappear into the building.

And then I saw him.

He was standing near a blacked-out Cadillac parked too close to the curb. Slouched, cigarette between his fingers. Remo Lombardi.

My jaw locked.

Rino Lombardi’s only son. Little prince of the North Side scum. Spoiled, weak, and a little fucking bitch. A fucking parasite in designer clothes.

And his eyes... those ratty fucking eyes weren’t scanning the crowd. They were locked on one place. Right where Madeleine had just vanished. Not the door. Not the flow of students.

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