The Mafia Dons Pet (Masha and Luciano) novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Friday Night.

*Luciano*

I waited impatiently, tapping my fingers against my whiskey glass. I checked my watch again, 7:27, and she was still nowhere in sight.

I remembered clearly telling Masha not to be late, and she just had to go and do the opposite. She was insufferable, I couldn’t get her to do one thing right.

I’d brought a gun tonight for security, tucked safely in the waistband of my black suit, but it felt almost right to point it at Masha’s head and force her to be complicit for once.

I’m Luciano Vincenzoni, Mafia boss, feared in all of Canada by dangerous men. But this 21 year old always made it her personal mission to test me.

For the umpteenth time that night, I glanced up the staircase, waiting for dark wavy hair, and her signature rebellious gaze to finally appear.

But there was no one.

The sound of footsteps pulled me out of my misery and I turned to see Kol making his way over, his usual broad grin softening his lined face. “Can you believe Ivan is eighty–one?” he asked, clapping me on the shoulder. “The old hoot looks as strong as

ever.

forced a brief smile, but my gaze shifted back to the stairs. “He does,” I murmured, barely paying attention.

My mind was on the entrance, waiting for this blasted girl to finally grace us with her presence.

Kol clapped me on the shoulder again. “I have to go find my wife before she commandeers this whole event,” he laughed, oblivious to the tension radiating off me.

“We’ll see you soon,” he added, before turning to leave, his laughter trailing down the hall.

I nodded absently, my focus still pinned on the top of the staircase, tension building with every tick of my watch. Then, finally, there she was.

Masha appeared, descending the stairs in a black lace dress that seemed to absorb the room’s gaze as if she’d called it all to her. Men turned, openly staring, but she didn’t give any of them a glance. My grip tightened around the whiskey glass as she walked right past me, my jaw clenched hard enough to crack. If looks could kill, that dress would’ve been left in ashes.

I lifted the glass to my lips, draining the whiskey in one smooth pull, letting the burn settle the heat rising in me. She didn’t even spare me a glance, going straight to Emma, leaning close to greet

her with a delicate smile, her hand brushing Emma’s shoulder.

I noticed the way her dress hugged her, tracing her frame like it had been designed by sin itself. The slit at her thigh revealed smooth, bare skin, making every inch seem like an unspoken invitation to run my hand across her body.

I’d expected wavy hair, but it was straight tonight. And her lips… I’d never found makeup attractive, but on Masha, it looked exquisite.

She looked like a dream, my dream, every man’s dream. The only problem was the last part. It drove me so mad, that I was considering taking out my gun, and shooting at the eyes of every man that had glanced at her.

When Masha turned, I almost had a heart attack.

Her back was bare, the fabric clinging low at her hips. Her back curved beautifully, and the dress accentuated every curve of her body, paying special attention to her already perfect ass. The sight of her was driving me half mad, and for obvious

reasons.

I caught men’s lingering stares as Masha spoke to Emma animatedly, and a fresh wave of anger flared up.

How could she wear a dress like that, here of all places?

As if the trouble with the Sicilian’s weren’t enough to occupy my mind, now, it seemed, Masha had become my biggest problem.

I set down my empty glass on a random table close to me and crossed the room.

She noticed me almost immediately, her easy expression changing as she moved, trying to hide herself behind Emma. Masha must be aware that she has disobeyed me once again. Kol had just joined them, his arm around Emma’s shoulders, looking on with that easy grin.

I forced a nod of acknowledgment toward my sister. “Emma,” I muttered stiffly. I wasn’t about to let Masha hide behind anyone tonight.

I took her by the arm, firmly, and pulled her to my side. She glanced up at me with that look I’d come to loathe and look forward to. But she knew better than to pull away.

This was Ivan’s birthday after all. The old man had turned eighty–one, and while this party alone might’ve bored me to death on any other night, he had earned his respect in the Vencenzoni family. Ivan had given his loyalty to the Mafia since… Hell, since before I was born.

It was the only reason I hadn’t dragged Masha out of this place already, torn off that damn dress, and locked her away from all the attention she was attracting.

Instead, I decided to play the game.

I leaned down slightly, brushing my lips against her forehead in a gesture that was almost loving. “We need to talk,” I whispered close to her ear.

My tone was soft, but from the way her body tensed in my arms, it was obvious she knew I wasn’t asking.

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed her arm, steered her toward the hallway, pushed open the bathroom door and dragged her inside.

Once the door clicked shut behind us, she shook off my hand, glaring up at me with that look of hers.

My eyes roamed over her, from the curve of her shoulders, down to the lace hugging her hips.

Even here, with no one else around, she still drew me in. I was fascinated by everything about her. The single thought was maddening.

“Masha,” I started, forcing my tone to stay controlled, “that dress… Do you have any idea what it’s doing out there?”

She crossed her arms, tilting her chin, her red lips frowning at me. “Emma helped me pick it out.” She kept her eyes fixed on me, as if she knew what I’d say next.

I shrugged off my suit jacket, handing it to her. “Put this on.” When she made no move to take it, I reached over to drape it around her shoulders. “I don’t want any more men looking at you like that.‘

”

With an exasperated sigh, she slipped her arms into the jacket, tugging the collar against her neck as if it burned. “It’s too hot,‘ she muttered, already fidgeting.

I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a rough whisper. “If you take it off, I’ll make you kneel on my lap and spank you until that attitude of yours disappears.‘

A thrill sparked inside me as the threat left my mouth. I imagined it vividly, Masha’s body bent over against mine, my hand landing on her perfect bum, reminding her who was in charge.

Masha brought out something raw in me, a primal, possessiveness I’d never felt before.

For a moment, she seemed to catch her breath, her shocked gaze locked on mine. “What are you talking about? You’re crossing the border!”

“I don’t care the fucking border!” I shouted.

And then, her gray eyes widened in shock, as if I’d crossed some invisible line. But I didn’t care. Masha had been pushing my limits all night, and she knew exactly what she was doing.

Her eyes narrowed even more as she stuck up her nose at me.

Chapter 11: Friday Night.

“Do you talk to Emma like this too? Or is it only me?” “Emma listens,” I shot back, my tone clipped. “Unlike you.” She huffed, tilting her head, as if she liked this game we were playing. “Emme helped me pick out this dress. Would you drag her into a bathroom and scold her too?”

I clenched my jaw, struggling to find a retort, angry, that I’d let her bait me. She had me cornered, and from the look in her eyes, she knew it.

Damn her.

I took a deep breath, hardening my gaze. “Never wear anything like that again,” I warned. “Make sure you’re fucking covered. There was no way I was going to let her win this round.

Chapter 12: Push and Pull.