The Mafia Dons Pet (Masha and Luciano) novel Chapter 4

Luciano

The clock struck eleven as I stepped into the dim conference room at the discreet Ritz.

Sean and Burak were already seated, cigarettes glowing in the haze.

No smiles. In our world, smiles were for threats.

I moved through the smoke. “Matteo’s late again?”

Sean, gray hair catching the low light, checked his pocket watch before sipping his drink. “Five minutes.” His voice was calm—like a man who’d survived too many wars to care.

Burak, my age but harder, exhaled a plume of smoke. “As always.”

The door opened quietly. Matteo strode in, his dark eyes meeting mine with that familiar flicker of amusement. Behind him came Wassily—the youngest at twenty-five, but no less dangerous.

A waiter slipped in, silent and quick, laying out drinks. He knew better than to speak.

Matteo broke the silence first. “Heard about your Sicilian problem.”

Sean chuckled dryly. “News travels fast. Took me eight years to push them out of Dublin.”

I said nothing, letting him continue.

Sean studied his burning cigarette before speaking. “Their guy’s Dominic Hill. A rabid dog, not even tied properly to the families. Just a madman with delusions of grandeur.” He leaned forward, voice low. “Take my advice—crush them before they build a nest. They breed like vermin. Harder to kill once they’re settled.”

My fingers tapped the table. I didn’t know Dominic’s face yet, but I could already picture it twisted in fear.

Wassily leaned in, eyes sharp. “Want him gone? I can help.”

I knew he could. His father had built the deadliest assassin network in Russia.

But I didn’t rely on another man’s blade. Ever.

“I’ll handle it.” My tone left no room for argument. Depending on someone else was as good as handing them your leash.

The conversation shifted—shipments, territories, loose ends. Two hours passed, the first blush of dawn warming the edges of the room.

Matteo finally smiled. “The wedding’s coming soon. We’ll all be there for your father.”

I nodded. They always came for family events.

But Masha’s face flashed unbidden in my mind.

It’d been less than a day since I met her, but her stubborn gaze lingered. That attitude of hers—abominable. Adorable. Infuriating.

I almost laughed at myself. Luciano Vincenzoni, laughing? The Sicilians would have a field day.

I forced the thought aside. “Send me your security list. I want every name attending the wedding.”

We all rose, signaling the end of the meeting.

—

The past two weeks blurred into business. I’d still made time for Sunday dinners.

Masha hadn’t shown up.

She’d answer for that tonight.

Antonio had the wedding security locked down tight. That was good. With a crowd that big, it was impossible to track everyone otherwise.

Sean greeted me when I stepped into the hall. “Security looks solid,” he said, lighting another cigarette.

I nodded. “It needs to be.”

At that moment, I saw Emma gliding through the crowd—with Masha trailing behind.

I stopped.

Somehow Emma had convinced her to wear the blue bridesmaid’s dress. It hugged her curves perfectly, the soft straps baring her shoulders, the color making her gray eyes burn brighter.

Too many heads turned. Too many men looked too long.

My jaw tightened.

Matteo slid beside me, smirking. “Don’t tell me that’s the girl you’re marrying off?”

“That’s her. My stepsister,” I said flatly, hating the way she drew so much attention.

Sean gave a knowing glance. “That’s her, alright.”

I looked up, and our eyes locked.

Had she been watching me? Had she noticed the way I looked at her?

I looked away just as Emma reached me, smiling bright. I kissed her temple lightly. “Where’s Kol?”

“With our father. Probably already drunk,” she said, glancing behind her as Masha came closer.

I couldn’t look away. Not when she looked like that.

I slid my arm around her waist, pulling her firmly to my side as I introduced her to Sean and Matteo. Their eyes flicked between us, noting my grip.

Masha tried to step back. I didn’t let her.

Her scent was subtle, but it pulled me in. Leaning close, I murmured, “Why didn’t you come to dinner on Sunday?”

She met my gaze, cool and unflinching. “I had a project. I told my mom.”

My jaw tightened. “You should have called me.”

Her lips curved in defiance. “I didn’t think I needed to report to you.”

My patience thinned.

Without another word, I took her arm and led her away from the prying eyes of the guests. My grip was firm, not painful. Not yet.

Once we were alone, I turned, voice low. “Are you trying to die, Masha?”

She shook her head, but I saw the flicker of fear.

I stepped closer, my hand hovering near her neck but not touching. Yet.

“You’ll obey me,” I said softly, deadly. “You’ll never disrespect me again. Understand?”

She swallowed, silent.

Foolish, brave girl. She intrigued me.

—

Masha

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look away.

He stepped closer, a predator closing in.

“I’m the head of this family,” he said, voice dark as thunder. “The mafia boss. You will obey every command.”

I trembled. “I don’t want to be a mafia princess,” I whispered, shaking but firm. “I’m only here for my mother. I don’t want your world.”

Luciano’s eyes narrowed.

He closed the distance in a blink. I stumbled back, hitting the edge of the table.

Then he was looming over me like a storm.

I gasped, grabbing the table to steady myself—just before his fingers closed around my neck.

Air vanished as his grip tightened.

Oh God. I messed with the Mafia Don.

I was doomed.