Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

Her breath caught.

”Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you?” he murmured, his thumb stroking the swell of her breast through the dress. ”Seven years, Eve. Seven years of watching you. Wanting you. Fantasizing about all the ways I’d make you mine.”

”That’s...” She couldn’t think with his hand on her. ”That’s creepy.”

He laughed, low and dark. ”Oh, piccola. You haven’t seen creepy yet. But you will. You’ll see every twisted, possessive, obsessive part of me. And by the time I’m done, you’ll crave it.”

He released her, stepped back, adjusted his suit jacket like he hadn’t just promised to consume her entire existence.

”Get your shoes. Marco’s waiting.”

****

POV: DIMITRI

Marco was already in the lobby when the private elevator opened, standing by a black SUV with tinted windows. Six-foot-four of solid muscle, former special forces, completely loyal. He’d been with Dimitri for ten years, had saved his life more times than either of them counted.

And now, he’d protect Eve with the same lethal dedication.

”Boss,” Marco greeted, his eyes flicking to Eve with professional assessment. ”Ma’am.”

”This is Eve,” Dimitri said, his hand settling possessively on her lower back. ”She’s under our protection now. Anyone touches her, they die. Understood?”

”Understood.” Marco opened the back door. ”Ma’am.”

Eve hesitated, then slid into the SUV. Dimitri followed, and Marco took the driver’s seat.

”Where are we going?” Marco asked.

Eve gave her address....a building in the Diamond District, respectable but not ostentatious....and Marco pulled into traffic.

Dimitri watched her as they drove. She was looking out the window, her hands clasped in her lap, her jaw tight with tension.

”Relax,” he said quietly.

”How can I relax? I’m trapped in a contract with a man I barely know, moving out of my apartment, and apparently I need armed security to do it.”

”You know me better than you think.” He reached over, took her hand. ”You’ve known me for years, Eve. Family dinners. Holidays. You’ve sat across from me, talked to me, trusted me.”

”I knew Mike’s friend. I didn’t know... this.”

”This is who I’ve always been. You just never looked close enough to see it.”

She turned to face him, her eyes searching his. ”What are you, Dimitri? Really?”

He could lie. Should lie. Should keep her in the dark for as long as possible.

But that’s not how this worked. If she was going to be his, she needed to know exactly what that meant.

”I’m a businessman,” he said carefully. ”I own legitimate enterprises...clubs, real estate, investments. But I also control the less legitimate side of this city’s economy. The things people want but can’t get legally.”

”You’re a criminal.”

”I’m a realist. People want drugs, weapons, women, high-stakes gambling. I provide those things. I also ensure that the truly evil predators...the ones who traffic children, who torture for fun...don’t operate in my territory. I have rules. I enforce them. And the city is safer for it, even if the law doesn’t see it that way.”

She pulled her hand back. ”You’re the mafia.”

”I prefer ’organized crime lord,’ but yes. My father was the Don before me. Now I am. And that means I have enemies. Rivals. People who would love to hurt me by hurting what’s mine.”

”And I’m yours now.”

”Yes.”

”For six months.”

”For six months.” He leaned closer. ”But by the end of those six months, you won’t want to leave. I promise you that.”

The SUV pulled up to her building before she could respond.

****

POV: EVE

Her apartment looked smaller than she remembered.

One bedroom, one bath, a living space that doubled as a kitchen. Tastefully decorated but nothing special. The place she’d kept as her escape, her backup plan, her safety net.

It felt like a stranger’s home now.

Dimitri walked through it like he owned it, Marco silent and watchful by the door.

”Pack what you need,” Dimitri said. ”Clothes, personal items, anything that matters to you. The furniture stays.”

”I’m not selling this place.”

”I didn’t ask you to. Keep it. Rent it out. Whatever you want. But you won’t be living here anymore.”

She wanted to argue. Wanted to fight.

But what was the point? She’d signed the contract. She’d agreed to live with him.

And some traitorous part of her was relieved she didn’t have to sleep here alone anymore.

She went to the bedroom, pulled a suitcase from the closet, and started packing. Clothes. Shoes. Her laptop. Photos of her and Mike as kids—

The front door burst open.

”EVE!”

Simon.

Her blood turned to ice.

She heard Dimitri’s voice, calm and deadly: ”You need to leave. Now.”

”Fuck you. That’s my wife. EVE! Get out here!”

She moved to the bedroom door, saw Simon in the living room....disheveled, wild-eyed, clearly drunk even though it was barely noon.

And Dimitri standing between them like a wall of controlled violence.

”She’s not your wife,” Dimitri said quietly. ”Not anymore. The divorce papers will be served to you this afternoon. Sign them.”

”I’m not signing shit!” Simon lunged past him, trying to get to Eve.