He Chose the Mafia Princess, So I Chose Her Father Chapter 04
Vince never finished explaining.
Corrado dragged him away from me by the collar and drove him face–first into the metal shelf.
One strike.
Controlled. Efficient.
Vince dropped to his knees with blood pouring from his nose.
Corrado caught his right hand and bent the smallest finger backward.
“Which hand?” he asked me.
“What?”
“Which hand did he put on you first?”
Vince began begging.
I should have enjoyed it.
Instead, I saw my mother’s hospital room and another
night I could not afford to lose.
“Stop.”
Corrado looked at me.
“If you kill my manager, I probably don’t get paid.”
Something close to amusement moved through his eyes.
He released Vince.
“You’re fired,” he said. “Payroll will send Miss Ward every dollar you owe her. If you enter another Carbone property, the fingers become the smaller problem.”
Vince stumbled out between two guards.
I folded my arms over my chest.
“You own this place.”
“I own the hotel.‘
“Of course you do.”
“Why are you working here?”
“Because hospitals don’t accept wounded pride as payment.”
His jaw tightened.
“Your mother?”
I hated that Roman must have told Arianna enough for Corrado to know I had one.
“Cancer.”
He went still.
“How much?”
“No.”
“I didn’t offer anything yet.”
“You were about to.”
I walked past him.
Rain hit the hotel windows hard enough to sound like thrown gravel. My phone was dead, my cheap coat had
vanished from the staff room, and the last bus had already left.
I stepped into the storm anyway.
A black sedan rolled beside me before I reached the corner.
The rear window lowered two inches.
“Get in,” Corrado said.
“I thought we were forgetting each other.”
“I tried.”
The window rose.
The door opened from inside.
That answer did what the rain could not. It went
straight through me.
I climbed into the back seat.
The inside smelled like leather, cedar, and him. A privacy screen separated us from the driver. The
windows were almost black.
Corrado sat opposite me with one arm stretched along the seat.
His gaze moved over my wet blouse.
The white fabric had become nearly transparent.
“Stop looking.”
“Then stop showing me.”
“I didn’t schedule the rain.‘
“You did walk into it to prove a point.”
“The point was that I don’t need you.”
“And how is that going?”
I hated him a little for asking.
I hated myself more for staring at his mouth.
“You told me the night meant nothing.”
“I told you to forget it.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
His answer was too fast.
I leaned forward.
“Then what did it mean?”
Corrado caught one drop of rain at the corner of my
mouth with his thumb.
“Trouble.”
I bit the pad of his thumb.
His eyes darkened.
“Tessa.”
“You say my name like a threat.”
“Because you don’t listen when I use a normal voice.”
I grabbed his tie and pulled myself across the space between us.
My knees settled on either side of his thighs.
“Maybe I don’t want to listen.”
His hands closed around my hips.
“My daughter is marrying the man you were sleeping with.”
“He was my boyfriend before he was her fiancé.”
“That doesn’t make this less dangerous.”
“Does dangerous bother you?”
“No.”
He kissed me.
Hard.
My wet blouse stuck between us. Corrado tore the
buttons open and dragged one cup of my bra down. His mouth closed over my nipple.
I arched against him, biting back a cry.
His hand slid beneath my skirt.
“No panties,” he murmured.
“They were soaked.”
“Convenient.”
Two fingers moved inside me before I could answer.
The car turned onto Lake Shore Drive. Chicago lights smeared across the black windows while I rode his
hand, one fist buried in his hair.
“Look outside,” he said.
“They can’t see us.”
“I know.”
The thought made me wetter.
Rain raced down the glass inches from my face. On the
other side, cars passed. Inside, Corrado worked me open with slow, punishing precision.
I came against his hand with my forehead pressed to the window.
Before my breathing settled, the car stopped.
Someone knocked on the glass.
Corrado looked toward the sound.
I recognized the voice outside.
“Corrado, sir? It’s Roman Bellini.”
Of course it was.
The universe had finally developed a sense of humor.
Corrado pulled his suit jacket over my head and pushed
me lower against his chest.
“Stay still.”
Roman knocked again.
“I saw the Carbone plates. I wanted to speak with you about the engagement dinner.”
Corrado lowered the window a few inches.
Cold rain–scented air entered the car,
“This isn’t a good time,” he said..
I could hear Roman trying to laugh.
“I understand. Arianna said you appreciate men who
know how to enjoy themselves.”
Men.
As if I were an unnamed service being provided to the great Corrado Carbone.
Anger burned away the last of my caution.
I slid from Corrado’s lap to the floor between his knees.
His hand tightened beneath the jacket.
I opened his belt.
“Tessa,” he warned so quietly only I could hear.
I freed him from his trousers and wrapped my mouth around him.
His entire body locked.
Outside, Roman kept talking about loyalty, shipping contracts, and the future of both families.
I took Corrado deeper.
His fingers threaded through my hair under the jacket. His breathing changed, but his voice remained almost
steady.
“Send the final guest list to my office,” he told Roman.
I ran my tongue slowly beneath the head.
Corrado’s next word broke in the middle.
Roman paused.
“Are you all right, sir?”
Corrado looked down through the darkness of the jacket.
I smiled around him.
“Perfectly,” he said.
Then he ended the conversation.
Roman bowed to the man whose cock was in my mouth.
He walked away without knowing I was there.