MY Possessive Mafia Men

pay for her glamorous lifestyle. They both leftto fend for myself, | am just grateful | had my grandparents."

He lifted his wine glass and took a long sip. He hadn't looked atsince he started telling his story, all the

while, I had silently urged him to.

Dov

you remember when Marshall mentioned | helped that restaurant owner start his own business?" He asked,

shockingwith the change of the direction of this conversation. Finally, his eyes connected with mine and my

breath caught. They held a weight that seemed impossible to bear, | nodded my head in response.

"You see, sometin his elderly days, my father suddenly reached out. I didn't know what

it.!

changed his mind but he wanted to get to know me. | was already seventeen years old at that tand had just

started college. He thought he could buy his way into my life with money but | didn't want it. So instead, | put it

aside and later gave it to someone who needed "You gave it to Noah, the owner of the restaurant?" | asked.

"Yes, | did that." He nodded.

"But did this yacht cinto the picture?

My father kept trying to get in my good grace, | was spiteful, though. So he was out of luck. | had survived

seventeen years without him and | wouldn't allow him to cwaltzing in as if he had. the right to do so. For

years, he kept trying and for years | shut him out. | wouldn't give him a second chance, | didn't know he had

writteninto his will after he died and his lawyer

contacted me. Along with one-fourth of his money, | got this boat. He had also written a note, tellingall

things | never let him and it was about how much he regretted putting his image over his son. About him and my

mother, and what he felt for her even years later. He said he regretted letting us both go and he named this boat

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Chapter 122: Your Fingers Are Magic

"Aurelia?" | asked, remembering the nwritten on the side of the boat.

nodded.

"Why didn't you." | trailed off, not knowing how to ask the question.

"Why didn't | renit?" He guessed and | nodded.

"Because.... It remindsthat when | do fall in love, | will treat her with all the care | have and never let her go.

It remindsto never make the smistake

my father did "

The look he gaveladen with meaning and it made my heart stutter in its cage.

The mood was somber after he had toldabout his childhood, | didn't know what to say, so |

didn't say anything at all. Instead, | left my chair and crawled up on his lap, resting my cheek against his chest. |

hooked my arms around him and gavea hug. | didn't know which of us needed it the most but my heart

broke at his story and | could tell he didn't like to revisit that part of his life. He had been tense and angry when

he talked about his parents and all | wanted to do was comfort him. He let out a breath as he relaxed under my

touch and huggedback, his head I fell into the crook of my neck.

The sound of something being placed on the table madewithdraw from his embrace just enough to see that

the sman had put down a plate of chocolate cake. It was a huge piece, more than enough for the both of us.

"Thank you," | said to the retracting man and he stopped only for a second to givea nod before moving away

and giving us space.

| didn't make a move to get off his lap, and he didn't letgo either. We sat like this in silence for a couple of

minutes before the scent of chocolate becirresistible. He shifted my post on his lap with little effort so my

back was to his front. One of his hands rested on my thigh while the other reached for one of the teaspoons and

filled it with cake. "Open your mouth, honey." He said as he held the spoon to my

mouth.

I didn't object, I hummed as the creamy chocolate goodness hit my taste buds. He continued feedingand

himself, taking turns on who would get the spoon of cake. There was intimacy in letting him feedand | think

both of us took pleasure in it. He was back to his relaxed self as if the conversation about his parents never

happened. When the plate was empty, we walked back inside to the warm living room. As | sat down on the

couch, he went to the speakers and hooked it to his phone. The sound of cool and romantic music filled the

room. | was surprised when! walked up to me, offeringone of his hands.

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"What are you doing?" | asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Angelia, will you givethe pleasure of dancing with you?" He smiled warmly down at me.

It was rare when either one of them used my nbut when they did, it made my heart thump loudly in my

chest. Hesitantly, | accepted his hand and he helpedto the couch.

"I have never done this before." 1 admitted with a blush.

When would | ever have had the chance to dance with someone when | had never been on a date

before. Sure, | went to prom in high school with sfriends but I stayed far away from the

dance

floor,

1001.

"You will be fine, just relax and letlead." He said it against my ear.

His lips tickled my skin and | shivered in his arms and he guided my hands around his neck while he placed his

around my waist, holdingtightly against him.

"See, this isn't so hard."

He said as we started moving gently to the slow music.

He was right, as long as | relaxed and let him lead, it wasn't a problem. | didn't even step on his feet which | was

oddly proud of.

"You are right." | whispered.

‘Nothing is ever hard | when | am with you." | added.

Resting my head on his chest, we danced through the song. Feeling of joy and affection filledas we moved in

sync, my body instinctively followed him. When the third song was over, he grabbed my chin and angled my lips

to his own, kissingsweetly. | melted against him and a soft sigh escapedas we withdrew from each other.

Thank you, Riccardo." | said softly.

"What for?" He asked.

"For everything, for this night. It has been perfect."

"This evening isn't over yet." He smiled.

sit down and | will go get us swine." He gaveone last kiss before moving away from me.

Taking a seat on the couch, | took the heels off and groaned. While | could wear heels without breaking my

ankles, they were far from comfortable.

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Chapter 122: Your Fingers Are Magic

and

Because it remindsto never make the smistake my father did.' Riccardo's words echoed in my mind

when | got a second to myself. He joinedpromptly with two wine in his hands. | took a few sips before laying

down with my head on his lap, making myself comfortable. The one and a half glass | have had this night left me

feeling warm and cozy. The captain had steered the boat back to the harbor left with the chef while we stayed

put. "What are you thinking about?" He asked, his hand automatically started stroking my hair.

If he had made my plan for this part of the evening, he didn't seem in a hurry to get them, which was fine by me.

| enjoyed simply being in his company. "The conversation we had earlier." | responded honestly.

"Which part of it?" He stopped playing with my hair but started again a few seconds later.

"Every part but mostly the one above you not making the smistake as your father."

1 could still

| cou

still feel the look he had givenwhen he had toldthat, it was like he had been tellingsomething more

with his eyes when he said that.

"Umm, what about it?"

"...l don't know. It just stuck with me, | guess." My words ended in a yawn and he chuckled.

"Tired, are we?"

"It is your fault." | accused him.

f not for your magical fingers, | would have been wide awake right now." The way he was stroking my hair was so

damn good and so relaxing, | couldn't help how my eyes grew heavy.

"Oh, my bunny. | am well aware of how fantastic my fingers are. In fact you are well acquainted with them." He

smirked smugly.

"Or do you need a reminder of just how magical they are in other places?"

And just like that, the atmosphere in the room changed, the relaxation in my body shifted to something else,

something more intense.