Trapped with the Mob Boss - A Mafia Romance

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s that sell. The ones the public likes to see. Regular people enjoy feeling like the upper class is far beyond their reach. As though we're another spec

them lurking behind me like muscular shadows is unusual, although I'm not complaining. I like feeling like a normal person. A person who hasn't been on the cover of magazines and newspapers since she was a

's never goi

n from a distance, I can tell he's handsome. Devastatingly so. Toned body visible even under a hoodie, wide shoulders, wellgroomed stubble covering a strong jaw. I'm co

bout pounding women and licking private parts bl

a frustrated mothe

w ringer? I set it last night. F

to encourage this behavior. The last time she called I was with my grandma, an

ou're alone

r wh

d she had to spend there with the wealthy and privileged, but as a young single woman, I wouldn't be surprised to hear she sleeps on t

ighs, everywher

ead. "No, thank you. I prefer my men co

t go of that particular preference,

boy?" I ask. "Also, yo

The men are all out on the course, and I need someone to drink w

idewalk and leaning against a concrete planter box. As a well-groomed female in a dress and heels, I'll get

u were alone

plans, but I'll let you kno

o into the Clip 'N Trim. From what little I saw of him, there was no way he was only paying

ombed over to ensure they have no seedy connections, nothing lurking in their closets that could become a problem for my father's reelection. In high school, I couldn't go to prom with Isaac Daines because he helped use grass

inks in shadowy corners, and leaving in separate cars. But as soon as things are out in the open, the press picks up the story and the fledgling rel

so I try not to blame him. But it's hard when Ivy can serial

class without a tabloid running a background check on him and speculating th

everything to join you

ecause you'd probably already b

ll call you in a bit, okay? Try to control yourself. You'll be really

ly considering it. "Alright, well, call me ba

gtone later, and smooth my hands down the front of my dress. It's knee-length, like Father politely requests,