”Go home,” he said again, his tone curt, before turning and walking out of the mall.
Laura could do nothing but watch him go; she knew no one could change his mind once he made a decision, and this time, he was in no mood to listen.
She turned and went back inside the mall.
She was going to shop more with the card he had given her, and then she would go to see Luciano’s mother.
She had to deliver the shocking news that Rosa was back, so they could plan together how to keep her away from Luciano…
again.
Meanwhile, Luciano reached his car.
It waited in the driveway, engine running, bodyguards flanking him.
One of them had already signaled the driver, and the vehicle was ready to move.
After everything had settled, Rosa stepped out of the store.
Winter was creeping in early; the sky was dimming faster than usual.
She reached into her purse for money for a cab—but it wasn’t there.
With a resigned sigh, she decided to walk to the hospital.
As she rounded the corner, lost in thought, a car suddenly stopped near her, startling her.
Before she could react, the door swung open violently.
The car stopped beside her, and she startled when the door was suddenly flung open.
Her instincts kicked in, and before she could run, a deep voice rumbled, “Get in.”
Rosa blinked, glancing at the open door and then at him.
He had removed his coat, loosened his tie, and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows.
A half-burnt cigarette was clenched between his fingers, smoke filling the car as he took a slow drag and exhaled, watching her.
She didn’t even bother to answer.
She turned and started walking again.
His jaw clenched.
Luciano Mancini was not used to defiance.
The engine started at once, the car rolling forward before stopping beside her again.
“I said get in,” he growled.
“Or I’ll make you.”
The warning in his voice sent a shiver down Rosa’s spine.
She knew better than to anger the mafia king.
With a quiet sigh, she stepped inside and shut the door, keeping as much distance between them as the seat allowed.
She didn’t look at him even once.
The cigarette smoke made her feel suffocated.
She coughed softly and tried to open the window on her side, but it was locked.
Letting out a breath of frustration, she waved her hand in front of her face, trying to clear the air so she could breathe.
How much does he smoke?
she cursed silently.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Luciano stub the cigarette out in the ashtray built into the door panel.
And then, the partition slid up between the driver and the back seat.
The faint click of the locks echoed in the car.
Panic rushed through her.
She turned toward Luciano, but before she could speak, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms, crashing his lips against hers.
The shock only fueled the fury she had been swallowing since yesterday—since the moment he had crushed her chance of getting the charity board to fund her son’s treatment.
Rosa shoved him hard and, before she could stop herself, her palm connected with his cheek in a sharp slap.
The sound rang through the car.
Her chest heaved as she glared at him, eyes blazing.
“Don’t you dare touch me again.”
He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, glaring at her.
Only then did Rosa realize what a terrible mistake she had made by slapping the Italian Don.
She flinched and ducked when he suddenly lunged at her.
She was sure he was going to hit her.
But instead, his hand shot to the back of her neck, gripping her nape as he pulled her face to his and crushed his mouth against hers.
The kiss stole her breath, and shock froze her in place.
She had expected rage.
Punishment.
Pain.
Instead, he kissed her with fierce hunger—possessive, demanding, but not cruel.
His teeth grazed her lower lip, biting and tugging before releasing it, not hard enough to cause pain.
But Rosa didn’t want it.
She didn’t want him.
Disgust churned in her stomach, and hatred burned in her chest—the strongest emotion she felt for him after he had rejected her son’s treatment fund.
She pushed against him again, harder this time.
But he didn’t let her go.
She struggled, trying to break free, yet she couldn’t move him even an inch.
Finally, he released her.
“You… you can’t do this.
Can’t keep me here,” she snapped, anger flashing in her eyes as she reached for the car handle.
The door was locked.
“Just open the door and let me out!”
Without looking at him, she kept tugging at the handle, her fingers slipping in desperation, not caring if she broke the lock.
Then her phone chimed with a notification.
Before she could check it, a deep, husky voice brushed against her ear.