Fuck it.
I press the button and the message pops up.
Italian_Stallion69: Meet me for a drink?
This guy doesn’t waste any time. I like that.
Me: Where?
Italian_Stallion69: You pick. I’m not from here.
Oh, a tourist. Even better. Then there’s no chance we’ll meet up awkwardly a few months from now. And luckily, there’s the perfect bar down the block from here.
The elevator doors glide open, and I find my driver parked out front. He opens the door, but I wave him off. “I’m not going home yet, Nicky. I’ll text you when I’m ready.”
“Yes, Miss Valentino.” He dips his head and slides back into the front seat of the Audi SUV.
I don’t know what I’d do if my father was as crazy as Uncle Luca who always forces an entire security team on Bella. I would lose my shit to have someone following me every second of the day.
With a quick wave at Nicky, I continue down Fifth Avenue toward the Pierre Hotel. It’s sophisticated and luxurious, the perfect spot to wow a tourist, plus if things don’t work out with the Italian Stallion, I won’t have to worry about getting harassed by dirtbags.
The grand façade of the elegant building is just ahead, and I pick up the pace, an odd stillness across Fifth Avenue. Most of the stores are closed at this hour, the sidewalks barren. A limo pulls up alongside me, likely going to The Pierre or the St. Regis Hotel nearby. It slows, and the hair on the back of my neck rises.
The black stretch limousine stops just a few yards in front of me, and the back door whips open. I can just make out the distinctive gilded canopy of The Pierre next block. I almost make a run for it, but he’s too fast. A man leaps out of the car, reaching for me. My heart catapults up my throat as an arm curls around me. I wiggle and squirm and kick, but the steel band around my torso only tightens, squeezing the air from my lungs.
“Let go of me!” I scream as I try to slide my purse from under my arm into my hand. Not only do I have my phone in there but also my gun. The asshole wrenches my clutch from my fingertips, and I hiss out a curse.
He tosses me into the backseat of the limo before I can shriek out another string of expletives. Another man sits on the far seatwearing a black hoodie, smoldering velvety eyes locked on me. He’s completely still, jaw locked in a hard line.
“Do you have any idea who I am?” I shout as the guy who just nabbed me dives into the car. “When my father finds out I’m gone he’s going to paint the city in your blood,” I hiss.
The man in the back slides to the edge of the seat and pushes back the dark hood. The overhead light reveals the harsh contours of his savagely handsome face. “Do you have any idea whoIam,tesoro?”
My stomach drops, a tight knot twisting my insides. “Fuck,” I grit out.
Antonio Ferrara.
Get ready for Serena’s story in Savage Prince, coming in April! Can’t wait till then to find out what happens? Join my Patreon and follow along as I write the next story, chapter by chapter!
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Love is gentle, love is kind, but my love kills.
Sold to the mob.
Four words I never thought I'd utter.
Worse, it was my father who did the unthinkable.
When the creditors come to collect, I'm handed over to the most ruthless man in New York City--Luca Valentino.
The head of the notorious Kings is as gorgeous as he is lethal. Dark, possessive, and violent. Nothing like the boy I grew up with, my dead brother's best friend.
And now I'm his…
The longer I spend in this gilded cage, the more certain I become he will ruin me for anyone else.
