Her breath hitched.
“I want to know what your favorite color is. Which movie made you cry. Which one made you laugh. I want to know what your comfort food is and," I leaned in, "I want to know the taste of your lips."
But most of all, I wanted to know if she would stay.Forever.
When Gio told me her name earlier, I’d almost thrown the glass I was holding because he got to hear it before me. My own reaction should have terrified me, but it didn't. Instead of fighting these feelings that were coming out of nowhere, I let them be, let them fester, because if there's one thing I was done with, it was fighting against what I wanted.
My father used to say that the moment he saw my mother, he knew. Knew she would be his wife. He knew, deep inside, that this was the woman he would love his entire life, and it definitely helped that she wanted him as well. He doted on her, cherished her. While other mafiosi ignored their wives, my father ran home just to be with her, even if it was for only a couple of hours.
I wanted that.
Someone who would understand. Who would love me even when the blood soaked my hands and when the world became too big of a burden to carry.
I never thought I’d find it.
Until I saw her sitting across from that spineless piece of shit.
Ajla cleared her throat, stepping away from me slowly.I didn't miss the tremble in her hands. The way her pupils dilated. The quickenedbreaths. I didn't miss the way she held onto my hand as if she too needed an anchor.
God knew I was an anchor-less beast.
I was bound by duty wrapped through my bones like a razor wire I could never remove.But I wanted more. I wanted a reason to wake up that wasn’t fueled by revenge.
I wanted her.
And God, I fucking hoped she’d want me too.
"Look," she said, taking another step back and finally letting go of me, leaving me with the harsh cold I wanted to shake off. "You seem like a great guy. Well," she laughed, the sound echoing around us, "as great as you can be after kidnapping me, but I don't think I'm the woman for you."
"And why not?"
"Well, first of all." She took another step away from me, and I couldn't fucking stand it. "You're too young for me."
"I'm too young?" I stood, towering over her now, and I didn't miss the fact that she tried focusing too fucking hard on my face. So the kitten definitely liked what she saw.
"Y-Yes," she said, pressing against the wall right next to the shower. "You're six years younger than me, and I mean… what would people think?"
"People?" I chuckled. "Tell me, Ajla, do youoften live your life based on what other people think"
I closed the distance between us, placing myself right in front of her, caging her against the wall. "Because I don't. I couldn't give a fuck what those sheep think of me. hey don’t wake up with my regrets. They're not living my life—I am. So I don't think about them."
Her head tilted back as she looked up at me, biting her bottom lip, slowly driving me insane.
"What else?" I grunted, barely holding myself back.
"You, uh... You're in the mafia."
"And?"
Even her frown was cute. "And it's a bit of a problem,dušo."
Fuck. Me. Every time she spoke her language something stirred inside me, and I wanted more.
"Tell me what that word means."
"No."
"Tell," I pushed my leg between hers. "Me."