His (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)(49)

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”

I smirk. “You will be soon. I have good news.”

“Good news?”

“Yeah. The family that was targeting me and you? We crippled them last night. The less you know the better, but it’s under control. For now. So I can take you out somewhere. We can even stop by your place and sort whatever shit you need to sort out.”

Her eyes well with tears. “Really?”

I laugh a little. “Yeah. C’mon. I’ll take you shopping to get some new clothes. Anything you want, on my card.”





24





Aubriella





Vince helps me from his car on 5th Avenue. I can’t help ogling the stores. The streets are swarming with people and he pulls me protectively to his side and wraps his arm around me. Before we step away from the car, he reaches in and squeezes some suntan lotion on his hands and spreads it over my exposed neck and face. I scrunch my face at him, giving him a perplexed look.

“Your skin is perfect. You don’t want to ruin it in the sun.”

I let him smooth out the uneven patches of sunscreen, quietly enjoying being fussed over by him. The moment makes my mind wander to Dad and to Aria. I feel like such a shitty person right now for not asking him for a phone the moment he and I were on good terms again to try letting her know I was okay. I sensed the question might be a dangerous one. It might make him start to worry that I was trying to call for help or betray him, so I selfishly kept my mouth shut. Now I feel even worse because it all feels so good. It feels good to have his arms around me and to be with someone so strong. It feels good to know he cared enough about me to be okay with me telling him I wasn’t ready yet. He has shown such a caring and compassionate side to his personality that I’m finding it harder and harder to really fear him, even if I still see hints of a dark anger behind his eyes at times.

I resolve to enjoy this moment. It’s a moment I can’t even say I’ve dreamed of, because even my dreams weren’t so optimistic. I’m on 5th Avenue, the most expensive street in New York, and home to some of the most expensive stores in the world, and he is giving me free reign. My first impulse is not to take advantage of his kindness. I steer us toward a Macy’s because I know I could probably find some good deals there, but on our way, we pass a store called Akris. I’ve never heard of it, but the mannequins in the window are wearing some of the most amazing clothes I’ve ever seen. They are trendy, light, flattering, and eye-catching all at the same time. They look expensive though, so I pull my gaze away and keep walking, but a strong hand takes my arm. I look back to see Vince, who nods his head toward the store.

“Did you like what you saw? Let’s go inside.”

“I can’t. It’s too much. There aren’t even price tags on anything in there.”

He takes my shoulders and meets my eye. “Aubriella. You will buy anything you want, and you will not think twice about it because you think it’s too expensive. Do you understand?”

I can’t help smiling a little. It all feels too good to be true. “You’re really sure?”

“Do I look like I’m fucking around?” he asks.

I purse my lips playfully and eye him up and down, taking in all of the fine details: the perfectly fitting jeans, the way his muscles press against his white t-shirt, his powerful neck, and the irresistible way his hair always looks tousled but somehow neat at the same time. Almost every woman who passes us does a double take when they see him, some even turning around to gawk or nudging their friends to point him out. He’s that gorgeous. And he’s mine. I feel light-headed.

I pick out three outfits in the store: one is a mostly white combination of an airy blouse, a half-jacket, and a flowing skirt that is unbelievably flattering on me. The other two are casual business clothes that look nice enough to wear on a day with friends or even in front of the camera. They are the most comfortable things I’ve ever worn, and I spent extra time in the fitting rooms gawking at how I looked in them. I’m used to seeing myself in second-hand, rundown clothing that saw its best day years ago. The woman staring back at me in the mirror looks beautiful, wealthy, and confident. It’s like looking at a stranger.

A slender wisp of a woman helped me find the right sizes and styles for my preferences, and she leads us to a counter when I’ve finished looking. She rings up the items and calmly says that the total is $4,703.27. My mouth hangs open and I take Vince’s forearm. “I’m sorry. I can find something more reasonable, that’s—”

Vince winks at me and then swipes his heavy black credit card like he’s paying for a pack of gum. He signs the receipt, takes my bag, and motions for me to follow him. I don’t know what to say for a while, so I just walk beside him in stunned silence, occasionally stealing glances at him to see if he’s actually mad, but just trying to hide it. He really looks like he doesn’t care.