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Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(35)



She angrily mashes the radio’s power button with her thumb then twists in her seat to glare at me.

“Just what the hell do you think you're doing?”

“I'm taking you back for a refund.”

Her eyes flash at me. “Excuse me?”

“Listen, why don’t you just sit back and be quiet for a while, eh? I don't need to be explaining every move I make to —”

“— you better get used to it,” she interrupts. Her cheeks are flushed and her nostrils flare with every breath. Looks like I just made my stuffed animal angry at me.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah... Just listen to the music why don't you?”

I reach out to turn the radio back on and she slaps back of my hand. Seriously. She slaps my hand.

“You really shouldn’t get in the habit of hitting a guy like me.”

“What, you're gonna threaten me? Are you kidding?”

"I don't need to make threats. I'm just explaining a couple things you don't seem to understand.”

“Oh, you're explaining things to me?”

“Yes, I'm explaining, because apparently nobody ever taught you any manners. Nobody ever taught you anything about the real world. You’ve just been hiding in your castle your entire life and missed out on a few important details, Princess.”

"Well, thank you very much,” she sneers. “Didn't you just get here, Roman? I think that there's probably a thing or two about Chicago that you don't know. Did you ever think of that?”

I don’t say anything, because maybe she's got a point. Not a very good point, but a point nonetheless.

“All right, tell me.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me what I don't know.”

“Why should I tell you anything?”

I cut my eyes toward her. She's got her arms folded and her chest is just heaving. She’s so cute I want to pat her on top of her head.

“Fine. I thought you were offering. I’ll just ask your father when we get there.”

“My father… You know what, you’re a jerk.”

“I'm way worse than that, Princess.”

She turns back around in her seat with a huff. Her fingertips drum on her sleeves and she chews her bottom lip between her teeth.

I take the ramp to I-94 and consider turning the radio on again, but don't bother. We’re only about fifteen minutes away anyway. Surely I can stand to listen to her making angry hamster noises over there for another fifteen minutes.

“How did you know where to find me anyway?”

"Oh you're speaking me now?”

“Roman, try to stop being an ass for just one moment. How did you find me?”

I shrug. “Because you took the L.”

She sucks at her teeth. “Okay? I took the L, so what?”

“You took the L because you didn't think anybody would follow you on the L. You took the L so your Daddy couldn't find you. So there were only a couple of places you can go on the L right? I mean… Jesus, you think you’re some kind of genius don't you?”

“Smarter than you,” she sulks.

“Apparently not, love,” I inform her. “And I'm not the only one who found you either, am I?”

She scowls out the window with her eyebrows knitted together and her jaw working back and forth as this all sinks in. Finally, a little peace and quiet. Let her stew for a few minutes.

I stop the Jeep in front of the cigar club, get out, walk around, and yank her door open for her. She blinks against the hard sunlight coming down between the buildings.

“Why are we here? Why didn’t you just take me home?”

“Just keep your mouth shut, Princess. Can you do that for me?”

She opens her lips again to say something, and I hold up two fingers and step closer to her. She smells good actually. Really good. Fruity or something. And the way that her eyes flash at me makes me want to jerk her chain a little bit more. Feisty, like Alek said.

“I'm not kidding, Marie. I don’t want to hear another word out of you. You got that?”

She starts to twist away and then just slumps and nods her head. That's a good girl. At least her father taught her one thing.

I take her hand in mine, and it's so small it fits neatly inside my palm. It's like holding a doll’s hand. We walk into the cigar club and straight back past the counter to where that smoke smell is coming from. I open the door and it swings inward. Stosh and Don Lauro each jerk back with surprise.

“Don't you knock?” Stosh growls.

“Marie!” the Don exclaims, leaping to his feet. He rushes forward with his arms out and takes her in a bearhug before dropping her and looking her up and down. “What did you do? Where did you go? Can you believe how worried I was? Why didn't you take somebody with you?”