ROM
“The shocking revelation has put Carlos Morales’s entire campaign at risk,” said the news anchor on the TV. “The audio recording was apparently made by his own daughter, Mia Morales. We’ve not been able to reach Mia for comment. It’s unclear what prompted her to expose this evidence of wrongdoing by her father, but it’s safe to say New York City constituents are grateful she bravely revealed the truth. The FBI and NYPD have launched investigations and will be auditing Morales’s campaign finances.”
The camera cut to a second anchor. “With the election only a few days away, it’s hard to imagine how Morales can recover from this blow. He campaigned on his tough stance against organized crime, which makes this revelation—that he accepted funds from an organized crime family—particularly hypocritical.”
I sank back in my chair and dragged my thumb across my bottom lip. It worked.
The day after Mia gave me the recording, I played it for Cosimo. Within the hour, we’d emailed a copy to every major news outlet we could think of. We knew they’d fall over themselves to be the first to report on it. This was a juicy story that would get them views.
Now, three days later, we were having a watch party in one of the meeting rooms at Black Silk. This was the third station saying more or less the same thing.
The main takeaway? Morales was fucked.
Mia sat at the far end of the table, her hands folded in front of her. I studied her expression, looking for any sign of discomfort and found none.
Cos muted the TV and leaned forward, his gaze sliding over the capos seated around the table.
“With Morales neutralized, our full focus shifts to the Santoros,” he said. “Prepare for long nights ahead. Anyone has a problem with that, come talk to me.”
Silence.
“All right, show’s over,” I barked. “Everyone out. I’ve got work to do.”
The capos filed out. At the far end of the table, Mia rose to her feet.
“We owe you a debt,” Cos said to Mia as the door closed behind the last capo. “From this point forward, you’re under the family’s protection.”
Mia’s expression didn’t shift. “I think Rom’s got that covered,” she said.
Damn right, I did.
“But how about you promise not to hurt my best friend?”
Cos frowned. The wedding with Fabiana had been moved up to next month. No more delays. The alliance with the Messeros mattered now more than ever.
He was doing what a good don did—putting the family first. I just hoped, for his sake, that his good intentions held after the vows were exchanged.
If not, he’d upset the woman I loved. And that wouldn’t fucking fly.
“I won’t,” he said, jaw tight.
Mia held his gaze for a beat, weighing him. Then she nodded.
“All right. Nice little heart-to-heart,” I said. I was eager to be alone with Mia. We haven’t spent more than an hour apart since I got her away from Morales, but I still couldn’t get enough. “Goodbye, Cos.”
My brother shot me a glare but headed for the door.
Mia moved to follow.
“Not you, Mia,” I called out.
She glanced at me. “I thought you had to work—” She registered the hungry expression on my face. “Oh.”
I caught the sound of Cos’s knowing chuckle. “Should I close the door?”
“Obviously,” I barked.
The second he was gone, I crooked my finger at Mia. “Come here, Berry. Why the hell did you sit all the way over there?”
She blushed as she walked toward me. “I wasn’t sure if I even belonged here today.”
I grabbed her hand and pulled her onto my lap. “You don’t belong there, but you do right here.” I nuzzled my nose against her neck and stole a kiss. “Give me an hour and I’ll be done.” We had dinner plans at a hot new spot in town she’d been wanting to try. “Did you bring your laptop?”
Mia nodded. She’d agreed to work from my place this week, but she was itching to get back to her studio next week. I’d said yes, because I was powerless to deny her anything—though I’d made one thing crystal clear: she wasn’t going anywhere without her four bodyguards.
“Actually,” she said, playing with the collar of my shirt, “I wanted to stop by my apartment before dinner.”
My hand tightened on her hip. “Why?”
She sighed. “This dress is the only thing I have at your place. I can’t keep taking client Zoom calls in your T-shirts, Rom. I’ve been telling everyone I’m going through a grunge phase. That excuse is going to wear thin fast.”
“I like you in my T-shirts.” I bit lightly on her shoulder.
“I know,” she said with a laugh. “But I think you like me even more out of them.”
“Fair.”
“Either option isn’t exactly professional attire. I need to grab some things.”
“I’ll buy you a new wardrobe.” I should have thought of that by now, but I really did like her in my shirts.
She gasped, scandalized. “Rom, my closet is carefully curated. I’ve spent years hunting down some of those rare vintage pieces. And you know, it’s quite a bad practice to buy all your clothes in one go. It’s much better to add to your collection slowly, with intention. So that every piece makes sense and fits with your style.”
I grinned. God, she was adorable. “Forgive me for that offensive suggestion. What was I thinking?”
She swatted at me. “I need to go home.”
“Then we’ll go together and pack everything up.”
“I was only going to grab a little.”
“Nah. Take it all.”
Her eyes searched mine. “Are you asking me to move in?”
“I’ve gotten used to waking up with you beside me. I can’t go back to not.” My hand slipped under the skirt of her dress, fingertips tracing along her inner thigh.
A smile tugged on her pretty little mouth. “So needy.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Berry,” I groaned, lifting her from my lap and settling her on the edge of the desk. I anchored my palms on either side of her hips and hovered close. “Don’t torture me. What do you want? You want me begging on my knees?”
She bit on her lip, eyes dancing, and shrugged. “Maybe.”
I sighed. “Fine. For you, I’ll get on my knees and beg.”
And then I sank to the floor, slid off her panties, and devoured her. Her moans filled the room. I could live a thousand lives and never get enough of this.
Afterward, her fingers tangled in my hair as she caught her breath. I rested my head against her bare thigh, enjoying her warmth, her scent.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Warmth spread through my chest. Every time she said those words, it made me want to howl.
I stood, kissed her deeply, and murmured against her mouth, “So… is that a yes?”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and smiled up at me. “It’s a hell yes.”
God, I fucking loved this woman.
Mia was my peace in the chaos. My compass. My fucking redemption.
And every single part of me belonged to her.
