It’s going to be more difficult than I expected to get Caterina to use my credit card to buy whatever she wants to make her happy.
Which is cute, don’t get me wrong, but also very inconvenient. I thought there was a benefit to being a billionaire, but it’s turning out to be more of a hindrance. If she’s not impressed by being given a credit card you could purchase a small country with, how am I supposed to persuade her to fall in love with a morally grey Bratva boss twice her age, who she is going to realise eventually, has kidnapped her?
Back to Stockholm syndrome, I suppose.
She approaches warily.
“Show me what you bought, moya koshechka.” I nod at the place next to me on the sofa, and she sits, careful that we don’t touch sides, and my heart twists.
Not in love with me yet, huh?
She picks up a parcel and opens it with infinite care. Not ripping the packaging but sliding her little forefinger along the seam. My mind immediately goes to whether she’d be so gentle with my cock, and if I could tempt her to be impatient and grabbing and take exactly what she wants.
From the first paper bag she draws a relaxed sweater in a marl grey, and I nod. Not the cashmere I was hoping her to indulge in, but fine. Then comes a pair of jeans, and a plain top, not unlike the one she’s wearing. From the second to last package falls a cascade of yellow fabric and my brows shoot up as she shakes it out and holds it up.
I blink, nonplussed. “What is it?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “A dress. Wasn’t that what you wanted?”
“That’s fashionable, I assume?” The material is silky, but the colour reminds me of one of those spring flowers in dainty floral arrays.
“Yes. No.” She scrunches her nose. “Maybe?”
“Do you like it?” I ask, because honestly it’s the only thing that matters.
“It’ll look super cute on!” she assures me.
“Show me, then.”
That stops her. Her gaze flicks up to my face to check if I’m serious. And yes, I am very serious about seeing Caterina in clothes she bought with my money. It might not be the signs of ownership I want her to have—a pregnant belly and a ring—but it’s a start.
“Okay,” she says shyly, and a wisp of dark hair falls over her cheek as she rises. My hands fist into the fabric of the sofa to prevent myself from tucking it back.
It’s long minutes of tortuous waiting as she goes to her bedroom to change, and then she creeps back in, barefoot and although she peeks at me from behind a curtain of her hair, she might as well be a freight train. It’s all I can do to keep breathing.
She’s correct. The dress looks stunning on her. I wasn’t convinced by that pale yellow, or the cut, but that just shows why I know nothing.
“See?” She swishes the skirt to and fro. “Cute, right?”
I nod mutely. Cute is not the word I’d use. That dress is enough to incite me to rail her in it, literally anywhere. It’s so sexy, for a man of forty-two it needs a health warning about the potential for causing a heart attack.
“There’s one more package,” I manage to say. Dying words. I’m well known for my murderous tendencies in the London Mafia Syndicate, but I’m nowhere near as lethal as Caterina in that dress.
She gives me an eyeful of her luscious small tits—totally by accident I think—as she bends over to pick up the last package. Standing before me, I subtly rearrange my erection so it’s less visible as she opens the bag and peeks inside.
Then she quickly closes it again. “This is just…”
“What?” My curiosity is piqued.
“Nothing.” Pink tinges her cheeks.
“Moya koshechka, there’s no need to be embarrassed.” It can’t be any worse than me, a man old enough to be her father, getting hard from seeing her in a dress. Not even an especially revealing one. “Show me what you needed.”
She whimpers with reluctance and pulls out a white lace bralette and a pair of matching knickers.
My mind fills in the image of her wearing them, and my cock throbs.
“I’ll send them back,” she stammers.
“Or buy more.”
Her gaze flies to mine, her mouth an “o” of surprise.
“I don’t need that.” She twists her hands together. “I won’t be here long. You said the other apartment would be ready soon. That’s more than enough generosity.”
“I was going to discuss that.” My mind flicks through reasons for her not to leave, considering the best way to play them.
This is like playing blackjack. Her apartment was a trump card, but now I need another, but I mustn’t overdo it. Being a mafia boss in London for over a decade has taught me the importance of tactics.
“Law enforcement haven’t got the men who came after you yet.” As I say that, irritation rises in me that I haven’t found the Italians responsible, and that Marco Brent, the only current London Mafia Syndicate member who is Italian, is being so bloody useless. The Blackstone kingpin has contacts though, and I’m hoping he’ll come through.
“I didn’t even think of the police!” she says in horror. “I should—”
“Don’t worry. I ensured the relevant authorities were apprised of the situation,” I say soothingly. The authority in Angel being me, that wasn’t very difficult. “There’s nothing you need to do except stay safe until the men are caught.”
“They’re mafia though…” She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “I don’t want them coming after you.”
“That’s not a concern for me.” And I can’t help the patronising tone that sneaks into my words. But since I’m keeping from her that I’m the kingpin of Angel for now, her safety isn’t the best reason for her to stay with me. “But your welfare is. This must be playing on your mind, and you mentioned your studying went better today?”
“Yes,” she agrees, but doubtfully.
“So you’ll remain here, and buy things for the next week.” It’s a statement of fact, not a suggestion.
“I don’t want to be excessive.” She shifts uncomfortably.
“You won’t be.” And I really wish she would. I’d be delighted. “What do you need?”
She shrugs. “Just the stuff from my apartment.”
“No. If they’ve put any tracking devices onto your possessions—they said they’d know if you contacted your parents, correct?—they could be monitoring you. Anything you need, I’ll buy.”
Anything she wants, I’ll give to her if she asks.
Stupid moral code, it has never appeared before. I should push her down on this sofa, hold her still, and take what I want.
“I have to study properly.” Her chin tilts up, resolute. “I have to do well in my exam, so I graduate from my degree. My parents think that’s important. So, I’ll need my laptop.”
“A new laptop then. Done.” That was easy. “What else?”
“Toiletries. Shampoo, that sort of stuff.”
“Yes. We’ll arrange that.”
“And a few more clothes?” she says tentatively. “It’s only a week, but…”
“Obviously.” If she thinks this is putting me off, she’s got another thing coming. I’m delighted by the opportunity to spoil the woman I’ve been wanting. “Anything more you’d like?”
“And…” She bites her lip, clearly thinking about something she imagines I won’t approve of.
“Go on.” My heart thuds.
Say that you want me to lick your pussy for my every meal and as a midnight snack, I beg her mentally. That would be a delicious treat for me, as well as very relaxing for her. Perfect sustenance. I stare into her brown eyes, attempting to transmit the thought.
Ask for oral sex.
She gulps, and licks her lips, and for a second I think I’ve cracked telepathy and she’s going to ask for another kiss.
“Books.”
Nope. I’ll try harder next time.
“I have some hardback editions of my favourite books. And I have an eReader.”
“Of course.” I remain impassive, and as we regard each other, I fight the urge to laugh, like we’re teenagers playing a game of chicken. “And paperbacks? Those too?”
Her mouth twists into a reluctant smile. “They’re kinda emotional support books.”
“Can’t survive without them.” I’m going to spoil her with all the emotional support books she can cope with. She’ll be so well supported she’ll have the foundations of a skyscraper and reach as high.
She smiles shyly.
“Any jewellery?” I enquire.
That she dismisses with a quick shake of her head.
Pity. I have a particular piece in mind. But she didn’t say I can’t buy her an outrageously expensive diamond ring.
It’s a simple plan: now I’ve saved her and got her with me, I will spoil her, take revenge against her enemies, and keep her.
Ideally, she’d fall in love with me too, and ask to stay. Otherwise, the day of her exam is going to be a disaster…
