I stared into narrowed green eyes. “What the fuck!” I yelled,ing fully awake as I flung the orange blob of fur across the bed. The shriek of an animal reached my ears while Sloane rushed into the room and gaped at us.


    Crouching sideways, Ginger’s ears ttened. She was howling and hissing threateningly like a creature needing an exorcism. This was no scaredy-cat and she wasn’t one who backed down.


    “That thing was on top of me.” I refused to move because I waspletely naked under the nket. What if she came after my balls?


    Sloane, meanwhile, erupted inughter and walked into the room and gently patted Ginger. “What’s got you caterwauling, Ginger? Was the big man mean to you?”


    “Cater-what?” I asked. “And I wasn’t mean to her. I just woke up.”


    “It’s a specialnguage of cats when they’re in heat or fighting.”


    “If that’s your way of discouraging us from having sex, it’s not going to work,” I warned, only half kidding. As much as the cat almost gave me a heart attack, my cock gave a hearty nod to Sloane’s attire of nurse scrubs. We spent two days fucking, eating, and drinking, but I was getting more drunk on her.


    At Sloane’s huskyugh, my cock rose.


    Her eyes fell on its outline and she shook her head. “I’mte.”


    Her body was a work of art. I considered myself an ass man, but there was so much of Sloane to explore. Sucking on her tits got me hard, but the thought of burying my mouth in her sweet cunt got me harder than a tire iron. And thrusting into her? I wished I hadn’t felt her bare because I could weep every time I had to use a condom, but I couldn’t risk getting her pregnant.


    Her heart-shaped face and her thickshed emerald-green eyes enthralled me. I always thought her lips were unusually pale, but it was one of her disguises. She deliberately covered her freckles and her defined cheekbones with makeup so she would appear t. Even at Bianca’s wedding, she was in the most shapeless dress with barely any makeup probably because many of the guests were in the mob.


    In her nurse’s uniform, Sloane’s face was once again a pale canvas. I knew what her face looked like when framed with her glorious red hair, but at the moment, it was twisted into a severe bun away from her features. To say I was intrigued with Sloane Scott was putting it mildly. She said we should keep our personal lives out of the arrangement, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to have a report on her by the end of the day.


    “How about breakfast?” I waggled my brows.


    “No. My pussy is still sore from the weekend.” She nudged the cat off the bed. “No snuggling today, kitty. You’ll get fur all over my scrubs.” She nced at me again and bit her bottom lip.


    Fuck. I was imagining them wrapped around my cock.


    “I have to go. There’s coffee. I always leave the window open a crack so Ginger cane and go as she pleases. All you have to do is turn the t lock on the knob when you leave.”


    “That’s not very secure.”


    “It’ll do for now.”


    “Or you can give me a key.”


    “We’re not at that stage yet.” She checked her phone and cursed. “Okay gotta go…I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”


    I jumped out of the bed to at least cop a feel of her ass, but Ginger ran in front of me and I nearly tripped over her.


    Damn cat.


    The door mmed.


    I’ll see you when I see you.


    That was my line. No-strings-attached arrangements were my forte but for some reason I didn’t like it when I wasn’t in control. Sloane’s aversion to rtionships was equal to mine. I might even say it was even more. I should consider myself lucky and roll with it.


    I red at Ginger. The cat appeared extremely pleased that she thwarted my attempt to catch Sloane. “You and I need toe to an understanding,” I told her while returning to the bedroom and stabbing my legs into a pair of athletic shorts. “You don’t get between me and Sloane. Got it?”


    The cat’s answer was to whip her tail up and down before giving me a view of her rump while walking away.


    “I’m talking to you, dammit.”


    Was I arguing with a cat? Me? Dominic De Li. The boss of the De Li crime family had been reduced to feline ridicule.


    When I made sure there was a barrier between my testicles and her ws, I headed to the coffee machine in the kitchen to pour myself a mug of brew. Ginger had positioned herself along the back of the couch, lying down with her paws folded in front of her.


    “Why don’t you go chase rats somewhere?” Never had I paid attention to anyone’s house animals. They served their purpose of sitting pretty, being appropriately groomed, and looking like part of the decor. Obviously, outside the pampered pets of Fifth Avenue and Manhattan’s elites, there existed a feral variety with obnoxious behavior.


    “I paid for that premium tuna, just so you know.”


    No response. No meows or hisses. Just silent, judgy eyes.


    So far, she hadn’t cockblocked me from Sloane and was surprisingly absent during our energetic bouts of sex. My phone buzzed on top of the kitchen counter and I winced. I had set a do-not-disturb feature and it finally expired at nine a.m. Monday morning.


    Back to reality.<hr>


    I walked into the grand foyer of my Hudson Yards penthouse. Soaring ceilings and arched windows, the vastness of its interior and blinding light, were a far cry from the cozy two days I spent holed up at Sloane’s. The main dining area and eat-in kitchen alone were bigger than her apartment. While my residenceprised of five bedrooms, a den, five full baths, two half baths, and an elegant sweeping staircase to the second floor and third-level roofnding, I also had an abundance of outdoor space across three floors.


    Yet I lived alone. De Li Transnational was a big yer in the real estate market both in the US and abroad, and when this penthouse came on the market, Matteo told me it was a steal at twenty-five million.


    I never, not once in the four years that I’d owned this ce, brought a woman here. It was my sacred ce. I hadn’t had a girlfriend since college. For a few years after I became boss, I enjoyed hookups with mafia groupies and socialites who loved living dangerously, but it only took one failed paternity suit to reevaluate my approach to sex. I became more cautious, and more selective, and always used my own condoms. My sex life became secretive and the tabloid that followed the mafia exploded into spections. One time they even wondered if I switched teams and was gay. It took one date with a popr socialite to dispel that rumor.


    I showered and changed into sweatpants and headed to my den to join a web meeting with De Li Transnational. Matteo and Nico usually tag-teamed on that. I was merely a figurehead because the things I did for thepany were best discussed face to face.


    As the meeting droned on, my mind drifted to how I managed to avoid the overzealous Manhattan Tattler from discovering who I was sleeping with. Recently it was because I was test-driving a dating app for the rich. Developed by a friend from college, the app ran on the dark web. Several luxury apartment buildings were scattered around Manhattan and were used as a rendezvous for sex-only hookups between the rich and rich. Individuals who prefer not to use an escort service and risk exposure. A carefully curated membership included an intense background check with a minimum worth of thirty million dors. There was even an anonymous rating system to keep egos in check and ensure continued membership. No money was exchanged beyond the membership fees and use of the opulent suite for the tryst.


    A message came over my phone from the concierge of the building. “Sir, your mother and cousin are on their way up.”


    Fuck.


    I texted Matteo who was leading the video call.


    Me


    Is your wife on her way to ambush me along with my mother?


    Matteo


    Serves you right. Where were you this weekend?


    I left him on read and signed out of the meeting, leaving him to exin. I was crossing the foyer when Ma walked in with Sera. I should revoke their ess to my penthouse.


    Annoyance was written all over my mother’s face. Meanwhile, Sera struggled to keep the humor off hers. Gio, her son, was with her.


    I gave the boy my attention. “What do you feed this boy?” I picked up the toddler and held him in my arms like a shield against the storm my mother was about to unleash. It confused people when I tried to exin that Sera and Matteo were my cousins, but they were married to each other. They were not blood rted. Sera was my cousin through my Moretti side, while Matteo was my cousin on the De Li side. It was too early to tell who their son would take after.


    “He eats a lot,” Sera said.


    “How old is he now?”


    “Nine months.”


    “Is he walking yet?”


    “Well—”


    “Dominic, seriously?” my mother snapped. “What’s with the small talk?”


    I grinned at her and walked over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Morning, Ma.”


    “It’s afternoon,” she shot back.


    “I was on my way to the kitchen for a shot of espresso. Anyone want one?”


    “Si, might as well,” my mother muttered. I handed Gio back to Sera.


    “Can we wait for you in the living room?” Sera asked. “Gio is starting to pull himself up to stand and likes to grab things.”


    Ma gave Gio a fond look and then looked pointedly at me. This was going to be an ufortable conversation. Giving her grandchildren was not in my five-year n.


    I put a te of butter biscuits and their espressos on the tray and headed for the living room. I used to have fancier pastries in the fridge. My longtime housekeeper quit and moved back to the Midwest, saying she’d had enough of city life and wanted to be closer to her grandchildren.


    Poor Ma. My sister and I were not keen on domestic life anytime soon.


    “So, what’s with the visit?”


    Ma took a sip of her espresso. “You’re still ying coy. I told you to be at the dinner partyst Saturday.”


    “I was out of town.”


    “That’s what Sonny said. Also, you were not responding to calls or texts.” I needed to touch base with my underboss, Sonny. He was in charge of our street business of smuggled goods and construction schemes while I kept our public face clean.


    “I was in Cape Cod, in the middle of the ocean. No signal.”


    “Didn’t I tell you it was an important dinner? Margo Winthrop was there.”


    Margo Winthrop was the matchmaker of the mafia, billionaires, and politicians. She ran thepany called Marriage Ink. She had contacts from powerful politicians to the powerful yers in the underworld. Her expertise was to secure alliances.


    I rxed against the sofa. “I’m not ready to consider marrying into the Russian bratva to solve your problem.”


    “My problem?” Her voice rose. “It’s a Moretti legacy.”


    “If it was considered a legacy, Nonno shouldn’t have promised it to the Russians when you were notmitted to the arranged marriage.”


    “Let me remind you, caro mio, that you and your sister wouldn’t exist if I didn’t marry your papa.”


    “Then why are they so important?” The properties in question were five luxury vis scattered along the Amalfi coast that were used as a dowry for Ma’s arranged marriage into the bratva, which she called off to marry Pop. The Morettis gave up those vis to avoid conflict with the bratva. The Russians epted them to avoid embarrassment on both sides.


    “Your nonno was heartbroken to let them go.” Ma pounded on her chest. “Before he died, I promised Papa I would get them back.”


    “By offering me on a silver tter?”


    “You’re not in a rtionship with anyone. You’re a don. You need a wife, and it’s time for you to get married and give me grandchildren.”


    I exhaled a heavy breath and nced at Sera. “Now would be a good time to chime in.”


    “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not the one promised to a bratva princess, and it would be nice to get the properties back.”


    “Thanks, cuz,” I grumbled. Unknown to my mother, Sera and I had discussed the vis owned by the Russians, but I was hoping Grigori Petrov would be my solution. My mother didn’t know that the Russians were using it for their sex parties. ording to my contacts, those properties were under scrutiny from the feds for sex trafficking. That was why Grigori had put that business on ice under orders from his pakhan.


    So Grigori was a problem and a solution.<fn7175> Find the newest release on find?novel</fn7175>


    He could convince his boss to let the problematic vis go in exchange for business with the De Lis. That was my reason for being at his poker gamest Friday with one of my entrepreneur friends. Unfortunately, hotheads prevailed during the game and a guest of his had a problem with mine. I intervened, but I ended up getting knifed. However, it was Kolya who took care of their problematic guest.


    ording to Sonny, Grigori had been inquiring about my welfare, worried the bloody poker game would turn me off from continuing to bring him high-profile yers.


    Sloane hadn’t been part of the n. Admittedly, it was stupid of me to follow her and proposition her, but I always had a hard-on for the enigmatic mob cleaner. I simply never acted on the attraction untilst Friday. In my blood-deprived head, I thought if I had her once, I could move on and tell Sandro Rossi that going after Grigori Petrov was a bad idea.


    You see, Sandro came to me and floated the idea about getting rid of Grigori, so Billy, Sloane’s lowlife brother, would get free of the Russians, and therefore free Sloane from the bratva’s clutches.


    And thereiny my dilemma. I needed Grigori’s support so I could avoid marrying into their organization. It was not in my best interest to have him whacked.


    Sleeping with Sloane was aplication I didn’t need.


    “I hope you’ll think about family since the holidays are near.” Ma excelled in sensing my guilt and had a way of piling on top of it. “Find a way to bring Lucy home for Thanksgiving, but especially Christmas.”


    “She’s busy ying fixer in DC,” I said dryly. “Besides, she’ll respond more to Pop than to you or me.”


    Ma huffed. “Then convince your zio Luca toe visit with Elias.”


    “Sera is more convincing with him than I am. Besides, she can use Gio to entice Luca as a ymate for Elias.”


    “I’m visiting him for the New Year,” Sera told my mother. “I want to be around the De Lis this time for Christmas, but I’ll see if I can convince him.”


    Ma’s face crumpled. I grabbed the tissue dispenser and passed it to her. She sniffled and dabbed her eyes. Even though Luca was thirty-seven years old, he would always be Ma’s baby brother. We’d flown to Chicago the past two Christmases to show him support. Luca had been a wreck after Natalya disappeared, and if it wasn’t for his son, Elias, he would have gone down a dark, destructive path to seek retribution. Two years had passed. Life had moved on, yet for Luca, it hadn’t. He was still looking for Natalya, which reminded me, I needed to get with Trevor, my intel guy, with information he’d gleaned from an asset that maybe, just maybe, Luca was not crazy and Natalya was alive.


    A chill ran down my spine.


    I sat beside my mother and put an arm around her. “If Sera won’t be able to convince him, then I’ll give it a shot and let him know he has a second family with us.”


    “Grazie, figlio mio,” Ma whispered. “I just worry about him.”


    “You worry too much about everyone,” I told her gently. I continued tofort my mother as my eyes met Sera’s across the room.


    She nodded at me.


    She would call Luca, and if she failed to convince my uncle toe to New York for Christmas, then I would step in. If I had to, I would fly to Chicago and physically put Luca on a ne.


    It was Christmas.


    The bonds of family mped around my chest and I waited for the usual suffocating tightness, but it didn’te.


    I wondered if my weekend with Sloane was simply that. A relief from the power of my position, but I didn’t have time to dwell on that thought.


    Duty called.