Snowed in with the mafia don and his little girl

Mai's pov The cabin creaks loudly again under my feet as I continue pacing. The heater died two hours ago, the power flickered once, and then gave up on life completely. Water drips from the hole in the roof, collecting in one corner of the room, forming a puddle near the couch. If I stay here any longer, I’m convinced the floor will collapse and take me with it. I look at my phone. Three percent battery and no signal. “Fantastic,” I mutter. The receptionist on the line keeps apologizing. “We promise to send someone for the power, ma’am. We just need a few more hours…” I hang up. I can’t sit here and wait to become a popsicle. I yank on my coat, grab my purse and stomp outside. Snow hits me in the face instantly, stealing my breath. My boots slip on the porch, and I catch myself on the railing with fingers already numb. I need warmth. And then I remember the charity building from earlier today. Maybe they are still open for the holiday week. Maybe there’s a small room or a storage closet. Anything will do. I force my way through the storm, head down, snow whipping at my ears until they burn. All I wanted is a quiet solo christmas, just me and my laptop. Now I’m freezing, soaked, and stuck with almost a bad christmas By the time I reach the building, I'm shaking so hard my bones ache. Lights glow through the frosted windows. Thank Goodness. I shove open a side door, definitely not the one we used during the event, but I’m too cold to care. Warm air hits me instantly with a mix of slight relief. I walk quickly through the hallway, nodding at staff, searching for the friendliest face to beg for help. I grab a doorknob, twist, and push inside and freeze. A man stands in the middle of the room wearing nothing but a towel wrapped low around his hips. Droplets run down his chest, tracing the lines of carved muscle and dark tattoos covering his left arm. He looks to be 6'6"tall. Dark hair framed his face, stoping right at his shoulder. He is a box of chocolate goodness that I don't mind having. His dark eyes find mine. And he looks furious. “Oh my God,” I gasp, slapping my hands over my face as my purse crashes to the floor. “I’m so, so sorry.” “What are you doing here?” His voice is deep, rough and cold. The kind I love to hear in the morning. “I…I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t trying to…” I begin to stutter, my face feels like its on fire even though I’m half frozen. He steps closer. “You are shaking.” “Because I’m embarrassed!” I squeak. “No. From the cold.” Tiny footsteps patter behind me. “Daddy! It’s her!” I peek through my fingers. The little girl, Ava, from the charity event runs to his side, cocoa in hand. She beams at me. “She helped me decorate the tree! Daddy, she is freezing.” My hands drop. “Sorry,” I mumble again, because apparently that’s the only word my brain knows tonight. He points toward the small plaque on the door. “There is a VIP sign there. You just walked into private room.” I turn my head slowly, and sure enough, it's on the door. Well. I am an i***t. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see it,” I say, voice small. “I wouldn’t have…” “Sorry doesn’t fix invading my privacy.” Invading. Great. I think to myself. Maybe I should throw myself back into the snow. “My cabin lost power,” I say quickly. “The roof is leaking. I just needed somewhere warm…” “So you are stranded.” His tone is flat. I nod. “You will have to find somewhere else.” My stomach drops. “Please,” I whisper. “Just for the night. I’m not trying to cause trouble.” Ava tugs his hand again. “Daddy, please. She is nice, she helped me set the tree and gifts for the kids. We can’t leave her outside.” He looks at her, then at me. Conflict flickers across his face causing his jaw to harden. “You volunteered earlier,” he says. “At the charity?” “Yes. That was me.” She bounces. “See? Daddy, she is nice!” He sighs, a deep, put-upon sigh of a man losing a battle he fights every day. “Fine,” he mutters. “One night, that's all you have." “Yes, sir,” I say too quickly. He points at the hallway. “Wait there.” I drag my feet out and he shuts the door. When it opens again, he is dressed in black pants, a fitted turtleneck, and a brown jacket. His damp hair is pushed back. He looks like every Christmas romance cover, I can almost melt from the intensity of his gaze. We head to the lobby and step outside to a black SUV. “I don’t want to cause trouble,” I say as he opens the passenger door for me. “I shouldn’t even…” “You prefer to freeze in the storm?” he cuts in. I shut my mouth. “You are not causing trouble,” he says. My heart softens. “Thank you. I’m Mia.” “Marcello,” he says after a few seconds. “Marcello Rafael." Of course he has a name that sounds like a billionaire who doesn’t sleep. Marcello starts the engine. His jaw is tight, his hand gripping the wheel like he might break it. “You don’t usually allow strangers, do you?” I ask. “No,” he says. “But she asked.” He nods toward Ava. “And she is the only person I don’t say no to.” She gives me a sugary smile, my chest warms and I smile back at her. Snow thickens around us as we pull into a massive estate. “You live here?” I whisper. “Yes.” My eyes takes in the wonder before me. This is a lot of money. She kicks the back of his seat gently. “Can we decorate for christmas too daddy?” Marcello groans. “We will see.” I smile. He doesn’t realize he has already lost that fight. The SUV rolls to a stop. He steps out first and opens my door. Snow blows in, making me shiver. I step down and my boot stomps on something buried in the snow and it makes a little crunch. I crouch and lift it. Marcello stiffens instantly. “What is that?” I wipe the snow off with my index finger. It’s a phone with cracked screen. And on the back of it smeared across the case is a bloody fingerprint. I raise it to him. His expression darkens “Mia,” he calls, his voice harsh. “Drop that now.”