Taming Domenico

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 6

MAUREEN

I don’t know what got to me more—Domenico saying he would personally train me, or the fact that I actually wanted that. Like, stupidly wanted that.

Maybe I’d been s*x-deprived too long. For months, I didn't have s*x with Zachary. Maybe the power trip from the mission was still humming in my veins. Or maybe it was just the way his dark eyes dropped to my lips before looking away like I was beneath him.

Still, the tension crackled in the room like an exposed wire.

"Eat," Domenico ordered, taking the seat at the head of the table. My fork paused halfway to my mouth before I obeyed without thinking. Pathetic.

I looked up to see him still staring at me.

"You always glare at people while they eat or am I just special?" I muttered, stabbing at a piece of grilled chicken.

“You are not special,” he replied coolly, reaching for a glass of red wine. “You're just loud.”

I smirked. “Takes one to know one.”

“I’m not loud, piccola. I’m precise.”

“More like arrogant,” I said under my breath, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile. Just… something.

"Eh! What did I miss?" Matteo strolled in, his black shirt half unbuttoned and his curly hair messily tied back. He dropped into the seat next to mine, grabbing a breadstick like he owned the place. Which, knowing these men, he probably did.

"The girl broke her phone," Domenico said, nodding toward the shattered pieces still sitting on the table.

“Accidenti,” Matteo winced. “What did the poor phone do to deserve death?”

“Showed me something I didn’t want to see,” I muttered.

“Jane?” he guessed easily.

I blinked. “How did—?”

“Eh,” Matteo said with a grin, tossing a piece of bread in his mouth. “Domenico’ll get you a new one though. He’s sweet like that when he’s not threatening people.”

“Shut up, stronzo,” Domenico said mildly, sipping his wine.

“Oh come on, you like her. She’s all angry and sexy and wants revenge. That’s your type.”

"I don’t have a type," Domenico said without looking at either of us.

My mouth was dry, my body ridiculously aware of him. I hated it. Hated the way my thighs clenched at the way his voice dropped on certain words. Hated how my eyes followed the veins in his forearm every time he lifted his glass.

I hated how damn good he looked doing nothing.

“I need to know when training starts,” I said, cutting through the tension before it strangled me.

Domenico looked up slowly, his eyes assessing me like he was deciding whether I was worth the effort. “5 a.m. sharp.”

“Jesus,” I groaned.

“Train hard or die easy, piccola,” he said lazily, then added, “You’ll come in to work with me tomorrow.”

I blinked. “Work?”

He lifted a brow. “You think I don’t have legal businesses?”

I shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the nine-to-five type.”

“I’m not,” he said, smirking slightly. “But I own people who are.”

Matteo snorted. “She’s going to be his P.A. You know, like those sexy drama shows. The hot, intimidating boss. The disobedient assistant. Tension everywhere.”

Domenico shot him a cold glare. “Shut up, Matteo.”

“Make me,” Matteo grinned.

“You don’t want that,” Domenico said smoothly, and Matteo only laughed harder.

I rolled my eyes. Great, I was working for a man who looked like sin, smelled like dominance, and had no idea how to use the word gentle. Perfect.

“What do I wear?” I asked. “To work, I mean.”

“I don’t care. Just don’t distract my staff.”

“Your staff or you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

His eyes flicked to mine, hard. “Watch it, Maureen.”

Heat bloomed low in my stomach. God, I needed to get laid.

“Matteo will bring you the necessities tonight,” he added, already pulling out his phone.

Matteo threw a dramatic salute. “Your wish is my command, boss.”

I watched Domenico’s face as he answered the call. Something shifted—just a little. His mouth curved faintly, but it wasn’t for me.

“Luca,” he said, voice softening in a way I hadn’t heard before.

“LUCA!” Matteo bellowed toward the phone like a madman. “You bastard! Are you still alive or did your d**k finally get you killed?”

I blinked at them, trying to piece it all together.

Domenico’s mouth twitched again. “Stronzo, he can hear you.”

“Good. He needs to hear me. That asshole still owes me a hundred bucks!”

“Cento dollari?” Domenico repeated in Italian, amused now. “It’s always about money with you.”

They kept talking in quick Italian, half of which I didn’t understand, but one thing was clear—Luca mattered. A lot. Domenico didn’t smile often, but now? There was a faint glow in his eyes.

I stood quietly, not wanting to interrupt. I wasn’t part of this moment. Not yet.

“Where are you going?” Domenico asked, eyes flicking to me even as he still had the phone to his ear.

“Just heading back to

my room,” I said.

His gaze lingered.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Five a.m., piccola. Don’t be late.”