Three Weeks Later
If someone had told me two months ago that I'd find happiness in the home of a mafia Don, I would have laughed in their face.
But here I was, curled up in Dante's bed at two in the morning, watching him read through contracts while absently playing with my hair, and I couldn't remember ever being this content.
"You're staring," he said without looking up.
"You're worth staring at."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
"I'm not trying to get anywhere. I'm already exactly where I want to be."
He set down the papers and turned to me, his dark eyes soft in the lamplight. "How did I get so lucky?"
"Lucky? You blackmailed me into servitude."
"Best decision I ever made." He pulled me into his lap, the contract forgotten. "Though I'm star
