7

Massimo watched Julia flee from his club like a frightened deer, her blonde friend dragging her toward the exit. Amusing. She thought she could run from him. "Should we follow them, boss?" Luca, his head of security, appeared at his elbow. "No." Massimo swirled the whiskey in his glass, eyes never leaving Julia's retreating form until she disappeared through the door. "She knows where to find me when she's ready."

"And if she doesn't come?" Massimo's smile was cold. "She'll come. They always do." But even as he said it, he knew Julia Morrison was different from the women who usually caught his attention. Those women were predictable—drawn to power and money, willing to overlook the darkness in exchange for luxury. Beautiful, interchangeable, forgettable. Julia was none of those things.

He'd first noticed her three weeks ago, standing on his dance floor looking lost and overwhelmed and absolutely exquisite. Dark hair, pale skin, those soulful eyes that promised depths he wanted to explore. She'd looked at him—really looked at him—and instead of the usual calculation or fear, he'd seen curiosity. Then that bastard had approached her. Massimo had watched them dancing. Had felt fury rising in his chest that someone else was touching what he'd already claimed in his mind. He'd had Luca run a background check immediately. Julia Morrison. Twenty years old. Virgin. Sheltered, religious upbringing. First time in a club. First time away from her parents' iron control. Perfect. Except she'd chosen wrong.

But while watching her, Massimo had found that something must have happened and Massimo had seriously considered having the guy killed but changed his mind, not wanting to waist his precious time on time on the bastard.

"Boss?" Luca was still waiting for instructions. "Make sure she gets back to campus safely," Massimo said. "Discrete surveillance only. I don't want her frightened." Luca nodded and melted away into the crowd. Massimo returned to his VIP section, where his associates were conducting business and beautiful women were posing decoratively. None of them interested him. Not anymore.

"Massimo!" Giovanni, one of his oldest friends and most trusted lieutenants, dropped into the seat beside him. "I saw you dancing with some girl. Not your usual type."

"No," Massimo agreed, signaling for another drink. "She's not." "So what's the play? Quick fuck and forget, or are you actually interested?" Massimo considered the question. His reputation with women was well-established—brief, passionate, and transactional. He didn't do relationships. Didn't do feelings. Women were a pleasant distraction, nothing more. But Julia... "I'm keeping her," he heard himself say. Giovanni's eyebrows shot up.

"Keeping her? As in..."

"As in she's mine. Permanently." Massimo said it with the same certainty he'd used to claim his territory, build his empire, eliminate his enemies. "I want her investigated. Everything. Friends, family, daily routines, favorite coffee shop, everything." "Massimo, you don't even know this girl."

"I know enough." He did. Know she was brave enough to step outside her comfort zone but scared of what she might find there. Know she'd been hurt and was still healing. Know she'd looked at him with fear and fascination in equal measure. "She's different."

"Different how?"

"She looked at me and didn't see a wallet or a threat. She saw a man." Massimo wasn't sure how to explain it. "I want her, Gio. And I'm going to have her."

"And if she says no?" Massimo smiled slowly. "She won't." Over the next week, Massimo learned everything about Julia Morrison. Her class schedule (psychology, education theory, child development, religious studies). Her favorite coffee shop (small place off campus that served lavender lattes). Her best friend (Kate Reynolds, business major, louder and more protective than her size suggested). He learned she studied in the library every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon. That she attended chapel services twice a week. That she called her parents every Sunday evening and lied convincingly about her social life. He learned she was still hurting from that bastards betrayal. Still blamed herself. Still looked over her shoulder like she expected more pain. It made him want to find him and change his mind. Instead, he sent flowers.

The first bouquet arrived at her dorm on Monday—white roses, expensive and elegant. No card. He wanted her to wonder, to think about who might be sending them. The second arrived Wednesday—red roses this time, bolder. Still no card. By Friday, he knew she was thinking about him. His sources reported she'd asked Kate about him, had looked nervous every time she entered or left her dorm. Good. He wanted her off-balance. Wanted her thinking about him constantly. The way he couldn't stop thinking about her.

"This is getting obsessive," Giovanni commented, watching Massimo review the latest surveillance photos. "You're tracking a college student like she's a rival family boss."

"I need to know everything about her." Massimo studied a photo of Julia laughing with Kate in the campus cafeteria. She looked younger when she smiled, less burdened. "How else can I give her what she needs?"

"What she needs is probably not a mafia don with anger issues and a God complex." Massimo shot him a dark look. "I don't have a God complex."

"You literally just said you're going to give her what she needs as if you know better than she does." "I do know better." Massimo set down the photos. "She's been controlled her entire life. Parents who smothered her with rules and expectations. Then she finally breaks free and the first man she trusts treats her like garbage. She needs someone who sees her value. Someone who won't abandon her."

"Someone like you?" Giovanni's tone was skeptical. "The man who changes women like suits?"

"I won't change her," Massimo said quietly. "She's mine now. I take care of what's mine." Giovanni studied him for a long moment. "You're serious about this."

"Completely."

"Then you better hope she feels the same way. Because if you go full Massimo on her—possessive, controlling, jealous—you're going to terrify the poor girl." Massimo smiled. "She's already terrified. But she's also curious. I saw it when we danced. She's afraid of me, but she's also drawn to me. That's enough to work with." "And when she finds out what you really are? What you do?"

"She'll accept it," Massimo said with absolute certainty. "Because by then, she won't be able to imagine life without me." Giovanni shook his head. "Famous last words, my friend. Famous last words."