Lahat ng Kabanata ng MAFIA'S DOMINANT LOVE: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

I lift to see mischievous eyes staring into mine. “Oh yeah?”My plans involved a bed, the kitchen island, and a shower.Hers involved cramming into a crowded theater, paying for overpriced cheap wine for her, then hiding in the corner praying the lights go down before we’re spotted.I’ll never say no to her, so my plans are back-burnered until later while we watch a play in the standing-room-only section since all the seats were sold out. Madonna insisted this was the best way to see a play. I’m not convinced until after intermission, and I see tears hovering in her eyes as she watches the people on stage.I’ve missed the complete story because I was captivated by the way every emotion she feels deep inside plays across her face. The magic isn’t on stage. The magic is wrapped up inside Madonna Saint Elise.Not once has she shown this depth of emotion in her films. I need to get her back to Broadway. Selfishly, it brings her closer to me as well.We slip out before the ovations, which

Tears fill my eyes, and with no time to find my sunglasses, they fall. A back door is opened and through watery vision, I squeeze through the chaos. The phone in my back pocket buzzes as I climb inside the car. I don’t even care if my suitcase makes it at this point. I tell the driver, “Go. Please go.”How do I go from one of the best nights of my life to dropping my head into my hands and crying?“Are you okay, miss?”“No. I’m not.” I turn to look outside, but something catches my attention in my periphery. I look at the driver again and see him handing me a box of tissues.He says, “I’m sorry. That was awful.”Taking the box, I stare at him. As awful as that was back there, here I’m being offered the kindness of a stranger. “Thank you.” This is what matters. Not people who make more money off upset celebrities or the paparazzi who make a living off provoking someone to capture their worst in a photo. “I appreciate it.”He nods, focusing his attention forward for the remainder of the

Joemar Russo POVI’m not sure in what—God, his recovery, or that things will work out how they should. I don’t question her because we all handle tragedies differently, but I want to taste that same faith that makes her eyes shine through the tears she’s holding back. “Have you heard anything?” I ask in a whisper, careful not to have Cullen overhear. I’m grasping for any news that will give me the same buoy to hold on to while still finding comfort in her touch.“He’s going to be okay, but they still don’t know the extent of the damage since they didn’t want to cut the layers of his clothes before reaching the hospital. They’re doing that now, separating the fibers from the burns.” Cullen wiggles at her side. She turns to me and says, “I’m going to find him a bathroom.”Cullen comes over and envelops me in his arms. I didn’t know I needed the embrace until I was wrapped in it. A stifled cry chokes me up, and the tears threatening to fall this whole time finally do. I turn into him, hu

Jeomar Russo POV“What the . . .?”Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, I stare at my phone and the message on the screen. My chest aches where my heart used to be, but I rarely feel it anymore even with adrenaline pumping through me.“What is it, Daddy?” Cullen whines, “This is boring.” I’ve heard that a few times over the past two weeks. It was nice to have him for an extended period, but I think he might be sick of his old man.I shove my phone in my back pocket because I can’t reply with my mind going in a million directions and my kid tugging on my hand. I try not to be on my phone as much when I’m with my son, but I can’t stop thinking that I’m imagining the message that just popped up. “It’s not boring. We walk to experience life instead of sitting in the back of a vehicle. Look around, Cullen. What do you see?”While he’s busy trying to spot one of a million differences from the last time we walked this route, I can’t help but wonder why now? Why would Madonna text me out

Madonna Saint Elise POVShrugging, I laugh so softly that I barely even hear it. “I don’t need much to make me happy. You and maybe a Tootsie Pop or some chocolate.”His grin extends, carving into his cheeks as his eyes stay steady on mine. “I’m going to give you the world, Madonna Saint Elise. I’ll buy you a whole candy shop just to see your smile.”“It’s not for me that I want it.” Too subtle?A roguish grin takes over, and his hands lower to my hips, pulling me on top of him. He’s already hard when he shifts my hips forward and back again over his length. “I’m going to spoil you rotten, my love.”The teasing gets the better of me, and I finally kiss him, briefly losing myself in the headiness of being together again. “Good thing I love to be spoiled.” Slipping lower, I take hold of his erection and add, “But I want to go first.” I spoil him with every ounce of my being, making love and making him come so hard, first with my mouth and then with my body. I take every inch of him and