Savage Sinner: An Enemies To Lovers Russian - Italian Dark Mafia Romance (Sinfully Savage Mafia)

“You know, you keep digging into me but…” I say, picking up the knife from the kitchen counter and twirling it around my fingers. “You were awfully skilled with that little knife trick earlier. You know, the one where you managed to get it away from me before I had a chance to slit your throat? You grab that one from your own bag of tricks?”

“I wouldn’t call it a trick. I just know how to defend myself.”

“I think that’s more than just defending yourself,” I say quietly. “And definitely not something I’d expect from a real estate investor. I’d imagine you don’t have to defend yourself against too many knife-wielding sellers, yeah?”

“I don’t know about that. I’m a pretty tough negotiator.”

We stand there, dissecting each other’s words as the delicious scents from the oven waft in the air around us.

“I can imagine.”

Dante gets up from the stool, walking over to the oven but then diverting in my direction. He backs me against the refrigerator and laces his fingers with the hand still holding the knife, sending it clattering to the floor. My pulse throbs against my neck as he presses himself against me. “Tell me what you were going to do with that knife, Anya,” he murmurs.

“I was going to protect myself,” I whisper. “And Aisling.”

“How did you know I was there?” he mutters, his forehead almost pressed against mine.

“I just…I felt something. And I didn’t know if you’d gone out. We were alone as far as I knew. Someone could have broken in…”

“Is that what you were expecting?”

“What?” I rasp.

“Waaaaah!”

I jump, Aisling’s shrill cry shattering the air through the baby monitor. I push Dante away from me, my gut clenching as I hurry down the hallway toward my room. I run inside and pick her up from the crib, settling her against my racing heart.

Jesus! I knew that knife stunt tipped him off!

He is totally onto me.

I walk the baby around until her cries turn into soft whimpers. I know I need to feed her, but I also need to get my head screwed on straight. I have to give him something…anything…to get him to trust me, at least until I get in touch with my uncle.

I let out a shallow breath and walk back toward the kitchen. Dante already has a bottle ready for her. He must have mixed it when I went to my room. He reaches out and she jumps into his arms, clawing at his hands until the nipple is secured between her lips.

“Thank you,” I say. “You know, um, one of the reasons why I became an au pair is because I spent a lot of time volunteering with orphan babies back in New York.” I don’t even know where that came from, but it sounds good. And it is kind of an extension of a truth. I guess maybe he needs to hear it.

It also sounds like I’m grasping at straws, but I’ll take the risk.

He clearly doesn’t trust me, so why am I making up some stupid bullshit story to throw him off? To ingratiate myself with him?

So I can sleep with him again?

He sinks onto the couch as Aisling nestles into his embrace. “Volunteering, huh?”

“Yes,” I say, walking into the living room. “I started doing it when I was a teenager. My neighborhood in the city had an orphanage and I used to make clothes for the kids.” This is all true. Part of my seamstress therapy with Olga.

But I never had a desire to get close to the kids.

He narrows his eyes at me. “Interesting.”

I shrug. “I just wanted to do something to help.”

“Why?”

A lump forms in my throat. “Because I knew what it was like to not have parents,” I whisper, my voice quivering slightly. I didn’t mean for that to slip out.

I didn’t intend to give him any insight into my past.

But it does feel good to say the words, to open up and speak my truth.

It is one-hundred percent true, too.

“What happened to your parents?” he asks.

I swallow hard past the lump. “There was a break-in at my house. They were both killed. I was only thirteen.”

“That’s horrible. I’m really sorry,” he says. “I lost my mother. I know how hard that is. Can’t imagine losing both of my parents.”

I nod. “Thanks. And I’m sorry for your loss, too.”

An uncomfortable silence permeates the room. I’d intended to quell his curiosity with my tale of woe, but instead, I poured a cup of salt in my now-open wound.

Because I am very much alone, and that fact is more glaring than ever, considering my one lifeline is still MIA.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Dante asks.

“A brother,” I say. “But I don’t see him anymore.”

“That’s rough,” he says. “My brothers and I can go at it pretty hard, but we’re really tight.”

“Sounds nice,” I say softly.

“You should reach out to him. Figure out a way to make things better. It’s family for life, you know?”

Tears spring to my eyes and I blink them away. “ Yes. You’re right. Maybe I should try.”

“Good.” He nods toward the table. “You still hungry?”

“Ravenous,” I say with a shaky laugh.

His lips curl upward into a wicked grin. “I’d love to feast on something other than that porterhouse.”

“I’d love that, too,” I murmur.

“Eat. I’ll hold the baby,” he says, nodding at the food.

“Are you sure?” I ask.