The Don and His Mafia Princess: Book Two of The Costanzo Series - Standalone

CHAPTER 10

It's been a few days since the party at Mr. Carter's house, and Stefano has been relentlessly gathering information on the Kazan gang, a group that was supposedly wiped out years ago. The night we returned to his apartment, I asked him why Mr. Carter didn't provide the information Stefano needed, given their apparent friendship. Stefano's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he explained that if the Kazan gang was indeed behind the bullet purchase, Mr. Carter's life would have been ended the moment he uttered a word.

I'm in the kitchen, savoring a leisurely breakfast, when my phone trills, interrupting the peaceful morning. Glancing at my phone screen, an unknown number flashes. Curiosity piqued, I swipe to answer. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Andrea?" The deep, resonant voice on the other end sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't quite pinpoint where I've heard it before.

"Yes, this is she. How can I help you?"

"It's Ivan. How are you doing today?"

"I'm good, and yourself?"

A warm chuckle precedes his reply. "My day just got infinitely better hearing your lovely voice." His words, laced with flirtation, elicit an involuntary, girlish giggle that surprises even me.

"You're funny, Ivan. I must say, I'm surprised you called."

"I know it's been a few days since we met, but I have a good reason for just calling now. Work has been utterly hectic, and I'm hoping you can forgive me." Sincerity rings in his deep voice, and I find my defenses melting.

"It's fine, no need to apologize. I understand how demanding work can be," I assure him.

"Thank you for understanding, and I'd love to take you out to dinner tonight to make it up to you if you're available."

"I'm free tonight. What time and where are you thinking for dinner?" I ask, a wave of happiness washing over me as I anticipate seeing him again.

"Why don't I pick you up around 6pm, and we can decide on a place together?" he suggests smoothly.

"Sure, that sounds perfect. I'll text you my home address."

"Wonderful. I'm looking forward to it. See you at 6, Andrea."

"Bye, Ivan." I end the call with a small smile on my face, looking forward to our dinner date.

"Where are you going at 6 pm?" Stefano's deep Italian voice startles me, and I turn to find him leaning against the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Out," I reply casually, trying to ignore the way my heart rate spikes at his sudden appearance.

"Out where?" He arches a brow, his gaze intense.

"To a restaurant." I keep my tone light, but I can feel the tension building in the air between us.

"With who?" His question is sharp and demanding.

"With a friend. Why are you asking me all these questions?" I counter, my own brows furrowing.

"Do I know this friend of yours?" He ignores my query, his eyes narrowing.

"No, you don't. And you didn't answer my question."

"I don't think you should go out with him." His words are firm, leaving no room for argument.

"Why would you say that? And how do you know it's a male?" I challenge, my hackles rising at his presumptuous tone.

"Because I don't know him, and if it were a girl, you would have said her name by now," he says, pushing off the kitchen entrance and slowly walking toward me.