Nothing Burns Like You | 18+ Mafia Romance

1 Who are YOU?

CLARA ROSSI

People kept banging on the bathroom door as if I was going to open it.

Too bad. I was too busy straddling Enzo—my dad's junior employee. Busy ruining his black, spiky hair and wrinkling his expensive suit. And that he was sitting in an empty bathtub made this ten times more amusing.

"So you'll talk to him?" I shifted my hips against him, smiling at his trembling exhale. "Hm?"

"God, you're going to get me in so much trouble..."

"I will, if you don't listen." I grabbed a fistful of his hair and brushed my lips across the shell of his ear. "Come on. He likes you. He knows we hang out. Tell him I'm ready. Tell him how passionate, dedicated, and hard-working I am." To prove my point, I grazed my palm over his insignificant bulge, teasing him over his dress pants. "He just needs to realize I'm not a little girl anymore, don't you agree?"

He let out the most condescending, sleazy chuckle. "Oookay, sure."

I paused. "Excuse me?"

"Just go to college! Jesus Christ. Or open a beauty salon—I don't know." He placed his hands on my thighs, crumpling the emerald silk. "You're a rich girl. Why do you care? Plus, the right man would never let you work."

He tried to kiss me, but I pushed my finger on his lips. "The right man would know better than to think he can control me. He'd also care enough to fight for me."

My blood boiled when he clicked his tongue with dismissal. Prick. I pushed myself out of the bathtub and slipped my studded Valentinos back on.

"Come onnn. Did you get upset? Baby, talk to me. Claraaa? Come on. Don't do that."

I tightened my ponytail, then adjusted the criss-cross straps of my open-back jumpsuit.

He sighed. "Why are you being difficult?"

"Difficult? Oh, that's original."

I hated that word. My mom and dad loved to call me that whenever they couldn't win an argument. You're so difficult, Clara. Stop being so difficult. You're too difficult.

"I care about you—"

"You don't. Clearly, you're with me, because of my last name, and because you thought I'd be easy to fool. Sorry to disappoint." I gave him a sarcastic smile, enjoying the anger tightening his features. "When you started working for my dad two months ago, I was impressed by how dedicated you were. I thought you'd understand. I didn't ask for much. Just for you to tell him the truth."

"Tell him yourself." He scoffed. "I don't understand what you're involving me for. It's none of my business. He's your dad. Go talk to him."

"That's not my—" I cut myself off. It wasn't worth it. Take a deep breath and put the smile back on. "You know what? Thanks. I'll go do that right now. I'll also tell him what I really think about you. So good luck!"

He called after me, but I yanked the door open. Outside, the three guests who were waiting to use the bathroom gave me a critical look, but said nothing.

Downstairs, music and laughter blasted my eardrums. My mother had gone waaay overboard with the party. Ironic how she spent an abnormal kind of money for my birthday—seriously, enough to feed a city—but she wouldn't even notice if I wasn't there.

Outside the floor-length windows of the mansion, she had rented ancient Greek sculptures. They surrounded the marble water fountain and rose bushes trimmed in geometric shapes. Everything was intentionally designed to impress the two hundred guests today. The gold-filigree china. The piled display of carved fruits and roasted meats. The exploding flower centerpieces.