Ruthless Mafia Daddy (Alpha Mafia Daddies)

I was not expecting to be drinking champagne straight from the bottle in the front seat of a blacked-out Lamborghini when I took a seat opposite Dirk tonight.

Andre, unlike Dirk, is something out of a movie. There’s no way he’s real. From the way he swooped in and saved me from the worst date of my life to the way he has me throbbing between my thighs with one brush of my nipple to how he has me practically begging for him to take me home.

Fuck, I need to get laid.

“Where are we going?” I ask as Andre climbs into the driver’s seat.

“I’m staying at the Ritz-Carlton.”

Of course, he is.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he puts the car in drive, ignoring the thudding of my heart as he revs the engine. I still can’t quite believe I’m going home with this guy, but people say the best way to get over someone is by getting under someone else.

And Andre made me feel something back there, he made me get out of my head, and that is something that hasn’t happened since Sam and I broke up.

My hand itches to rest on his muscular thigh as he races along sixth avenue. His eyes focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a way I know has his forearms flexing beneath his suit jacket.

My mouth is actually watering.

If I want to keep my head cool and not make a fool of myself, I have to lay off the champagne, at least until we’re at the hotel. Then all bets are off.

I look at his profile. God, he’s beautiful.

“Are you staying in the city long?”

Andre doesn’t immediately reply, and my stomach sinks, but I try to ignore the feeling. This is a one-night thing. Guys like Andre don’t go for girls like me, so I should make the most of this one night of passion and make a memory out of it to warm me in the cold, lonely nights to come.

No getting attached, no feelings required. Just enjoy the night and move on. Before I get hurt.

“That depends on many different factors.” He glances sideways at me, the corner of his sensuous mouth lifting.

I bite my lip, taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and nose, his chiseled cheekbones that most girls would kill for. A hint of a stubble covers his jaw, roughing up the edges.

Yep, I’ve definitely made the right decision here.

We’re barely in the car ten minutes before we’re pulling up outside the Ritz-Carlton, and Andre leans over to unbuckle my seat belt.

I move to open my door, but he reaches out to stop me.

“Sit tight, princess.” He winks before climbing out of the car.

I do as I’m told, as Andre hands his keys off to a valet and strolls around to my side of the car to open my door.

Princess indeed.

I try to smother my grin as Andre takes my hand and helps me out of the car, which is obnoxiously low to the ground.

“I think I flashed most of the valets,” I mutter as I take Andre’s arm with my own, tucking my purse under my other one.

“Guess I didn’t need to tip them, then.”

I elbow him playfully and he grins as we climb the steps leading to the lobby.

Maybe it’s the booze, but I feel more comfortable with Andre in the very short amount of time I’ve known him than I did with Sam for the entire year we were together. I know I shouldn’t be thinking such things, especially as I know how this will go.

We’ll have mind-blowing sex, that much is obvious just from the way my body reacts to the slightest touch from him, and then I’ll leave in the night like it was all some fever dream.

The concierge opens the door for us. “Good evening, Mr. De Luca.”

“Evening, Harrison.” Andre smiles as we pass him. “Would you mind sending up some champagne when you have a moment?”

Andre’s so polite. A rare quality to find in a man, let alone a man with wealth. He’s not making it easy for me to stay detached.

It’s all for show.

The thought hits me out of nowhere, but it clears the lust-induced fog just a little.

“Of course, Mr. De Luca.”

Andre wraps his arm around my shoulder and leads us to the elevators. There’re three main ones, and I frown as we walk right past them.

“Uh. Are we on the main floor? Or the second floor? Because much higher than that will be killer on my feet with these heels if we take the stairs.”

Andre chuckles, running his thumb back and forth over my bare shoulder.

“I won’t make you take the stairs., princess. Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

We round a corner to another elevator.NôvelDrama.Org exclusive content.

A bellboy is waiting beside it and at our arrival, he presses a button, and the doors ping open.

“Good evening, Mr. De Luca.”

Andre nods and guides me inside first.

The elevator is small, giving me every excuse to stand close to him as the doors slide closed.

I glance at the buttons, and my mouth falls open as I see which one is lit up. “The penthouse?”

“Is that a problem?” Humor laces his voice.

“Uh, no.”

Andre chuckles, placing a hand on my waist and drawing me close to him. Not enough where my body is plush against his, but enough where I can inhale his intoxicating scent of bergamot and sandalwood.

I let my eyes flutter closed for a moment, reveling in the presence of this man who towers over me. I’m five foot three on a good day, and even in ridiculous heels I barely reach Andre’s chest.

I am going to climb him like a tree.

“After you,” he says as the elevator doors open, and I step out into the penthouse at the fucking Ritz-Carlton.

“You know, it was hard deciding between a gamer boy’s basement and a penthouse.” I glance around.

The place is huge, with an open living and dining area with plush couches and paintings that likely cost more than my rent. There’s even a bar stocked with every type of liquor, on top of which is a fresh bottle of champagne and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. With the floor-to-ceiling windows along the entire back wall overlooking Manhattan, it’s breathtaking,

“Oh, yeah?” Andre places a strong hand on the small of my back and guides me over to the bar area.

“Maybe you didn’t know this but at some point tonight, I was told there were sour patch kids in the basement,” I tease.

Andre narrows his onyx eyes at me before disappearing behind the bar and opening the fridge.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I hear the rustling of a packet, and he turns around, tossing a packet of sour patch kids onto the bar top.

“Baby, I can offer you a hell of a lot more than candy.” His voice is deep and rough.

My cheeks burn as his dark gaze devours me.

“I—’ My phone buzzes in my purse.

“Why don’t you get that while I sort out some drinks.” He smirks.

I toss my purse onto the bar and pull out my phone, frowning as Cassi’s name flashes on the screen.

“Now you call?” I snap. “You were supposed to have called two hours ago, Cass.”

“Where the heck are you?” Cassi demands. “Dirk told Andy that you guys were having a blast until some old dude interrupted and started a fight with him.”

“Trust me, that’s not what happened.” I snort. “That ‘old dude’ just saved me from the worst date of my life—something you were supposed to do.”

I glance at Andre, who’s pouring the champagne, and flash him a wink.

He shakes his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he fights back a smile.

“Sorry about that,” Cassi mutters. “I fell asleep.”

“It’s fine. It all turned out pretty well, actually…”

“You little hussy. You’re with the old dude right now, aren’t you?”

“Stop calling him that.” I chuckle. I glance again at Andre, my cheeks heating as his eyes flick over my body. “I’ll explain everything to you later, okay?”

“Fine, but take a photo of him and send it to me so I can show the police when you go missing⁠—”

I hang up on her before she can finish.

Andre hands me a glass of champagne, his dark eyes sparking. “I assume I’m the ‘old dude’?” He raises an eyebrow.

“What can I say, I have daddy issues.”

Andre snorts into his champagne and comes around the bar, taking me by the hand and leading me over to the windows so we can look out at the city. “Have you always lived in New York?”

I hesitate for a moment, taking a sip of my champagne as I take in the New York skyline.

“I moved here when I was twelve.” My stomach knots. “To live with my aunt.”

I’m not sure why I say it. I know Andre doesn’t really want to get to know me, it’s just small talk before we both get tipsy enough to get naked. But I guess after a year of being on my own, I’m more lonely than I thought.