New Adult · Romance

Mafia Princess by Bella J

I stopped in front of the one-way mirror, and there she was—Karina Valenti, daughter of infamous Italian-American Mafia boss, Lorenzo Valenti—waiting just for me.
Now I must admit, I was slightly disappointed at how absolutely cool and calm she looked. She hadn’t even broken a sweat during the fifteen minutes she was cramped up inside that stinking room without a clue as to what she was doing there.
Slanting my head to the side, I continued to look at her. This was the first time I’ve seen her in person. All the other two thousand, one hundred and thirteen times I’ve seen that face was when I stared at a picture of her—in a non-weird, perverted kind of way.
I’ve been keeping a very close eye on the Valentis, studying them—her parents, her two brothers, her. For the last sixteen months I’ve basically been glued to every move that family made. And by now I sure as hell knew a lot about Karina Valenti.
For instance, I know that she’s twenty-two years old, her birthday is January eleventh, and that she is in her third year at Columbia University Law School. Currently she was home for summer vacation, one of the three times a year she visited—the others being Thanksgiving and Christmas. I also knew that her family owned the Italian restaurant I just had my lunch at, the restaurant I’ve been having my lunch at quite regularly lately.
The Valentis pretended that the restaurant was a goldmine—judging by their pizza it probably was—and that Lorenzo’s impeccable knowledge in everything Wall Street was where they got all their wealth from. But everyone knew that Lorenzo Valenti was so much more than that.
Children have been disappearing like crayons at a daycare center, bodies pooling up, and drugs spreading like a fucking disease on the streets. I’m convinced that this woman’s dad was behind it all.
She flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder holding her phone in the other hand. She was texting, or probably updating her Facebook status for the hundredth time today. This woman was more active on social media than a cheap hooker in Kensington, Pennsylvania.
I decided to finally grace her with my presence, and walked into the room.
“Miss Valenti, thank you for coming. I’m Detective Stone.”
“Detective Stone.” She looked up at me, and the moment her eyes met mine, I’m instantly captivated. I’ve seen them so many times before in pictures, but it’s obvious that the camera didn’t do them justice. Her big, round eyes were like melted chocolate swirls—dark, rich, and alluring, making me wish I could jump in and get lost inside them.
“Do you mind telling me what all this is about, Detective?”
My gaze fell down to her full, luscious, tempting red lips, and all I see at that moment, all I think about right then are eyes and lips, and about a dozen acts of sin.
Karina Valenti was beautiful.
Fuck.

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