Page 1 of Falling for the Mafia Dom
ChapterOne
ELLIE
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I throw my crossbody purse over my head and onto my shoulder.
“What about this isn’t a good idea?” Lyla stares at me in bewilderment from the couch, “I would kill for the opportunity Professor Heard set you up with! We graduate in two weeks, and you know there is no way in hell you are going to find a job that pays this well,” she stands from the couch as she begins to emphatically rattle off her reasons, “On top of that, they’re going to give you a place to live. You get to travel with them. The place is surrounded with fine as fuck men.”
“Fine as fudge men that do horrible things.”
“Fuck, Ellie.” Lyla flops back on the couch, “I said, ‘fine as fuck.’”
When NYU made Lyla my roommate four years ago, they could not have picked someone more different from me. She grew up here, in New York City, and is the most outspoken and outgoing person I have ever met. If it weren’t for her, I probably would have spent four years in my dorm room with my nose buried in a book. Instead, she forced me to clubs and parties, double dates with frat guys, and seeing just what city life had to offer at three in the morning. She has shown me that there is so much more out there than what the reserved little rural town in Oklahoma I grew up in had to offer. Because of her, I will try just about anything. At least once.
I should go to this interview.
“Fine asfuckmen,” I huff back at her as I roll my eyes.
“Thank you,” a smug smile spreads across her face, “I’ve only got two more weeks to teach you it’s okay to drop an F-bomb every now and then.”
She’s been really pushing that one since freshman year.
Eighteen years of ‘ladies don’t speak like that’ is a really hard habit to break.
“You better get going,” Lyla taps at the non-existent watch on her wrist, “or you’re going to miss the six train.”
“I don’t have to take the subway.”
“Ellie,” she looks at me and has a disappointed frown across her face, “a cab that far is going to cost you a fortune.”
“I had a message this morning saying that they were going to be sending a car for me.”
Before she has a chance to respond my phone dings.
Unknown
Ms. Taylor, I am here to drive you to the Botticelli Estate.
Be right down.
“That’s my ride,” I look to Lyla as I shove my phone into my bag, “Love you.”
“You’re a bad bitch. You’ve got this,” she yells after me as I step into the hallway, “Love ya!”
For some reason, I’m still chuckling at her as I step out onto the city street.
“Ms. Taylor?” A very attractive, muscular man dressed in a well-fitted and expensive looking suit addresses me as he opens the rear door of a black sedan.
A fine as fudge man.
Fuck! Fine asfuckman.
“Yes,” I nervously chew on my lip, feeling my cheeks warming.
Sliding into the backseat of the car, he shuts the door behind me. A moment later, he is in the driver’s seat and pulling us into the city traffic. Staring out of my window, I watch as the buildings slowly change from skyscrapers to Brownstones. Each block looking wealthier than the last. We make a turn and come to a complete stop. I’m surprised to find us parked at an iron gate when I look through the windshield.
The gate slowly draws open, and the car begins to roll through the opening. As we pass through, I notice that there is another large, well-dressed man standing next to the gate. He turns slightly toward the car, and I realize that he has a large gun holster underneath his jacket.
The car slowly makes its way down the long driveway and my heart begins beating faster. My nerves finally starting to get the better of me, I swallow hard.
