Mafia Claimed (Severin Family Book 3) Read online

  “Lucas Glass. Artist,” she read out loud. Underneath that was a number.

  Grace knew he was bad news. Lucas was exactly the kind of man her dad warned her to stay away from growing up. Her mind told her to refuse, but her lips wanted to say “yes.” She remembered that portrait she couldn’t stop looking at. Not hard to imagine herself in that woman’s shoes, naked on the couch while Lucas stood in front of her with a canvas and paintbrush.

  Artists used models all the time. No biggie, but something told her Lucas had other plans for her.

  “I’ll see you next Friday night, Grace,” Lucas said. “My address is right at the back of the card.”

  She spun on her heel. “I haven’t even agreed to this.”

  “We both know your answer.”

  Grace glared at him, about to tell the cocky bastard off when she caught the sound of footsteps by the stairwell. She thought she imagined hearing a sound going off. The next thing she knew, Lucas grabbed her arm and put himself in front of her. Rising on tiptoe, she peered over his shoulder to see what the commotion was all about.

  A man in a leather jacket sprinted toward them. Grace’s heart thudded as she spotted what was in his hand. A gun. She hadn’t imagined that sound at all. What the hell was happening?

  Chapter Three

  White-hot rage filled Lucas’s veins. He recognized the ugly bastard running toward him, gun in hand. Donny Castello. Fucking hell. Donny was a reminder Lucas couldn’t just walk away from his past. Behind Donny, he saw one of the gallery’s security guards, struggling to catch up to him.

  He took out his own revolver from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Lucas felt Grace’s hand, clutching at the back of his blazer. A witness. Lucas wished she didn’t need to see this side of him but too late. He raised his gun just as Donny fired again. The bullet lodged itself to the wall right of him.

  Donny’s bloodshot eyes told him the bastard was high on something. That or he was drunk. Lady luck was on Lucas’s side. He aimed the gun between Donny’s eyes then became aware of Grace’s body pressing up against him.

  With a sigh, he shot Donny in the left kneecap. The fucker let out a shrill animal-sounding shriek before dropping his gun. Grace let out a scream behind him just as the guard finally caught up and tackled Donny to the ground.

  Hatred blazed in Donny’s eyes. The guard managed to cuff Donny’s hands behind his back. The scum started sprouting obscenities at him as the guard hauled him to his feet. “One of these days, I’m going to get you, Lucas. The Severin Family can’t protect you anymore.”

  He gently pulled himself from Grace and walked up to Donny.

  “You can try,” he said then leaned in close to whisper in Donny’s ear. Donny flinched but the guard held him in place. “But the next time you pull a gun on me, I’ll shoot you in the other kneecap before putting more holes in you. I’ll miss all the vital spots. You’ll die excruciatingly slowly.”

  “You soulless fucker,” Donny whispered.

  Lucas looked at the guard. He knew this one. “Call the cops, Gerard. Ask for Officer Smith. He’ll know what to do with him.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Glass,” Gerard said, dragging a protesting Donny with him, leaving a trail of blood on the carpeting. Lucas would have to pay someone in the gallery to clean that off.

  Before Gerard pulled Donny into the elevator, Lucas finally saw Donny taking notice of Grace. The prick flashed him an ugly, yellow smile before the elevator doors hissed closed. He clenched his jaw and tucked his gun away.

  Good thing this floor was relatively empty, otherwise, it would be a pain in the ass to clean up this mess. The guests downstairs might’ve heard the gunshots but the music probably muted the sounds. The kind of people—the rich and elite, who came to these events and bought his paintings and usually thought of themselves as invincible—would never be touched by violence. They preferred to maintain that illusion.

  Lucas finally looked at Grace. She shook like a leaf. Lucas gathered her close. She tensed at first but chose to melt into his embrace. A perfect fit in his arms.

  “Hush, it’s all over now.”

  “I can’t believe that just happened. Did I imagine all that? It felt like I was in an action movie,” Grace whispered. “Are you even real?”

  “Do you think you’re dreaming?” He spun her by her shoulder so she could look at him.

  Lucas tipped her chin with his fingers. Her lips trembled. Lucas told himself he’d be a gentleman when it came to her, but that had never been him. He stole a kiss from those fuckable lips, pleased she clutched at his shoulders and responded in turn. Heat kindled in his dick and spread to the rest of his body.

  He pressed himself against her, wondering if she could feel his erection. He could feel her heavy breasts against his chest, and he suddenly wanted her naked. Bared for him completely.

  Lucas deepened the kiss, liked that she sucked down on his tongue. He had to pull away before his primal instincts to rut her like an animal kicked in. Lucas didn’t give a fuck they were still in the gallery and there were cameras watching.

  If this went on any further, he’d fuck her right against that wall, next to that painting of a horse. Lucas bet she wouldn’t fight him. She’d submit and yield to him beautifully like her name. With grace. Once she had a taste of him, she’d never crave or want another man again.

  He would make sure of that.

  She panted, her lips still swollen from their earlier kiss. Grace looked dazed. He wanted to capture that look forever in paint so he could look at it over and over again.

  “Forget about what happened here,” Lucas told her. “The police will take care of that bastard.”

  Clarity returned to Grace’s hazel eyes. This woman was sharp, smart. Lucas approved. “That man tried to kill you.”

  Shock reflected in her features. “Who was he? Why did he—”

  Lucas pressed a finger to her lips to silence her, then kissed her again. “No more questions, at least for tonight. I’ll see you next week, Grace.”

  He released her and walked toward the elevator. Lucas needed to tidy some things up. To phone his contact at the station and give Marco Severin a call. He might no longer answer to the head of the Familia, but he owed them a heads-up.

  “You assume I’d still come to your studio after seeing that,” she stated.

  A lesser woman would’ve fled but not her. Lucas remembered Grace digging her fingers into his back. She stayed put when she could’ve run. His Grace had hidden steel in her spine, which only made her perfect for him.

  Tonight might have not gone as he wanted, but Donny trying to kill him had its upsides. He’d managed to snare Grace. Before Donny’s attack, there had been a fifty-fifty chance she might turn up at his studio next Friday. Now that chance rose to a hundred.

  She was curious. About his art. Everything about him. He felt the same way. Lucas normally didn’t let a witness to one of his crimes walk but he had a feeling Grace wouldn’t tattle what happened here to anyone else.

  Lucas placed his hands inside the pocket of his trousers just as the elevator doors opened. “I know you will.”

  He entered the elevator, chuckling at the frustrated groan she made.

  ****

  Lucas returned to his studio after his meeting with Grace. Once inside, he turned on the switch to his studio. Although he had a separate apartment, Lucas slept here most of the time. Lucas had two unfinished canvases. Rough sketches were scattered all over the floor.

  His skin prickled. Lucas was about to reach for his gun again when a familiar voice stopped him.

  “Been waiting for you. You spoke to the cops?” Matthias Severin had taken a seat in his dining area. As usual, Matthias wore the hood of his jacket up, but Lucas could clearly see the harsh scars bisecting his face.

  “The Familia’s Bogeyman. To what do I owe this honor?” he asked drily. Lucas wasn’t surprised word about Donny’s piss-poor attempt at his life already reached the ears of the Familia.

/>   Matthias clenched his jaw. “Came to check on you.”

  “There’s no reason to. I’ve handled it.” Lucas stopped by the fridge, grabbed two beers, and handed one to Matthias before taking the seat opposite him.

  “I heard there was a witness.”

  Lucas sat rigid in his seat. “Let me guess. Gerard’s under the Familia’s payroll.”

  No wonder Gerard didn’t react when he shot Donny in the knee. Matthias waited. Lucas took a long pull of his beer. Ever since they were children, Matthias always looked out for him. They stopped talking after the incident. Then again, Matthias withdrew from most members of the Familia after he got those scars.

  “The woman’s not a problem,” Lucas said. “She won’t talk.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “I didn’t kill Donny.”

  “Is she the reason why?” Matthias asked, point-blank.

  He blew out a breath. “Maybe, but like I said. I got it handled. I’m no longer part of the Familia, so—”

  “Bullshit,” Matthias interrupted. The big bastard scowled at him. “The same blood runs in your veins, Lucas, whether you like it or not. You’ll always be family.”

  “I’m a grown man. We’re no longer kids. I can take care of myself.” Lucas sounded a little defensive to his ears, but he needed to make his point across.

  Hell, Matthias knew he was one of the best at what he did. He cleaned up the Familia’s messes, paid his dues. All Lucas wanted was to live out his new life. To focus on his art.

  “Marco and I respect your decision to withdraw from the life, but our enemies don’t see it that way.”

  “I knew the risks when I got out,” he said.

  There were no avoiding incidents like the one with Donny. After all, Lucas had been responsible for gunning Donny’s brother down months ago. No avoiding casualties in a territorial gang fight. A hitman understood the cycle of revenge. Lucas knew sooner or later his sins would come back to haunt him.

  Killed or be the killer. Lucas used to live and breathe this life. Sometimes, he missed it. Lucas ached to hold a gun on his hands, to feel that power buzzing through his veins again. They were kings of the city. They did whatever the fuck they wanted, and the law didn’t apply to them. Everyone knew messing with the Severin Familia would have drastic consequences. Only the foolish crossed them.

  That wasn’t him anymore.

  Matthias studied him for a few moments. “Fine. I’ll leave you to it.”

  “What are you going to tell Marco?” he asked as Matthias finished his beer in one gulp.

  “There’s nothing to worry about. In case shit hits the fan again, call me.” Matthias paused. “Take care, cousin.”

  Finally left to his own devices, Lucas finished his beer and remembered the taste of Grace’s mouth. The way her body felt against his. She burned hot, he remembered. Lucas bet if he slipped his hand under her dress, he’d find her wet for him. He couldn’t wait for Friday to arrive.

  Chapter Four

  Grace didn’t know what she was doing here, standing in front of his apartment. She hadn’t told anyone, even Sadie where she was going. Her best friend was going to freak out if she found out Grace had a date with Lucas Glass. That wasn’t even his last name. He told her so.

  “Not a date. He just wants to paint you,” she told herself.

  Grace touched her lips, remembering the demanding way he plundered her mouth without apology. Like she was a conquest. Just thinking about Lucas’s mouth on hers, his body crushing hers, made her tits harden under her sweater.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Lucas told her she’d be here no matter what happened. He was right. Grace felt reckless, wild, unlike herself. A more sensible woman would’ve stayed away, avoided Lucas after seeing what he was capable of.

  Grace didn’t miss the fact Lucas nearly shot that man in the face. She remembered him raising his gun. For a second, Grace thought Lucas would end that guy right there and then. His hand never shook. Lucas had a steady aim. At the last second, Lucas lowered the gun to shoot the guy in the knee. A perfect shot.

  Lucas knew how to handle a gun, held it like it was merely an extension of himself. He wouldn’t have trouble restraining her, pinning her down with his big body. She could already imagine his warm breath against his ear. He didn’t need to speak. His body would do that for him and so would hers.

  Lucas would take and take but she was willing to give. To surrender. To let herself be owned by a dangerous man who led two lives. No matter how many times Lucas would claim he was only an erotic artist, she knew better. Grace had seen how he held that gun, as tightly as any lover.

  Grace didn’t understand why her heart started to race. All her life, she tried to hide the taint that lived inside of her but times like this, it escaped, seeking air. Just like she did by coming here.

  She felt foolish, standing in front of Lucas’s door. One of his neighbors might come out and wonder what the hell she was doing. She took a deep breath, about to raise her fist to knock, but he beat her to the punch and opened the door.

  “I got sick of waiting for you to knock,” Lucas said with a smile. Tonight, he had dressed down in a plain white shirt and worn-in blue jeans. No shoes. He was bigger than she remembered. Lucas held the door wider. “Come on in.”

  Abandoning her doubts, Grace entered the apartment and glanced curiously around. It was exactly how she imagined an artist’s place would appear—messy, with canvases, sketches, and tubes of paint on the floor.

  “Sorry, didn’t get a chance to clean up,” Lucas said, closing the door behind him.

  He seemed to take his time studying her. She exchanged Sadie’s tight little number for a sweater, jeans, and boots tonight. She felt more comfortable in her own clothes, more like herself.

  “I didn’t know what to wear,” she blurted.

  “What you’re wearing is fine. I’ll need you to take them off, anyway.”

  Of course. What was she thinking? All of Lucas’s paintings were of naked men and women. She knew that. Grace had to get a grip but being here alone with him seemed to kill more of her brain cells.

  Lucas moved toward her. She suddenly felt naked, completely bared against his unapologetic, heated gaze. It was him she thought of when she slipped into the covers of her bed and touched herself night after night. Grace hadn’t understood what it was like to lust after a man. To feel primal attraction. Now she did.

  She cleared her throat. “Where do you want me?”

  “Over here. I plan to sketch you first.” Lucas opened a door at the far end of the room, revealing another one.

  He held the door open for her and she stepped in. This must be where his models posed for him. The colors were warm shades of beige and brown, the furniture comfortable. There was a couch here, armchairs. The walls were lined with mahogany shelves containing books. Pleasure filled her at the sight of them. Grace walked up to the closest shelf and ran her fingers across their spines.

  Books related to art and history.

  “You’re not what I expected,” she told him.

  Lucas appeared by her side, two wine glasses in his hand. She accepted one and took a sip. White wine. It tasted expensive.

  “What did you expect?” he asked.

  “Someone who’s not you,” Grace answered lamely. “I’ve been to my share of art exhibits, thanks to my friend, Sadie. She’s into the whole art scene. I usually loathe going to these events.”

  “And yet you came to my exhibit.” Lucas didn’t seem disappointed by her words.

  “Sadie needed a wingman. Wingwoman, I guess. She goes to these things to hook-up—but I don’t do that,” Grace said quickly.

  “I believe you.” Lucas finished his drink.

  “Why?” Grace spun to face him, spilling a bit of wine on her hand. “Because I don’t seem like that type?”

  What the hell was he implying? What scared her most was the fact this man could easily read her like an open book. Lucas must think she w
as a good girl who was way over her head when it came to him. He wasn’t wrong. She knew this man was way out of her league, but she’d come here anyway. Grace wanted to feel the same way she felt when they parted last Friday. Different. Reckless.

  Lucas smiled. “I know her type. There are thousands, millions of girls like her, but you? You’re one of a kind.”

  Her heart beat faster at those words. “You know nothing about me.” She took a sip of her drink then set it down on the nearest table. Unlike Sadie, she couldn’t hold her drink. It was fine if she was alone in their apartment, about to pass out on the couch from the carb overload and alcohol, but here, with him, Grace needed to be on her guard.

  “I see more than what’s on the surface. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

  Grace wished his words didn’t get to her, but they did. She should drop this topic right now. Get to why they were both here, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What do you mean? That I’m not being honest with you?”

  “You can probably guess I’m not an ordinary man. I gave my contact at the police station a call and dug up some files on you. On your old man.”

  A chill went down her spine.

  Lucas continued, “You grew up in a single-parent household. A dad. A cop. He was probably too busy, so you probably raised yourself. He died when you were eighteen during a drug bust that went wrong.”

  Every muscle in her body froze in place.

  “Your dad’s police pals spoke highly of you. Said you were a good girl who never broke a single rule.”

  Her emotions must’ve shown on her face because Lucas said, “You hate being called that.”

  “Is that how you see me? Naïve? Innocent?” she demanded.

  Lucas set his glass down and cupped her cheek. Grace didn’t know why, but she leaned into his touch like a greedy little kitten. The right thing to do would be to slap his hand away, tell him she’d changed her mind about this entire thing. She could walk out his front door and see if he’d stop her, but if he didn’t, she’d always wonder about tonight.