Marked For Love (Mob Romance) by Cristina Grenier

her mother wear it. If anything, her father was worse. Not only did he gouge her for money, even when he had his own, but as she grew into a young woman, he began to wheedle her into accompanying him to events.
    While, at first, the young woman had hoped that her father was finally beginning to notice her value, she rapidly discovered that it was just to earn him for more patrons. At this point, he’d kept his business a secret from her for over twenty years, and she had continued to remain in the dark up until the point that Vicente had kidnapped her.
    Of course, she had some idea.
    When her father did have money, it was all in cash, and he was so tight-fisted with it that he could have starved a family of cockroaches. Grace had just begun to convince herself that she could live without him when she’d been taken.
    And now, her prospects weren’t much better
    It took the young woman a good week to spill the story in its entirety. While she began in the aftermath of Vicente’s mind-blowing exploitation of her body, Matteo and Gio returned much too early for her to be able to finish.
    While they were in the suite, Vicente reverted to the cold, distant man he’d been when he kidnapped her. She was left alone in her room for hours at a stretch. So much so that, a few times, she contemplated trying to escape.
    Trying to live.
    But ultimately, for the hour or so he was left alone with her every day, he would return to her. While he didn’t demand that she undress for him again, his expectant gaze told her exactly what he did want, and she would continue her story for him.
    Vicente listened in complete silence while she spoke. He asked no questions and interjected not once, even though Grace’s needy subconscious wanted more than anything for him to grab her and screw her brains out like he had their first day in Rome. That episode, she quickly realized, had been a gateway for something else.
    While she wouldn’t say that it had brought them closer, per say, it allowed her to talk to the man in a way she’d previously thought impossible – and allowed him to listen.
    On their eighth day in Rome, she finally finished her tale, and for at least a full minute, Vicente stared at her as he appeared to consider. Grace took the opportunity to sneak a peek at him – the sculpted muscles of his chest revealed by the tight t-shirt he wore tucked into expertly tailored, dark wash jeans. She remembered the way his mouth had tasted like hers – how he’d kissed her so insistently he’d drawn blood, and she wanted it again.
    “He will pay.”
    The young woman was jerked back to the present by Vicente’s low, accented tones. For a moment, she just stared, sure she’d misheard him.
    How could he possibly still think her father would pay, knowing what he now did?
    She struggled for words, incredulous. “How the hell do you figure? He hasn’t got any money!”
    “You said yourself that he did, upon occasion.”
    “And when he does, he doesn’t spend it on things he doesn’t think are worthwhile.” The admission hurt as it left her, but it was something Grace had come to accept a long time ago. “I’m not an investment to him. He’s barely spent ten dollars on me in his entire life, let alone five hundred thousand.”
    “He will pay.” Vicente reaffirmed, his gray eyes flashing in assurance. “A parent never realizes how much their child means to them until they lose her.”
    Somehow, this man still wasn’t listening to her. Giving him her body had allowed her to speak with him on the level, but it hadn’t gotten him to empathize with her.
    “What if he doesn’t, Vicente?” The words slipped from her before she could stop them, harsh and cutting even to her own ears. “What if he doesn’t pay for me? Then what? “
    The dark-haired man stared at her from where he sat on the edge of the bed, his expression inscrutable. “You had no problem saying it last week, so why not say it now: I die. Your boss, whoever he is,