You shouldn't be here, I thought as I stepped into Roman's bedroom.
You didn't have to be an avid viewer of CSI or NYPD Blue to know that mobsters didn't let strangers into their inner circle, let alone their bedroom. But here I was, holding Boston's most notorious crime boss' hand while he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.
And what had happened back there at the club anyway? Wasn't this guy supposed to be some kind of massive scumbag murderer? So why was it that I felt more safe and secure around him than I did around Dante or any of the other girls?
Why was it that I felt like I'd been swept off my feet by a complete gentleman, rather than feeling like I'd just been bought like a s*x slave?
“White or black?” Roman asked. I realized I'd been so lost in my own though
