Elena and I sit in a booth by the window.

The ride on the motorcycle has messed up her hair somewhat, but she’s still perfect. The sunlight hits her rich, warm, burnished brown hair in a way that makes it appear like a big, soft halo.

She really does look like an angel.

Too bad I’ll have to clip her wings.

“What?” Elena asks as she lifts her gaze up from her drink.

“Nothing. Just wondering when it was that you turned into a young lady and why I didn’t notice.”

That’s not completely false. Elena has changed a lot from the awkward teenager I remember from the days when I used to hang out with Matteo all the time.

She blushes, which makes her look even more adorable. She goes back to skimming the whipped cream off the top with her plastic straw. When she lifts up the cream-covered straw and licks it clean, my cock stirs in my jeans.

Fucking hell. Does she know what she’s doing to me? How can a woman be so sexy and look so innocent at the same time?

I glance at the next booth where chauffeur and the bodyguard, who tailed us here, sit. Poor bastards. What did they do to get assigned as the princess’ babysitters?

And more importantly, how do I lose them?

“Was that your first time on a bike?” I ask Elena.

“Yeah,” she says shyly. There’s something about a girl experiencing something for the first time that’s fucking sexy.

The wonder in their eyes. The surprise. Being the one who opens up a new door for them makes me feel powerful.

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah. Can we do it again?” Elena’s eyes light up.

I chuckle. “You didn’t even want to do it the first time. What changed?”

She looks over her shoulders at her father’s men.

I use the opportunity to check out her tits. They sit high on her chest, defying gravity despite their size. People say more than a handful is a waste—luckily, I have big hands.

“I was just worried about them,” Elena says when she turns back around to face me. “But you were right. They were able to just follow us.”

Such a good, obedient girl. I can’t wait to corrupt her.

There’s something beautiful about ruining a perfect, delicate thing like Elena. I already know I’ll enjoy it, even if she hasn’t personally done anything against me.

Regardless of how I feel about her, this is the best plan I’ve come up with so far. And if I’m going to do something anyway, I may as well enjoy it.

“It felt good, right? To go against your dad for once in your life?” I ask, watching every, little micro-expression on her pretty face for clues.

Her green eyes twinkle with mischief, but it takes her a while to admit it. After a couple of seconds of silence, Elena says, “Yeah.”

I rest my forearms on the table between us and lean forward. In a conspiratorial voice, I say, “Want to do something even more fun?”

Elena nervously glances behind her again before she leans closer. “Like what?”

I’ve got her right where I want her. She may feel bad about it, but she’ll do what I want now. She no longer obeys her dad; she’s finding it more exciting to obey me.

“Don’t you ever want to go wherever you want without those two following you?” I ask, subtly gesturing at the booth behind her. “I mean, more people have way more privacy than you do. Hell, I’ve seen thirteen-year-olds who get more freedom than you do.”

Elena’s lips spread into a nervous smile. “I mean, my dad always says things are different for me and my siblings.”

“Sure,” I say. “But at the same time, young people test their limits, break the rules. If you play it safe all the time, before you know it, you’ll be old and gray, and you’ll regret it.”

Elena is silent. She tucks her hair behind her ear and bites her lower lip, seemingly falling into deep thought.

Was that too much?

Ah, it’s too late to worry about that. I’ll go for broke.

“This is your time to find out who you are,” I say. “I just don’t want you to miss out on that.”

“I know who I am,” she counters.

That sounds a little too defensive to be true. Have I hit a sore spot?

“Do you?” I raise a questioning eyebrow.

“Of course I do. I’ve known me for twenty-three years. I know me better than anyone else does.”

“You have no idea who you are, princess,” I tell her, doubling down.

“What makes you say that?” she asks, partly irritated and partly intrigued.

“Because it’s true,” I tell her. “All you know is how to be a princess and how to follow all your princess rules.”

“Oh, and you know who I am?’” Elena asks, frowning. It’s amusing to see her put on a brave act when it’s obvious this is something she’s insecure about.

It shouldn’t surprise me, really. This is the girl who has always been the good one. All good girls wonder what it would feel like to walk on the dark side.

“No.” I choose my next words carefully. “But I can help you figure that out, find out who you really are outside of your father’s cage.”

Anger sparks in Elena’s green eyes. She’s so damn fun to fuck with. Now I know why cats play with their food.

“I’m not living in a cage. I know who I am. Because I’ve had enough space to figure that out,” Elena insists.

“Have you, really?” I ask. “You’re twenty-three and you’ve got everything figured out?”

Elena hesitates. “Well, maybe not everything . . .”

I lower my voice. “Let me tell you a secret, princess. A secret about the way people treat you.”

She leans closer—just a fraction of an inch forward. But that means I’ve managed to pique her curiosity.

“Have you seen the way people change when they find out what your last name is?” I ask.

Elena nods.

It’s always best to start with a little bit of truth. It lends credence to everything else I say afterward.

“They start handling you with kid gloves. They’re scared to offend you. They don’t want to get in trouble with the notorious Guerriero family. Makes sense, right?”

Elena just stares at me for a second, making me worry I’ve lost her. But then she blinks her big, doe eyes, and I catch a glimpse of the loneliness inside.

“Yeah,” she says.

“A big part of learning about yourself is interacting with other people. And that just doesn’t happen the way it naturally should when you have a name like Guerriero attached to you. It’s like an armor. Keeps people out.” I stare straight into her eyes. This is it. This is the time to seal the deal. I’d better do this right. “You know what you need?”

“What?” she asks.

“You need to get out of your dad’s shadows. You need to meet people who don’t know—or don’t care—who your dad is. People who aren’t afraid of him.”

Elena’s eyes take on a faraway look. Is she thinking about all the ways people have alienated her? Is she thinking about how wrong I am?

Despite her innocent facade, Elena can be hard to read.

I’m pretty good at interpreting people’s non-verbal cues, but Elena seems to be able to close herself off on purpose. I guess growing up with a mafia dad and a horde of house staff who reports to him will do that to you.

“Aren’t you afraid of him?” Elena asks.

I chuckle. Evidently, we’re moving in the right direction.

“What do you think?” I ask her back. I want her to think she came up with her conclusions herself.

She observes me with her green eyes. “You wouldn’t have coaxed me to break the rules if you were.”

“It wouldn’t have been that easy to coax you into it if you didn’t want it that badly.”

Elena smiles. “I guess you’re right. It did feel good to do whatever I wanted for once, even if it went against what my dad would’ve wanted for me.”

I level my gaze at her. “It can feel even better.”

“How?” she asks, curiosity and excitement practically dripping from that one word.

“If you could move freely without being watched . . . If you could do anything you want, knowing word won’t get back to your dad about anything that happened . . . wouldn’t that feel better?”

Elena glances behind her again before she whispers, “I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Do they follow you everywhere? To every board meeting and every bathroom trip?” I gesture at the two men sitting in the booth behind her.

Elena shakes her head, making her ponytail swing from side to side.

I can’t help but imagine her silky hair wrapped around my fist as I pound her from behind, again and again, making her scream and pull on her restraints.

Fuck. Focus, man, I tell myself.

I ignore the tightening sensation in my pants. “There’s your answer.”

“But . . . You mean . . . I should . . .” Elena looks over her shoulder and in a barely audible whisper, asks, “You want me to just sneak away when they’re not looking?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said it,” I say.

A small smile plays on Elena’s lips as she considers the idea. She pouts a little, shooting me a flirty look as she asks, “But where would I go?”

Ah, the question I’ve been waiting for.

“Anywhere. We can go anywhere in the city. Or, hell, even outside the city if you can steal enough time. Worst case scenario, we can hang at my place,” I say matter-of-factly as if it’s not part of an elaborate plan to exact revenge on her dad but just a casual invitation to be naughty and play hooky together.

“Anywhere?” Elena asks, her eyes positively twinkling with exhilaration. She’s not trying to hide her attraction to me at all—probably because she thinks I want her for the same reasons she wants me.

Don’t get me wrong; Elena is a beautiful girl. Just the right amount of curves on that body. Pretty face. My cock is definitely interested in her.

But my plan comes first. It doesn’t matter how good she looks when she’s the daughter of an enemy. An enemy who has damaged and ruined my whole family forever.

Attraction is great. But it’s not important—not when there’s an opportunity to destroy Enzo Guerriero the same way he has destroyed me.

“Yeah. Anywhere,” I say.

Girls like Elena—they pretend they can, but they can’t resist a bad boy. This is a truth I’ve known since I scored my first pussy. Women still throw themselves at me all the time because I give them the freedom to be as bad as they want as well.

“I’m usually home when I’m not working,” I tell her.

That’s not completely true, especially now that I’ve got a couple of side businesses to run. But for Elena? I’ll stay home and wait however long it takes.

Lucky girl—it’s not something I’d do for most girls . . . although something tells me she won’t feel so fortunate once she realizes what I want to do with her.

“What if you’re not home?” she asks.

I grab the phone Elena has placed on the table. She jumps like she’s about to snatch it back, but then she changes her mind and just watches as I enter my number.

Sliding the phone back across the table, I tell her, “Call me when you manage to ditch your dad’s men. I’ll show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Having successfully delivered my pitch, I lean back in my chair and act like I don’t care what she does next.

After all, I already know she’s coming—in more ways than one.