Palettes of Love: A Mafia Enforcer Romance: Mia's Dark Romance Short Reads, #1

By Mia Lombardi

My murals are kaleidoscopic riots of color, dreaming to life on this city'scanvases and captivating more than just admiring eyes. I never expected to ensnare the heart of Lorenzo—a powerful mafia kingpin whose very name paints the underworld in strokes of abject fear.

He saw in my vibrant swirls not merely beauty, but opportunity—the perfect fresh facade to launder his shadowed empires of crime and deception. I became his unwitting pawn, caught in artful webs of dodges and winks amid the darkness. Yet an unexpected masterpiece blossomed between us: an all-consuming love truer than any palette's hue.

In our world where every passionate brushstroke risks unveiling another lie, our genuine romance is the only truth. But Mia's vibrant hues survive the charcoal shades of criminality?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mia Lombardi
• Release date: Jan 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224523023

Book preview

Chapter One

Mia Bianchi had always believed in the transformative power of art. Her latest gallery, nestled in the heart of Sicily, was a testament to that belief—a once dilapidated villa now reborn through her vision. The whitewashed walls bore the colors of her soul, each painting a window into her world. Tonight, on the eve of her exhibit's grand opening, she found herself alone amongst her creations, her heart thrumming with anticipation and anxiety.

The villa, with its lofty ceilings and arched doorways, hummed with potential energy. Canvases stood like silent sentinels, awaiting judgment from tomorrow's crowd. Mia, with her hair pulled back and flecks of paint adorning her arms, moved through the space like a priestess in her temple. She adjusted lighting, straightened frames, and with each step, she whispered silent prayers for success.

Miles away, under the cover of Sicily's dusky sky, Lorenzo Baglioni, a name whispered with both reverence and fear, sat in the back of a black Mercedes as it glided through the countryside. His consigliere, a man whose face was etched with the wisdom and worries of his profession, spoke of new opportunities. The girl's gallery, he began, his voice a gravelly melody of strategy and caution, could be the perfect front.

Lorenzo listened; his mind painting pictures of ledgers masked as art sales. But it was not just business that steered his car towards Mia's villa; it was curiosity, a rare feeling that stirred in his chest like an unsheathed blade.

The night of the exhibit, the gallery swelled with the island's elite. The air was perfumed with anticipation, expensive cologne, and the subtle scent of oil paint. Mia floated through the crowd, her dress a cascade of cobalt blue; her smile was a beacon in the sea of faces. She was the embodiment of grace, yet beneath her poise, trepidation clung to her like a shadow.

And then he entered.

Lorenzo, his presence commanding the room's attention, moved with an assurance that came from power unchallenged. His eyes, dark as the Sicilian olives, scanned the gallery until they found her. Mia felt his gaze like a physical touch, a brushstroke against the canvas of her skin.

Their conversation began as a dance of words around the subjects of art and passion. He spoke of the pieces with an unexpected insight, his comments weaving through the technical and the emotional with ease. She was drawn to the depth she found in his eyes, feeling an attraction that was as much a surprise to her as the nervous flutter in her stomach.

As they discussed the abstract strokes and the vibrant hues, Mia explained her choices, her techniques, the part of her soul that each painting represented. Lorenzo listened with an intensity that made her feel seen, truly seen, and not just by any man, but by a force of nature cloaked in the guise of a suitor.

The emotion in this piece, Lorenzo said, gesturing towards a riotous explosion of reds and oranges, it's almost palpable.

It's meant to be felt, Mia replied, her voice a mix of pride and vulnerability. Art should move you, change you in some small way.

Lorenzo's eyes locked onto hers. I couldn't agree more, he murmured, the subtext of his words hinting at a desire to be moved by more than just the art.

As the night pressed on, the two of them created their own private exhibition within the exhibit. Each glance, each word, each shared smile was a stroke on a canvas only they could see. And when the time came for him to leave, Lorenzo approached her once more.

I'd like to purchase a piece, he said, his voice low and confident.

The exhibit concludes at the end of the week, she informed him, professionalism veiling her disappointment at the end of their interaction. I can hold any piece you're interested in until then.

Lorenzo took a step closer, his decision made. I'll take 'The Embrace'. It has... captured my attention.

Mia's breath caught in her throat. 'The Embrace' was a daring piece, two figures locked in an intimate hold, the colors bleeding into one another, indistinct yet full of passion. That he chose this painting was no coincidence. It was a silent acknowledgment of the palpable chemistry between them.

As he handed her his card, his fingers brushed against hers—a spark, a promise, a tether pulling her towards a world she knew nothing about. In that touch, Mia felt her life pivot on an axis she hadn't known existed.

I look forward to adding it to my collection, Lorenzo said with a finality that felt like a beginning.

The gallery's doors closed behind him, leaving Mia surrounded by the whispers of the departing crowd and a sense of foreboding that battled with the fluttering excitement in her heart. Lorenzo Baglioni, the man with the eyes of a storm, had walked into her gallery and left a tempest in his wake.

And though the rational part of her brain cautioned her, the artist—the dreamer—within couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be the subject of his attention, the canvas on which he chose to leave his mark.

As the night bled into the early hours of the morning and