Page 16
Chapter Sixteen
CRUE
I shouldn’t have done this.
Any of it.
Drilling Fiametta’s mouth and putting her in her place is one thing, but slipping a sex toy into her wet cunt while I’m sitting at a table full of men who want my head on a pike is pretty ballsy, even for me. Lorenzo may not know I’m the man he’s hunting, and Matteo might think we’ve formed a kinship beyond our original agreement, but how long will I survive if either of them finds out that this is all just an act?
My instincts tell me to run. They’re not just saying it, they’re screaming it at deafening volumes. I didn’t come here with Matteo, so I can make my escape whenever I need to. But I can’t pull myself out of this chair. Not while I thumb my cellphone in my pocket and know what delights are hidden inside Fiametta.
I’m risking a lot by taking this game further with my Little Flame, but I’m a risk taker by nature. Realistically, the chances of Fiametta’s having an outburst are slim. She’s going to fight back her urges to squeal at the wonderful sensations vibrating in her core, to avoid raising Lorenzo’s suspicion that something else might be happening here.
If she does, his first thought won’t be that she’s harboring a remote-controlled toy, either. Besides, when will I ever get a chance to have fun like this again? It’s not as if I’m going to be a staple at these meetings, especially not once Fiametta has met my blade. I should make the best of the time I have.
A few minutes go by before Fiametta returns to the table. She’s carrying a tray in both hands, with four empty whiskey glasses, a carafe of amber liquid in the center, and two gin and tonics with mint and lemon.
My, my, she listened. It almost feels wrong to pull my phone out of my pocket and press the icon that turns on the metal egg inside her. But I do it anyway, just as she crosses the threshold of the door, and I watch as the tray nearly goes flying over the self-important cunts of New York.
“S… sorry it t… took me so long,” she stammers her apology. If she can’t hold herself together on the lowest setting, what’s going to happen when I make it rattle harder? “I needed to freshen up on the way.”
Freshen up.
A nice way of putting clean the cum, tears and spit off my face. Apart from a single missed spot of blotchy mascara next to her eye, Fiametta did a good job. But I preferred the look of a cum starved cocksucker over daddy’s little princess.
I turn the device off as she glares at me with narrow eyes and places the tray on the table. It was just a nudging reminder that I’m still in control.
“I can appreciate your concerns, Matteo,” Lorenzo says, ignoring Fiametta’s apologies and continuing the conversation they were having while we waited for her. “But I’m afraid sharing that section of the city is not something I can do.”
Matteo chuckles sardonically and shakes his head. “You misunderstand me. I have no intention of sharing.” He’s the first to lean over and pour himself a drink since no one else will. Matteo is ruthless and he’s letting it shine bright at this table. “You asked me here to negotiate a solution to your problem, and here I am, negotiating.”
“You talk a pretty big game when you don’t know if this killer, or organization, or whatever the hell it is, plans on putting you in their crosshairs.” Lorenzo’s so angry I can almost see the cartoony plumes of steam rushing out of his nose.
“He might, but something tells me that if he hasn’t already, it’s not going to happen,” Matteo’s eyes shift between Lorenzo and Tomas.
Don’t count your chickens, pal. Keep pissing me off and all bets are off.
I turn my attention back to my phone and start fidgeting with the various controls. Some have letters, others have numbers, but none of them give me an actual indication of what I’m doing.
The only icon that’s clear is the big circle in the center. It’s the on and off switch, and if I roll my finger over it, the speed changes. I glance at Fiametta and watch how she’s trying to force the sensations building inside her to stop. She’s gnawing on the inside of her cheek, breathing in slowly to find her inner peace.
Not gonna happen.
“Negotiations are a give and take thing. There has to be something else you want, so why don’t we skip the bartering and jump straight to the point.” Lorenzo’s arrogance knows no bounds. Every time he opens his mouth, fury grips my heart. Just because I’m having fun with his daughter, doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what he has done to me. And although I hate giving Matteo credit for anything, he was right about this meeting putting me back onto my task.
However, I find the longer I sit in their company, the less interested I am in killing Fiametta. I’d rather focus my attention entirely on her piece of shit father, and his dog, Tomas. They’re the ones who deserve it.
“I’m offering you an opportunity to stop the violence before it begins. All it’s going to take is your loosening up some of your control over the East End.” Matteo clears his throat and pours two fingers of whiskey into a tumbler. He hands it to his second in charge, who’s name I still don’t know, before pouring another for himself.
“Some?” Lorenzo puts a finger under his chin and his voice softens.
“Yes, of course, not the entire district. That would be cruel,” Matteo answers.
My eyes return to Fiametta, who is now showing more visible signs of her distress. Her eyes are closed shut, and she’s clinging onto the tablecloth as though her life depends on it. I wish I could see inside her mind. See how my torment is tearing her up, and how the thrill of it is pushing her to the brink of climax around these stuffy old bastards.
“Girl,” Tomas’s voice cuts through the tension the two don’s conversation brought. He leans behind Lorenzo and pats Fiametta on the shoulder, before saying. “Stop twiddling your thumbs and pour our drinks.”
An unnerving fury brews in me as soon as he opens his mouth. I have to physically restrain myself from smashing Tomas’s face in with the carafe that is sitting a few inches away. It would be so satisfying, too. Watching him squirm in fear, the same way he made Fiametta feel last night.
I wouldn’t kill him first. I’d take his tongue first for the utter disrespect. His fingers would be next, as a reminder not to lay a hand on what doesn’t belong to him. Finally, his eyes... not that there’s any real moral justification behind that. I could lie and say it’s because he looked at Fiametta, but I’d have to blind the whole damn planet if I wanted that one to be true. No, his eyes would be just for me. Merely for the thrill of watching a grown man scream.
And then there’s Lorenzo. Beyond his being a piece of shit, I’m starting to believe he’s a coward. Not only is he Fiametta’s dad, but he’s also a man, and he still can’t muster the backbone to stand up to the piece of shit who’s supposed to be second in command of this operation.
There’s something else at play here, that much is clear.
I direct my attention back to my cell phone, to avoid an unnecessary outburst. Toying with Fiametta is more fun, and it has a much higher chance of keeping me alive.
I adjust the big circle in the middle of the screen, and Fiametta utters the first sound that’s related to the toy. It isn’t a moan or a whimper, but a clumsy whoopsie , as her rattling hand messes whiskey over the tray.
“What are you doing?” Lorenzo roars, and my lazy gaze travels to him. “Christ, Fiametta, what’s gotten into you?” Before he can continue berating his daughter, Lorenzo’s attention snaps to me. “And you… are we boring you?”
“Excuse me?” I keep my voice low and calm, but never break my gaze.
“You heard me.” Lorenzo’s seething. He can’t keep his emotions in check. I suppose it’s difficult, when you’re being whipped by your biggest competition.
“You’d be wise to watch your tone, big man. Your title might scare everyone in this room. Hell, it might scare everyone in New York City, but it doesn’t mean a thing to me.”
I flick the button to switch the device off, as I pocket my phone and replace it with the folded dagger, I keep tucked next to it. I hadn’t planned on using it, but you can never be too careful walking into a den of vipers.
Getting into a fight here will surely mean certain death. For everyone at this table. But I won’t go down without a fight, that’s for damned sure.
“Christ, man, have you lost your mind?” Matteo hisses into my ear.
“I think it’s time I go.”
“You think?” Lorenzo scoffs. “You better hope I don’t see you again.”
“Sticks and stones,” I rise from my seat. “Fiametta, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I add, just to piss him off more.
I leave without another word to any of them. That could’ve gone better, but I’m sure Matteo will find a way to smooth things over. At least he was right about it focusing my mind on the mission. I’ve never wanted to see someone hurt more than I do Lorenzo Napoli.
Even if it’s at my Little Flame’s expense.