Page 14 of Bittersweet Endings (Agostino Crime Family #6)

CARMINE RAGETTI

I felt nothing. Just the boring and mundane weight of exhaustion and responsibilities pressing against my skull. Another night, another party, another goddamn parade of people who thought they knew me.

They didn’t.

Lorenzo was in his element, laughing too loud, throwing back drinks like the night was endless. He thrived in this world—the flashing lights, the half-naked chicks, and the rush of cheap highs.

He was loving it, but neither Matteo nor I were enjoying ourselves. We’d been splattered across the internet once more: the Ragetti party animals back on the scene . But none of it mattered; it wasn’t drawing the motherfucker out.

Matteo sat across from me, his jaw tight and his fingers drumming against his glass. His silence was louder than the music. The fucker could always see through whatever I was trying to do.

I tipped my drink back, the burn of whiskey doing nothing to shake the stress stuck in my brain. The women who pressed against me, the empty conversations, the quick nut. I was fucking over it.

Even worse, my balls ached because I’d been denying them. I was exhausted. Tired of the mask, the expectation, the charade that I could just sink into this world again and forget.

Forget my responsibilities. Forget the shit JP was doing. And worse, forget her .

My hand tightened around my glass. It was laughable, really. That after everything, after every sin I’d committed, the only thing that still haunted me was letting her go.

Someone called my name. A soft, sultry voice—one I should have cared about. I didn’t. I barely turned my head, already forgetting the face behind it.

Lorenzo grinned at me from across the table. “Now this is the Carmine I remember.” He laughed. “Make them crawl on their knees.”

I let the smirk curl my lips and the darkness settle in my eyes. I also let them all believe what they wanted. In reality, this blonde was nothing like the thick curves of my fantasies

Matteo just watched me, his stare heavy with something close to pity. And it was pissing me off. Soon, I’d send him to The Slabs to relieve Alessandro and babysit Eva.

The blonde in front of me was trying too hard. Cheap perfume, a dress meant to be a second skin, lips painted blood red but had stained her teeth. Her shitty friends urging her forward didn’t even try to warn her about how messy she looked.

As she leaned in, all breathy laughter and empty promises of giving me the best night of my life, I wanted to snarl in her face. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass, a slow, deliberate tease, her body angled just right to catch my attention.

I felt nothing. Nothing but annoyance .

She could have been anyone. Another faceless whore trying to crawl into my bed, trying to touch a part of me that didn’t exist anymore. My balls fucking whined at the prospect of another denial.

I let my gaze drift across the room. More of them. More women in tight dresses, their bodies lined up like offerings. But they had no fuckin’ clue what they were offering up. I could rip them apart with my bare hands and they’d willingly bleed across them.

It used to be easy. Mindless. A distraction at best. But nothing was the same anymore.

I let the blonde touch my arm, her nails dragging lightly over my skin. My stomach twisted into something close to disgust. Easy was so fuckin’ boring anymore.

This bitch wasn’t defiance that I could break into surrender. She wasn’t the heat and the violence that shredded my skin open. She wouldn’t lap at the blood dripping from my soul. Or better… be the cause of the bleeding. Not like a seductive brunette.

“Not in the mood?” The blonde’s voice was teasing, light, as if she thought she could fix that.

I turned to her, let her see it—the darkness barely restrained behind my eyes and seconds from traipsing across to hers.

It was a simple picture for her, the death she faced if she didn’t move the fuck on.

Because with someone like her, the need to please was all a facade.

She’d crumbled in my grasp. Finally, she caught wind of my anger and turned pale before backing away.

Smart girl.

Octavia would’ve faced me head-on. I’d be left bleeding and her ass would be red, but the sex would have been fire.

Matteo met my stare from across the table again.

Shut the fuck up, I said internally, turning back towards the room .

The club was alive, but the VIP section was a world apart—distant, untouchable. Just the way I liked it. From here, I could watch everything, see who was moving where, who was paying a little too much attention, who thought I was getting too comfortable.

Matteo exhaled sharply. “You know, everyone sees it.”

I barely glanced at him, my drink hovering near my lips. “Sees what?”

“That you’re the strong one. The future. Always have been.” He tipped his own glass towards me, like he was making a toast. “The one who’s going to take this family higher than it’s ever been.”

I smirked, the kind that didn’t reach my eyes. “You’re drunk. Or just plain stupid.”

Matteo had this way of staring through you as if he were trying to figure out what made you tick. If you were the enemy, it was to see how he could tear you apart.

“I’m serious, Carmine.” His tone was edged with something firm, something final. “JP’s reign is ending. And when it does, the family doesn’t just survive. It thrives.” He leaned forward, his eyes sharp. “Your hard work, dedication, and ferocity has followed you since we were kids.”

I stayed silent, taking a slow sip of my drink, letting the ice burn my throat. I knew what he was saying was true. The old man’s time was running out. And when he was gone, it was all mine. Every street, every deal, every goddamn throne the city had to offer.

But Matteo wasn’t finished.

“You don’t have to shut yourself off to do it.”

That made me pause.

“You think you have to kill every part of yourself to run this city, but you don’t.” His gaze darkened. “You want her? Take her.”

“Shut the fuck up.” This time, I said it aloud.

He leaned in, his voice low, lethal. “You and I both know there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to get what we want. So, let’s do it. Let’s burn that fucking city down. I’ll light the match myself if that’s what it takes.” He paused. “Wanting her doesn’t make you weak.”

My chest felt tight, the words settling deep, carving themselves into something restless inside me.

He sat back, tipping his drink up with an easy smirk. “We take it all, fratello .” His eyes glinted, full of fire. “And we don’t lose. Because. We. Never. Fucking lose. Together.”

I exhaled slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. Matteo was right. I didn’t have to lose. And for the first time in a long time, I actually smiled.

Until my phone vibrated against the table, the screen lighting up with her name.

Why are you such a fucking peacock?

I huffed a quiet laugh, my fingers tapping against the screen as I leaned back against the leather of the VIP booth. Sending her a question mark, her response was almost immediate.

Pea. Cock. Peacock. Strutting your blonde skanks around the nightclubs. ?

You drunk?

The dots popped up and disappeared. Hesitating.

Fuck off.

There was a pause and then:

Peacock!

I should’ve left it at that. Should’ve tossed my phone aside, gone back to ignoring the noise around me. Should’ve let her stew in whatever drunken irritation had her texting me in the first place.

Instead, I called her. Because the fact that she was digging into me made my dick hard. Stepping away from the table, I closed myself off to drown out the music.

She picked up on the third ring, her voice soft, slurred with sleep. “What?”

“That’s how you answer your phone? No hello ? No Carmine, I was just thinking about you ?”

She exhaled, slow, her breath brushing against the speaker. “Why’d you call?”

I let my head tilt back and stared at the ceiling. “You’re drunk, half-asleep, and thinking about me. Are you gonna dream about me too?”

A pause. A shift in the way she breathed. Then a quiet, hesitant: “Was it all a lie?”

Something inside me went sharp, something I didn’t like. I leaned forward, pressing my elbows to my knees. “No. You know that, little doll. It was all real. Every fuckin’ depraved part of you crumbling underneath me. How you wanted me. The sex was dirty. And you… fuckin’ ravenous.”

I could almost see her, curled up in bed, the way her fingers probably dug into the sheets. The way she was probably biting her lip, fighting whatever war was going on inside her.

“Get some sleep,” I murmured. “Tomorrow is one day closer to us both getting what we want.”

Her breath hitched. Then, just barely above a whisper, so quiet I almost missed it, she said, “…What if I want you?”

My fingers tightened around the phone. I let the silence stretch between us, let the words settle, let her feel it. Her sharp gasp echoed as Matteo opened the door, the phone filling with the background noise of the club .

“You son-of-a-bitch!” she barked into the phone. “Go have fun with your little blonde?—”

I chuckled. “Go to sleep, Octavia.”

I ended the call before she could say anything else. Because if I didn’t, I might’ve told her the truth. That I wanted her too. That I was going to come to New York. And I always took what I wanted.

“We’ve got issues,” Matteo said, and I scowled. “He’s still in New York. Lucky is flipping out.”

With that, my phone rang. I glanced down at the screen, but it wasn’t the Agostino I wanted to talk to. To fuck with. To put my hands on. It was her annoying older brother.

My voicemail almost answered before I picked up, Lucky’s voice already edged with irritation. I mocked him, laughing at his cursing.

“You really think this is funny?” He tried using the tone that probably made New York fall into line. But not me.

I smirked, leaning back in silence just long enough to piss him off. “A little.”

Lucky exhaled sharply. “You’re a fucking idiot, Carmine.”

“That’s Mr. Fucking Idiot to you, baby devil.” God, I hated his stupid il diavolo shit. I didn’t need a nickname to destroy cities.

There was a pause, then a low growl from the other end. “Keep calling me that and see what happens.”

I grinned at Matteo. “What? You’ll get all fired up? Burst into flames?” I tsked . “Send me to the fiery pits of hell you were born from? The fuck do you want wasting my time, Lucy? ”

Fucker didn’t take the bait, just turned to business. “Listen to me. If JP shows up at the gala, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“Hmm.” I pretended to think. “And? Sounds like a New York problem. ”

“You let him make a move in my city, there’s going to be bodies, Carmine. You think I want a war?” He paused. “I got my sister back and want your fucked-up family to stay on their own coast.”

I let out a low chuckle, bracing my elbow on the armrest. “You don’t want a war? That’s funny. Because last I checked, your family doesn’t control their own city.” I dropped my voice just enough to make my point sting. “Any more than you control mine.”

“Carmine—”

“Be prepared,” I cut him off. “He’s already there. He never left and probably isn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. I can’t control him any more than you can control your daddy.”

Lucky let out a string of curses, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. I hung up, the weight of what was about to happen settling into my chest.

Matteo was standing across from me, his arms folded. Already waiting. Lorenzo stumbled into the room, immediately sobering at the tension.

I met his stare. “Get our men ready.”

A slow smirk tugged at Lorenzo’s lips. “Where we going?”

I slid my phone into my jacket pocket and stood. “New York.”