Page 23 of Caruso (Vegas Mafia #3)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Taylor

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I must be a whore because it didn’t take me long to assess the situation.

This is our time. I knew it was coming. The brothers have made no secret in the past week about their intentions.

I am a fascinating object to them. One that will be shared equally, and I wondered when that would happen.

The past week with Matteo has been the happiest of my life, and yet there has been an undercurrent of darkness that flows like a waterfall over a ravine.

The way his brothers devour me with their eyes when I enter a room. The indifference Tommaso shows toward me, pretending he isn’t interested. The hunger in Giorgio’s eyes as he follows my every move and the resignation in Matteo’s eyes as he accepts their interest.

I’m good with interest because I share it. Three very different brothers, all powerful in their own way.

I’m good with sharing, for now anyway, because right now I am the happiest I have ever been in my life .

Matteo told me last night that he would be away for two days and Giorgio would take care of me. He was concerned; it was obvious the way he fucked me long into the night. Almost desperate, marking me as his, worrying that things will change between us and yet accepting the inevitable.

Now I am taking charge of the situation—no victim here, and as I kiss Giorgio, it feels different somehow.

Matteo is and always will be mine. I accept that.

We have an unbreakable bond because of what he did.

He made me a woman, and that woman is his.

But Giorgio is the wild side of my soul.

The unpredictable, shocking, side and I can’t wait to explore that madness with him.

To crawl inside and see what makes him the man he is.

To let my crazy out and discover why I understand him more than I should.

I pull away and smile sweetly, running my finger down his face as I whisper, “What have you got for me, Giorgio?”

He smirks, desire heavy in his eyes. “Madness, little one. Complete and utter chaos if you like.”

“I can’t wait.”

I slip from his lap, and he huffs with frustration.

“Go and change and meet me here in ten minutes. We’ll pay our captive a visit before heading out.”

“Out?” My eyes widen. I haven’t been out since the day I went home. For some reason, I’m nervous, and he grins.

“You could use some fresh air, and I have something I want to show you. ”

“What should I wear?”

“Casual. Jeans, sweatpants, whatever you like.”

He grins. “Matteo is all about the designer suits and portraying a certain kind of image. I’m not. I prefer to merge into the shadows without any attention. Blend in with society and slide under the radar.”

“Okay.”

I’m excited, and it must show in my expression because he chuckles softly.

“Ten minutes, Taylor, and if you’re late, I’ll punish you.“

“Punish me?” I raise my eyes. “Why do I like the sound of that?”

His laughter follows me as I leave the room, and as I race to mine, my heart is beating so fast it almost gets there before me. I’m leaving The Artemis. Not in a fancy helicopter or private plane. On foot, at least I think we are, so one thing’s for sure, heels are not an option.

When I head back to the living area, Giorgio is waiting and is dressed casually for once. Black jeans, a tight black t-shirt that accentuates the muscles on his chest and shows off his biceps.

Where Matteo is more polished–refined even, Giorgio is rougher, more streetwise and wears his brutality like a badge of honor. His cruel dark eyes match his slightly shaven head, his rough jaw smooth but bearing battle scars .

He moves like a black panther, every well-crafted muscle working in unison, flowing like a beautiful living sculpture. His fingers adorned with silver rings, the expensive watch on his wrist daring a thief to even try.

Brutal beauty and all man with a deadly attraction. The rougher side of life—dark and deliciously fucked.

His eyes burn into me as I enter the room, taking in the black velvet ski pants and black camisole I’m wearing.

I pulled on ankle boots with a low heel for once, for which my feet are extremely grateful.

A light, black baseball jacket made of silk is enough to disguise my figure under it, and for once I tied my hair back into a sleek ponytail.

His eyes signal their approval, and he holds out his hand.

“Are you ready, little one?”

“Of course.”

I reach for his hand as natural as breathing, and as we head back down the hallway, my heart beats with excitement.

Giorgio’s playroom is unconventional but suits the man perfectly. There is a chill in the air as he opens the door; the low moan of his guest greeting us as we step inside.

It’s dark in here, almost black, and yet there is one single spotlight trained on the man hanging from the wall. My breath hitches as I regard him covered in blood, the word ‘thief’ spelled out across his bare chest .

He groans as we approach, and Giorgio laughs softly. “Ah, he’s awake at last.”

He turns to me and says almost casually. “Meet Oscar Duran, baby. He decided to try his luck in a different way. It didn’t work out well for him, as you can tell.”

“Please.” A low moan comes from the man as he begs for his freedom. “I’ve paid back the money. I can get more, just please let me go.”

“Go?” Giorgio shakes his head. “Of course I will let you go.”

“Thank God.”

Oscar heaves a huge sigh of relief, and then Giorgio says casually, “But the fact remains you tried to steal from us. The Carusos and I must now send a message to any other thief who believes they have that right.”

He grasps the man’s hand and turns to me. “I am a man of my word, and this man will walk free, but at a cost, a warning if you like.”

My eyes widen in shock as Giorgio snaps the man’s wrist as if it’s a twig, causing him to scream in pain.

Giorgio holds my eyes with his the entire time, and it’s strangely erotic.

The spotlight is trained on his manic eyes, and my heart rate spikes as he casually lifts the other one and does the same, Oscar’s cries heart wrenchingly beautiful as he pays for his sin.

Giorgio‘s velvet eyes drag along my body, causing me delicious shivers, and he whispers, “You want your freedom, Oscar. It will be yours, but not now. I have a prior engagement I can’t be late for, so I will leave you to enjoy your pain for a little longer with a promise.”

He grips one broken hand and twists it hard, causing Oscar to scream in pain, and Giorgio adds, “You will leave with only one hand today. I am keeping one as a souvenir in a jar as a warning to the next thief who walks through my door and decides to take from me. Think about how that will hurt when I saw the bone from your skin and your blood drips from your body. How weak you will be, unable to do the simplest tasks anymore, even drive. You will be maimed, scarred and rue the day you walked into this hotel and decided stealing was a good idea.”

Oscar is sobbing, broken mentally as much as he is physically, and Giorgio shrugs, turning away, angling his head toward the door.

“Shall we leave him to process his new life angel?”

I nod, my mind shifting between forgiveness and revenge, and as we leave Oscar sobbing through his pain, I decide to plead on his behalf.

“Will you carry out your threat?”

“Of course.”

“But it’s so barbaric.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

I’m shocked when Giorgio spins me up against the wall and I witness the madness burning in his eyes as he hisses, “That man deserves to lose more than just his hand.”

“For stealing? ”

I refuse to show fear as he grips my neck and holds me hard against the wall.

“For raping a child.”

“What?”

My eyes widen as Giorgio hisses, “When security entered his hotel room, they found a young girl tied to the bed. She was twelve years old.”

I am disgusted as he hisses, “It turns out he used the cash he stole to bid in an auction and she was his prize. He brought her back to the hotel and, luckily for her, my security team interrupted his reward.”

I feel sick as I picture what could have happened to her. “Where is she now?”

“We did the right thing and handed her over to the authorities. I told them that Oscar must have slipped town, which means I get retribution in a more brutal way. He won’t be buying any kids in the future when I have finished with him because, my darling, his hand won’t be the only body part I take from him. ”

His words wash away any compassion I had for Oscar and light my interest even further in my brutal hero. That is what he is to me — a man who dishes out tough justice far better than any judge or jury.

Imagining men like Oscar ruining young girl’s lives causes the beast to sharpen her claws inside me. As Giorgio stares into my eyes, an understanding passes between us, and I’m almost sorry when he drops his hand from my neck and says huskily, “Now, follow me.”