Page 109 of Chicago Sin

“Welcome.” Her voice is hushed and respectful, like we’re in a church. “How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Angelo. Tell him it’s Mando, Don Pachino’s nephew.”

I see recognition and curiosity glint in her eyes. Definitely a family business. She’s not just some receptionist—she knows the organization.

“Of course,” she says smoothly. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

A few moments later, a short balding man in his sixties comes out from a room down the hall, tugging the lapels of his suit jacket closed around his protruding belly. He holds out his hand like I’m an old friend. “Mando, what can I do for you?”

“Yeah. Can I go back?” I lift my chin toward his office.

He only falters for a second. He’s a little nervous, but I doubt he’s done anything to warrant fear of the Family. The greeting was warm, just perplexed. “Of course, come on back.”

I follow him back and sit down across from his desk as he straightens a pile of papers. “I know you’re the mortuary of choice for my family, so thank you for your service over the years.” I’m fucking rusty at greasing wheels—real rusty. But this is for Hannah, so I’m gonna make it work.

Angelo bobs his head, still concerned. “Of course, anything for Don Pachino and his family members.”

“I’ll get right to the point. You order flowers for the caskets? When people don’t have their own florist or don’t want to do it themselves?”

“Yes.” The word holds a question.

I push a stack of Hannah’s cards across the desk. “I’d like you to order through this business—as a favor to me.” I tap the stack. This is how deals get done in La Famiglia. I don’t ask—I tell. But then I call it a favor.

Up to him if he wants to question whether he has to do it or if it’s a polite request.

Nah, fuck that. Even polite requests get followed when you’re dealing with the Pachinos.

Do I wonder if Don G would be pissed I’m throwing around his name to help the girl I’m fucking? Only a little. If he gets pissed, I’ll take the heat. I didn’t think it merited begging permission before I went in. I’m not killing anyone here. Just making a business deal.

Angelo picks up one of the cards and looks it over. “I’d be happy to.”

There. Easy as that.

I stand up. “Appreciate it.” I stand up and shake his head. “I’ll show myself out. Buona giornata.”

“Buona giornata,” Angelo says to my back.

I don’t look back.

When I get home—well, to Hannah’s home, but it feels way more like mine now than that empty fucking apartment with all my old shit that I can’t go back to—I find her in the shower.

I strip out of my clothes and join her for another fuck-fest.

Because putting my dick in Hannah is pretty much the only thing worth living for at this point.

“Hey,” she says, welcoming me to join her.

I’m not in the mood to talk. I’ve spoken more words today than I care to. Right now, I have one goal in mind. I flip Hannah around, placing her palms on the shower tile.

“Stick your ass out,” I demand.

Hannah does as she’s told, knowing that I like it when she’s submissive like this.

She’s so wet that my cock slides into her with ease.

The heat from the water turns us on, and we fuck with reckless abandon. She’s making these little mewing noises, and her moans are loud as I ram my cock into her.

“Fuck yeah,” I growl. “Just like that.”