Page 13 of Corrupted Pleasure

His son, Basilio had approached me with the idea of a peace offering. The Italians in New York would stick to the east side of New York and the Irish to the west side. No more fighting and crossing sides. There had been too much blood spilled over the last twenty-two years. It had started with my sister and what Gio goddamn DiLustro had done to her.

Nothing would make me happier than to kill that motherfucker. And then pin it on the Russians. Kill two birds with one stone.

If I didn’t think it would escalate things, I’d take care of it myself. But keeping my family safe was my first priority. If something happened to me, it would leave them all vulnerable and I couldn’t let that happen. I knew Killian would step up, but he had his own ghosts to chase first.

Gio’s son and nephews had expanded the Syndicate. It now covered Chicago, Philadelphia, Las Vegas, and a good part of New York, much to my dismay. Basilio DiLustro ran New York, despite his father still being alive. He had a knack for business and had expanded his wealth significantly.

Basilio’s cousin Dante, Gio’s nephew from his brother’s side, ran Chicago while Dante’s brother ran Philadelphia. And then there was the kingpin who ran Las Vegas but whose identity I couldn’t uncover.

There was also their connection to the Ashford family which had been kept under the radar for the last two decades.

Though that part didn’t concern me. Gio DiLustro, on the other hand, did.

Tonight’s meeting was just between Basilio DiLustro and me to start ironing out the details. The young man was smart to recognize working with his father wouldn’t accomplish anything. Cruelty in our line of work was necessary but Gio relished in it. The fucking monster loved it, enjoyed torture and suffering. And he broke his women with a smile on his face.

It was a well-known fact.

A muffled laugh filtered through the upper floor and suddenly the music was turned up another notch.

It is going to be a long night, I thought to myself with a silent groan.

CHAPTER4

Davina

Juliette and Ivy took up most of the large bed, sprawled all over. Just like drunken sailors, they snored so goddamn loud, they’d wake the dead. And also, apparently, me.

It was almost midnight and I kept tossing and turning. Wynter snuck back into the house about an hour ago, took a shower and now crashed on the lounge sofa. Smart, considering sleeping with the two drunks in the bed was impossible.

“Wynter?” I called out in a whisper. No answer. She was sound asleep. No surprise, since she had been up since before the sun was up.

Turning over, I pulled on the blanket, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t sleep without covers over me. Damn drunks.

The constant humming of the heating unit should have calmed me, but instead, it made me antsy. My skin felt tight. The room was cool. You’d think the alcohol we’d consumed would keep me warm. No such luck. I should have gotten drunk like Juliette and Ivy. Now, I was seriously sober. And fucking cold.

I attempted to pull on the comforter again. It was like Juliette and Ivy had superglued it to the damn bed.

Sliding off the bed in a huff, I glanced around. Maybe there was an extra blanket around here somewhere. I peeked into the closet closest to the bed but found nothing. Then the other one; still nothing. Two closets in the room and no blankets.I should complain to management about how this place is run,I thought with a huff; I was getting colder by the minute. I needed to find a blanket that I didn’t have to wrestle monkeys to get.

Barefoot, I padded across the room, my feet silent against the soft rugs. Cracking the door open, I exited the room and crept down the hallway. The house was so eerily quiet, I could hear the wood floor creak every so often. Or maybe it was my imagination.

“Just looking for blankets,” I whispered to myself. The house was covered in darkness, the only light provided by the soft moon. Glancing around the third floor, I listened intently for any sounds. I heard nothing. It had to mean that Juliette’s father was gone.

I headed for the door at the end of the hallway. Maybe another bedroom would have spare blankets. Placing my hand on the door handle, I pushed on it and the door gently fell open. Peeking my head through, I found the room empty and dark.

A thick blanket lay on the large king-sized bed.

“Perfect,” I murmured. It was big enough to keep me warm all night. I tiptoed further into the room, tugging on the comforter when the sound of the shower registered.

I froze, my head snapping in its direction. The bathroom door was barely cracked open and the sound of water came from its direction.Somebodywas in the shower.

I swallowed hard as my pulse sped up in my chest and my breath caught in my throat.

Undecided, I stood there, my eyes glued to the bathroom door. The smart thing to do was to bolt, but no, I stood there staring in the direction of the bathroom like it was see-through glass. Maybe I hoped. Hell if I knew.

All I knew was that if I didn’t move, I was tempting fate by standing there.

“Fuck.” A groan sounded from the bathroom.Juliette’s father.I was sure that was his voice. An inferno burst through me, imagining him in the shower. Naked, wet, and big.