Page 26

Adriano

I’m in the warehouse office today with my boots propped on the desk. My right arm throbs, stitched up and bandaged from Penelope’s knife slash two nights ago and the accident, but the pain feels good. Reminds me of all the things I could have lost that night. Just one thing actually. Her.

The place as usual stinks of rust and old cigarette smoke as Ralph drops a folder down, the papers spilling like guts across the wood. His scarred face twists, half pissed, half smug, his black hair in that stupid knot.

“Told you I’d find it,” he says, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “Vinny fucked with your tires. Sliced the rubber clean through on Henry’s orders. Probably laughed while he did it, the slimy prick.”

I snatch the folder, flipping it open. Photos stare back—Vinny’s shaky hands on my SUV, a grainy shot of him meeting Henry in some alley, passing cash.

My jaw locks tight. I shot that bastard’s brains out days ago, watched his blood paint the wall, and still, he nearly took me with him.

The crash replays in my head: tires bursting, metal screaming, glass biting my skin.

I taste blood in my mouth just thinking about it.

“Henry’s been busy,” Ralph keeps going, tapping his knee like he’s itching to hit something. “Been sneaking around under an alias, some bullshit name, ‘Paul Grayson.’ Holed up at the Regency Hotel. Guess who he’s been fucking cozy with? Ricci.”

That name lands like a punch. Ricci. The bastard who sent his goons after Penelope, who nearly broke her before I broke his men. Who I haven’t been able to find since. With his resources and influence, he has been under the radar for too long.

“Ricci’s supposed to be hiding. Licking his wounds.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not,” Ralph spits. “He’s plotting with Henry. New player, sure, but Ricci’s got the means, money, men, connections. If he links up with more of your rivals, you’re looking at a war we can’t win. Not now.”

I shove the folder aside, papers scattering, and stand up fast, chair scraping the concrete.

My rage boils. Henry’s a dead man—always was—but Ricci’s the bigger snake.

More power, more pull. If he rallies my enemies, I’m fucked.

My empire’s fucked. Penelope’s fucked. I pace around, picturing Ricci’s throat under my hands, his windpipe crushing slowly.

But I stop. Breathe. I need a plan, not a rampage. Not yet at least.

“I’ll gut Ricci first,” I say. “Henry’s a gnat. Ricci’s the one who’ll burn me down if I don’t move fast.”

Ralph nods. “Smart. Hit the head, the body drops.”

“Get Tommy on it,” I tell him, grabbing my jacket. “Tail Ricci. I want his every piss tracked. Then we carve him out.”

Ralph’s already on his phone, thumbs jabbing. “Done, boss.”

I storm out, my mind on one thing alone as I slide into the SUV.

My ribs ache from the crash, a dull stab with every breath, but I ignore it.

Penelope’s face appears in my head. Her wild eyes, her sharp mouth, the way she cut me and then stitched me up.

I need her now. Not just her body, though fuck, I crave that too.

I need her voice, her fire, the way she sees through my bullshit.

The way she calms me. The engine growls as I peel off, tires chewing asphalt, heading straight for her apartment.

I open the door with my key this time. She’s on the couch, legs curled under her, some shitty reality show blaring on the TV.

Her head snaps up, coffee-brown eyes narrowing, then softening when she sees it’s me.

She’s in a loose tank top and shorts, hair wild, like sleep’s been dodging her as hard as it’s been dodging me.

“You look like you crawled out of a ditch,” she says, muting the TV, her lips twitching.

“Feel like it too.” I kick the door shut, shedding my jacket, and drop onto the couch beside her. My arm brushes hers, and heat flares under my skin, instant and fierce.

She shifts, facing me, her knee bumping mine. “What’s going on? You’ve got that face like you’re about to snap someone’s neck.”

“Close.” I lean back, running a hand through my hair “Found out who fucked my car. Vinny, on Henry’s dime. He is dead now, but not dead enough. And Henry’s teaming up with Ricci. That bastard who sent his dogs after you.”

Her face hardens, jaw tightening. “Ricci? Thought you scared him off.”

“Thought so too. He’s back, and he’s got plans. Big ones.” I meet her eyes, holding them. “I’m taking him down first. Before he takes me.”

She nods slowly, processing, then smiles. “So, what, you’re here for a pep talk? Or just to brood on my couch?”

I laugh and grab her wrist, pulling her closer. “Maybe I just wanted to see you before I start breaking skulls.”

“Lucky me,” she mutters, but she doesn’t pull away. Her pulse jumps under my fingers. “You’re a walking disaster, Adriano.”

“Been a mess since I was born.” I let go of her wrist, leaning in, my voice dropping. “Want to hear something fucked up? Something I’ve never told anyone?”

Her eyes spark, curious. “Spill it.”

I pause, the words hard to voice. Then I let them loose.

“I noticed you before I should’ve. Back when Sophia was still here, when we would come over and spend time with you or when I dropped her off.

I saw you even when I didn’t want to. The sneaky glances at me over pizza boxes, the lingering stares and unending questions.

You were too young, too close to her, and I hated myself for it.

But I saw you. Those legs, that laugh—fuck, even then, you got under my skin.

I’d grill burgers, flip them fast, just to keep my hands busy so I wouldn’t stare too long. ”

Her breath catches, eyes widening. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” I scrub my face, the memory stinging.

“Sophia was everything to me. You were hers, and I still couldn’t stop it.

But that night she caught us? I wanted you on my lap more than I’ll ever admit.

When she died, it crushed me—guilt, rage, all of it.

I thought it’d kill whatever I felt for you.

It didn’t. You stuck, Penelope. Even when I tried to shove you out. ”

She stares, quiet, then murmurs, “That’s heavy.”

“Yeah.” I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in. “My world’s built on secrets. You show nothing—weakness, want, it’s a death sentence. But with you, I don’t give a fuck. I trust you. Completely.”

She grabs my shirt, pulls me in, and kisses me hard. Her lips crash against mine, fierce and needy, her tongue pushing past, tasting me. I groan, hands sliding to her hips, pulling her onto my lap. She straddles me, her heat pressing through her shorts, setting me on fire.

“Fuck, I want to make you feel good,” she says, voice husky, hands roaming, nails scraping light. “Tell me how.”

I tilt her face up, locking eyes. “You want to make me feel good, cara? Get on your knees. Show me what that mouth can do.”

She slides off, dropping between my legs, hands tugging at my belt. I lift my hips as she pulls my pants down, my cock springing free, hard and throbbing. She licks her lips, staring, and I tangle my fingers in her hair, guiding her close.

“Suck me,” I say, voice rough, firm. “Start slow, take it deep.”

Her lips close around me, warm and wet, and I groan loud, head falling back. “Fuck, yes, like that. Harder.” She sucks, tongue swirling, sliding deeper until I hit her throat. My hand holds her tighter, watching her take me.

“Deeper,” I growl. “Let me feel you choke.”

She moans, the sound buzzing through me, and pushes further, gagging but eager. Spit slicks her chin, and I thrust shallow, then I’m fucking her mouth, messy and perfect, and I thrust up, fucking her mouth slow, watching her eyes water.

“Good girl,” I rasp. “You’re so fucking good at this. Look at you, taking my cock like it’s yours.”

Her hands seize my thighs, nails digging in, and she tugs me closer, breathlessly diving in again, sucking harder, more urgently. I’m losing it, heat coiling tight in my gut, but I grab her shoulders, pulling her up. “Not yet. Climb back up here.”

She scrambles onto my lap, her shorts gone now, her bare pussy slick against my cock. I grab her ass, spreading her, and slide her along my length, not entering, just teasing. She whimpers, rocking against me, desperate.

“Tell me what you want,” I say, biting her neck, sucking a mark.

“I want you inside me,” she pants, hands clutching my shoulders. “Please, Adriano.”

“Take it then.” I lift her, lining her up, and she sinks down, slow, tight, swallowing me whole. We both groan, loud and raw, and she starts moving, riding me hard, her tits bouncing under that tank top.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” I snarl, grabbing her hips, bringing her down harder. “Tight and wet, just for me. Say it.”

“It’s yours,” she gasps, nails raking my neck. “All yours.”

I flip her onto her back, pinning her down, and drive in deep, relentless. The couch shakes, her legs hook around me, pulling me closer, and she’s moaning my name, loud and wild. I lean in, voice rough against her ear.

“We’re done hiding from it. Sophia’s gone, and it fucking hurts, but this—you and me—it’s real. I’m not drowning in guilt anymore. I’m choosing you.”

Her eyes lock on mine. “I choose you too. No more running. I love you,” she blurts, mid-thrust, her voice breaking, eyes locked on mine.

I freeze. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she says, voice breaking, raw. “Fuck, I love you.” I thrust harder, claiming her, and she arches, gasping.

“I love you too,” I growl, kissing her deep, tasting her truth. “You’re mine, Penelope. Forever.”

She shatters, crying out and I spill inside her, groaning, and so spent. We collapse, tangled, her fingers in my hair, my lips on her neck.

She laughs, breathless. “Think the neighbors heard that?”

“Worth it. I love fucking you.”

“You’re gonna get me evicted with all that noise.”

A curve appears on my face and I nip her ear. “Let ‘em. Next time, I’ll gag you.”

“Promises, promises,” she shoots back, grinning, and I laugh and feel like the weight’s gone. Sophia’s ghost isn’t choking me anymore. It’s just us now, messy and real.

I lie there, her heartbeat thudding against mine, and think about how life’s a brutal fucking joke. You build walls, wield power, spill blood, and it still strips you bare. I used to think love was a trap, a weakness I’d never survive. Now I see it’s the only thing worth the fight.

Penelope’s not my redemption, she is my reckoning. A truth I can’t outrun, and for once, I don’t want to. This is us, scars and all, and I’ll kill to keep it. That’s my reality: she’s the fire I’ll burn for, and I’m done pretending otherwise.