Page 79 of Niccolo (Mafia Kings #7)

Niccolo

T he morning after I returned home from Hong Kong, I started contacting the various banks where our accounts had been pilfered.

At the first number I called, I asked for the manager Roberto had named and was met with disturbing news:

Luca Stefanelli was dead.

The bank wouldn’t give me any more information than that, so I searched online and found a news story.

It seems he had ‘jumped’ from the roof of a ten-story building just a few hours after the wire transfer had gone through.

The article said that the authorities were considering it a suicide. They were either idiots or were being paid off. I was betting on the second option.

One by one, I Googled the people on Roberto’s list –

And found a series of terrible accidents or suicides.

One got hit by a bus.

Another committed suicide by running her car in her garage.

Another overdosed on sleeping pills.

All of them happened a matter of hours after the wire transfers that had drained our accounts.

I stared at the screen and wondered, Sofia… what the fuck have you done?

However, it didn’t make sense.

Sofia had a certain ruthlessness to her –

But if she really was a monster, I was sure her mask would have slipped at some point.

I had a good radar for psychopaths and monsters, and she hadn’t triggered it.

You missed your uncle, a little voice reminded me.

But that was just it: these deaths were far more likely to be Fausto’s doing.

He actually was a monster; my father’s murder proved it.

And what was it she’d said at the casino about the bank transfers?

Actually, that one was more Fausto than me. He’s the one who arranged everything. I just suggested it.

So it was Fausto’s doing, not hers.

I had to wonder if my attraction for her was clouding my judgment…

But I didn’t think it was.

At least, I hoped it wasn’t.

Prayed it wasn’t.

Shortly after I finished my research, Roberto called.

After I informed him what was going on back home, he asked for a favor.

“I need you to overnight a case of our 2008 Brunello di Montalcino to the address I’m about to text you,” he said.

Our vineyard’s 2008 Brunello di Montalcino had won awards in European wine-tasting competitions.

It was also over a thousand euros a bottle…

And he wanted me to send somebody a dozen of them.

“What the fuck are you doing over there?!” I asked, incensed.

“Just have the winery overnight it, alright?”

Annoying little prick.

I went about the rest of my morning – although since Lars still had everyone on lockdown, I worked in one of the mansion’s studies.

Then, shortly before noon, I got a call.

It was a Rome area code. It wasn’t a number I recognized, and there was no caller ID. Thinking it might be the Cosa Nostra family that ran Rome, I answered it. “Hello?”

“Ciao, bello,” Sofia replied.

Hi, handsome.

I broke out into a huge grin. “Well, well, well – if it isn’t my favorite consigliere.”

“I’m assuming you mean beside yourself.”

“Well, naturally! I see your area code is Rome, but I’m assuming that after all your paranoia, you wouldn’t have given away your location that easily.”

“Come to Rome and find out.”

“Do you promise to be there? Preferably naked and in bed?”

She laughed. “No.”

“Then I’ll pass. How are you?”

“I’ve been better. How about yourself?”

“I’ve been MUCH better. Particularly when I was in Macau about 48 hours ago.”

“Mmm. Me, too. When’s our next get-together?”

“Come over to our side, and we can get together every night.”

“Tempting… in the meantime, how about a sleepover somewhere neutral?”

“I’d love to, but seeing as your boss is trying to kill me, I can’t exactly step foot out of our mansion.”

“Bummer.”

“Isn’t it?”

I thought about asking about the bank managers who had all met untimely ends.

I wanted to see how she reacted – to ascertain if she had planned their deaths –

But I wanted to see her face when I told her.

Since that wasn’t an option, I just continued to banter. “So – to what do I owe this very pleasant surprise?”

She paused for a second.

When she answered, there was less humor and more sincerity. “I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Oh,” I said, slightly surprised. “Well, I’m glad you did, because I missed hearing your voice, too. In fact, I miss a lot of things about you.”

“Mmmmm…” she purred. “I particularly miss one BIG thing about you.”

“Is that so,” I said, a little turned on.

“Mm-hmm. Particularly when it’s inside me.”

Jesus CHRIST.

I started to get hard.

“As much as I’d love to have phone sex, I think that would be frowned upon by my brothers.”

“Spoilsport. And here I was, ready to come for you.”

FUCK.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“Hold on,” she said.

There was a moment of silence…

And then a text notification pinged on my phone.

I opened it up –

And immediately my mouth began to water.

In the picture, Sofia was lying in a bed on her back, aiming a camera down at herself, smirking at me as she took a selfie.

Her hair was strewn out all over the pillow, and her eyes looked mischievous behind her glasses.

Her blouse was open, revealing a lacy bra and the swell of her breasts.

She had no pants on…

Just a lacy pair of panties…

And her right hand was down inside them, her fingers probably touching her clit.

I groaned.

“You like?” she teased.

“I like it a lot,” I said in a husky voice.

“Then get on Facetime with me. I want to see you stroke it.”

“JESUS,” I growled.

“Come on,” she whispered in my ear. “Please?”

“Are you toying with me right now?”

“No.”

“This is probably some ruse to get a compromising video of me, isn’t it?”

“No. And I’ve already sent you a compromising photo.”

“…true…”

“Look, I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s making me incredibly horny, and I really want to fuck you.

And since I can’t do that, I want to watch you jerk off while I touch myself.

And I NEVER masturbate, by the way… but I’ve been wanting to ever since I got back from Macau. If I get to watch you do it, too.”

My mouth was dry.

I felt incredibly self-conscious –

But my cock was also rock hard.

“Swear on your dreams and your desire for revenge that you won’t record this or try to use it against me,” I said huskily.

“I swear. You swear, too.”

“I swear on my brothers’ lives.”

“Alright… so are we doing this or not?” she asked playfully.

“Give me a minute to get up to my bedroom,” I said, knowing I was going to regret this –

And not caring one bit.