Page 21 of Vincenzo (The DiMaggio Crime Family #3)

AMALIA

W hen I got Vincenzo’s text earlier, I was planning on ignoring it, but then he repeatedly called me until I answered. You could say I was curious to hear how his night went.

When I answered the phone, he sounded about as pissed as I guessed he’d be, but all he said was to get my ass to his office at the club. After taking an absurdly long time to get ready, I made my way to Fierce, and now I’m here, being escorted up these metal steps by his security guard.

“Alright, I’m here,” I say as I walk into his office, stopping in front of the red velvet couch. The guard shuts the door behind me, and a heavy, eerie feeling takes over the room.

Vincenzo’s standing at his mini bar, pouring himself a drink, looking surprisingly more relaxed than he sounded on the phone earlier.

“You want one?” he asks, his back still facing me. He might look relaxed, but the air is tight in here.

“I’m good, thanks.”

He turns around, bringing the crystal glass up to his lips, then pauses as he slowly rakes his gaze up my body before slamming the drink back and placing the empty cup on the bar top.

Picking up his gun, he walks over to me, and I make sure to keep my eye on it. Apparently, someone’s still a little salty about being cuffed to their bed all night.

“Where’s your phone, Amalia?” he asks.

A crinkle in my brow forms at his question and the threat of his gun in his hand. “Um, why?”

Stopping in front of me, he says, “Let me see it.”

“Um, why ?” I repeat, eyeing the gun he has down by his side.

“Indulge me,” he says.

Shaking my head, I take my phone out of the pocket of my blazer and hand it to him. My eyes never leave the gun at his side.

He holds my phone up to my face so the facial recognition unlocks the screen. I watch carefully while he looks through it. What the hell is going on?

“Do you usually keep this on you at all times?” he asks, brows furrowed while he continues concentrating on my phone.

“Yes?”

Vincenzo lifts his gaze to mine and raises a brow. “Was that a question or is that your answer?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s always in my vicinity.”

“But do you have eyes on it at all times?”

I give an annoyed shrug at his interrogation, ignoring the fact that he could pull his gun on me at any second. “Technically, no. Why? What’s with all the questions?”

Letting out a sigh, he gives me my phone back. “My brother received a text from you this morning,” he says.

I nearly choke on my own spit. “Excuse me? I don’t even have his number.”

“Looks like the message was deleted from your phone and his number was blocked so you couldn’t get a response back even if he had tried to respond.”

What the hell is he talking about?

“And what did this message say?” I ask.

He stares at me as if he’s studying me, trying to figure out if my confusion is genuine or not. His grip tightens on his gun.

“It said, give us port access, or your wife and sister are dead.”

My breath hitches and my heart hammers. “W… what?”

Vincenzo remains silent, studying me again with his narrowed gaze, making me feel like I’m some organism on a petri dish being observed under a microscope.

“When did he receive that message?” I ask, looking through my phone. “You’re sure it came from me?”

“It came from your number.”

I slide my gaze up to Vincenzo’s. “I didn’t send that message.”

He’s quiet for a moment while he continues observing me, and I hate it. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life.

After what feels like a fucking eternity, he finally says, “I believe you.”

I go to release a sigh of relief, but it’s quickly caught in my throat when he takes the barrel of his gun and moves it across my cheek, brushing my hair back over my shoulder.

“Have you pissed anyone off lately?”

“That’s a loaded question when you’re a hitwoman for the cartel,” I say, my voice steady while I try to figure out his next move.

Vincenzo chuckles, somehow lessening the tension in the air even while there’s a gun in my face. “The way I see it, there’s only one person who could possibly have access to your phone right now.”

I slowly nod, already knowing where he’s going with this but not understanding why Carlos would do something so stupid .

“But why would he send that message off your phone?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Carlos was the one who suggested we kidnap your family, but it doesn’t make sense that he’d text your brother about it.

Unless he’s gotten so impatient with my lack of a plan that he decided to take matters into his own hands.

” Even so, this has got to be the dumbest thing that man has ever done.

“Unless he wants you dead,” Vincenzo suggests, sliding the barrel of the gun down the valley of my chest, his eyes still piercing mine.

“Why would he want me dead?” I ask, raising a brow at him.

He trails the gun down my stomach, pausing at my core for a brief second before moving to the hem of my skirt. The action has my heart racing a million beats per minute.

“After watching the full footage where Carlos suggested kidnapping my family to your uncle, I was coming to terms with everything you told me. I’ve spent the past few hours trying to figure out what Carlos’s plan is in all of this, but I keep drawing a blank.

” He slides the gun under my skirt. “I was hoping you’d have that answer for me. ”

My mouth falls open, but no words come out. The cool metal against my thigh has my mind blanking.

“You know … you look too fucking good in this outfit of yours. Drawing the attention of a lot of people in my club as soon as you walked in,” he says, his voice gravelly and like he might start to lose control. “I don’t fucking like that.”

“For someone who’s always claimed to not like me, you’re getting awfully possessive.”

Ignoring my remark, he removes his gun from under my skirt and falls back onto the couch. His hungry eyes never leave mine as I turn to face him, propping a hand on my hip.

“Damn,” he mumbles, running a hand over his scruff. “Do me a favor, Little Hellion.”

“Depends on what the favor is,” I say, quirking a brow at him.

He chuckles, then points his gun at me and says, “Take off your panties.”

I tilt my head at him, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth when I take in the desperate look in his eyes, but I don’t move a finger.

“Come on,” he says. “After putting on that show and leaving me cuffed to my bed, it’s the least you could do, don’t you think?”

I small laugh bubbles from my mouth. “I was wondering when you’d bring that up. Looks like you got out of it perfectly fine.”

“Oh, yeah, having my brother walk in on me with my dick hanging out was perfectly fine .”

That draws a full-blown laugh out of me. “Now that’s an image I would’ve loved to see.”

He watches me while my laugh tapers away. “I’m still waiting,” he says, and I roll my eyes. What’s a pair of panties when he already has one of my bras.

Doing as he asked, I lift my skirt until I’m able to hook my thumbs under the lace material of my underwear.

My eyes never leave his while I slide them down my legs, and the look of sheer, dark desire—just like the one from last night—that takes over his face while he tracks the movement has my insides doing somersaults.

I toss the red lace at him, hitting him right in the chest. They fall into his hand, and with a satisfied smile on his face, he shoves them in his pocket.

I nod at him. “Adding to your collection?”

“Always. Now get over here.”

He grabs my hand and spins me around, pulling me down on top of him so my back is flush with his hard chest.

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, Amalia,” he whispers in my ear.

I involuntarily squirm in his lap as his heated confession trickles over my skin.

“And after that show you put on for me last night …” He lets out a grunt.

“Tell me I’m not the only one,” he says, desperate for something I’m not sure I can give him.

I remain quiet but can’t help but wriggle when he takes the barrel of his gun and runs it down my chest. “No answer?” he asks, and I choose to ignore that too.

The truth is, I haven’t been able to get him off my mind, especially after last night. Admitting that doesn’t do anything for me or him, but there’s this intense physical attraction between the two of us that needs to be put out before either of us can move on.

“You might not want to say it, but you need this just as badly as I do. I can tell by the way your body responds to my touch. The way your back arches into me when I slide my gun down your chest.”

Vincenzo continues the descent of his Glock down my stomach and over my thigh, stopping at the hem of my skirt. Then he lifts the material so it’s bunched up at my hips.

“The way you’re grinding your ass into my cock right now.”

My breathing picks up as the cool metal grazes the inside of my thigh, getting closer to my heated core, but still not close enough.

“The way you cried out my name while your orgasm took over your body last night.”

“Please,” I scoff out, but my voice is barely above a whisper. “I only did that because I knew it’d get under your skin.”

It’s not a total lie. I knew using his name would get under his skin, but imagining him working me up definitely helped me get to the finish line quickly.

Vincenzo chuckles. “You did it because you needed to get your release. Now tell me, when your fingers were deep inside you, were you imagining they were my cock stretching this tight pussy of yours?”

I suck in a sharp breath when the barrel of his gun glides over my piercing.

“Say it, Amalia,” he whispers in my ear, causing a shiver to quake down my spine. “Tell me it was my cock you were imagining last night, and I’ll give you what you want… What you need .”

My head falls back on his shoulder, and I let out a breathy “Yes.”

He chuckles and brings his gun up to my mouth. “That’s it. Now be a good fucking girl and open up wide for me.”