Page 32

B enito

Only Cristiano looks up when I return to the VIP room. “Sorry about that. Update on the renovations.”

Beppe glances at me briefly before downing half a bottle of beer. “Are you any closer to finding out who did it?”

“No. Fingerprint scans were lost. My guys are searching through more security footage.”

I reach for my glass and inhale a large mouthful of whiskey, feeling Cristiano’s narrowed gaze on the side of my face.

The image of Tess tied to a chair in the basement settles across my lids, stubbornly refusing to abate. I won’t be able to hold out much longer. While she’s destroyed any chance of us being anything more than a three-day-hotel fling, and loose relations through mafia ties, I can’t simply switch off the way she makes my balls ache whenever I look at her, or the way she makes my cock stiffen with a gentle laugh. I also won’t get away with keeping her in the basement forever. The clock’s ticking and I need to make the most of my little captive whore while I can.

“They’re looking into something for me now so I’ll have to duck out again shortly.”

“Anything I can help with?” Cristiano asks, his gaze still narrowed.

I suck my bottom lip into my mouth while seeming to consider his offer, then shake my head. “I’ll let you know.”

Beppe and Nicolò have resumed a conversation so Cristiano pulls me to one side. “I just got an update on the Marchesi situation,” he says. Normally, this would make me hard but it’s taking all my effort to focus squarely on the topic at hand.

“Go on.”

“Fury’s definitely handing the reins to his nephews.”

I nod while digesting what I’d suspected Fury would do all along. “The three brothers?”

“All three. Two had already been sworn in. The third is being sworn in as we speak.”

I wipe a bemused smile from my face. “Too green. All of them.”

“Don’t assume green to mean ineffective,” Cristiano warns. “They’re hungry and bitter. Sometimes, that’s all you need along with a good fucking aim.”

Cristiano’s gaze falls to my scar, reminding me that those were the same three qualities I brought to Gianni’s table sixteen years ago. He took a chance on me and now I’m the best arsenal the Di Santo’s have.

My thoughts turn back to Falconi. “Do we have a list of everyone they’ve made?”

His gaze diverts for a second. “No, but to my knowledge they’ve slowed right down. Haven’t made anyone in the last year.”

Federico’s note stated he’s “associating” with them, and it was written only a few months ago. Sure, he wouldn’t broadcast the fact he’s a made man in a letter if that was actually the case, but he’d have worded it differently, because a made man is a hell of a lot more formidable than a mere associate. Still, his father knew our business inside out. He could give them useful information if it came down to it. Federico Falconi could be a viable threat.

“We’ve always been rivals,” Cristiano continues, “for as long as I can remember. But bringing down the Mexicans my brother was cavorting with, and the group behind Gio’s murder started a war, you know that.”

“Yeah, which we won when we took Newark.”

“And then we twisted the knife with the drug bust.”

“They were on our turf,” I argue.

“Fair point, but we’re goading them. You’re goading them. The drug bust was your idea. We didn’t need to do it.”

I inhale a long breath. “Cristiano, you hire me as your advisor. For what? To help us plateau? We’re not just a bunch of fucking gangsters, we’re businessmen . We’re in this to make money . If we let others encroach on our space, we send the message we can be fucked in the ass. If you ask me, we need to be taking what little they have left. Letting everyone on the east coast know we mean fucking business. We have all the right people in our pockets—the world is our goddamn oyster. What are we waiting for?”

Cristiano sits back in his leather chair and rests his gaze on me thoughtfully.

“Okay. What are you suggesting?”

I don’t even need to think about it. Not after Contessa’s betrayal. “We ruin the Marchesi’s. Then, we take Boston.”

“I’ll need more captains.”

“Leave that with me.” I know exactly which of our soldiers are ready for promotion and which ones need a discreet shove off the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Alright.” Cristiano leans forward, his gaze trailing once again over my scar. He’s only three years older than me but it’s moments like this he reminds me so much of his father, Gianni. “We’ll take the Marchesi’s. Organize a crew to replace any of Fury’s soldiers who fall, then come back to me with a plan.”

I nod, feeling the embers catch light in my stomach once again. This is what gives me life—having a purpose, someone’s trust, and free rein to annihilate anyone who declares themselves my enemy. In this moment I feel a small, itchy need to celebrate, and I know exactly who I want to do that with .

“Ah, almost forgot,” I say, getting to my feet. “Need to make that call.”

Cristiano sits back again and watches me as he brings the whiskey glass to his lips. “Take all the time you need.”

Her head is resting to one side and her hair has fallen across her face.

“So?” I bark at her.

She doesn’t move.

I pick up the chair that is still facing her and slam it to the floor. She jumps, a terrified look widening her eyes. Immediately, she starts trembling and tries to scoot backward but I grab the seat of her chair again. My fingers accidentally brush the soft flesh of her thigh and even though I couldn’t be more furious with this woman, my cock startles awake.

I look up and her lips have parted, her hair blowing from her face with each puff of her breath. Despite the fact I’ve got her tied up and believing her whole family distrusts her, she’s still affected by me, and that thought alone is making me painfully hard.

“I said, ‘so’?”

“So what?” she answers, croakily.

“You were reflecting.”

She swallows and licks her lips which pushes my self-control to a new limit. “I have nothing to reflect on, Benito. I only got that letter the other day and I have no idea what Federico’s involvement with the Marchesi’s is.”

I settle on the opposite chair and stroke a hand down my tie, then I smile at her.

“Contessa… Usually, when I capture someone and ask them to reflect on their story, they do it, and then they tell me the truth. If they need a little more persuasion, I torture them.”

It’s true and she knows it. She’s seen me wash the blood off my hands.

Her head falls forward and she gazes up at me through thick, damp lashes. The sight of it does nothing to soften the erection growing beneath my slacks.

“Benito, I have nothing more to tell you. Please believe me.”

Cristiano’s permission rings loud in my ears. We’re going to ruin the Marchesi’s. If Federico is in contact with them, I need to get something out of Contessa. She’s a damn good liar. She’s had me fooled up to this point, but that ship has definitely sailed.

“Which Marchesi is he talking to?” I bite out.

She sighs heavily and drops her gaze to the ground. “I don’t know.”

“In what capacity does he associate with them?”

Her head shakes softly. “I don’t know.”

I try a different tactic. “He’s in New York.”

Her head jerks upwards and alarm flashes across her features. “Federico?”

Hearing his name on her lips feels like a sharp knife is being driven through my chest .

“Where would he go?” I press.

She shakes her head and pins her lips together.

Something inside me snaps. “I’ve had enough of this shit.”

I push the hem of her skirt up to her hips and drop my gaze to the pink panties covering her pussy.

Her thighs tense and her voice trembles. “What are you doing?”

I don’t answer because I’m completely focused on the mesmerizing vision between her legs. I hate that I know how she tastes and I hate that it’s so fucking sweet . I curl a thick thumb around the edge of her panties and drag them to one side.

Her breath hitches and her shoulders brace.

“Benito…”

Oh God . Her beautiful pink clit is becoming engorged. It’s swelling before my eyes. Federico might be the one she loves but I’m the one who turns her on, whether she likes it or not. I press my thumb to the gorgeous nub and soak up the moan that it pulls from her throat.

“Please, Benito. Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” I smile, unable to tear my gaze from her pussy. It’s leaking with her arousal, making her flesh glisten. I use my other thumb to drag her wetness through her folds and lubricate the swollen bud as I circle it softly.

“I don’t want to do this,” she says, her breaths short and erratic.

“Your body doesn’t agree with that statement. ”

“You don’t believe me. You hate me,” she pants. “Why would you do this?”

I finally lift my lids until they catch on her long lashes and delirious gaze. “Because I want to show Federico what his little whore gets up to when he’s not around.”

She swallows, hard.

I jerk my head toward a camera set up in the top corner of the room above the door. “Yeah. He’s going to see all of this. He’s going to see exactly what I can do to his little sweetheart.”

“No,” she gasps. “Please Benito.”

I rub small circles around her clit and watch as her breasts lift brazenly, her stomach rolling with the effort of not letting this affect her.

“Oh God, Benito, please?—”

I smile at the sight of her falling apart. “Are you begging for me to stop or continue?”

“S—stop.” She rotates her hips, pushing her pussy toward me, while her eyes roll back. “Please…”

“Is this what you want, brat?”

I slam to my knees and give her pussy a long, deep lick.

“Fuck!” she cries out. “Oh God, please stop.”

She’s trembling so hard, the chair legs are shaking. And my cock is so thick, kneeling on the floor is fucking painful. But I can’t not taste this sweet pussy one more time.

I bend down again, wrap my lips around her nub and suck softly, swirling my tongue around it. She bucks up against me, reckless moans flying out of her mouth.

“Please… Oh God …”

I keep the sodden panties pulled to one side and lick her rhythmically, curling my tongue into her heat. She’s sobbing now because she’s on the edge.

“Benito… Oh fuck . I’m going to come.”

I pause for a second and look over my shoulder at the camera. I wasn’t lying. That thing is recording on a loop and I absolutely plan to chop out this coverage and send it to Federico on a fucking platter.

“You hear that, Falconi? Your little sweetheart is going to come on my tongue. And do you know what?” I give the camera a slow wink. “She’s fucking delicious.”

I twist back to see she’s turned solid, her gaze wild and desperate. I smirk and dip back between her legs, and wrap my whole mouth around her pussy.

“Oh God!” She starts to jerk frantically. “Benito, I’m coming…”

I slide a finger inside her and ignite a whole new set of convulsions until she’s literally coming apart on the chair.

I feast on her arousal until she’s a dry, quivering mess, then I get to my feet.

Her head has fallen over the back of the chair. Eventually, she drunkenly lifts it. She looks depleted of everything and so goddamn beautiful. Her eyes dart sideways as I stroke her hair behind her ear.

“I’m going upstairs,” I say, firmly. “I want you to try again, at reflecting . If you don’t have anything further to tell me about your boyfriend’s involvement with the Marchesi’s, I will fuck you senseless for him to see.”

I hold her stare as I bend down and brush my lip across hers. Then I steal her last breath as it gushes from her chest and leave.

“That was a long call,” Cristiano says, the second I return. “How many houses are you building?”

I ignore Cristiano’s remark and instead flash Federico’s note in front of his face. I have his attention immediately.

“What is this?”

“It seems your future sister-in-law is aligning herself with an associate of the Marchesi’s.”

He takes the note in his fingers. They’re not inked like mine, but they’ve been in a few eye sockets since he took over as don, so they’re just as lethal.

“Federico Falconi. Why does that name sound familiar?”

“His father cheated your father. The guy earned us a lot of money once upon time, but then he turned crooked. I sent his family away before Gianni could execute them all.”

Cristiano looks sideways at me with an arched brow and it’s in this very moment I wonder if he really has become as ruthless as his father was. For what I’m about to tell him, I hope he has .

“Seems Federico has a chip on his shoulder,” Cristiano says.

I stroke my chin. “Yes it does. And like it or not, Contessa is involved.”

Cristiano sits back and assesses me. Probably to see how insane I really am. Funny, usually in our line of work it’s seen as a strength.

“Where is she?” He takes a long slug of whiskey then regards me.

I cut to the chase. “Tied to a chair in the basement.”

And just like that, my suit is covered in whiskey.

I let Cristiano compose himself while making a mental note to send him the dry cleaning bill.

“How long has she been down there?” His eyes are rimmed red from the burn of single malt flying out of his nose.

“Just a few hours. I’m questioning her.”

“That’s where you’ve been? You were down there a while…”

He leans in toward me, takes a sniff then chews away a smile. “You’re fucking crazy.”

Irritation scratches at my patience. “She’s sleeping with the enemy .”

He swallows a mouthful of whiskey then glances at me with a smirk. “That she is.”

“Cristiano, look at the damned note. She received this months ago and she’s kept it from me.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Benny. I saw the way she was looking at you over lunch. I don’t think she’s playing you. And all the sisters are downright allergic to what we do. I really don’t see her voluntarily getting involved with something like this. When did she get the letter?”

I chew on my lip. I don’t like to be proven wrong. “I don’t know exactly. She says Bambi gave it to her at the lunch, but that doesn’t explain the date. The date says she got this months ago.”

“Cristiano whips out his cell and dials a number. “Hi Allegra… Yeah, all good… Is Bambi there? Okay great, thanks…”

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. He’s just a smirk waiting to happen. “Hey Bambi, you gave Tess a note at lunch the other day, right?” There’s a long pause. “No, it’s okay, she’s not in any trouble, but… do you know when the note arrived?” After another long pause, Cristiano signs off, hangs up and looks at me.

“The letter only arrived at the house Saturday, she said. It was sent to the wrong house originally, unopened and sent back to the mail depot. The first Tess saw it was at the lunch.”

My jaw drops and a swarm of emotions collide inside my lungs. I struggle to breathe. I didn’t believe her. All it took was one misunderstanding and I jumped to the conclusion she was lying. I assumed she was playing me. I was born paranoid and it hasn’t left me. Not even becoming consigliere to the most notorious mafia family on the east coast protects me from it.

When I gasp for air, an enormous sense of relief drapes over me. Tess hadn’t lied to me after all. Maybe she really isn’t like the others. In this world, finding people you can trust—men and women—is like finding your way out of a maze in the darkness, blindfolded.

Maybe my instinct was right all along—maybe Tess is different. Maybe the one thing I fear more than anything—finding that one person who matches me wild for wild, crazy for crazy, heartbeat for heartbeat—has been standing right in front of me all along. I hadn’t dared imagine anyone out there could possibly be perfect for a dark soul like me, but not only has that impossibility become possible, but I might have lost it before I even knew it was found.

“I guess you have some apologizing to do?”

I grind my jaw and slowly get to my feet. “Something like that.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” he says, a sly smile curling the side of his mouth.

I scowl at him. “Don’t wait up.”

“Oh I won’t.”