I stirred slowly and looked distastefully at my cock straining against the sheets. It was the same way I had woken yesterday and the day before–with a painful hard-on.
Muttering curses, I rose from the bed and walked into the shower. If only jerking off could satiate the thirst I felt. But it didn't work that way and Stephanie was the one to blame for my perpetually rigid dick.
I wanted those cherry red lips around my cock. I wanted to see her green eyes widen as she took me in. I dreamed about it and about everything I would do with her when she became mine.
I bet she had no idea how badly she had gotten under my skin.
I didn't understand it myself. At first glance, she wasn't much different or prettier than the hundreds of pretty faces I had met. Perhaps it was that wild dare in her face when she kissed me in my club, or the determination in her eyes, or the way she had fought in my office. I could still hear her breathy moans and feel the air just above my lips.
Fuck it! I was hard again.
I had just walked out of the bathroom, my towel wrapped around my hips when my phone rang. I snatched it from the nightstand and peered curiously at the screen before I took the call.
"Rocco has reported no incident in or around Stephanie's house. If the Bernini planned to attack, they just missed their chance," Julio's voice came. "I've sent some of the guys to help her pack. She would be safe in your residence by noon or sooner."
The ghost of a smile curved my lips as I nodded complacently. I turned the phone on speaker and tossed it on the bed as I grabbed my shirt. "Good. I've already gotten Vincenzo to arrange the South wing for her."
"South wing?" Julio chuckled and then dissolved into a guffaw. "Honestly, I thought you were going to lock her in your room."
My eyes drifted to my king-size bed and instantly I pictured her there in a gauzy nightgown, waiting as I took off my clothes, getting ready to devour her, give her an experience she would never forget. I licked my lips at the thought.
"That would have to wait, though," I said. "She would need time to adjust."
"Right," he said. "Because waiting for the right time to strike is your style. Like a cobra."
"I prefer tiger," I said, going along. "But, seriously, I'm bringing her in to play the roles of a wife and not as a sex toy," I reminded him.
He chuckled mockingly. "How noble of you."
I didn't miss the mockery in his words. "Seriously, Julio, I need her to survive and I trust you to ensure that."
"Of course," he replied seriously this time. "Survive until your thirtieth birthday or do you want her to live longer than that?"
A cold, calculated question.
I dropped my towel and pulled my boxer shorts up. "I didn't make this arrangement just so everything will end with her dying. I'm not that cruel."
"Of course," he said. "So you'll divorce after your official coronation?"
I paused to think.
Truthfully, I hadn't considered divorce as an option. The phrase "till death do is part" was so damn accurate in our world. Mafia men or their wives were sure to die. It was rare to see a marriage through till they died naturally. Either their wives went first or them.
I swallowed the thought.
"A divorce right after the coronation will surely seem suspicious."
He hummed in agreement. "Good point. You'll have to wait with that decision till maybe six months after your coronation."
I nodded.
"But one thing bothers me though," he mused. "Wouldn't it be better if you just set a contract and state a rule or two."
I smirked. "No. I want no restrictions. Rules complicate things."
"That can go both ways. Are you sure you can handle her?"
My smirk turned into a dark grin. "I wouldn't choose to marry her if I didn't consider her a challenge."
There was silence and then he spoke.
"Good luck."
I nodded and continued with dressing myself up.
As much as I wanted to stay back and await my hot wife's arrival, welcome her personally, there were other pressing matters that had to be handled urgently.
Vinci Bernini had obediently returned home and, as Rocco had confirmed, had yet to make a move. But it would have been stupid not to keep an eye on him.
I wished Vinci was my only problem, but today, my focus drifted to one of my clubs in Brooklyn. Valentino, the manager, informed me of an incident–another attack.
Unfortunately, Valentino had not been able to handle things as well as my team in Red Lotus did.
....
The police came and searched the entire place, like we were dumb enough to keep drugs and guns there. The reporters were dealt with easily but the police were slightly more problematic.
Surely, we controlled authorities, and had them in our pockets, but it was only to a degree. There was always those overly-righteous, unbribable, dumb fucks who thought that busting us would grant them promotion.
Idiots.
We just let the little ones run wild and got the higher-ups in our pockets, and these higher-ups were always ready to keep the righteous ones from getting a promotion.
I finished getting dressed and walked out of my bedroom, heading for the main hall. Vincenzo materialized beside me the moment I was past the corridor.
"Breakfast, Singore?" he inquired, inclining his head and offering a kind smile.
I had never seen the man pissed, or show any emotion except for this careful mask he had on. He used to be my grandfather's maggiordomo, butler, and the moment the old man passed away, he resumed working for me. It was hard to tell how old he was. Though his nearly white hair which reached down to his shoulder blades would suggest mid-sixties, his unwrinkled face said he was younger than that.
I exhaled slowly as I looked into the Rolex watch on my wrist. "I'm sorry, Vincenzo. No time for breakfast," I said and quickly asked. "Is the South wing ready?"
"Certainly, Signore," he replied me. "Madam Stephanie will be so pleased."
"Glad to hear it," I said and began to walk towards the door.
"Just one more thing, sir," Vincenzo called and I spu around to look inquiringly at him. "Are you sure it's wise?"
My eyebrows rose. "What do you mean?"
His lips tightened and he seemed a little tense. "I'm just saying, wouldn't it have been better if you chose an Italian..."
"I don't give a damn where she's from," I said. "She's the one I want."
Vincenzo cleared his throat. "I'm just saying, sir. She might not be accepted so easily by the other members–"
"Then they can as well go and fuck themselves. She's staying and I will make whoever is not comfortable with the arrangement accept it, even by force.
He sighed and I saw his lips part, forming some words. I had had enough of this traditionalist crap. I didn't want to hear any other thing about it, so I turned around and walked out.
A few minutes later, I was driving through the traffic on my way to the Dorado Magsto Tower where my office was. I was less than a mile away when my phone buzzed. It was a message from Julio.
~The cops are here. None of ours. Some detectives are waiting to speak with you~
I cursed and stepped on the gas, clenching my jaw. I needed to get there as fast as I could.
I parked the car hurriedly and walked briskly to the door. As soon as I was in, I saw Julio talking with two men in cheap suits. It wasn't difficult to guess who they were.
I gave a curt nod and led the detectives to the elevator, heading for my office.
In the office, I gestured for them to make themselves comfortable on the sofa while Julio and I took the armchairs opposite the sofa.
I knew, judging by the tense expression on Julio's face that I was about to receive some fucked up news.
I willed my expression blank as I asked casually, "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"
One of the detectives, a man with blonde hair and a mustache, cleared his throat. "We'd like to check your surveillance from last night. And we hope you'll cooperate."
I gave them a careful nod. "I won't agree to anything unless I know what this is all about."
The other detective, a bald man with steel rimmed spectacles, snarled, "We have a dead teenager who got drugs from your club. So I suggest you cooperate it we'll be back with a warrant and tear the entire place down."
I fixed him a hard stare before my lips dissolved into a cold smirk. "Hold up, detective," I said. "This is beginning to sound like a downright accusation. I believe you need proof to such an accusation, and you don't have anything to prove this..."
They stared coldly at me.
"I believe if you had proof, you'd have just come here with a warrant," I said with the smirk still playing on my lips.
The bald detective clenched his teeth, fuming with anger. The first one shot his partner a glare before facing me with a wry smile.
"Please forgive Detective Scarfe," he said and I nodded in acknowledgment.
His lips became a tight smile.
"Go on," I prodded.
"The kid who died was only sixteen. He took an overdose of some weird substance and his insides were literally melted," he explained.
"So, how does any of this point to me?" I asked and chuckled. "Do I sell substances designed to melt teenagers inside or what?"
Julio also laughed despite the tension surrounding us.
"The kid was found in an alleyway. Had a lighter with the logo of the Red Lotus and something that could have been the club's stamp on his wrist."
The detective picked the briefcase he had, set it on his laps and zipped it open. He pulled out a photo, placed it on the table and slid it towards me. It was a picture of the victim.
Julio and I leaned forward, peering at the photo. I recoiled in my chair, feeling my stomach twist and exchanged looks with Julio.
We knew the kid. But not from the club. His name was Greg McConnor.
Drake McConnor's younger brother.