Convenient Mafia Vows (Ruthless Billionaire Mafia Kings)

4. Caleb

4

CALEB

I sleep on it.

Or rather, I alternate between the kind of dreams that wake me up with a rock-hard cock grinding into my abdomen and long periods of staring at the sunken ceiling lights, with what happened in my office earlier in the evening playing on repeat inside my head.

The dreams… I thought I’d had them under control, but now, Sandy is back inside my head with a vengeance. I dreamed that she was bent over my desk, naked ass raised to reveal her wide-open wet pussy, while I spread her thighs and inserted the whole length of my tongue inside her from behind.

But then, after she came and I flipped her over to stick my cock in her mouth, Sandy was Victoria, her chestnut curls framing her flushed face.

I woke up face-down in my bed, drenched in sweat, my cock throbbing underneath me. What is it about Victoria that has resurrected the goddamned dreams? She looked fucking hot in that dress, hot enough to pour into a pair of black latex pants just in time for me to drag them down over her hips… I tried to imagine Victoria in a blonde curly wig begging me to let her come, and my cock started knock-knocking against the mattress all over again.

By six a.m. I’m showered and dressed in a dark-gray suit teemed with a pale-pink shirt and violet-colored tie. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’d enjoyed the jet-black Danny Zuko look, felt comfortable in the white T-shirt and leather jacket, had even practiced my ‘Grease Lightning’ moves before heading out on New Year’s five years ago, incognito.

Just for one night, I’d wanted to ditch the Murray mask and trappings and live a little. It was my brother Kyle’s idea. “Let’s experience life from the other side of the table,” he’d said. “Let our hair down without Lauren breathing down our necks.”

It was so out-of-character for Kyle that I couldn’t refuse. He was a year out of a serious relationship with a woman who broke his heart by cheating on him with a cop, and in that basement nightclub, I saw him smile again for the first time in what felt like forever. He went all out, dyed his hair a couple of shades darker blonde and donned turn-up jeans, a black leather bomber jacket and black shades. He danced like I’d never seen him dance before.

And then our lives changed in the blink of an eye…

The restaurant manager brings breakfast to my office. I don’t know why, but I’m disappointed to find that it isn’t Victoria wearing that little black dress that revealed nothing and yet promised everything.

My cock twitches in my pants and I inadvertently glance at Denise as she reaches the door. She hesitates. Turns around to face me, a question mark hanging over her.

“What is it, Denise?”

“The temp Exec Concierge…” She chews her bottom lip. “I apologize for whatever she did wrong yesterday, but would you reconsider letting her go?”

When it comes to managing the restaurants, I trust Denise to run them to the standards I demand, but in fifteen years of working for the family, this is the first time she has ever questioned a decision. Why? Or is she simply a sucker for a sob story?

I’m still waiting for Victoria to agree to the fake marriage proposal, but I have no doubts that she will. In which case, she no longer needs the job.

“No.”

I see the flicker of frustration in her eyes before Denise thanks me and closes the door behind her as she leaves. I see it, and I do nothing about it. I have more pressing concerns right now, like what to do about the Dragonetti family.

Kyle’s office is on the same level of the Wraith as mine, a mirror version of my own office with a mahogany desk instead of the black and chrome desk of my choice. The remnants of a bowl of oatmeal and fruit remain on the coffee table, and I’m greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the machine on the counter against the wall.

“The marriage certificate is already drawn up,” Kyle says from behind his desk.

“More coffee?” I go straight to the coffee machine.

This is my third cup of the day, and it’s barely cutting through the fuzziness in my head. It’s doing nothing for the throbbing ache inside my pants either.

“Sure.” Kyle slides his cup across his desk. He waits for me to return with two steaming espressos before sitting back in his seat and watching me with hazel eyes that are not quite as green as Sandy’s were. “So, Don Dragonetti…”

I smile. “…Wanted me to marry Olivia as a condition of the alliance.”

Kyle immediately sits forward. “He knows she’s a liability and wants someone to take her off his hands.”

“Not someone. Me .”

He sips his coffee and grimaces. I gave up years ago asking him why he insists on drinking coffee when he can’t stand the taste of it, and his response was that drinking soda in board meetings undermined his status and gave clients the wrong impression of him.

“How did he take it?” he asks.

“As expected. Olivia, on the other hand…” I shrug.

“So, you handled the situation by telling them that you were already married.”

He isn’t judging me. Okay, maybe he is judging me a little, but Kyle knows me better than anyone else, including our mother, which means that he will understand that I had my reasons. Namely, Olivia Dragonetti.

“I couldn’t think of another reason to not marry his daughter that Don Dragonetti wouldn’t magic away with the snap of his fingers.”

Kyle’s nose twitches from side to side while he considers this. “You don’t think that he’ll pay your ‘wife’ to disappear?”

“I don’t doubt that he’ll try. We just need to give her a reason to stay.”

“We?” Kyle’s eyebrows slide into his hairline.

I smile. “Fair enough. I need to give her a reason to stay.”

“What did you promise her?” Kyle slips easily into lawyer mode.

“Anything she wanted.”

“ Anything ?” He scratches his left ear. “What did you say to her specifically?”

“Specifically, I believe I said, ‘Name your price, Victoria’.”

“To which she responded…?”

“‘Can I think about it?’”

Kyle’s fingers are tapping across his keyboard. “Okay, we need to draw up a prenup agreement. Set a limit, financially. We don’t want her claiming fifty percent of the Wraith when you decide that Olivia has taken the hint and backed off.”

When Kyle puts it like that, I suddenly see the whole fake proposal situation in a whole new light. It has been ten years since I dated Olivia. Our relationship barely lasted six months, and she still believes that I’ll marry her someday.

What happens if she never backs off? There will be no alliance if Olivia continues to make it personal, but more importantly, what happens to Victoria, worst-case scenario?

“We’ll offer her reasonable compensation.” Kyle’s words barely penetrate my thought process. “What’s her background?”

I think of the sidewalk brawl where I first set eyes on Victoria. “Her brother’s a loser.”

“Great.”

“She ended up temping here. I think there’s a connection to Denise Cartwright.”

“Okay, I’ll look into it.” Kyle talks while he types. “A year’s salary would be fair.”

A year’s salary sounds like a fucking kick in the teeth, even to me. I don’t even know why I care. The woman obviously has baggage in the form of her loser brother, and she clearly can’t hold down a job. But she stepped in when I needed her, no questions asked and didn’t even demand on-the-spot compensation.

That’s what it is, I tell myself. It has fuck all to do with how hot she looks in a little black dress, or the dream where she was bent over my desk while I fucked her from behind.

Nothing at all to do with that…

My phone rings. My brother Cassius, or Cash for short.

“Caleb, we have a problem.”

I glance at Kyle. His fingers stop tap dancing across the keyboard when he spots my lowered brows. “Shoot.”

“Olivia just waltzed in with an entourage.”

Fuck! I thought it would take a little longer than twelve hours for her to start kicking off. “Keep her there.” I end the call.

“Olivia is at the Titan.” I stand up and stare at my phone as if I could draw out a message from Victoria through sight alone.

“Alone?”

“Sounds as if she brought back-up.”

Kyle rolls his seat away from the desk and hands me an official document. “Basic prenup. I’ve kept compensation deliberately low. Gives us room to barter.”

I glance at the figure Kyle has included in the document. I’ll remind him to add a couple of zeroes when I’m finished with Olivia. Leaving the agreement on the desk, I walk to the door, Kyle behind me, his limp only noticeable these days because I know it’s there.

“Caleb, don’t do anything rash. We want the Dragonetti family on our side.”

I don’t ask him if that includes Olivia.

Cash’s casino and Titan resort sits just outside the city, unmissable from Newark airport, as the name suggests. It’s a goliath of a building and a blueprint for the kind of Vegas-worthy resort that offers visitors everything they could possibly want under one roof and subsequently ensures that their cash remains in-house.

Where the Wraith is sleek and black and sexy, the Titan was designed with Hollywood glamor in mind. The fifty-story hotel was constructed with specially created blocks that provide a golden sheen even when the sun is hiding, the rooftop sign is the largest in the entire country. Cash’s brief for the architects was bold and brash, and they delivered.

When my driver pulls up outside the entrance, it’s easy to pick out the folks visiting the Titan for the first time. They generally have their heads tilted toward the sky, phones raised to capture the golden building in all its morning glory.

Terry, my stepfather, is waiting for me at the entrance. Now in his early sixties, he still wears his trademark outfit of black tailored suit and black jersey sweater and could easily pass for a man fifteen years his junior. He’s a formidable figure, and he knows it.

He could’ve handed over the reins to the empire he built from scratch to his stepsons, walked away, and lived out his days on one long sunny vacation with my mom, but pride in what we’ve all achieved, and an ingrained mistrust of anyone who isn’t family, keeps him rocking up every day as Head of Security. He tours all three resorts based in and around the city, making sure that his team are well-dressed, well-mannered, and well-armed. He spots a smudge on a suit lapel, and the guilty party is sent away with a final warning not to let him down again or suffer the consequences. To date, I’ve never known anyone receive a second warning from Terry … and live to tell the tale.

He greets me with a nod. “She’s in the exec casino. We’ve cleared the area.”

I can’t help smiling. Terry knows how long we’ve been waiting to form an alliance with the Dragonettis, but he won’t take any crap from anyone, not on his turf.

He walks with me, and I’m the one matching his stride. He could walk through this building with his eyes shut and probably still recall every punter at every table. The main floor, a glitzy, gaudy area with blood-red carpets and the obligatory gold accessories, that still manages to pull off looking classy, is filled with people who have no doubt been seated around the same tables all night. They’re oblivious to the drama unfolding in the executive area. Drama prevents them from spending money, and we’re not in business for the sheer fun of it.

When I enter, Olivia looks up from the roulette table with wide eyes that say I-knew-you’d-come. Her ‘entourage’ as Cash put it, stands and surrounds her, giving her the appearance of a queen and her army.

Terry waits outside. He’ll step in if required, but he understands that I want to deal with this discreetly.

“Caleb.” Olivia pouts glossed bottom lip rolling out in her best Shirley Temple expression. “Why so serious?”

I make eye contact with the men in dark suits and black turtleneck shirts as I approach the table; I’m surprised they didn’t complete the ensemble with reflective wraparound Ray-Bans. They might be employed by Don Dragonetti, but they won’t aim first and risk bringing the wrath of the old Don down on their heads. No matter what Olivia believes.

“Why are you here, Olivia?”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows lower and her eyes darken. When we dated, it only ever took a mistimed comment or a glance at another woman for the transformation from angel to demon to take place. Because of the Dragonetti name, I overlooked it to begin with, telling myself that I was imagining it, that all Olivia needed was attention to keep her emotionally stable.

I was wrong.

“No law against chancing my luck on the roulette table, is there?”

“None whatsoever.” I keep my voice level. “So long as you have the funds to begin with.”

Her glossy crimson lips stretch into a dazzling smile. I’ve seen her use it in the past to get what she wants because it always worked on Daddy. “Caleb, you know I’m good for the money.” Her voice drips honey.

I reciprocate the smile. “So, why did you demand 100k markers on my account, Olivia?”

The smile stretches into something no longer pleasant, something altogether more sinister, before she tips her head back and laughs. “What’s 100k between lovers, huh?”

“We’re not lovers. I’m married. I told you this last night, Olivia.”

Olivia sashays towards me, her silk pants swishing between her legs and the matching jacket revealing that she’s wearing nothing underneath. On anyone else, it would look sexy, the swell of her breasts between the white lapels, but on Olivia, it’s an instant red flag—she does nothing unless it benefits Olivia Dragonetti in some way.

When she’s standing in front of me, she traces my jawline with a scarlet fingernail decorated with tiny diamantes. “And I told you that I don’t believe you.” Our mouths are so close that she pokes out her tongue and licks my lips.

I take her hands and hold her at arm’s length. The honey vanishes, replaced by narrowed eyes filled with venom. “You’d better get used to the idea, Olivia. I’m in love with Victoria, and this—” I gesture to the men standing behind her “—isn’t going to change anything. It’s time to move on.”

“I’m not giving you up without a fight, Caleb!” Her voice becomes shrill, and she raises a hand to slap my face.

But Terry is there before her palm can connect with my cheek. “Okay, fun time is over. Time to leave.”

He escorts her towards the door, Olivia yelling at him, “Get your fucking hands off me. Wait till my father hears about this.”

“Enough, Olivia.” I flank her on the other side, while Terry keeps right on moving as if he never even heard the threat.

“Caleb, please,” she whines, switching on a pin. “Don’t do this. Can we talk about it somewhere private?”

“There’s nothing left to say, Olivia.”

She struggles to free herself from Terry’s iron grip, with no success. “You’ll fucking regret this, Caleb. My father will never forgive you for this…”

The men in black follow her outside, and I close the door behind them.

I know this isn’t the end of it, but Olivia Dragonetti isn’t going to win.