Power (The Santini Assassins #1)

13. The Confession

13

THE CONFESSION

SIMONE

S imone lay panting on the bed, sated, yet still ravenous with desire. She was buzzing high on Luciano. He returned from the bathroom.

“I’m gonna lose my job,” she murmured to herself.

“No, you won’t.” He laid next to her, pulled her onto his chest.

“First, you weren’t supposed to hear that and, are we cuddling?”

“Intermission while I reload.” She lifted her head. “Would you rather I sit across the room in the chair?” he asked.

Of course she wouldn’t. She loved how their bodies melded together, loved his beautiful olive skin and hardened, defined muscles. She ran soft fingertips over his chest and shoulder, then down his arm.

She didn’t want to admit she liked their closeness, but she didn’t want to give him a smarmy answer that might cause him to move away from her. So, she said nothing.

He caressed her back with a tender touch. “I didn’t think so.”

“We can’t do this again.”

“You’re right,” he murmured.

Despite knowing it was for the best, her heart sunk.

He ran his fingers over her shoulder, then gently nudged her onto her back. Rather than get out of bed, he rolled toward her, leaned up on his elbow, and peered into her eyes.

With a tender touch, he ran his fingers over her chest, then down her abs. As he made his way back up, he caressed one breast, then the other before winding his way back up her chest, her neck, and finally, cupping her face with his hand and turning her toward him.

Then, he leaned over and dropped a worshipful kiss on her lips. “You’re taking on a difficult case and you’re doing it out of loyalty to your friend. I respect you for that.” He kissed her again. “Without much to go on, you’re going to get frustrated.”

“No doubt.” With the pads of her fingers, she traced his strong, straight nose, then caressed his dark, rough stubble. When she stared into his beautiful hazel eyes, her heart skipped a beat.

She liked him, and that left her feeling unsettled and vulnerable.

“That’s where I come in.” He kissed her, this time dipping his talented tongue into her mouth.

And… just like that, the energy shifted.

Slow, gentle strokes with his tongue that sent a series of tingles flowing through her. He slowed the kiss, then ended it, leaving her desperate for more. When he moved over her, she felt the snare of his line, the way he hooked her with a simple touch or the intensity in his eyes.

One kiss on each cheek, then her chin before he worshiped her body with his mouth, leaving his scent, and marking her with his essence. He kissed her abs, her pelvic area, and the insides of her thighs, working his way closer and closer to the small, hidden pearl between her legs.

“When you’re not making any headway,” he said, “I will relax you.”

She watched the most handsome man she’d ever known bury his face between her legs and devour her in a long, possessive lick. Once, twice, and on the third time, he rolled his tongue over her clit.

And her body bowed to his. Every action elicited a reaction. He stroked her thigh, she emitted a purr, he licked her core, she moaned, he slid three fingers inside her and she released a cry. The pleasure he brought her was unrelenting. He knew when to be intense, how to bring her to the edge, then ease her back down. She was a puppet and he the master, controlling the amount of pleasure he doled out.

She could not get enough.

As the passion continued to build, she promised herself she would protect her heart.

I’ll be chill. I’ll accept that his world and my world are different. He’s a billionaire executioner and I’m… I’m…

“Coming,” she cried out as the orgasm powered through her like a tornado shredding everything in its path.

I’m a goner.

She floated back to earth feeling completely at ease.

He lay beside her. “Ms. Redding, we’re gonna have fun working this case.”

She never wanted this blissful state to end, never wanted to return to reality where a madman was stepping back into the spotlight by taking out a group of highly trained, highly skilled Operatives.

Nothing like returning with a bang.

And here she was spending her Saturday in bed with a man who made more in a minute than she made all year. A man who could have any woman, but he chose her.

Is it because I showed up on his doorstep? Probably .

Despite the cold, harsh reality that was creeping in, she would focus on the positive. They’d work the case, have sex, she’d solve it, he’d eliminate the killer. They’d agree it had been fun and they’d move on.

Loss and loneliness settled into her bones.

On a shiver, she pushed out of bed. “I should take off. I came here to tell you about Peter.”

After he rose from the bed, he flashed her a killer smile. “You look like you got sexed real good.”

“You are some kind of cocky, you know that?”

“The best kind. We should get ready. It’s time to head back to Carrera’s for Elsa’s feast.”

There was no clock in the room, she’d left her phone in the car. “What time is it?”

“It’s five-thirty,” he replied.

“Wow, we’ve been at it for a while.”

“Not long enough.” He kissed her, then escorted her to the bathroom.

Her neat French twist had turned into an explosion of hair, but it was the happiness in her eyes that surprised her the most.

She was having fun with him. More fun than she’d had in a long, long time.

An hour later, she parked in front of Slash and Carrera’s home. Up the walkway she went, then she tried the front door. It was locked, so she rang the doorbell.

Seconds later, Slash swung it wide. With a smile, she said, “There you are. Everything okay?”

Simone entered the house. “All good.”

As they headed toward the kitchen, Slash murmured, “If you need to talk… about anything.”

“Thank you for being there for me. I’m ready to start work on Monday.”

“Training’s gonna be fun.”

They entered the kitchen. Gabriel and Teddy were seated at the counter. Carrera was helping his grandmother at the stove. Slash returned to the center island to finish cutting vegetables for a salad.

Gabriel turned. “I thought Luciano was with you.”

Simone shot him a cool smile. “Why would you think that?”

Mischief danced in Gabriel’s eyes. “Brotherly intuition.”

He knows.

Simone had too much on her mind to care. She sidled next to Slash. “What can I do to help?”

Slash pulled out another cutting board and knife, then slid vegetables toward her. “Elsa said it isn’t a salad unless there’s ten different vegetables.”

“Ten,” Simone said as she rinsed a few mushrooms.

She glanced over at Gabriel and Teddy. “Gabriel, what do you do in Italy?”

“I own several wineries and I run Euro Operations at Santini International,” he replied. “I’ve been in Italy for several years now.”

Elsa put her arm around Gabriel. “I wish I could see you more.”

“I’m here all the time, Elsa.” He kissed the top of her head, and she smiled.

“You’re a good boy.”

“No, I’m not,” Gabriel pushed back. “I’m a baddy.” He winked at Simone.

“He is, G-ma,” Teddy said as he swiped a celery stick and started munching on it.

“Luciano is approaching the front door,” the surveillance system announced.

Simone’s cheeks warmed, her pulse quickened. She flicked her attention toward the hallway, eager to see him again.

The front door opened, then shut.

Relax. He’s just a guy.

Anticipation sent a tremble skirting through her.

No, he’s not just a guy. He’s a powerful, charming, and completely charismatic man.

When Luciano strode into the room, the air became electric, the swirling energy halting her breath. He skimmed the group. When he homed in on her, a shadow darkened his eyes. The desire to go to him, pull him close, and kiss him breathless had her leaning against the counter to stop herself.

In his hand, he held four large black shopping bags, the word SANTINI emblazoned in gold across each one.

Then, he flashed the group a movie-star smile and held up the bags. His family clamored around him, but she stayed cemented behind the large island, watching the scene unfold.

“Elsa, for you.” He handed his grandmother a bag. With a childlike smile, she retreated to her lounge chair in the family room and peered inside.

“Lulu,” she exclaimed as she extracted a garment, then another, and finally a third.

He’d gifted her a pastel pink blousy shirt, a pair of black cashmere gloves, and a matching cashmere scarf.

Next, he handed Slash a bag. She extracted a black halter shirt, black jeans, and a black cashmere scarf like the one he’d given his grandmother. Slash grinned. “I love you, Lulu. These rock.” She wrapped the scarf around her neck.

Then, he pulled out three identical black cashmere sweaters for Carrera, Gabriel, and Teddy.

Carrera pulled his on over his T-shirt. “Nice.”

As everyone was admiring their gifts, he turned his full attention on her. One step at a time, he stalked over to her and offered her the final bag. “Simone.”

She could feel the pull, the invisible tug to touch him, to hold him close and run her fingers through his luscious hair or caress his chiseled face.

“Thank you.” She lifted out an espresso-colored cashmere scarf. “It’s beautiful.”

He gently draped the plush garment around her neck. “It’s perfect on you.”

She started to set down the bag, when he said, “There’s more.”

To her surprise, a silky black garment lay neatly folded at the bottom of the bag. She lifted out a beautiful silk negligée. Though she could have been embarrassed by the intimate apparel, she was not.

Then, he reached inside the bag, pulled out a matching silk robe. “For the next time,” he murmured. “When you don’t have to leave.”

She stared at him for the longest time, unsure she’d even heard him correctly.

“Yowza,” Teddy blurted, his boisterous voice snapping her out of her Luciano trance. “That’s some sexy-sexy.”

“It’s very zhuzhy,” she said to Luciano. “Thank you.”

He kissed her cheek. “I can’t wait to see you in them.” After kissing her other cheek, he whispered, “And out of them.”

Her insides quivered while her heart galloped in her chest. He was slaying her with his words. The air crackled with fiery energy, but the room had grown eerily silent. All eyes on them. Breaking away, she tucked the items back in the bag and returned to reality.

Salad making.

Teddy held up a beer and a bottle of wine. “Who wants what?”

“Nothing for me.” Luciano pulled a bottle of sparkling water from the refrigerator. “Any takers?”

As he twisted the lid, Simone said, “Water for me.”

“Same,” Slash added.

“Lulu,” Teddy said, “why is everything a competition?”

“Here we go,” Carrera mumbled.

“This has nothing to do with you, Teddy,” Luciano answered while filling three glasses. “I’ll have wine with dinner, fratello.”

“Wine for me,” Gabriel said, taking the bottle from Teddy.

Teddy glared at Luciano, but Luciano just chuckled.

“Whatever,” Teddy grumbled before opening the beer and draining half the bottle.

After Gabriel poured Elsa a glass of chianti, she held it up. “Alla famiglia.”

Everyone toasted, then drank.

“Boys, when are you going to stop competing?” Elsa asked.

“Everything is a competition,” Teddy replied.

“Not here,” Luciano said. “Not here, brother.”

Someone is approaching the front door,” the security system announced. “An unknown male.”

The doorbell rang and Carrera headed toward the foyer.

Simone’s phone buzzed and she read the incoming text from an unknown number. “If you take that case, you’re a dead woman.”

Ohgod.

She stared at the words, the threat filling her with dread.

“Heyyyyo!” a male voice called out, hijacking her attention.

“Ah, fuck,” Luciano murmured under his breath.

LUCIANO

Luciano wasn’t interested in spending time with Willie Boy, but he’d take full advantage. Just because he didn’t respect his cousin didn’t mean he’d be a total jackass. With his signature smile in place, he opened his arms, embraced the Santini in a two-cheeked kiss.

“How’ve you been?” Luciano asked.

But Willie Boy was too busy eyeing the designer shopping bags. “Where’s my present?”

Elsa appeared, but Willie Boy didn’t acknowledge her.

“Show some respect,” Luciano said, trying to keep his annoyance in check.

Willie Boy smiled. “Where’s my present, please ?”

“I’m talking about Elsa,” Luciano said.

“Hey, G-ma, how’s it goin’?” Willie Boy asked, his eyes glued on Simone. “Who’s the hot chick? She’s gotta be—what—almost six feet. I’d like to climb her.”

Luciano grabbed Willie Boy by the scruff of his ratty T-shirt. “Enough!” he roared.

Teddy appeared next to Luciano. “What’s your problem, Willie Boy?”

“I’m joking.” Willie Boy tucked his long hair behind one ear. “Why the hell is everyone so damn uptight?”

“Don’t be a dick to the ladies and show them some damn manners,” Teddy said. “And say hello to G-ma.”

Willie Boy air-pecked his grandmother’s cheek. “Mwah,” he said. “What’s for dinner, G-ma?”

Luciano slid his gaze to his grandmother.

“I invited him,” Elsa said.

“I see a shit-ton of Santini designer bags,” Willie Boy said.

“You can have mine.” Teddy handed Willie Boy his cashmere sweater.

Willie Boy pulled it on, but he was swimming in it. Teddy was twice as muscular and several inches taller. Willie Boy stared down at the sweater, then yanked it off.

“This doesn’t fit,” Willie Boy said. “Swing by the restaurant and bring me something.”

Luciano gritted his teeth. He took orders from no one, especially his lazy-ass cousin.

“La cena è pronta,” Elsa said. “Mangiamo.”

Luciano broke from the group, his gaze trained on Simone. He was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t comprehend. Might’ve been her composure. Maybe her cool aloofness. Definitely her beauty, poise, and possibly the best poker face he’d ever seen.

“Who’s the class act?” she whispered.

He had to touch her, so he ran his hand over her back.

“Lower,” she whispered.

He dropped his hand to the middle of her back.

“Almost,” she urged him on.

When he ran his hand over her ass, a purr rolled out of her. And blood rushed through his veins.

“Better?” he murmured.

Her sly smile was her only reply.

With the large salad bowl in one hand, he placed his other hand on the small of her back and guided her to the table. He set the bowl in the center, pulled out a chair for her. When she sat, he eased down at the head, across from Carrera.

“Willie Boy, will you say grace?” Elsa asked.

“Nah, I’m no good at that,” Willie Boy replied.

“I got this,” Luciano replied.

Everyone bowed their heads, but he found himself anchored on Simone.

“Heavenly Father, please bless the food we are about to eat. Thank you for our time together as a family. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she raised her head. When she turned in his direction, everything became crystal clear. Their relationship had potential to become something significant. Maybe even something worth fighting for.

Dishes got passed around and plates were loaded up with food. His grandmother was her happiest when her family was together, sharing conversations over a homemade meal.

Luciano made the introduction between Willie Boy and Simone.

“Who do you know here?” Willie Boy asked her.

“No one,” Simone replied dryly. “I just wandered in.”

The group laughed.

“She’s funny,” Willie Boy said. “Slash, is she your friend?”

“Yup,” Slash confirmed.

“Come to my restaurant,” Willie Boy said. “Ask for me.”

“He owns Willie Boy’s in Old Town,” Luciano explained.

“How’s Saturday?” Willie Boy guzzled his beer, then tried squelching his belch, but it exploded out of him anyway.

“I’m taking on a new client,” Simone answered, “and I don’t want to commit to anything until I get into a rhythm.”

“Are you a dancer or somethin’?” Willie Boy asked.

“I’m a personal shopper,” Simone replied. “I have a new client who’s very demanding. From what I can tell, he’ll be monopolizing all my time.”

“I don’t get the rhythm thing.” Willie Boy shoved too much lasagna into his mouth. “Swing by anytime,” he said his mouth crammed with food. “I’m there every day.”

While the chatter continued, Luciano found himself peering over at Simone throughout the meal. He expected she’d be quiet, but the crease between her brows had deepened. She didn’t strike him as someone who would get unnerved about work, but The Bomb Maker case was personal to her.

Very personal.

After dinner, Luciano poured a small amount of Santini Whiskey into several lowball glasses. While the family started cleaning up, Luciano suggested he and Willie Boy talk outside on the screened porch.

Willie Boy sank onto the sofa, tipped the glass of top-shelf booze to his mouth, and tossed the alcohol back. Then, he relaxed back, clasped his hands behind his head and said, “She likes me, I can tell.”

Luciano chuckled.

“What? You don’t think someone as sophisticated as Simone is into me?”

No, I don’t.

Luciano leaned against the chair rail, sipped the whiskey that bore his name.

“I promised your dad I’d watch out for you,” Luciano began.

“Yeah, well I don’t need no babysitter. We ran the business, fifty-fifty.”

The business Willie Boy was referring to was his family’s illegal business, the one Luciano got out of years ago. The same one that his father and his uncle co-ran before his father got murdered and his uncle was sent to prison. But what Willie Boy didn’t know was that his uncle had told Luciano to manage the business solo.

He’d said, “I love my boy, but he doesn’t have the business smarts you do, so give him somethin’ to keep him busy, and you take care of things.”

The Santini crime family was once the most revered and feared families on the east coast. Now, they were a bunch of disorganized hoodlums. Luciano didn’t give a damn about any of that. That was Willie Boy’s problem.

“I don’t want you offering counterfeit money to strangers,” Luciano said.

“He’s an associate of mine and you got the bills,” Willie Boy pushed back. “It’s a legit business opportunity.”

“Counterfeit money isn’t legit, Willie Boy.”

“If you’re worried Dante’s law enforcement, he’s not.”

“How do you know him?”

“We go back a-ways.”

Luciano waited. It was always this way with Willie Boy. A simple question got him a simple answer. One that explained nothing.

Tedious didn’t begin to describe this convo. He glanced into the house. The group had moved into the family room, but Simone stood alone in the kitchen, staring at her phone. Her lips were slashed in a thin line, the divot between her brows still etched deep.

An urgent need to check on her had agitation streaking down his spine.

“I’ve done business with him,” Willie Boy said.

“Doing what?”

While clucking his tongue, Willie Boy stroked his shaven cheeks. These two tells alerted Luciano that his cousin was anxious or about to lie.

“I hired him to do a job. Jesus! Why is everything the fucking inquisition with you? He’s looking for boodle. You got it. It’s a simple exchange of services?—”

“What did we learn as kids?” Luciano asked.

“How to swindle people? I dunno. Whad we learn?”

“Family first, and never trust an outsider.” Luciano sipped the whiskey. “Don’t put me in that position again.”

“I’ll buy the boodle from you,” Willie Boy said.

His cousin didn’t have the finances to do a large deal like that. Moreover, Luciano still had no idea who Dante was.

“Take him to Papà,” Luciano suggested.

Fear clouded Willie Boy’s eyes. “Carlo Garibaldi won’t do business with me.”

Luciano glanced inside. Simone was gone. Dammit . As he made his way toward the door, he spotted her in the family room.

“Dante’s puttin’ the squeeze on me,” Willie Boy blurted. “I kinda owe him.”

“Well, I don’t.” Luciano strode inside as Simone vanished up the stairs.

“Goodnight, Simone,” he said.

When she turned, he couldn’t miss the concern in her eyes. “Goodnight, Luciano.” She continued on.

Every muscle in his body urged him up the stairs, but he didn’t want to hound her.

Fuck it.

He took the stairs two at a time. She was entering the guest bedroom.

“Wait,” he said as he pulled alongside her.

Intensity radiated from her, but it was the worry in her eyes that had him stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been a long week.”

The longer she held his gaze the stronger the desire to pull her close, but she opened the door, stepped into the room. “I’ll see you Monday.”

She shut the door, leaving him wondering what the hell had happened in the last hour and a half. She wasn’t okay. Of that he was certain.

He would respect her need for privacy, but starting Monday, no more secrets.