That Time I Accidentally Took Over the Mafia (Accidental)

Chapter 9

E nzo and Luca’s conversation about the suspicions surrounding my father’s death—about the strange activity and the war between families—keeps echoing in my mind. My eyes flick to them in the front seat.

Luca is driving, one hand on the wheel while the other grips Enzo’s thigh in a possessive hold, drawing lazy circles on his leg. Enzo scrolls on his phone, unbothered.

Something about seeing them like this—it’s comforting in a way I don’t quite understand. Each of them hurt me, and I swore I would hate them for the rest of my life. But then I turned the dynamics of our relationships into dark romance books and became a best-selling author. My series all revolve around these three men:

My stepbrother.

My ex-fiancé.

My billionaire boss.

They may have tossed me out of their lives, but no matter how much I pretend I’ve moved on, the truth is they’re burrowed so deep under my skin, it’s impossible to remove them.

Pulling my gaze away, I open the burner phone Luca gave me yesterday. I check the apps, and sure enough, several of the ones I use for mindless scrolling are already set up with fake accounts.

I search for news about yesterday’s shootout—or, you know, my fucking house blowing up. But there’s nothing. Not a single peep. If I hadn’t been there, watching a swarm of shooters dart across my yard and pepper my house with bullets, you could argue I imagined it all.

But there were deaths. The florist, shot through the head. The attackers, their bodies scattered across my lawn like grotesque garden gnomes. And Stacie—she had a whole fridge dropped on her head like something out of a goddamn Acme cartoon.

And yet... nothing. No news. No chatter in the local neighborhood groups. Just silence.

Could they really have cleaned up that many bodies so quickly? Silenced the neighbors? How do you explain a house explosion?

The thought only fuels the nagging suspicion about my mother. Was she a victim of the mafia too, her death swept under the rug to protect secrets? Secrets that died with those who knew them.

Scrolling through social media, I let the short videos distract me, pushing away the heavy thoughts of hot chocolate, a ghostly little girl, and a murdered mother. I search for my favorite influencers and follow them.

Cutting my eyes at Luca, I bite back a sly grin as I refollow Moanster23. Luca keeps driving, still rubbing Enzo’s leg, paying me no mind—but I feel like he’ll be watching everything I do on this phone.

Moanster23 hasn’t posted since the night of my date when I relieved myself in the bathroom. I wonder if Luca will spy on the accounts I follow. Maybe he’ll take a peek at a few of Moanster’s posts. My favorites are the ones where his body is in the frame—never his face or hands, though. Those are usually... busy.

Just his ridiculously hot chest, with that birthmark on his left pec and a tease of his abs. A mic picks up the slick sounds of his lubed hand stroking his cock, his breathing, his moans. And the whimpers. God, the whimpers. They’re award-winning.

I’m staring blankly at Luca and Enzo when the burner phone buzzes with a text.

I glance at the screen and roll my eyes. Of course, it’s Jax.

He’s programmed his name as:

Husband

I’ll be fixing that immediately…

Douche Canoe

Much better.

Douche Canoe : see something you like up there?

Me: Has anyone told you how nosey you are?

Douche Canoe : yes

Douche Canoe : answer the question

Me: Suck a fat cock.

Douche Canoe : I have. both of theirs to be specific

I’m not commenting on that. Locking the screen, I drop the phone into my bag.

Buzz.

Ignored.

Buzz. Buzz.

Oh, a double text. The desperation builds. I slide the phone deeper into my bag, locking eyes with Jax the entire time. His glare of frustration is priceless.

Awww. Someone doesn’t like this game.

Clearing my throat, I look to the front seat. “I heard you guys talking in front of the motel room door last night.” I lean back, resting an elbow on the console between Jax and me.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re nosey?” Luca doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but I hope the holes I’m boring into his head are burning.

Jax snorts a laugh, and I glance at Luca, wondering if he somehow knows what Jax just texted me. That can’t be though, right? I give a weary side-eye glare at Jax as a possible co-conspirator.

“Has anyone ever told you to stop being a giant dildo?” I shoot back, but Jax chuckles.

Luca’s navy eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror, stripping me bare. “I knew you were eavesdropping. No point pretending.”

“Yeah? How would you know if you weren’t eavesdropping yourself?”

His wry smile flashes before he looks back at the road. “Touché.”

Jax flips the center console up and reaches into my bag, pulling out the burner phone and dropping it back into my lap. “I think we can all agree Delaney’s got the right to know what’s going on.”

Buzz.

He wiggles his phone at me, like I don’t know he’s texting me.

With a groan, I reluctantly unlock the screen.

Douche Canoe : would you watch me suck their cocks for you?

Douche Canoe : how fucking delicious would they be mixed with the taste of you?

Douche Canoe : like peaches and cream

Douche Canoe : you cant ignore us forever Peach. we’re inevitable

Now I’m wet. Perfect . My mouth hangs open for a moment before I snap it shut.

Me: I would have zero interest in that.

Enzo has been relatively quiet during the drive, but now he speaks, darkening his phone and resting his hand over Luca’s. “Your father wasn’t just the boss of the Italians. He was a strong ally with other families like the Russian Bratva. Since he’s died, things have started to unravel quickly.”

Douche Canoe : you use punctuation when you text

Douche Canoe : weirdo

Me: I happen to be a bestselling author. I can’t help that my natural sense of excellence overflows into other areas of my life.

Enzo continues, his voice low but intense. “Old alliances have fractured. People who were supposed to stay loyal... aren’t.”

Douche Canoe : are your panties overflowing right now thinking about how much of their cocks I can fit down my throat?

I shift in my seat, and I can feel him grinning next to me.

Me: You just used punctuation. Super weird.

I cut Jax a warning glare, but he clearly doesn’t take it that way, his thumbs flying across the screen again.

“And you found some fishy transactions, like money laundering? Does the mafia still do that, like the good-old-days?” I ask Luca. I catch the small twitch of his mouth, as if he wants to smile at my joke but doesn’t want to give me the satisfaction.

Buzz.

It’s Enzo who answers the question. “There’s been a lot of odd electronic traffic we’re tracking–payments that don’t make sense. The kind of stuff that shouldn’t have been moved, especially after your dad’s death. It looks an awful lot like someone’s been cleaning up the tracks.”

Douche Canoe : which pair of panties are you wearing? the red ones?

Me: You’re about to get blocked.

“How can you tell?” I ask, genuinely curious, while also trying to ignore the growing heat from Jax’s relentless flirting.

“Because it’s the same type of stuff we would do when we move on a family’s territory and take it over,” Luca says, finally weighing in. “Except it’s a lot sloppier. Intentionally so.”

Douche Canoe : or are you not wearing any?

It’s a natural reflex that makes me bite my lip, I swear. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I am not wearing panties and I would totally not mind if he checked.

Douche Canoe : I can just check for myself if you dont want to answer.

He’s a mind reader. A telepath. He can hear my thoughts. That’s the only explanation.

“So, someone is leaving messy electronic transactions on purpose?” The wheels in my mind are turning, secretly locking these details away to use in a future book. “Because that would distract you from the real stuff they’re actually trying to cover up.”

“She catches on quick.” Luca means it like a sarcastic insult, but I know it’s a genuine compliment. We may only have known each other for my first year in college, but I could read him like an open book then, and he’s no different now.

“It’s just a puzzle,” he adds, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “When I have enough pieces, I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

That seems to be the end of the conversation, so I look out the window again to see that we’ve driven beyond the storm. I wonder what their stake is in all of this.

Enzo said he was losing land deals. Maybe that’s his schtick?

I’m wondering what could have roped Jax and Luca into this when Jax’s warm hand slides across my thigh, pulling it slightly toward him. His touch travels north at an agonizingly slow pace, testing the waters. His other hand types rapidly on his phone.

Douche Canoe : shall we play a game?

I cut my eyes at him which I should not have done. He’s brought out his heavy artillery. His sly crooked smile has brought out one of his dimples.

Me: What kind of game?

Luca and Enzo have fallen into a conversation about the safe-house we’re heading to tonight and what time we should arrive.

Douche Canoe : the kind where I guess what panties ur wearing and then I get to check if I’m right

Me: What do you get if you win?

His slightly crooked grin morphs into a full-blown, shit-eating smile.

Douche Canoe : I get to slide my fingers into that wet cunt of yours

Jesus.

Douche Canoe : because I know you’re soaking wet Peach

Me: Dry as the Sahara over here.

Me: And what do I get if I win?

Douche Canoe : peace and quiet for the rest of the ride

I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head in consideration, forgetting Jax is watching me like a fucking hawk.

Douche Canoe : choices, choices

Douche Canoe : whats it going to be Peach?

With some quick girl-math, this is a ten-out-of-ten win for me. He has a fifty percent chance of being right. But me? I either get his thick fingers in my pussy (and yes, it’s totally bare and dripping wet) or hours of quiet time with my reading app and Moanster’s posts.

Me: Place your bets, gentlemen.

His hand squeezes my thigh a little tighter as he works to rein in that soul-crushing smile.

Douche Canoe : I’m certain theres nothing between your cunt and these torturous fucking yoga pants

With his prediction sent, his devilish hand moves up my leg and slips under the waistband of my pants. His eyes close briefly, and he releases a quiet sigh as he bites his lip, meeting nothing but freshly shaven skin.

Douche Canoe : Oh Peach

He types out the message with one hand while his other runs along the lips of my pussy, confirming how wet I am.

Douche Canoe : Youre fucking killing me

One finger circles my clit while two others tease my entrance.

Douche Canoe : I’ll make you come if you can stay quiet. Do you think you can?

He doesn’t look at his phone for my answer; his eyes lock onto mine, daring me. I nod, parting my legs slightly.

The tension in the backseat skyrockets, but Luca and Enzo remain oblivious.

My god I forget how many skills this man has when it comes to my vagina. I’m not sure how it happens. The only thing I can think of is that he’s a shape shifter. It’s like his hand transforms and his fingers turn into tentacles but I’m coming in under two minutes. I’m surprised the door handle is not dented with the impression of my fingers as I squeeze it keeping quiet.

I nearly do it until Jax flicks my clit a few final times with his fingernail and it wrenches the quietest of whimpers from me.

Luca’s eyes burn into mine in the rearview mirror, his grip tightening on the wheel.

“Jerk,” I mouth at Jax as he withdraws his hand and licks his fingers clean, smug as ever.

Enzo, seated directly in front of me, turns his head slightly. Though he can’t see me, the tick of his jaw tells me he knows what Jax was up to.

“This is not the time or place to finger-fuck our assignment,” Enzo scolds, his voice clipped.

“What can I say? Our girl’s tense.” Jax leans back in his seat, shameless. “I’m just helping her relax a little.”

I cross my arms, glaring. “I’m not a fucking assignment, you asshole. I’m a goddamn person.”