That Time I Accidentally Took Over the Mafia (Accidental)

Chapter 26

I should have let Enzo rest more, but my vagina was especially ravenous. I woke him up with my mouth on his cock in the middle of the night, only to be thrown onto my back and pillaged by him. Then, this morning, I gave him gentle kisses and stroked his cock until he woke up with a sly smile.

He pulled me on top of him and whispered to me as I rode him—how much he missed me, how sorry he was that he left me, and how he wants me here, with them, every day. It healed something, mending a deep crack in my heart that he had inflicted before.

I leave Enzo asleep, lying on his stomach with one leg bent. He’s hugging the pillow I slept on, his face buried in it. Jax didn’t sleep with us. I think he wanted to give us some time alone—or maybe he didn’t want to leave Luca. Perhaps a bit of both.

In nothing but my birthday suit, I walk through the hall to my room for a pair of underwear, then head to Jax’s room and steal a new shirt.

The sounds of life float through the house as I head to the kitchen, where I find Jax and Luca sitting around the table with a pile of papers and folders. Jax is standing, leaning with one hand on the table and the other pointing to something in the pile in front of them. Luca is sitting, his laptop pushed to one side as he drinks a cup of coffee.

They both hear me coming, and Jax straightens, meeting me as I walk over.

“Nice shirt.” He grins, pinching the fabric between two fingers and pulling me to him by it. He gives me a morning kiss, a swipe of his tongue teasing me for more, but he pulls away. “Go sit. I’ll make you a plate.” He pats my ass as he walks to the counter. “That shirt is going to be my favorite shirt now.”

“I’m stealing another one tomorrow,” I call back, padding over to the table.

“Then that one will be my favorite tomorrow.” He’s so damn cute when he winks at me, those mouthwatering dimples on display.

“Good morning.” I rub Luca’s chest as I walk around him, then invite myself to sit on his leg. I’m careful not to put my ass in his lap. I know he wants to talk about… us, and while I love teasing him, I want to respect that impending conversation.

“Lenny,” he protests halfheartedly as his hand moves to my thigh.

I turn and cup his jaw with my hand, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “You jumped into a raging river for me.” My eyes scan his, and I see them soften. “Don’t push me away now.” Emotion rises within me, and my voice cracks on the last few words. “Can I just sit next to you?”

I move to stand, but he tightens his hold on my hip, his other hand grabbing my inner thigh. “Don’t—get up.”

The rush of warmth that surges through me makes me grin, and he leans his head on my shoulder. “You’re trouble, Len. You know that? Trouble with a capital fucking T.”

“Well, I work hard at it, so thank you for the compliment.” I wriggle back and forth with a sing-song tune, and he growls.

“You’re going to have to be still, though.”

“Hm, we’ll see.”

Jax sets down a plate of pancakes, and I may burst into a multi-orgasmic state just from looking at it.

“Oh my god, Jax.” I literally drool as he sets the plate in front of me. “Marry me.”

“I tried to once. I’ll gladly try again.” He smirks when I smack his arm. “Just let me know when you’re ready for Wedding 2.0, and I’ll be there.”

If I’ve died and gone to heaven, then I’m so damn glad the sky daddy let me through the pearly gates. Three fluffy pancakes steam on the plate, topped with roasted peaches, nuts, and warm maple syrup. Jax delivers a small bowl of cream, and I remember our texts.

“Peaches and cream.” I chuckle. “You slut.” My jab at his earlier text earns me another wink as he puts a fresh sucker in his mouth.

I cut a decent-sized bite, making sure to get a little bit of everything, and the food makes love to my taste buds. If I wasn’t dead before, I am now. The pancakes are buttery soft, the tender peaches oven-roasted in a cinnamon bourbon glaze, and the toasted nuts add a perfect crunch. It’s so good I close my eyes, lean my head back, and release a satisfied moan as the flavors burst in my mouth.

“Jax, goddamn,” I mutter, shaking my head as I cut another bite. I turn around, giving this one to Luca. He squints at me but lets me feed it to him. “You couldn’t cook like this before the slammer.”

“Yeah, I worked in the kitchens and picked up a few skills. I had to do something to pass the time other than jack off thinking about you two and working the prison network for information on the Caputo heiress murder-for-hire.”

“Oh my god. I nearly forgot,” I say between bites, taking a drink of orange juice. “Fuck, he even freshly squeezed the oranges, didn’t he?”

“No, but he made me do it. Every single one.” Luca grumbles, taking a piece of the pepper-and-brown-sugar bacon. “I’m getting him a goddamn juicer for Christmas.”

“Well, it’s delicious.”

Luca is grumpy on purpose, but his fingers tenderly rub my thigh with such softness that I know he’s faking it.

“So, I chatted up this old lady in the bathroom. She said my dad was the one that put the hits out on me. Is that true?”

“No, he was the first person I looked at once I found out your name was at the top of the mafia kill list.” Luca holds my leg firmly, as if making sure I know I’m safe now.

“Dang, the top?” My eyebrows rise as more pancakes disappear down the hatch. Luca taps my leg and nods toward the plate, so I spear another bite for him. “Open.”

He raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say I’m pushing it, and I return it with a sly grin.

“It’s an underboss within one of the families trying to make a power grab, or it’s a rival clan like the Irish,” Jax says, stealing a piece of bacon and dodging when I try to stab his hand with my fork. “Everybody wants to be top dog.”

“Yeah, well, there’s only room for one bitch at the top.”

“Oh, I love it when you’re feisty.” Jax goes for another piece of bacon, but I successfully fend him off this time.

I set my fork down, looking at the two of them, and lean in. “So, who’s trying to make me the next ‘Caputo casualty,’ and why?” I ask, my voice steady, though my brain is still trying to process the fact that I’m now a pawn in some twisted mafia chess game.

Jax doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he slides a thick stack of photos across the table—blown-up, high-quality color images that scream professional surveillance work. This isn’t the grainy black-and-white stuff from TV crime shows. This is the work of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.

“These,” Jax says, tapping the stack, “are from our surveillance on the Serrano family.” He meets my gaze, his eyes serious. “I know you don’t know who they are yet, but trust me, you’ll want to.”

I look down at the photos, scanning them quickly. There are people coming and going from various buildings, cars parked in random spots. It’s clear someone’s been tailing these people for a while now.

“Who are they?” I ask, trying to make sense of it all.

Luca leans forward, pointing to one specific photo—a man in a tailored suit walking through a back alley with a briefcase. “This is Marco Serrano. Mid-level guy in the Serrano family. We’ve been tracking him for months. He’s trying to make some serious power moves.” He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in. “And not in a good way.”

Jax picks up where Luca left off. “He’s been making connections with some unsavory types—arms dealers, money launderers, you name it. Whoever’s trying to destabilize the Caputo family, Marco’s definitely got his fingerprints all over it.”

I swallow hard, the pieces starting to fall into place. “You think Marco’s behind the hits on me?”

“He’s too much of an idiot to be the mastermind, but he’s definitely acting like a fixer,” Luca responds, his hand tightening on my thigh. “If he’s involved, we can use him to get to the boss behind it all. This isn’t just about taking you down. It’s about getting control of the Caputo family—and the power that comes with it.”

I lean against Luca, trying to let the information sink in. The weight of it presses down on me. This isn’t just about surviving anymore. It’s about winning, taking control, becoming who I was meant to be.

“Well, I’m not planning on sitting around and waiting to get taken down.” I stare at the two of them, my resolve hardening. “Let’s lure him out. I’ll be the bait. If he’s an idiot?—”

“No.” Luca doesn’t even let me finish.

“Yes,” I snap, partially turning so I can face him. “If you wanted to lock me in an ivory tower, then you should’ve done that when you kidnapped me.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” Luca’s face flushes with frustration. “It takes a lot to keep you safe, and you want to just piss on that and throw yourself into the line of fire? No fucking way.”

I get off his lap now, carrying my plate to the sink, needing some distance. “Well, by all means, keep being a brooding asshole and keeping me in the dark. That’s working so wonderfully for you.” I set the plate down with a little more force than I intend.

Luca stands, pushing the chair back like it offends him. “You’ll do this our way.”

“Then you don’t fucking know me at all. Perhaps you should’ve stayed around an extra few minutes to at least wipe my blood off your cock before you ran away.” I regret the words the instant they leave my mouth.

“Dels,” Jax’s tone is a low warning.

“No, fuck this.” Luca grabs his phone from the table and stomps toward the hall. “Let her go off and get herself killed so the last six fucking years can be a goddamn waste.”

I give Jax my back, leaning against the counter with my arms folded over my chest, staring at the kitchen floor. I ignore the scrape of Jax’s chair and the sound of his footsteps approaching. He tosses his half-eaten sucker in the trash and stands in front of me.

He rubs his hands up my arms and then tilts my chin so I’m forced to meet his gaze.

“I can’t help you two fix each other,” he says softly, his eyes searching mine.

“He doesn’t want to fix anything. He just wants to lock me in a bubble,” I mutter, my voice low and raw. I circle Jax’s waist with my arms, holding him, never wanting to let him go as he cups my face gently with his hands.

“Luca is just frustrated he hasn’t figured it out yet. The world’s best hacker, and he’s missing one key,” Jax murmurs, leaning down to kiss me tenderly. “It’s the one thing he needs to make sure the girl of his dreams can live a safe life.”

I snort, trying to push back the emotions welling up in me.

“No, ma’am. Don’t you scoff at that.” His eyes lighten with amusement, and one of those irresistible dimples makes an appearance. “You are the girl of our dreams, Delaney.”

“Oh, I have no question about that,” I reply with a small smile, my anger melting under his touch. Jax matches my smile with his own, shaking his head slightly. “The ‘safe life’ part. I’m supposed to be the queenpin of the Italian mob. Are you going to convince me that will be a safe life?”

“Point taken.” He grins and kisses me again, his tongue brushing mine in a teasing swipe before pulling back.

“I need to protect myself,” I say, my tone firm.

Jax raises an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on his face. “Oh, don’t worry, Peach. We’ll make sure you’re ready for whatever comes. Starting with teaching you how to use something better than a spatula.”

I lean back in mock offense, trapped between the counter behind me and the solid wall of muscle in front of me. “Don’t disrespect The Spat. It kept me alive at the club last night. You’re telling me I’m going to have to rely on something else now?”

“The Spat?” Jax repeats, his grin widening. Clearly, he doesn’t appreciate the weapon’s nickname. “It’s great for close-range, but I’d prefer your enemies not get close enough to use a fucking spatula.”

I roll my eyes, trying not to smile. “Fine, I’ll upgrade The Spat to something that actually kills people from a distance. Happy now?”

Jax nips at my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’d be surprised how fun it is to shoot a gun. And how satisfying it is to know that when shit goes down, you’ll be able to handle it.”

“We’ll see about that when I throw up after killing someone,” I mutter, reluctantly giving in. “But I’m in. Teach me everything.”

“I’ll teach you, Peach. But just remember—guns aren’t just tools. They’re a commitment. If you’re going to carry one, you need to be ready to use it when the time comes. No hesitation.”

I meet his gaze with a steady nod. “Oh, I won’t hesitate. I’ll bust a cap, on the spot.”

“Okay, Al Capone, take it easy.” Jax chuckles, stepping back and stretching. I make it very clear I’m enjoying the view of his low-riding sweatpants and the deep-V that disappears into his waistband. “First, let’s get you dressed. While I’d prefer to keep you in nothing but my shirts twenty-four-seven, you need pants on, at minimum.”

“Fine, party pooper.” I jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He holds me effortlessly. “Where are we going to practice shooting?”

“The barn.” Jax points toward the building on the property—a place I know they use for torture, interrogation, and disposal.

Perfect.