The Don's Legal Eagle's Baby: An Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romance

26. Emilio

”Hey, Lucas. I”ve got a task for you,” I said, my tone serious as I walked into my secret lab and made my way toward my busy workers.

Lucas spinned around on his chair, ready to assist. ”Sure thing, Emilio. What”s up?”

I chose my words carefully, knowing the importance of the task. ”I need your help locating information on someone—Griselda”s father. He was believed to be dead but she received information from her mom recently, that he was alive.”

Lucas understood the gravity of the situation.

”Done,” he affirmed with a shrug.

I decided to clarify, ”Do you need any specific information from me?”

”No need,” Lucas replied, his fingers already typing away on his keyboard. ”I had Griselda”s phone, remember?”

“Lucas, I trust you with this. But remember, Griselda”s privacy is paramount. Only gather what”s necessary to find her father.”

Despite my trust in Lucas, I couldn”t help but give him a warning look. making it clear that Griselda was off-limits, a line that should never be crossed.

Seeing my expression, Lucas raised his hands in playfull surrender. ”Hey, she”s all yours.”

I must have really looked intimidating because Lucas reassured me once more, ”don”t worry, I won”t overstep. Don’t have a death wish.” He turned back to his computer, and said over his shoulder, “when I find something, I‘ll let you know.” And with that his fingers were back working his keyboard.

A faint smile crossed my face at the thought of Griselda being ”mine.” I wanted to confess my feelings and allow myself to pursue her openly. Maybe once this ordeal was over.

I was still in thought, when Enzo approached, wearing a disgruntled expression. I couldn”t help but be amused by his obvious frustration. The only person who could annoy Enzo make him lose his cool, was Andrea.

”What”s got you all riled up, Enzo?” I asked, feigning innocence.

He grumbled in annoyance, ”Andrea. He was giving me a hard time about the supplies as if they were for me. I mean, it”s your operation.”

I burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. ”Why the glare? Andrea”s the one who should be getting an earful, not me.”

Enzo rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. ”Alright, spill it. What”s going on?”

Our conversation turned serious as I filled him in on the conversation with my father and the recent revelation of Griselda”s mother about her father.

Enzo was back to his typical calm demeanor, hiding his surprise well.

”There”s a lot Griselda doesn”t know yet, and her mother will tell her when she deems it safe.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow. ”Safe? Safe from what?”

I shook my head, ”Her mother didn”t elaborate much. Just mentioned it wasn”t safe for Griselda to come over.”

”What the hell is going on?”

”I honestly don”t know,” I admitted. ”But, as if it’s not enough that we have to find a mystery enemy using the Mancinis against us, we now have a second threat to investigate.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’ve asked Lucas to look into Griselda’s father. That leaves you and me open to go after the Mancini’s collaborator.”

Enzo”s looked at me with concern. ”Just be cautious, Emilio. We can”t afford any more surprises.”

”I will, Enzo,” offering him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as silent acknowledgment for his vigilance.

Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fished it out while keeping one arm around Enzo”s shoulders. The caller ID displayed Carlo”s name.

It wasn”t an everyday occurrence for him to call me. We hadn”t maintained a close relationship, especially after our childhood when it became clear I was the unfavored son.

Enzo noticed the caller ID, too and raised a questioning eyebrow. ”Carlo calling? That”s unusual. What could he want?”

I picked up the call, my tone all straight-to-business mode. ”Carlo, what”s the matter?”

Carlo”s voice crackled over the line, delivering news that rattled me to the core. I could only manage a shocked ”What?”

My arm slid off Enzo”s shoulder, my eyes widening in disbelief. The weight of those words crashed over me like a tidal wave, leaving me struggling to hold on to my phone.

Enzo voicelessly formed the words beside me, ”What happened?”

Carlo”s voice continued over the line, relaying the details, but I was no longer listening.

The words kept on replaying in my head. My father, the man who I had seen two days ago…was dead.***

I pushed my foot down on the gas pedal, my grip on the steering wheel tightening as I accelerated toward the Fiore family residence. Beside me, Enzo sat, visibly shaken by the sudden news of my father’s passing. The very idea of my father being gone felt like a cruel joke, an unimaginable reality.

”Emilio, are you certain he”s...?” Enzo”s words trailed off, unable to fully express the doubt that lingered in the air.

”I don”t know, Enzo,” I replied, my eyes fixed on the road ahead. The notion of this being a twisted prank seemed a true possibility. It couldn”t be real. There had to be some mistake.

As we arrived at the Fiore compound, I couldn”t wait to get out of the car. My steps felt too slow as I headed inside.

The atmosphere was heavy with grief and uncertainty. Members of the Fiore organization wore sorrowful expressions, their usual vivacity subdued by the news.

At the front, my uncle and brother were engaged in a solemn conversation. Throwing aside any pretense of formality, I made my way toward them, my voice shaky with a mix of grief and disbelief.

”What”s happening?” I demanded the question, leaving my lips before I was ready for the answer.

They exchanged glances, and the weight of their expressions confirmed the news. My uncle was the one to break it to me, confirming the unthinkable - my father was dead.

My abuser was gone, and it felt like a surreal blend of dream and nightmare.

I stood there, at a loss for words, grappling with the reality that I had both wished for and feared. My uncle”s comforting hand patted my shoulder, offering words of encouragement, but they felt distant, like echoes in a tunnel.

”You”ll need to be strong, Emilio,” my uncle”s voice reached me, but my mind was in a haze.

I looked at him blankly, unable to fully grasp what this meant for me. He left, leaving me alone with my thoughts, or so I thought, until my brother stepped forward, an unexpected concern in his voice.

It caught me off guard; today seemed to be a day of surprises. I couldn”t hide the confusion that painted my face.

Carlo seemed to choose his words carefully, acknowledging the weight of what had transpired. He mentioned the torment our father had put me through, and his concern felt genuine. I locked eyes with him, suspicious of his intentions. What was he trying to convey?

”What are you getting at?” I asked, unable to hide the distrust in my voice.

Carlo leaned back slightly, offering no further explanation, leaving me hanging with unanswered questions. He mentioned the funeral, instructing me to be present within the next two hours before departing abruptly.

Two hours? The speed and urgency of the funeral arrangements puzzled me, leaving a whirlwind of confusion in its wake. When Enzo approached, concern etched on his face, I could only voice what was swirling in my mind.

”A funeral in two hours? How... how is that possible?”

Enzo”s voice dropped to a hushed tone as he shared what he had overheard. My father had been found dead yesterday morning. The words hit me like a punch to the gut, a mix of disbelief and a strange concoction of emotions. He had been dead for almost a day, and I was finding out now.

Why hadn”t anyone told me earlier? The feeling of being an outsider, even in my own family, intensified. I wanted to confront my uncle and older brother and demand an explanation for the secrecy and the lack of communication.

I looked in the direction they had gone, but I found myself paralyzed, unable to summon the strength to challenge them. Numbness overcame me, wrapping around my senses like a thick fog.

I couldn’t move or speak. My father, the source of fear and pain for so many years, was no more. A part of me was relieved, but another part felt guilty for such emotions. He was my father, flawed and cruel, yet still my father.

”What... What happened to him?” I managed to stammer.

Enzo hesitated, choosing his words carefully. ”It”s not entirely clear yet. Some say it was a heart attack. Others aren”t so sure. There”s a lot of talk about the circumstances.”

I tried to process the information, but my mind felt like a stormy sea with waves crashing relentlessly against the shore. ”Why did nobody tell me sooner?” The question slipped out, edged with frustration.

My voice was almost a whisper, carrying the weight of my confusion and the turmoil of my emotions.

”I don’t know.” Enzo shook his head apologetically.

I wanted to be glad that he was gone, that I was free from the grasp of his terror, but I didn’t know why a part of me felt grief and anger.

My head nodded involuntarily as I tried to make sense of it all, attempting to put the puzzle pieces together. And in that moment, I realized that, despite the cruelty he had inflicted on me, his absence would create a void, a void that would require time to understand and accept.

Enzo put a comforting hand on my shoulder. He gently suggested we find our seats before the funeral began, his touch a grounding force. We were navigating the sea of hushed whispers and pained expressions.

Two hours passed in a blur of memories and tangled thoughts. The somber moment arrived—the commencement of the funeral.

We made our way to a grand room in the mansion where the ceremony would take place. It was an old, grand space adorned with portraits of ancestors long past—a fitting setting for a farewell within the Fiore family.

The atmosphere was heavy with grief as the pallbearers carried the polished wooden coffin with my father”s remains, memories, and mixed emotions clinging to the air like a haunting melody. They set the coffin open, allowing those in attendance to approach and pay their last respects.

Enzo and I approached, joining my uncle and brother in the line of mourners. I stood before the open casket, looking at my father”s lifeless form.

He looked peaceful, undisturbed by the chaos he had wrought during his lifetime. Anger surged within me—how could he find peace in death after the pain he had caused?

Enzo sensed my inner turmoil and guided me away before my emotions could break free.

The ceremony continued, the air thick with grief and sorrow. My older brother and uncle stood before the gathering, delivering speeches about my father—how he was a great leader, a good man.

I couldn”t help but scoff inwardly at their words. Good man? It felt like a charade, a farce. I struggled to reconcile their descriptions of him with the memories of my own experiences.

I wanted to distance myself from this man who had caused so much suffering, yet I grappled with the idea that I should be glad I wasn”t asked to speak about him. Did it matter? Did any of it matter in the grand scheme of things?

For the longest time, I”d wanted to break free from the clutches of the Fiore family, and now, fate seemed to be granting me that wish.

Amidst everything that was happening, I noticed Enzo seated nearby, busily typing away on his phone. The who and the why hardly registered in my thoughts; my mind was elsewhere. Perhaps he was texting Andrea, but at that moment, I couldn”t bring myself to care.

The journey back to my penthouse was a haze, like scenes from a distant dream. I could only grasp that it was Enzo who accompanied me, guiding me through the motions. Gratitude washed over me for having a friend like him in this tumultuous time.

When we arrived back at the penthouse, Griselda was already waiting. Her eyes held concern, reflecting her worry. I realized Enzo had messaged her. She embraced me, her comforting warmth a reminder of the stability I craved in that moment.

”I”m sorry for your loss,” she said gently, her voice filled with compassion.

The words were a small solace, but it was her willingness to be there for me that mattered most. I sat on the couch, and she asked if I wanted to talk, her concern evident in her gaze. But my emotions were a chaotic whirlwind, a tempest within me. I struggled to find words.

She stood before me, waiting patiently, her presence a balm for my troubled soul. I looked at Griselda, realizing that amidst the tumult, the grief, and the questions, she was a constant, a beacon of love and care.

At that moment, my heart spoke my truth. I looked at her, the one who had always stood by me, and said, ”I want you.”

I grasped her hips and tugged softly to guide her closer to me. I let a hand slide over her backside and fall further down to the skin of the back of her thigh, fingers grazing lightly down to the back of her knee, grasped it, and lifted her leg carefully over my own, effectively making her half-straddle me.

She had reached out with her empty hand to find support on my bare shoulder, and not wanting to keep her balance in this awkward position, she quickly let her other leg mirror its partner, raised it over my other leg, and finally rested her weight in my lap, arms draping over my shoulders.

My hand slid up and over so it rested on the top of her thigh. I let it slowly slide further up, under the hem of her skirt, expecting my fingertips to feel the edge of her panties soon. When my fingers continued up and met the skin of her uncovered hip, I paused.

I opened my eyes to look at her. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. I squeezed her hip, my thumb gently tracing her hipbone, and another low sigh left her lips.

I leaned forward to press a small kiss to the side of her neck.

My hand returned to between her legs, and I slowly started placing open-mouthed kisses up the side of her neck, letting my tongue slip out occasionally to taste her skin.

One hand had left her hip in favor of slowly caressing up and down her thigh from hip to knee, fingertips sporadically digging softly into her pliant flesh.

The other found its way to the collar of her shirt, the tips of my fingers grazing the skin of her upper chest before slowly undoing each button.

My breathing had increased in pace, coming out in a deep and fast rhythm as I kissed my way across her throat to give the other side of her neck the same treatment.

“Emilio,” she sighed, her hands tugging lightly on my hair, grinding her core against my hardening erection, making me elicit a growl against her neck in response, scraping my teeth lightly over her skin.

The hand that had been unbuttoning her shirt delved under the opening to palm her breast. She ground against me, arced her spine, and threw her head back, lips parted in a loud moan.

My hand, which had been caressing her thigh, slid up to palm her backside, giving it a firm squeeze as I started nibbling my way up her neck and over her jaw.

She tilted her head and claimed my lips in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss, our tongues quickly finding and exploring each other as if this was our first time.

But instead of discovering new pleasures, we gave in to slow, well-known comfort and desire, the knowledge that the other was there, warm and inviting.

Giving it a thorough massage, my hand wandered from her breast, skimming further down over her stomach before stroking the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh.

She whined when I had skipped over where she wanted me, her hips slowly grinding against my hard erection, drawing a small groan from me.

I then chuckled into her mouth, torturing her for a moment by letting the backs of my fingers glide against her inner thigh before taking pity on her and letting a finger caress her outer lips.

I moaned against her lips when I thought that I was the one making her ache for my touch. Deep, familiar emotions came bubbling up, threatening to overwhelm me, almost making me choke on them.

I felt this crushing need for her, to be in her, rising in me, and my finger moved to her center, sliding along her slit to coat itself in her slick.

I circled her clit a few times, making her hips stutter in our continued grinding, before teasing her entrance and sliding my finger into her inviting cunt.

Griselda broke the kiss, gasping loudly, and buried her face in the crook of my neck with a whine, and when I looked down to watch my finger disappear into her, I growled at the erotic sight. She was dressed in an open-wide shirt, legs spread and breasts and pussy on display.

I began pumping my finger in and out of her, deep sighs of intense pleasure escaping her at my movements. My pleasure at touching her like this, wanting her so badly, made me pull my finger out, adding a second before inserting both of them, beginning to pump in and out again.

I’d never hurt her, especially not by being too impatient due to my own needs.

She started bucking against me, seeking her climax.

I leaned in to kiss down her chest, my lips and tongue venturing further down. She must have realized what I was doing because she leaned back away from my neck slightly, allowing me access to her breasts.

I let my lips close around a perked nipple, tongue-teasing it into further hardness while my long fingers worked magic inside her, pumping fast now, knowing how close she was.

I could hear it in the way she breathed fast and desperately. I knew it would only take a few more hard pumps and a few more swipes of both my tongue and thumb, and she would crash over the edge of orgasm.

With one last swipe of my thumb, she came on my hand with a loud cry of my name on her lips, her hands in my hair tugging hard.

She slumped over in my arms, her face buried once again in my neck. My fingers had slowed down to extend her pleasure, and my grip on her backside eased up, my face tucked into her neck, placing small kisses there.

I felt overwhelming pride in my actions and swore never to get tired of this. She never tired of knowing I was the one to bring her pleasure. Of hearing my name called out like that.

Of the trust she put in me with her body. She was trusting me with her. That emotional choking feeling made itself known, and I took a deep, shuddering breath.

I slowly removed my fingers from her pussy.

She saw through my act, as she always did, let go of my hand, and placed her hands on my jaw, thumbs caressing my cheeks. She leaned down to kiss me gently, my arms going around her to her clothed back, my palms sliding slowly up and down.

The kiss turned from an innocent meeting of lips to open-mouthed within seconds, and I groaned when my tongue tasted the familiar tang of her slick. I was gripped by lust at the taste, and my arms crushed her to me, the kiss growing wild and passionate in my haste to have all of her at once.

She must have felt the same way as her hands slid from my jaw into my hair again while wearing and grinding her hips against me again, searching for more friction.

While keeping up the kiss, I pulled my hands away to remove my belt and trousers, a task made difficult not only by the tongue currently plundering my mouth but also by the owner of said tongue sitting on top of me.

Somehow, with a little shuffling around, as I was very unwilling to let her get up from my lap, I discarded my pants, and my cock stood proud and erect between us.

Her hand reached for my cock, caressing it softly in her fist at first, lightly pulling my foreskin back and spreading the clear pre-cum gathered there, then she started to pump my cock in firm strokes.

My hands went back to our preferred space at her hips, groaning my pleasure at her touch, and as much as I enjoyed the sight, I closed my eyes in delight.

I tried to control my breathing by taking deep breaths and tightening my hold on her, but the pleasure coursing through me had me give up that particular endeavor quickly. I was too wound up after pleasing her and wanted nothing more than to sink into her warmth.

She lifted herself on her toes, leaned towards me with one hand on my shoulder for support, and positioned her wet cunt over the head of my cock. I opened my eyes to watch my cock disappear into her and felt the warm wetness of her enveloping me.

When I had filled her, I wrapped my arms around her in a loving embrace, kissing her neck, hoping to convey how grateful I was despite the heated situation we were in, as I let her get used to my cock inside her.

She spent a few seconds with closed eyes, just holding me, before she looked up from my neck and kissed my lips slowly, giving the silent signal to start moving. My hand slid down to her ass, helping her along when she moved her hips against mine.

Our equally slow, open-mouthed kiss had me pushing my limits, and as my hands tightened on her, I secured both of my feet firmly on the floor and stood up with her securely in my arms. She wound her legs around my waist and locked her ankles behind me.

Gently, I lifted her and moved towards the kitchen table, careful not to let her slip from my grasp. Once we reached our destination, I seated her at the edge of the table. With one swift movement, I used my arm to clear the book she had been reading and the now-cold mug of coffee, causing them to crash against the floor.

As soon as I had more leverage with a little help from the table, I set at a much faster pace than the slow grinding we had enjoyed on the chair.

Her hands were still in my hair, clutching handfuls, and her legs wrapped around me. I kept one hand on her backside, and the other went hiking her leg up higher on my waist, keeping it there while I kissed her deeply and started pounding into her, my hips moving fast.

I needed this. I needed her.

Both of us let our moans flow freely, and the sounds of slick skin meeting skin in hard slaps were loud in the kitchen.

I broke the kiss, gently pushing her down on her back as I continued to fuck her hard and fast, chasing both of our climaxes. My hand moved, finding her clit again and starting to work it over with my fingertips.

Judging by her loud moans, shrieks of pleasure, and the way her cunt was gripping me tightly, she was close to her second orgasm. Her hands had left my hair and were clawing down my back, making me hiss in pleasure as I climaxed as deep inside of her as I could.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I started getting my breathing under control, but my face was still buried in her neck, and my cock was still buried in her cunt, though it had begun to go flaccid, and could feel the after spasms of her climax.

My warped emotions came back, and I kept my face hidden from her when I felt the first tear gathered at the corner of my eye. Taking a few deep breaths, I moved the emotions back down where I’d sort through them at a later time. Not now. Not here.

Her legs, still locked at the ankles, had loosened our grip on my waist, and her fingers were moving up and down my back in feather-light strokes. I let myself breathe through it and enjoy her presence.

Eventually, I had gotten myself under control and lifted my head from her neck to give her lips a slow, chaste kiss before looking her in the eyes. A soft look adorned her face, satisfaction evident as a lazy smile curled her lips.

I couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Thank you,” I appreciated her softly.