Chapter Twenty-Three Tiernan
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TIERNAN
Deaf.
Not intellectually impaired.
Not developmentally delayed.
Deaf.
Sharp. Intelligent. Cunning. Talented. Slightly unhinged, which—let’s admit it—only added to her allure.
Beautiful beyond words, art, and cultural standards.
A mixture between sweet, naive, and goodhearted, yet bloodthirsty enough to put a bullet in someone who crossed her.
Thank fuck I had no heart, or we’d have one hell of a problem.
I fell into a recliner in my bedroom, rolling my tongue over my upper teeth. I already had another stiff drink in hand, but there wasn’t enough alcohol on this continent to numb the fuckery that was going on in my head.
The last forty-eight hours were a disaster. First, there was the OB-GYN appointment. She was so small the doctor wrestled to push the ultrasound wand inside her. Beads had actually formed across the old hag’s forehead, and I was ready to tear the doctor’s head off her neck.
When Lila placed those baby blues on my face and held my hand, all the sadist in me could think about was plowing my massive cock inside that sweet little cunt.
She squirmed and moaned with discomfort, but it was me who had to adjust myself seven times sitting next to her so my cock wouldn’t rip a hole through my trousers.
The doctor noticed, too. I was pretty sure I’d be banned from the establishment if it wasn’t for my notoriety.
And her body. Jaysus. That body would be the death of any straight man. She straddled the seam between willowy and youthfully plump. With a trim waist, long legs, and dainty arms, all sun-kissed to perfection. Her tits were heavy and full, the curve of her arse round and bold.
The reception bimbo was a cheap plot device on my end. I’d recognized her as a former exotic dancer who worked for one of my establishments a few years back. She’d recognized me as the man who once left her a five-hundred-buck gratuity after doing unholy things to her.
I knew she’d be the tipping point for my wife. I’d studied Lila in recent weeks. She was a hotheaded Italian under all those pink frocks and innocent stares.
For the first time in my life, my thoughts were scattered in a dozen different directions. I usually prided myself on my ability to dissect the micro from the macro, the important from the neglectable.
Until now.
There were too many moving parts.
First—the baby.
Lila wanted to have it. Didn’t surprise me. She was incapable of hurting anything innocent, even an unborn fetus the size of a fucking grape.
Second—what the fuck was Chiara playing at, making her daughter pretend to have no intellectual abilities, denying her pleasures and opportunities?
And why didn’t she supply her with means to make her life better? A hearing aid? Apps and gadgets?
My wife had been robbed not only of her freedom and choices, which was standard for women in the underworld, but also from education, music, culture, arts, sports. Deaf people lived full, satisfying lives. They became doctors and scientists. Climbed mountains and broke glass ceilings.
I had no expectations of Vello. Fucker was the level of narcissist who barely noticed there was a world around him. But how could Lila’s con gig fly under Luca, Achilles, and Enzo’s radar? They grew up with her, for fuck’s sake.
They were natural-born killers. Their jobs were to observe, learn, plan, and execute. My distaste for them aside, they were capable men. Was Lila that excellent an actress, or were they simply that self-absorbed?
The answer didn’t matter. What mattered was they had failed her.
Every single one of the Ferrantes. And the bad news was, I was hardly any better.
Chiara was right. As soon as her daughter opened her mouth and I listened to her talk, the first thing that sprang to my mind was that I could fuck her now.
She was fair game.
Fuck Achilles’s duffel bags of cash.
I saw her at the doctor’s. The way her body reacted to mine. Those sweet, rosy-pink nipples were calling for me. It was the first time I wanted to put my mouth on a tit. The first time I wondered what it’d feel like to fuck a pussy.
Funnily enough, I, too, was inexperienced between the sheets. In a different, more depraved way, but nonetheless a virgin by some technical standard.
Lila was my first kiss—if you could call it that—and if I were to ever screw her, I’d need to do it the right way. I wasn’t ready for that. Maybe not even capable of it.
She drove me mad. I wanted to throttle, kiss, and fuck her, all in the same breath. Not wanting someone to be scared of me went against my own brain chemistry. Fear was my most trusted weapon. I wielded it over everyone, other than Tierney and Fintan.
But if I truly wanted Lila’s pussy—which, I was beginning to suspect was the case—I had to tone it down.
And maybe no more hookers.
Fine, definitely no more hookers.
Sex was neither here nor there for me. I could take it or leave it, depending on my schedule, workload, and its availability. Going without wouldn’t be a first, or particularly difficult.
But this was a headache I didn’t anticipate. A complication that wasn’t a part of the arrangement.
I’d deal with that later, though.
I knocked my drink back.
I’d handle it.
I always handled it.