Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
SINCLAIR
T hat was the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s been years since I’ve been in the position to watch from the sidelines and it’s not something I planned on revisiting, but the more time we all spend together, the less I want to be apart from Aurora. From the comfort we all feel together.
I’ve sent the guys to shower in Nico’s room while I stay with Aurora. I’ve created a wall of pillows against the headboard so I can get comfortable while she curls up on me, straddling my thighs and nuzzling into the crook of my neck. She’s still drifting in a haze of subspace, and I need to keep her grounded while she comes back to herself.
She looks sexy as fuck and I revel in being the person she needs right now. I stroke along her shoulders and down her back, repeating the pattern over and over. I’d do this for as long as she needed but after about twenty minutes she rouses and stirs. Her ass wiggles in my lap and it’s torturous feeling the heat of her pussy against my sweats which are now coated in her arousal. I pick up a water bottle from the bedside table and hand it to her.
“Hey there, hummingbird. Drink your water.”
“Nope. I’m going back to sleep,” Aurora protests, snuggling into me.
I swat her ass playfully and she giggles before giving in. “Fine, you great big spoilsport.”
“Don’t sass me, woman. You need to hydrate,” I say with a smile on my face and an authoritative undertone.
“Yes, Daddy,” she purrs.
Fuck, that shouldn’t turn me on—but it does.
“Careful there, hummingbird. Don’t start something we don’t have time to finish. You need to shower and have breakfast so we can prepare for the capo meeting this afternoon.”
Her smile drifts away and her spine straightens as Aurora, the new Bianchi don, stirs. When it’s just us, she gets to be vulnerable, but when it comes to leading the organisation, she shoulders the burden with the perfect mix of ruthlessness and dignity.
She lifts herself from my lap and I fail to stifle the groan that rumbles in my throat at the loss of her heat.
“Sometimes I hate being the voice of reason,” I mutter, but she still hears me.
“You know you fucking love it. Quit your complaining and go make me a coffee. I’ll meet you in my office,” she instructs, turning her back and sashaying her luscious ass to the bathroom.
I adjust myself, trying to minimise the tent I’m pitching under my sweats. I look down and decide I probably need to deal with that first to make myself presentable for the capos.
“What type of shower are you taking, hummingbird? Do I have time to have one myself before I caffeinate you?” I call out. She’s left the door ajar and I can see her standing naked in front of the mirror stroking her collarbone, just below where Nico held her. He’s left no marks, but from her expression, she looks almost disappointed as she inspects the flawless slope of her neck.
“You have time. It’s an everything shower,” she hollers back.
She turns the shower on and pauses while she waits for it to reach the perfect temperature. I take one last leisurely survey of all her curves before ducking out of the room and heading across the hall to mine.
It doesn’t feel like my room any longer. As difficult as it was when we started sleeping in Enzo’s room—the constant reminder of his absence was overwhelming—my place is wherever Aurora is. I don’t feel right when I’m away from her even if it is just to get ready.
I strip out of my sweats and decide on a quick, cold shower. As hard as I am, fucking my fist right now holds little appeal after witnessing her fall apart for Nico and Benny. I’d rather be buried in her hot cunt than jacking off on cold tile. My release will have to wait. It’ll be worth it.
As soon as I’m dressed, I head out into the hall and hear the shower still going in Enzo’s room. I pad down the stairs to get everything prepared to review when she’s ready, swinging by my office to grab my laptop and heading for hers—formerly the dining room.
Aurora refused to take over Enzo’s office and she wouldn’t take mine either. Before Max torched her family home, she sent Nico and Benny over and had them bring some of her father’s furniture. Max, or his minions, had already ransacked the place, but they were after money and information, not furniture.
She made sure to bring her father’s desk and the oval mahogany table he held all his formal meetings around. It’s something she’s utilised to assert her authority while honouring the traditions many of the older members in the organisation hold sacrosanct.
She always sits to one side, making sure never to place chairs at the head of the table, making it clear that every capo in the new Bianchi organisation approaches discussions with her on an equal footing.
She’s fucking shrewd. It’s more than the sway of her ass that has me head over heels for her.
Not only has she garnered the support of most second-generation family members, she also has the loyalty of an enormous amount of the old guard, especially since she kept Stefano as consigliere bringing him into her confidence and giving him more unilateral authority than ever before. She refuses to name an underboss for the time being while the new capos vie for position. All are in agreement that as the organisation was betrayed by the last underboss, it would be wise to wait.
I lift my hand to grip the back of my neck, rubbing out some lingering aches. I’ve been working non-stop updating and triple-checking all the intelligence I have on both those loyal to Max De Luca, but also to us. We can’t afford to be betrayed again. Our forces would be decimated. While that’s a sobering thought—our position is no different than Max’s right now.
The Syndicate has been divided, and loyalties will be tested.
As I walk into the room, I’m greeted by the sight of the coffee machine on the back wall, which now has permanent residence behind her desk on a William and Mary walnut escritoire. Honest to God, most of her dad’s furniture was ugly as fuck, but you won’t hear me complain about the new aesthetic. That eyesore is the reason we’re in a fucking strong position against Max right now.
When we got it back here, Aurora showed us its fourteen hidden compartments. It took her three hours to remember where they all were, but the information we found inside them was priceless. We had everything we needed to assume control of all the Bianchi holdings. Bank accounts, stocks, and deeds to our biggest Bianchi revenue streams. Not only that, but it held flash drives with a shit ton of information that we can use against Max.
Mateo was keeping tabs on everyone and everything. I’ve been working on compiling the data and decrypting the more secure files. We also found keys for various safe deposit boxes, which we’ve been working our way through tracking down and emptying.
We’re in a much stronger position than we could have ever anticipated. We’re funded and informed… and fucking with Max’s operation at every opportunity.
I put my laptop down and set about making Aurora her coffee. I have it down pat now. Strong as all hell and drowning in a creamer that’s sweet enough to rot your teeth. I place it on her desk before retreating to the table with an espresso for me.
We really should buy another coffee machine, since she commandeered it, because this holding the caffeine hostage business is frustrating. However, the benefits far outweigh the inconvenience. We each appreciate having an excuse to interrupt her and quite often I use it to justify setting up camp in her office like I’m about to do.
The creak of the floorboards in the hall announces her arrival, and I can’t help but laugh at her oversized fluffy socks as she walks through the door. She glares at me, but it doesn’t scare away my smile. The woman wears skin-tight black jeans and a corset or basque every day, the badass bitch look finished off by her knee-high biker boots with fuck off thick treads. As a look, it’s both sexy as hell but also establishes a firm ‘fuck around and find out vibe’, yet under those boots she conceals all manner of themed socks.
Today’s pair are rainbows.
“Shut the fuck up, Sin. They’re comfy.”
She reaches underneath the desk and pulls out her boots, burying her feet in them and hiding any trace of her soft side as she does. Equipping herself in her final piece of armour for the day.
As I take her in, it hits me how difficult it’s becoming not to blurt out how I feel about her, but it seems selfish to say it out loud right now. One half of my heart is full—the other still mourns. That and I don’t think Aurora is ready to hear it. Her sorrow is only kept at bay by the promise of Max’s destruction. Right now, she’s buried under a rage that demands all her focus. A rage that consumes us all.
We will rain hellfire down on Max De Luca, and today’s meeting is the next step in unleashing it.