Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
“So, everything is in place?” Liam inquires, his gaze fixed on me as I pace back and forth across the dimly lit office at his exclusive club.
I nod, the smooth warmth of the whisky rolling over my tongue as I take a sip from the glass clutched in my hand.
“We’ve secured two jets,” I confirm, my voice steady, “both discreetly listed under an international tour group.”
“Good,” he responds, his eyes narrowing slightly as he picks up his sleek phone from the polished mahogany desk. The screen glows briefly as he glances at the display, his fingers deftly tapping out a message before he sets it back down with a soft thud. “Matthias’s father, Andrei, has arranged for an additional fifty men from Russia. They’ll be arriving ahead of us, strategically dispersing throughout the city to keep watch. That should ease things if anything goes awry.”
I nod again, a silent agreement passing between us as the dim light casts long shadows across the room.
“Have you informed Gia about the news clipping and the bloody sheets you sent to her father?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of curiosity, the question hanging in the air like a specter.
“Not yet.”
“It’s something you might want to consider telling her,” he warns me. “She might not take too kindly to it if she finds out from someone else.”
“She’ll understand,” I assure him. “Giving of the bedsheets is a tradition among the families.”
Liam scoffs with disgust. “What antiquated bullshit.”
“It is what it is.” I shrug, taking another drink.
“Has Fino made contact?”
A devilish smile curves my lips, sinister delight simmering beneath the surface. “This morning after I left the hotel.”
“What’d he say?”
“The bastard was furious.” I down the remaining amber liquid in my glass, savoring the burn as it slides down my throat, and set the empty glass on the polished bar table to my right. “Told me I had to pay what he is owed for her, or it would be war.”
“What did you say to that?”
“Nothing. I just laughed and told him he wouldn’t be seeing a dime of money. I reminded him that he couldn’t afford a war with me, especially since he had to try and sell his own daughter to pay his debts to Salvatore.”
Liam relaxes his elbows on his mahogany desk, groaning as he drags a weary hand down his face, the weight of our conversation settling upon him.
“I’m going to enjoy watching you kill that man.”
“Not as much as I am going to enjoy doing it,” I assure him with a smile, a promise of retribution gleaming in my eyes.
“Does Gia know the plans her father had for her? ”
I nod a subtle acknowledgment. “That’s why Elio stole her away, why he was desperate enough to take the contracted hit on me.”
Liam drums his fingers on the desk, the rhythmic tapping a soft staccato of contemplation. “Do you know what you are going to do with the lass once you’ve reclaimed what is yours?”
Releasing a long sigh, I shake my head, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. Last night was an unexpected revelation. The raw, primal connection we shared was something I never anticipated. Women have always been nothing more than a simple release to me yet being entwined with Gia was a near-divine experience, one that had nothing to do with her being a virgin.
“I’m not sure,” I reply to Liam with a tone of honesty that surprises even me. “Most likely, I’ll just let her get on with her life. She can choose to stay here in the States, or she can go back to Italy.”
As I say this, a tightness grips my chest like a vice. Gia’s been the only thing on my mind today. The memory of her writhing and moaning beneath me is as I fucked her. How wet her pussy was after her punishment. The image of her body trembling and her eyes rolling back when she orgasms—it’s intoxicating.
I crave her taste like an addict craves their fix.
Liam smirks, his eyes narrowing, seeing right through my bullshit. “I’m not able to read expressions like my son-in-law can,” he says, amusement lacing his voice. “But I know a bald-faced lie when I see it.” His words cut through the vivid daydream festering in my mind.
“Plus,” he continues, “did you consider that Gia won’t have anyone once you’re done tearing through Italy? She’s never been on her own before and doesn’t have her own money. She’s never worked a day in her life. How do you think she’s going to fare out in the world alone?”
His words are like a douse of cold water. I hadn’t thought about any of that.
“I’ll make sure she is taken care of,” I assure him. “A home. Money. Whatever she requires.”
Liam gives me a knowing smile, his gaze steady, but he doesn’t press the issue further. Instead, he shifts the topic.
“How has everything been running in Miami? My sons are biting at the bit to expand, and they’ve been wanting to make a deal with you—join operations.”
Liam’s sons own Clover, the club we are meeting in now. It was their first legitimate venture, and since its opening, it has become one of the most sought-after spots in the city. Liam occasionally lends a hand, but he usually stays behind the scenes, stepping in only when necessary.
I manage several clubs in Miami and its neighboring areas. Those venues serve as perfect fronts for laundering money, allowing me to pay my men through legitimate channels, making them appear as tax-paying, law-abiding citizens. If there’s one thing my organization will never be caught in, it’s tax fraud.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with our dealings in the Underground, I’d be happy to invest with them,” I tell him. “If they’re planning to use it as a front, then Adrian and Kenzo have to be involved too. We don’t handle anything in the Underground without each other.”
In our world of illegitimate business, we’re a seamless unit. All revenue is divided among our three corporations, while our legitimate ventures are our personal gold mines. But ninety percent of the time even our legal businesses are intertwined. When one of us prospers, we all prosper. That’s the way it’s always been .
Liam grins, his eyes glinting with understanding, and nods. “I’ll have them reach out to you when everything’s settled.”
“I look forward to it,” I reply, returning his smile with a confident one of my own. “Are we all done here?”
“We are,” he says, picking up his sleek smartphone and swiping through the apps with practiced ease. “You, however, have a slight problem.”
He turns the phone toward me, and I see a live feed from the club’s security cameras. I lean forward, squinting at the small, glowing screen.
Maledetta inferno.
Liam chuckles as my brow furrows, my fist clenching tightly at the sight of my dear wife downstairs in the club. She’s holding a cocktail, her hips swaying to the pounding rhythm of the music on the dance floor as she talks chattily with the man standing next to her.
I see red as fury crashes through me. “How the fuck did she get in here?” I snarl, the words a low growl in my throat.
Liam turns the phone back to himself, scrolling briefly before pausing to show me a photograph of the fake I.D. I had crafted for Gia.
Gesù.
“What the hell is she thinking?” Gia knows very well the type of danger she is if anyone catches on to who she is. Not to mention, how the hell did she get here with no car and no money?
Liam clears his throat, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a barely contained grin.
“You’ve got something to say, old man.” I shake my head at him, the words coming out more of a challenge than a question. “Say it. ”
“I’ve been with you all day, Vitali,” he starts, leaning back in his chair with an air of amusement.
I give him a look that plainly asks, so what ?
“You hadn’t called or texted her once until she texted you, and then you blew her off,” he points out, his voice tinged with mock disapproval.
The realization hits me with an unexpected weight. I’m not accustomed to the casual, frequent communication that seems to come naturally to others. My phone is usually reserved for coordinating with my men or handling business. When her message came through, Liam and I were knee-deep in analyzing the surveillance footage of Salvatore’s sprawling estate in Italy. The very place where I spent my childhood. We had meticulously combed through several days’ worth of recordings, dissecting the intricate dance of operations.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, dragging my hand down my face in frustration. Liam lets out a hearty laugh, rising from his chair and crossing to my side to deliver a solid, reassuring slap on my back.
“It gets better,” he promises, a mischievous wink accompanying his words.
Sure it does.
“We’ll see you in a few days,” I tell him, brushing past him with a nod as I head for the door.
“Have fun with your wife,” he calls after me, laughter trailing his words as he turns toward the back exit.
Dario, who has been standing guard outside the office door, falls into step beside me as I stride purposefully through the bustling club. The thrum of music vibrates through the floor, and people part before me like water. My focus is singular as I push through the throng to find my wife. Her laughter reaches me first, a bright peal that cuts through the noise, drawing my attention to where she stands on the edge of the dance floor with her new companion.
The man beside her senses my approach, his head turning to meet my gaze with a friendly, broad smile. He leans down to whisper something in her ear, pointing me out with a subtle nod. Relief courses through me as I recognize him—Liam’s son, Seamus. If it were anyone else making her laugh, Gia would be getting a swift lesson in the consequences of allowing another man too close to what belongs to me.
When she sees me, her face pales, but she tips up her chin, eyeing me defiantly.
“What the hell are you doing here, Gia?” I bark, my voice low and edged with frustration. Gia merely shrugs nonchalantly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she takes a languid sip from the cocktail glass clutched in her hand.
“I figured if it’s good enough for you to be here, then it must be good enough for me,” she replies with a crooked smile, her gaze drifting towards a scantily clad waitress whose deliberate, lingering glance catches both our eyes as she glides past.
I draw a slow, measured breath before replying. “I’ve been working,” I deadpan. Gia gives a dismissive snort that sounds dangerously like amusement.
“And I’ve been robbing banks,” she quips.
Ignoring her childish retort, I fix my eyes on the intricately patterned drink in her hand before turning my attention to Seamus. “How many of those has she had?” I ask him sharply, my tone dark. If this fucker has been feeding my wife alcohol, he can kiss our joint operation goodbye.
Seamus straightens up, rolling his broad shoulders back in an almost theatrical display of composed authority. He may be one of the heirs to the Irish Mafia empire, but he is still young, barely past twenty-five.
“Just the one,” he explains, with a slight shrug, “and it doesn’t actually contain any alcohol.”
“Wish it did,” Gia mutters under her breath.
Seamus shakes his head in quiet disapproval. “When she walked in, I texted my father,” he continues, his voice measured and serious. “He told me to keep her occupied while you two wrapped everything up.”
I offer him a curt nod and a gruff, appreciative thanks. Sensing the tension mounting, Seamus offers a quick goodbye to Gia before melting into the throng of people swirling around us.
Pulling Gia closer until she’s pressed against my chest, so I don’t need to yell to be heard.
“How did you get here, Gia?” I ask, my tone grave.
“Walked,” she responds casually as if recounting an everyday errand. Walked? This late at night, in an unfamiliar city throbbing with neon lights and hidden danger? My jaw tightens with worry as I consider the multitude of scenarios that could have trapped her. What if her father’s men had been lurking nearby? Or worse, what if she’d fallen victim to a mugger in one of the darkened alleyways?
Drawing closer, I lean over her, my warm lips brushing against the delicate shell of her ear. “You are in big fucking trouble, piccola cerva ,” I growl, my voice husky at the prospect of turning her plump ass red with my belt. “And don’t think I’m not going to correct your behavior.”
Gia jolts back, her eyes widening as her jaw sets in a determined line. “If you think for one second that I’m going to stay at home like some obedient little wife while you fuck your day away, you’ve married the wrong girl, Vitali De Luca. ”
“That’s not what I’m doing here, Gia,” I insist, trying to soothe the brewing storm of her indignant defiance.
She rolls her eyes, a gesture heavy with disbelief. It’s understandable that she would have doubts. Gia grew up entrenched in a world where men often abandon their wives, leaving them home to raise the children and keep the home while they lose themselves in booze and lose women.
But I am not one of those men, and she will come to learn that.
“You can’t just leave the security of the hotel without a guard, Gia,” I growl. “It simply isn’t safe out there.”
“Then don’t leave me alone the entire day with nothing to do,” she fires back, the edge in her voice sharpening as she presses her hands against my chest, creating a deliberate barrier between us.
I allow it. Until she turns her back on me.
“Don’t walk away from me, Gia,” I warn her, my eyes narrowing. “If you won’t listen, I won’t wait until we are back at the hotel to belt your ass.”
Gia stops in her tracks, frozen in indecision. I can practically see the gears whirring in her head, wondering if I will really drag her to the back and lay my belt across her ass in a club full of people.
Spoiler alert. I will.
“You can’t threaten to punish me every time I do something you don’t agree with, Vitali,” she hisses, looking back at me, her eyes burning angrily. “I got here on my own, and I can get back on my own. But don’t expect to crawl into my bed after you’ve fucked some crabs-infested whore.”
She turns on her heel, ready to dash toward the door. Gia barely makes it two steps before my arm settles around her middle, lifting her from the floor.
“I warned you, piccola cerva ,” I whisper in her ear .
Gia kicks out, trying to get away from me, but it doesn’t work. It doesn’t take much for me to haul her away from the edge of the dance floor. She pushes and claws at my arms, but I don’t budge. She might as well be a kitten clawing at a full-grown lion. Soon, I’ve led us out of the club and down the quiet back hallway I came from.
“Put me down,” she shouts, her words echoing against the empty walls. Ignoring her, I push open the door to the office I met with Liam in earlier, knowing he won’t mind if I use it. It is also the only room without a camera. The only person going to see my wife’s naked ass is me.
“You are going to learn what it means to obey, Gia,” I tell her, kicking the door close and locking it with a flick of my fingers. I carry her to one side of the room, where two leather chairs sit to one side, and drop her to her feet.
“Fuck you, Vitali!” She screams at me, immediately backing away when I advance toward her.
“Cursing isn’t going to help you, wife.”
“Go to hell.”
A dark smile curves my lips, and I take a menacing step toward her.
“I’ll be taking you with me.”