16
Alessio
It takes every ounce of self-control not to rip that pathetic sweater off Olivia and bend her over the kitchen island.
Even with Paola ten feet away, I don’t give a damn.
She can watch for all I care.
Watch me claim the little Sirena who keeps tempting me like she wants to see how far she can push me before I snap.
I don’t let her see it, though.
Instead, I stalk off to the shower, slamming the door behind me hard enough to rattle the frame.
The water is scalding, burning down my shoulders, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to relax the tension boiling inside me.
My jaw locks, my fists clench, and I brace a hand against the tile, exhaling through my nose.
Olivia is still in my head, her scent, her mouth, those fucking hips teasing me like she knows exactly what she’s doing, making me want to pin her down and ruin her.
I grab the bar of soap and scrub harder than necessary, but the more I try to push her out of my head, the more vivid the images get.
Her back arching, her lips parting as she moans my name, her body writhing underneath me.
Just one taste , I tell myself.
That’s all it would take to get her out of my system.
Bury myself in her tight little cunt until she’s screaming my name, then leave her just like all the others.
She’s not different from the rest.
My hand grips my cock, slow at first, but that doesn’t last long.
I lose the battle almost immediately.
The image of Olivia is burned into my brain, in bed, legs spread, back arching like she’s begging me to ruin her.
That sweet little mouth of hers moaning my name while I fuck her tight cunt.
Fucking hell.
My breath hitches, and I slam my free hand against the tile as the tension that’s been building up for days finally snaps.
I come hard, spilling against the shower wall hot and sticky, only to be washed away by the water almost instantly.
I’m still wound tight, still pissed, and all I can think about is how much better it would’ve been to feel her pussy wrapped around me, squeezing me, pulling me deeper until I own her sweet cunt.
Instead, I’m here, jerking off like a pathetic asshole who can’t get a handle on his own goddamn thoughts.
She’s in my fucking head, and it’s driving me insane.
I lean against the wall, chest heaving, clenching and releasing my fists until I get my shit together and turn off the water.
I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel low around my hips.
The mirror’s fogged to hell, but I catch enough of my reflection to see the mess—tousled wet hair and droplets of water sliding down my jaw.
I look like I’ve been through it, and maybe I have.
Steam still clings to my skin as I push the bathroom door open, and a gust of cold air hits me as I walk into my bedroom, sending a chill through me, making the hairs on my arms stand up.
By the time I’m in my closet, I’ve mostly shoved her out of my head.
The polished wood shelves gleam, and the rows of designer suits are just as I like them, perfectly tailored, perfectly arranged, and color-coded like I’ve got my shit together.
It’s a small piece of control in my day.
I grab a pair of boxer briefs and pull them on before reaching for a crisp white shirt.
I throw on a navy Armani suit, tailored to perfection.
I leave the top buttons undone, letting the ink on my chest and neck peek through.
Just enough to remind anyone who sees me that I’m not just polished suits and business deals.
I look sharp, but I’m still a fucking killer .
By the time I head downstairs, it’s already pushing noon.
The sound of chatter gets louder with each step I take.
What the fuck?
I stop in the hallway, just out of sight from the living room, listening to Olivia and Paola.
It’s the first time I’ve heard anything come out of her mouth that isn’t sarcasm or a biting remark…
just laughter.
I crack my knuckles.
She’s not supposed to be laughing like that.
What the hell is so funny?
I ignore the itch to storm in there and tell her to keep it the fuck down.
Or maybe get closer, see what’s so goddamn funny.
But no, it’s not worth it.
Getting caught hovering like some creep is a hard pass.
Instead, I turn and head toward my office, shoving her out of my head where she doesn’t belong.
I’ve got more important shit to deal with.
Inside, the scent of leather and whiskey grounds me.
I shut the door behind me, shutting her laughter out with it.
Kota and Nathan are waiting, sitting across from my sleek glass desk.
Nathan’s quiet, as usual, but there’s something in his posture, like they’ve got news, and it’s not the kind I’ll like.
Not that I ever do .
Nathan stands and walks to the bar cart, pouring three drinks even though it’s barely after noon.
But fuck it, between the firecracker cackling in my living room and whatever fucked-up news they’re about to hit me with, I already know I’m gonna need the damn drink.
He sets mine down in front of me.
I grab it, swirl the amber liquid once, then knock it back in one go.
The burn doesn’t do shit to calm me.
I slam the glass down on the desk, and Nathan refills it without a word.
Their faces say it all, something’s up.
I glance between them, my patience wearing thin.
They know better than to make me wait.
“Kota,” I say, my voice eerily calm but with the edge they’ve learned not to fucking test, “what’s the update?”
Kota sits up, placing a laptop in front of me.
“We pulled the footage from Demoni . Chris and the girl were heading toward Cooper, our surveillance officer. But before they reached him, our guys stepped in. Cooper walked away, slipped out the back, and got into an unmarked car.”
He clicks a button, and the footage plays.
“There’s more,” he adds, rubbing a hand down his face.
“Check this—when Chris enters the casino, there’s a time lapse. Someone’s fucking with our system. ”
I nod slowly, my fingers tapping the desk once before curling into a fist.
So, Cooper thinks he can stroll into my casino, screw with my cameras, and I won’t notice?
“Cocky bastard,” I mutter, rolling my shoulders, trying to ease the tension creeping in.
I exhale through my nose, meeting Kota’s gaze.
“Here’s what happens next. You and Nathan are going to find him. I don’t give a fuck how. When you do, bring him to me. And make sure he knows exactly why this is happening. He walked into my casino. He fucked with my business. Now he pays.”
Kota and Nathan exchange a look before nodding.
They already know the drill.
I push back from my desk, rounding it to stand in front of them.
“Cooper doesn’t get to know we’re onto him. Let him feel safe right up until we grab him. I want him to feel it, every second of it. But not yet.”
Kota tilts his chin in understanding.
The urge to punch the wall is tempting, but I swallow it down, losing my cool won’t fix a damn thing.
I exhale, forcing myself to keep my shit together.
I pace toward the window, glancing out at my estate.
Everything here is mine.
Every piece and every inch, because I worked my ass off for everything I have.
I’ll be damned if I let anyone threaten that.
Not Chris, not Olivia, not anyone.
Turning back, I speak with a sick satisfaction at the thought of making his last moment alive a living fucking hell.
“When you bring him in, I want him alive. We’re going to make an example out of him.”
Kota and Nathan nod, already moving before I finish talking.
As the door clicks shut behind them, I stay rooted in place, hands balling into fists in my pockets.
The silence should be calming, but all I can think about is how this stupid fucker has no idea what’s coming.
By the time I’m done with him, he’ll wish he’d never crossed me.