28
Sebastiano
The scent of cigar smoke clings to the air as I step into the dimly lit room. After dinner, Mia went to bed, and I pretended to have work that needed my attention.
Sitting at my desk, I can”t shake her from my mind—the way her body responded to mine, knowing that I”m the only one who”s ever been inside her, the only one to touch her, to give her pleasure.
But then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks—I was so caught up in the moment that I came inside her. I never have sex without a condom. Never. It didn”t even register until after we showered. Mia mentioned she”s on the pill, but still, I”m always careful, at least with this. I know I”m clean; I got tested before the wedding and haven”t been with anyone since. But the thought still nags at me that I fucked up. I may not care about much, but the fact that I was so caught up in the moment with her, that I blew my load inside her is a big mistake.
I need to step back. Having feelings for someone isn”t what I do. It makes me vulnerable and puts a target on Mia”s back, and that”s the last thing I want. Dons don”t marry for love; it”s a strategic move, a show of stability or a way to make an alliance. Saying these things to myself feels a bit too much, like sounding like my father. I”m a damn hypocrite.
At thirty-one, I should have been comfortably settled into the role of the head of the Chicago Mafioso, with a wife and a couple of brats running around, to carry on the Morelli legacy. Yet, here I am, wrestling with fucked up emotions on top of the responsibilities I already have. And if my internal turmoil isn”t enough, I still need to figure out how to avoid the kid clause that my father snuck into the marriage contract. I thought avoiding it would work, but knowing Dad, I know it won”t.
If Mia got pregnant, I could never let her leave. Not only because I”m a selfish prick and want to keep her for myself but because that would be my kid, too. A Morelli. It would put a bigger target on Mia and my child.
The underworld of the city is in chaos, and the damn shortages in our shipments are only pouring fuel on the fire. The pressure is mounting, squeezing me from all sides. The legacy rests on my shoulders, and rival families are always sniffing around for any sign of weakness. Yet, my mind keeps going back to Mia, a complication I can’t afford. Sometimes, I think it would have just been easier to give the title to Nico.
A knock on the door snaps me back to reality. The door swings open, and without waiting for an invitation, Enzo walks in. His light gray suit, a stark contrast to the dimly lit room. Enzo’s scowl is as stern as my own. ”We got a problem with the shipments. Things are getting worse,” he grumbles, leaning against the desk.
”What”s going on?”
He takes a deep breath as if bracing himself for my impact on the news he has. ”Three dock employees are missing. Vanished without a trace.”
My fingers trace absent patterns on the polished surface of the desk as I clench my jaw. The situation keeps getting worse. ”How the hell does that happen?”
The shipments are an essential part of our operation, and any disruption will send a ripple of unease through the Chicago outfit. We”ve been keeping it under wraps, but if it’s getting worse and people are going missing, it’s only a matter of time before the word gets out.
This city is my battleground. And maintaining control is crucial. Missing employees means more than just an inconvenience; it means a breach in the security of our operations. It’s a dangerous position to be in.
Enzo runs a hand through his hair, a rare display of visible agitation. ”We”re investigating, but it”s like they vanished into thin air. No witnesses, no clues.”
Missing employees isn”t the kind of news anyone ever wants to hear, especially now that Dad is stepping down and I’ll be running everything. ”What”s the word on the shipments, then?” I demand.
Enzo straightens, his gaze meeting mine. ”On top of the missing employees, four crates are missing.”
I mutter a string of curses under my breath. Any disruption not only screws with our standing but also gives my old man another excuse to put off passing the throne.
”We need to find those employees, Enzo,” I say, the urgency in my voice potent. ”And tighten security. No more surprises.”
Enzo nods, his expression reflecting the gravity of the situation. ”Already on it, Seb. But we can”t afford to waste time.”
“Then don’t.”
The city outside continues its relentless pace, unaware of the turmoil within the Morelli outfit. I lean forward, hands gripping the edge of the desk, ready to kill whoever threatens to unravel My Mafioso.
The clink of melting ice cubes against the lowball glass is the only sound that breaks the silence in the office. I sit behind the imposing desk, feeling like I’m lurking in Dad’s shadow, wondering why this is all happening now.
I eye the crystal in my hand, the glass holding the last few drops of my favorite amber liquid. Whiskey is my only companion in the silence of my thoughts. I down the last of the alcohol, Its warmth spreading to my chest like a comforting elixir and allowing me to forget my responsibilities momentarily.
When I stand to pour myself another, that’s when I hear it––hear her.
Jumping from my seat, I head to my room. Our room. My shirt has never looked as good as it does on Mia”s petite body. But the sight of her tossing and turning in her sleep, haunted by nightmares every damn night, hits me hard. The possessiveness I feel for her is unlike anything I”ve felt for anyone else.
Crawling into bed, I slide under the covers and pull her close. Her hair sticks to her face from a mix of sweat and tears, yet her skin feels cool to the touch.
After brushing back her wet hair and wiping tears from her porcelain skin, Mia settles against me. Her head finds its place on my left shoulder, and I wrap my arm under her. My right arm snakes around her waist, rubbing her back gently until her breathing starts to steady.
“You keep the monsters away,” she mumbles into my shoulder.
With both arms securely around her, I hold her tight while burying my face in her hair. Her sweet scent helps calm the rage inside me. “I’ll always keep them away from you, Piccolina,” I promise her. The urge to kill the fucker who haunts her dreams only grows stronger because anyone who hurts Mia is a dead man walking.
Lying here in the dark room, it”s quiet—too quiet, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Damn it. It”s like a knife twisting in my gut when I think about the look on Mia”s face when she walked in the door today and the look in her eyes when we had sex. I was so caught up in my head that I didn’t even stop to think about her before I just started yelling. Regret claws at the back of my mind every time I look at her. She deserves better than what I gave her tonight. She deserves everything good in this world and more.
Maybe I should try to make it up to her, to show her that I”m not just some heartless bastard. I can buy her something, expensive things that I know women love. Or I maybe take her on a date, like a picnic in the park or some corny shit like that.
What the hell happened to me? When did I become such a bitch?
Mia and I are still snuggled together under the covers when I feel her squirm against me.
What time is it? Internally groaning, it has to be early because the sun isn”t even up yet.
”Bash.” Comes her soft voice.
”Hmm,” I hum, trying not to let my mind linger on the warmth of her against me.
“Bash,” she repeats, unhooking herself from my hold, sitting up and looking around, a little confused.
I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her back to me and covering us with the blankets. “Shh, sleep, Piccolina.” I kiss her forehead, and she snuggles back into me, and we both drift off to sleep.
An hour later, I wake up with her lying on top of me, her face buried in the crook of my neck, and her body sprawled across mine with her fist gripping the hem of my shirt sleeve like she”s making sure that I don”t leave her.
When she starts to stir slightly, it allows me to see the alarm clock. It”s 6:52 a.m.
I”m not sure if I”m more shocked that I snuggled with Mia all night or that I slept through the night and I”m waking up this early. I haven’t slept through the night since our wedding. But this was the best night”s sleep of my life.
Typically, by this time, I would have been up all night, and la piccola ballerina would be finishing her morning workout and getting ready for breakfast. Mia stirs again in her sleep, grinding herself on my dick that is getting harder by the second.
“Keep that up, Piccolina, and I’ll fuck you till you can”t walk.”
“I-I’m not…” she stutters, unable to form a sentence. And if it isn”t the cutest thing I”ve seen. “H-how long have you been here?” she asks, wiping the sleep from her eyes as she sits up. I don”t think she realizes that she’s straddling me, and I sure as hell won”t be the one to say it as I lay my hands on her hips.
“Hmm?” I ask, but I”m not really able to focus much on anything but our current position. I can see the outline of her tits through the thin fabric, and I could rip this shirt off her and take her all over again.
“Did you sleep in bed with me all night? Why?” Her voice is low, almost timid, as her cheeks turn pink.
“After yesterday, you”d think you wouldn”t be so embarrassed around me,” I ask. I don”t think now”s the time to admit that I’ve become a pussy and want to be with her, to comfort her through her nightmares every night.
She”s still straddling me, and as she sits back, my dick becomes painfully hard beneath her. My hand slips under the shirt she”s wearing, gently rubbing her hips. ”I’m not embarrassed,” she asserts, sounding more confident.
“Then you’re turned on.” I playfully reply, running my hand higher until I feel her pebbled nipples. Using my thumb and finger, I pull softly, eliciting a little moan from la piccola ballerina. So fucking responsive as she leans into my touch. Her blue eyes lock with mine as she grinds herself on me a little harder.
“You’re playing with fire, Piccolina,” I say, earning a small smile from Mia.
I can”t resist—I grab the back of her head, pulling her towards me, claiming her lips in a passionate kiss before I break the kiss and rip the shirt over her head- flipping us over so I’m on top now. She’s squirming under me in only lace panties, panties that I fully intend on ripping off her next.
This woman is insatiable.
After making her come twice, we take a shower together––more like fuck in the shower before getting dressed and heading downstairs. My appetite is satisfied, but I know Mia needs something more substantial because I’m not done with her yet.
We reach the kitchen, and to no surprise, Nico is sitting at the bar, chatting with Roman, who looks busy preparing lunch, while Nico sits on his ass and distracts him. His jaw drops when he glances our way, seeing me walk up behind Mia. I guess the guy thought I wouldn’t be awake at this time or wouldn”t be with her. Not that I care. It doesn”t take a genius to figure out what we were up to. La piccola ballerina is covered in marks. My marks are scattered all over her creamy skin. The memory of each moan she let out while I left those marks makes my dick punch at my zipper.
”What are you doing here?” I ask emotionlessly as I stare at the stronzo sitting at the bar.
”Surprised you”re awake during the day, Seb,” he responds cockily. It makes me want to punch the smirk off his face.
Instead of playing into his game, I one-up him. Pulling Mia closer, encircling my arms around her waist as I rest my chin on her head. ”Well, it looks like someone knows how to keep a man in bed all night,” I respond, kissing the top of her head. I take in how her cheeks turn into little cherries at my words as she tilts her head up to look at me. I seize the opportunity of our current position to lock my lips on hers in a rough kiss.
After a moment of savoring her, I slowly break the kiss, leaving her breathless and her cheeks flushed. I can see the desire in her eyes before I lean in again, placing another soft kiss on her plump, pink lips.
The smirk drops from his face. ”W-well, I won”t interrupt your day then.” Stammering, Nico stands up and bolts for the front door. I’m not sure what the guy is up to, but I know it can”t be good.
La piccola ballerinais still in my arms, looking up at me with hunger in her eyes and doesn”t seem to notice that Nico just stormed out. Her reaction only justifies that I’m a stronzo who overreacted—she has no interest other than friendship with him.