Chapter 12
MARCO
“I got wind that two of Bruno’s top guys defected to the Capra family,” Armani says as he pours himself another cup of coffee at the dining room table.
Dante grunts noncommittally. “And?”
“And I can probably buy them off for information,” Armani says. “Maybe they know the tattooed man.”
“Good news, then,” Dante replies. “If you can make it work.”
“I can make it work,” Armani says confidently.
I rub my eyes, wishing that the majority of our conversations weren’t exactly like this one.
My brothers discussing the family business, me trying my damnedest not to get involved.
We’re alone in the dining room, brooding over a pot of coffee.
Well, maybe I’m the only one brooding. I missed breakfast as usual.
Normally, I’d have one of the kitchen staff whip me up an omelet or a plate of steak and eggs, but I’m still half asleep.
After Karina left last night, I spent all night tossing and turning, replaying our interaction in my mind and jerking off like a teenager.
Two newspapers lie open on the table. I scan one as I sip the dark roast from my cup.
“Why do you think they’d defect?” The words leave my mouth absently as I flip a page.
“What?” Dante asks.
I’m not sure if he actually didn’t hear me, or if he’s just shocked that I actually joined in on their shop talk for once.
I glance over at him. “Why do you think Bruno’s men defected? The reason behind that is probably just as important as finding out if they have information on the tattooed man. Might even be a setup if they suspect we’re on to them.”
Armani’s brows go up. “You’ve got a point.” He thinks for a minute. “Though word on the street is, Sergio Bruno is having troubles. I’ve heard he’s dangling some of his relatives—the Rossis—as currency to get what he wants from other families.”
I pause mid-read and push the newspaper aside. Karina is a Rossi.
“Rossi, you said?” I try to sound as casual as possible as my blood pressure skyrockets. “Never heard of them.”
Dante sighs. “This is why you should pay attention better. Sergio has a sister who married a Rossi years back. The Rossis were small-timers, but once they married into the Bruno family, they were given new territory and took over some of the Bruno hustles. So basically, Rossi equals Bruno.”
Rossi equals Bruno? Fuuuuck. If I wasn’t fully awake before, I sure as hell am now.
I go over my interactions with Karina in my mind, and all the pieces start coming together. The events she’s attended, the way she’s so secretive about her family, how they’re so controlling and overprotective of her. There’s no denying it. Karina is one of them. My family’s sworn enemy.
I am so screwed.
I force myself to sip my coffee, trying to remain cool.
“Anyway,” Armani cuts in, “something’s up with them. I’m still working on finding out the details.”
This much is certain: knowing my brothers, anyone connected to the Brunos is going to go down with them. They won’t care who gets hurt in the crossfire. Suddenly I can’t breathe.
“I have it on good authority that Bruno sent a Rossi cousin to negotiate a drug shipment from Canada,” Armani is saying. “They hid cocaine inside cartons of infant formula.”
Dante shakes his head. “That’s a new one.”
They continue discussing all the shady business going down on Bruno turf, but I can’t stop seeing Karina’s face in my mind. Dante is right. I should have known who she was.
All I’ve been able to think about is how she makes me feel.
It’s unexplainable, really. I’ve been with countless women—that’s not hyperbole either, I’ve literally lost count—but I’ve never in my life felt the way that I do when I’m with her.
I don’t know if it’s her genuine innocence or her openness when she’s talking to me, or her wit, or the way she doesn’t try to hide her emotions…
or those soft lips, or the way she responds to me sexually… shit.
It’s all of the above.
Karina Rossi, what have you done to me?
Christ, the suction of her hot, hungry mouth on my cock just won’t fade.
She’d taken me in hesitantly, as if she hadn’t the first clue what to do with my dick.
But despite her inexperience, she figured it out fast enough.
I barely had to guide her, even—it was like she was discovering her new favorite hobby.
No woman has ever sucked me down like that before, wanting it, loving it, her eyes blazing into mine until I came, until she swallowed down every last drop of me.
Maybe the leftover endorphins are still muddling my brain and making it impossible for me to be angry over the secret she kept about her lineage.
But the truth of it can’t be denied any longer.
Karina’s uncle is a Bruno. Which makes my Juliet a fine piece of sweet, poison fruit.
She sure as hell tastes like sin, and the addictive effect she’s having on me is going to be a huge problem if I don’t get myself under control.
But something else is nagging at me. I need to tell my brothers about her. There’s no way I can keep this information to myself. At the same time, I know Armani. He’ll lose it if I tell him.
Fuck, I don’t know what to do.
Just then, a member of the domestic staff bustles in to check on us. “Can I get anyone anything? More coffee?” she asks, clearing dishes and toast crumbs off the table.
“No thank you,” Dante says. “Marco?”
“I’m fine.” But I’m not. It’s just that the thought of eating food right now makes my stomach sour.
“I need to get to work anyway. I’m heading to the office,” Dante says.
“Me too.” Armani nods, picks up his mug of coffee, and exits the dining room.
Dante starts to follow him but then looks back at me with a lift of his brows. “Are you coming? I need to discuss a few more things with you.”
“Sure. I’ll be right there.”
Truthfully, I need a few minutes alone to think.
Karina’s lineage isn’t just a mindfuck, it’s a gamechanger.
A cockblocking, deal-breaking, red flag of doom.
A part of me wants to be angry with her, even though I know she wasn’t being evasive on purpose.
And even if she was, she didn’t ask to be born into that family.
She was obviously hoping I wouldn’t find out.
But why didn’t she say anything before I fell for her so hard?
I never expected any woman to get under my skin the way Karina has.
I don’t know if I can give her up.
After finishing my coffee, I head outside into the warmth of the sun as I walk to the winery offices. It’s a good thing I know my way around the estate like the back of my hand, because my mind is still a million miles away as I make the short stroll across the property.
“Took you long enough. You trying to get frisky with the kitchen staff again?”
Dante is sitting at his desk when I arrive in his office.
He’s teasing me, which is something I’m still trying to get used to.
Since deciding that he actually enjoys being married, he’s come a long way in morphing into a nicer version of himself.
His attitude is a hundred times better, but his trademark stone face hasn’t learned to tag along just yet.
“When are you going to learn to smile, bro? You do it like this.” I flash my trademark grin to combat his scowl.
I’ve been told it’s a cross between Chris Hemsworth and Dwayne Johnson and while I barely know who those guys are, I’ll take it as a compliment.
My smile has gotten me out of—and into—a lot of trouble in my life, but at least no one has ever accused me of being a downer like Dante.
“Funny. I do smile. Go get your laptop. I need to sync some files with you.”
Holding back a groan, I head down the hall to the private office that I never use. I’ve got bigger things to think about than whatever files my brother wants to send me.
I’ve got to figure out what to do about Karina.
And it’s race season, too. Whatever happens with the winery is really the last thing on my care-about list. I’ve got follow-up calls to make with race sponsors and a couple of event invites I need to confirm.
I can’t afford to miss a single opportunity for marketing myself around the circuit, not when I’m placing so well and making a name for myself.
I’ve been looking for another sponsor to take the place of Bellanti Vineyards.
My brothers really came through, sponsoring me the way they did, but their name on my car isn’t the future I envision. I need to make my own way.
Because one day, I’m going to be living the life I always dreamed of. And everything to do with the winery, the mafia shit, the endless drama, and the need to constantly be looking over my shoulder—all of that will be a thing of the past.
Stepping into my office, I swing the door closed behind me, but the latch doesn’t click. The tap of nails on wood, followed by scent of heady gardenia perfume, follows the eventual click of the door.
“You didn’t call me back last night,” a throaty female voice purrs.
Fuck. Jessica.
I don’t turn to acknowledge her. “Yeah, something came up.”
“There’s been a lot of that lately.” Her heels click across the floor as she approaches me.
Turning, I give her a cursory glance and then drop into the chair behind my desk.
She looks good in a green blouse and pencil skirt with her hair pulled back.
Jessica always looks good. She’s a beautiful woman, and an absolute firecracker in bed.
But the rush of excitement I normally get when I think about that doesn’t make an appearance.
Normally, I’d be encouraging her to lock the door and get on her knees while I unzip my pants, but I wish she’d leave instead. I don’t want anything to interfere with the replay of Karina before me, her soft hands and mouth on my hard cock, her curious tongue licking at every drop.
Fuck.
My cock twitches.