Chapter Eighteen #2
My hand slides down, gripping her ass. I bite her lower lip and she moans into my mouth.
“I need to go,” she whispers against my lips.
“Then go,” I say, while my hands slip under her skirt, finding her pussy.
She’s already wet. Warm. Open for me.
“Okay,” she says.
But she doesn’t move.
I smirk.
“Okay,” I repeat, pushing her thong aside and sliding a finger inside her. In and out. Slow. Controlled. Her wetness coats my fingers instantly.
“Serena!” Kylie’s voice echoes from somewhere down the hall.
She breaks away from me, breathing hard, flushed and undone. Her lips are swollen, red. Her cheeks pink. I lift my hand and lick her juices from my fingers right in front of her.
“So sweet,” I whisper. “I’m going to take my time with you tonight.”
She clenches her thighs, a soft whimper escaping her before she looks away. She turns toward the exit, forcing herself to walk, but just before she leaves, she looks back at me.
One last glance.
Then she’s gone.
And I’m left with a raging fucking boner.
Perfect.
I head straight outside. Lev is smoking, Andres glued to his phone.
“What took you so long?” Lev asks, bored.
“Maybe he was just saying goodbye,” Andres replies, smirking at me.
“I saw enough fucking for today,” Lev mutters. “Let’s go.”
He climbs into his black G-Wagon, him and Andres driving identical cars, which I find boring as hell. I get into my Bugatti, the engine roaring to life.
We head straight to Cursed.
As we pull into the parking lot, the car park is empty.
Lev shut the club down for customers. Only staff remain inside.
“I’m Money” by Demrick pounds through the speakers, loud and aggressive, but Luciano hasn’t arrived yet.
Lev still has his pole dancers here, which explains why he gave Clara the day off.
Not because he wanted her to spend time with her friends.
Because he didn’t want Luciano to see her.
I go straight to the bar and pour myself a glass of vodka. Tonight it’s just me, Lev, and Andres. Kirill and Ice couldn’t make it, Kirill had an emergency with his wife, Reina, and Ice said he wasn’t in the mood to see Luciano’s face.
Fair enough.
Neither am I.
The door opens and Dante walks in with his senior guard, Sebastian.
“Lorenzo,” Dante says, shaking my hand before greeting Lev and Andres.
“Dante.” I nod.
Our relationship is tense now. Ever since he found out I let Luciano torture him.
To my defense, I genuinely thought Luciano was bluffing, but excuses don’t erase scars.
Still, I need Dante. He’s family. And more importantly, he holds power and connections within Cosa Nostra. Most of them hate Luciano’s sorry ass.
Dante is a necessary ally.
The door opens again.
Luciano’s fat ass waddles into view.
He’s brought ten guards with him, which tells me he’s not here for a civilized conversation. Understandable. I wouldn’t trust myself either. That’s why I have snipers positioned in the corners of the club and outside, quiet, patient, ready to spill blood if needed.
I’m trying to be the good man Serena wants me to be.
I stopped going underground.
Stopped fighting.
Stopped killing.
And fuck me, I crave it.
I crave violence. The thrill. The sound of bones snapping. I hope this friendly meeting ends with a body in my basement so I can bleed some of this pressure out of my system.
I’m wound too tight.
I wanted to fuck her raw. Hard. Punish her every time she pushed me away. Show her exactly who she belongs to, fuck the senses out of her until she understands there is no escape.
Some would say I’m still suffering from narcissistic personality disorder and antisocial personality disorder.
They wouldn’t be wrong.
I can’t play the good man forever.
I will be the best man Serena ever has, she’s my fucking everything, but I need destruction. I need to punish. And fuck, I need her. I want to tie her wrists, gag her, spank her every time she says she can’t forgive me. I want to fuck her senseless until she forgets why she ever tried to leave.
And yes, I killed her piece-of-shit father. Because he was a waste of air.
Now I have a fucking boner thinking about Serena naked, ropes around her wrists, helpless while I fuck her into oblivion.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Luciano says.
I have to physically stop myself from breaking his hand.
Lev and Andres nod at him politely. I keep my mouth shut. The audacity of this man, to force my hand.
Not for long. Then the door opens again, the quiet click cutting through the room, and a girl walks in with a bodyguard close behind her.
She moves carefully, like she knows exactly where she is and exactly what kind of place this is.
My gaze drags over them, disbelief tightening in my chest. For fuck’s sake.
Did this bastard really bring his daughter here?
“Lorenzo,” Luciano says smugly, “I thought it might help with your decision if you met your future bride.”
He grins and gestures toward her.
She looks annoyed. Detached. Like she’d happily watch us all burn.
“She’s Aurora,” he continues, proud. “My beautiful daughter. And your future bride.”
I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to beat the living hell out of him.