CHAPTER FIVE
VINO
I stepped out of the SUV, Xavier and Theron flanking me as we entered the store. Theron veered left past the soda coolers, heading toward the back office to secure the security footage.
Santon’s men were too focused on their own destruction to notice they were outnumbered.
Xavier stood beside me, his hands loosely clasped in front of him.
“What the fuck are you doing in my territory?” I said, my voice even but edged with warning.
The taller of the two, a dark-haired punk, shoved a basket of bananas to the floor instead of answering.
Xavier moved, but I lifted a hand, stopping him. The motherfucker blatantly disrespected me.
The only thing stopping me from smashing his face into the ground was my concern for not further traumatizing the cashier. The other guy, stocky with brown hair, had the nerve to glare at me and Xavier, his nostrils flaring. Unlike his reckless partner, he at least seemed to recognize the weight of the situation.
Their casual attire—jeans, t-shirts, and boots—stood in stark contrast to my men, always dressed in suits. The four families carried themselves with professionalism. That is until respect was lost. Then, we reminded people just how unhinged a man could be, even in a finely tailored suit.
“Our boss, Michaelangelo sent us to collect payment…Vino,” the taller one finally answered.
The disrespect in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.
I glanced at the woman behind the counter. “Get down on the floor. I’ll handle this.”
Her brown cheeks were wet with tears, and her body shook as she crouched down behind the counter.
Turning my attention back to Santons men, I spoke evenly. “This business, along with the others in Hackensack, is under the Romanos’ protection. I could’ve let my men drag your sorry asses to me, but I’m tired of Michelangelo’s bullshit. So I decided to deliver the message personally.”
The stocky one squared his shoulders, his voice shaking as he blurted, “This is Santon territory now.”
Xavier and I exchanged a look before laughing. The poor bastard didn’t even believe his own words.
“Oh, is that so?” I said, amusement fading.
“We’re not leaving with you,” the taller man snarled. “Our men are waiting out back.”
Before he could finish, Theron and Max pressed Glocks against the backs of their heads.
“I’d say you are,” I said with a smirk.
Xavier relieved them of their weapons.
“Max, ETA on cleanup?” I asked.
“Fifteen minutes out,” he confirmed.
“Get a few kids in here to clean up the store,” I ordered.
Theron nodded. “No problem, boss.”
I crouched, picked up a fallen banana, and turned to the mouthy one. “Your disrespect hasn’t gone unnoticed.” I shoved the unpeeled banana into his mouth. He gagged, choking.
“No one talks to me like that.” I gripped his t-shirt and drove my knee into his gut. He doubled over, gasping. “You come into my territory and harass businesses under our protection?”
I drove my fist into his face. Once. Twice. Again. His body sagged, the other man watching in silent horror, knowing better than to move.
Breathing heavily, I stepped back and jutted my chin toward the back door.
The tall one wrenched the banana from his throat, coughing violently. My guys hauled the men out of the rear exit.
Running a hand down my black suit jacket, I peeked over the counter. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”
The cashier stood shakily, meeting my gaze.
“We’ll get the store cleaned up,” I assured her.
A small, relieved smile touched her lips.
I pulled five hundred-dollar bills from my pocket, placing them on the counter. “This is for the bananas. The rest is for you.”
“Did you pay them for this month’s protection service?” I asked.
She hesitated before whispering, “Yes.”
“I’ll get that money back,” I promised. “You won’t pay twice.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but this time, there was gratitude behind them. “Thank you.”
I nodded before walking out and slipping into the back seat of my SUV.
Xavier circled around back, throwing the vehicle into park before climbing out.
To my left, another SUV sat still. The backup these idiots had brought with them. Dead.
Xavier popped the trunk as Theron and Max dragged the two battered, zip-tied assholes toward the vehicle.
“The boss will see you motherfuckers now,” Xavier growled.
Without hesitation, Theron and Max tossed the men onto a plastic sheet lining the trunk. Xavier slammed it shut.
My men were fed up with the Santon mafia family constantly over stepping.
The moment I got Claire to a safe house; my brother and I were going after the Santons with everything we had. Waiting wasn’t an option. Mafia families faced battles every day. Pulling her into my world wasn’t fair, but it was inevitable. If she was going to survive, she’d have to be stronger than she already was.
“Thanks for coming along,” I chuckled, peeking over the seat.
The tall one coughed, his voice ragged. “The Santons will make you pay for this.”
I smirked. “Guess that banana I shoved down your throat wasn’t enough.”
Xavier kept his eyes on the road as I leaned over the seat. My fist connected with the tall one’s face. Again. And again. Blood splattered as I drove my gloved knuckles into his skin.
“I’m the motherfucking boss of the Romano Crime Family. You disrespectful piece of shit.”
The shorter one flinched but held his tongue.
My rage felt like it was rolling off my body in waves. I grabbed a hammer from my tool kit.
“You’ll certainly suffer for what you’ve done.” Without hesitation, I swung. The tall one screamed as the hammer shattered a bone in his lower arm, then his leg.
“The Santons are a fucking cancer,” I shouted as his screams filled the vehicle.
“My brother and I are going to cut them out for good,” I bit out.
I turned my attention to the short one. His face was pale, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Thank your boss for sending you two straight to hell.” I brought the hammer down on his thigh, then his arm, relishing the sickening crunch of impact.
Satisfied, I leaned back, my lips curling into a smirk. “I’m going to send your boss a little souvenir from each of you. A reminder of what happens to those who steal from the Romanos.”
When I was done with them, I went home, cleaned up, and made it just in time to pick up Claire for our non-date.
After the day from hell, I needed to feel her soft lips. Claire’s lips on mine felt right. She knew it too, but she fought against our connection in the end. Instead, Claire chose to hide behind sex and the temporary pleasure it brought her. But the bastard who made her lose trust in men, he’d feel my wrath soon enough.
Claire would understand soon that she was my woman. It would take time to get her to come around. Hell, it hadn’t been easy thus far. Seeing as though I originally met her back in February as Angelo. I’d known her. I meant Angelo had known her for four months. Technically, Vino just met her.
This woman had me by the balls, and she had no idea. Not that I’d offer up who I really was. Not yet.
I needed to show her she could trust me. But how could I do that when she didn’t even know I was Angelo? That was a bridge I’d have to cross later. For now, I’d break her down slowly, piece by piece. That kiss was proof she wanted—no, needed—more. Letting her take control by having sex in her place, which was really mine anyway, would make her feel safe. But soon, I’d have her exactly where she belonged. At her new residence.
But for now, I also needed to focus on my war with the Santons while also assisting with the ongoing Magarelli war.
In the midst of the wars, I told Claire I’d have a serious conversation with the CEO of a fashion empire.
I stepped into the office of Margo Zenith, fashion goddess to the fashion world. I read that in a magazine. On the surface, she was a powerhouse, but I knew the truth. Her success was built on deception, shady deals, and stolen designs.
Margo sashayed across the room, extending a perfectly manicured hand. “Mr. Romano, I understand you wanted to discuss expanding your niece’s modeling career.”
“Yes,” I said smoothly, glancing to my left.
“She’s got the height, the beauty, and the body, right?”
Margo circled Maddie like a predator sizing up its next meal.
“How old are you?” she asked.
Maddie smiled. “Seventeen.”
Margo tapped a long, yellow nail against her bottom lip. “I can definitely work with her.”
“Great,” I replied.
“Please, have a seat.” Margo flashed a smile, one that screamed she thought she’d just hit the jackpot.
“May I see her portfolio?” she asked, her fingers already twitching in anticipation.
Maddie and I settled in at the oversized white desk in the black high-back chairs. The wall behind Margo lined with magazine covers showcasing her so-called achievements. She believed they made her powerful.
I held up a flash drive. “Yes, but first, I have a few questions.”
Margo steepled her fingers. “Fire away.”
“Which designers do you work with?” I asked.
“All the majors,” she said, grinning like a cat who’d just swallowed a canary.
“Maddie has worked with many of them.” I leaned in slightly, watching for any reaction. “What about cutting-edge designers? I want her in pieces that aren’t seen anywhere else.”
Margo’s smile thinned. “Of course. I have two in mind. After reviewing her portfolio, we can move forward.”
“Sure.” I placed the flash drive in her grimy little hand.
She shoved it into her desktop USB port.
Her eyes combed through the photos. “Oh, these are perfect.”
Maddie wasn’t my niece; she was actually my cousin. Her mother, Neri, was my father’s sister, and Maddie was Neri’s youngest daughter. Luckily, for me, she enjoyed modeling as a freelancer. She didn’t work for any agency. She didn’t need to. Her family was in the mafia.
“We can discuss the financials. I’ll have my assistant draft a contract,” Margo said smoothly.
I smirked. “Before we talk money, I want to know exactly who she’ll be working with.”
Margo rattled off a few names, including Claire’s company and another designer.
“There are a couple of things Maddie should do while she’s there,” Margo added. “Get a feel for the place. If you see any designs you love, send me pictures so I can request those pieces for her. That way, she’ll be wearing a one-of-a-kind.”
I tilted my head. “Why not just call the designer and request exclusive pieces upfront?”
“Because I prefer to make that decision upfront and determine if the piece is worthy of the runway or magazine cover,” Margo explained smoothly.
Slick. That was how Claire’s designs were getting stolen.
My expression darkened. I held out my hand. “Flash drive. Now.”
“Is something the matter?” Margo asked, concern lacing her words.
“Yeah, I fucking hate liars and thieves.”
“Me too,” Maddie murmured, her voice dripping with venom.
Margo scoffed, crossing her arms. “I assure you; I am not a thief.”
“I’ve never been so insulted. You need to leave.”
Maddie casually walked to the door, and I heard the soft click of the lock engaging. The blinds flipped shut, darkening the room. She sauntered back to her seat beside me, twirling a tanned finger through her jet-black hair.
“My cousin has footage of you doing some shady shit ,” Maddie growled.
Margo’s nostrils flared. “I’m calling security.”
I leaned back, flashing a wicked grin. “Do it, and Maddie will personally introduce you to the pavement outside that window. We’re only twenty floors up.”
Margo’s face went ghostly pale.
What could I say? In the mafia, we learned young. Maddie was an exceptional soldier. When it came to dealing with women who believed they were invincible, we dispatched women from our family or female hit women who worked for us to take care of the situation. My mother would’ve loved to get her hands dirty, but I wasn’t ready for her to know about Claire yet. She’d insist on meeting her.
Maddie, though? She was perfect for this. She wouldn’t hesitate.
“Vino, show her the video. I want to see her reaction.” Maddie’s thick Jersey accent sharpened her words.
I held up my phone, playing the footage. It showed one of Margo’s male models standing by a computer, browsing designs on the desktop with Margo.
“Vicky will love these designs,” Margo’s recorded voice cooed.
She slumped back in her chair, her mouth agape. “How did you get that footage?”
I smirked. “Doesn’t matter, Margo. But if you ever steal designs again, your precious son’s sealed criminal record will magically find its way into the public eye. Harvard will toss his ass out without a second thought.”
Maddie stood and rounded the desk in one swift movement. She grabbed a fistful of Margo’s red hair, yanking her head back until their eyes met.
“Ouch!” Margo shrieked.
“Tell Mr. Romano you understand.”
“I—I understand,” Margo rushed out.
A devilish smirk spread across my lips. “Good.”
Maddie slammed Margo’s head down onto the white marble desk. A sharp crack echoed in the room as blood trickled from her forehead.
“Ahh!” she cried out.
Maddie leaned in, her grip tightening as she whispered into Margo’s ear. “I want you to fuck up. Give me a reason to show up where you least expect it. I promise I’ll make it unforgettable.” Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
I pushed back my chair, standing. “Maddie, let’s go pick up that Louis Vuitton bag you had your eye on.”
The flash drive Margo had plugged into her computer. It had already installed a virus. I didn’t need to do anything else.
Maddie would get her chance to play with Margo. Just not today.
I had a date with Claire tonight.
Earlier that day, before meeting Claire for dinner, I had to handle a problem at one of the liquor stores in my territory. It wasn’t a busy time, but I had men stationed at several businesses under our protection. One of them called to report that two men had stormed into a liquor store on Passaic, trashing the place.
My blood simmered. The audacity. My enemies knew these shop owners had been paying the Romanos for years, yet they still dared to move in.
The decorative sconces cast a warm glow as I strolled down the hallway toward my condo door.
“Hey, fellas ,” I smirked, coming to a stop before them.
“Good evening, Mr. Romano,” Renato greeted.
“Hello, sir. I’ll take those,” Amadeo said, smoothly relieving me of the paper bags.
“How’s everything tonight?” I asked.
“Quiet,” Renato replied.
I glanced between them. “I want you to question anyone new walking into Claire’s design studio. Find out exactly why they’re there.”
“No problem,” they answered in unison.
I stepped to the door and pressed the doorbell.
“Coming,” Claire yelled.
I had called her a few times leading up to today. Each time, she hesitated, unsure if she really wanted me here. That kiss had her tangled up in her own head.
Good.
She was going to see me tonight or next week. It didn’t matter. Either way, my darling Claire was going to realize she couldn’t run from this.
The door flew open, and there she stood wearing a lavender nightie with a matching robe, little black slippers on her feet.
“Hello, Vino,” she greeted with a weak smile.
I stepped forward, forcing her to take a few steps back. Her eyes widened.
Behind me, Amadeo carried the bags to the kitchen.
“Why would you answer the door like this?” I bit out, my gaze sweeping over her exposed skin.
Her brows pinched in confusion.
“There are two men outside who might think it’s okay to feast their fucking eyes on you,” I snapped.
I almost slipped and said my men. They knew how I felt about Claire. They wouldn’t dare look at her in a disrespectful way. Still, I didn’t want her opening the door in barely-there lingerie for anyone.
“Your body is for my eyes only,” I stated firmly.
Her expression darkened, lips curling in defiance.
“No, it’s not, Vino,” she snarled through gritted teeth. “How many times do I have to say that?”
“Claire, if you need anything, we’ll be right outside the door,” Amadeo said.
Her brows raised. “Isn’t it your night off?” She pushed, peeking around my muscled arm.
It was his night off, but because their boss was here, it was all hands on deck. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that.
“I’m working overtime,” he lied.
That was quick thinking. I’d have to give him something extra.
“I’ll let you know if I want you to put him out of my place,” she stated.
This little minx.
Amadeo had better sell it.
I peeked over my shoulder at my bodyguard, smiling.
“We’re here if you need us,” he grinned.
I nodded at him. My gaze fell back on Claire.
A wide smile lifted her cheeks as she looked up at me like she just achieved a great victory. The door clicked closed behind Amadeo.
“I love having bodyguards,” she snickered.
Knowing my men protected her made my chest swell.
I gripped her neck, flashing a cocky smirk as I leaned in, pulling her closer. “I can’t wait to have your pussy for dessert.”
Her chest rose and fell, those tight little nipples straining against the silk nightie.
“I’d rather you not eat my pussy.”
I arched a brow. “Why?”
Her hand slid down, gripping my cock through my blue slacks. “I want this,” she murmured, licking her lips.
I had a feeling she didn’t want both me and Angelo eating her pussy like she could only handle that kind of intimacy from one man at a time. Fair enough. Good thing I was him, and he was me.
I grinned. “Your loss.”
My grip on her throat tightened as I crashed my lips against hers in a bruising kiss. Her hands flew to my chest, pushing against me.
I pulled back just slightly, then she bit my fucking lip.
“What the fuck, Claire?” I growled.
“I said no kissing,” she scolded.
I let go of her throat, scooping her up into my arms.
“You want it now, right?”
Her gaze darted to the kitchen, curiosity flickering in her eyes as she glanced at the bags Amadeo left on the counter.
“Yes,” she breathed.
I carried her to the open kitchen, setting her down on the cool marble countertop.
“I brought food,” I told her.
Her brows lifted, intrigue flashing across her face as she kicked off her slippers.
“And a few groceries,” I added.
For a moment, her expression softened, then just as quickly, a scowl replaced it.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
Shrugging off my suit jacket, I rolled my sleeves up just below my elbows.
Her eyes dragged over my inked forearms, lingering.
Did my inked arms turn her on?
“Are you wearing panties?” I asked.
“I don’t know, am I?” She winked.
My large hands disappeared under the tiny nightie and I gripped her hips. “You aren’t.” I lifted my brows.
My hand curled around her neck again. “You’re going to ride my fucking tongue, then I’ll fuck you until you’re climbing the walls.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t understand. The other guy I was seeing. I mean am seeing,” she paused, feeling a little embarrassed.
“You’re not a bad person, Claire. You enjoy being pleased. There’s nothing wrong with that. Going forward, though, you’ll only be pleased by me.”
I squeezed harder. I swear she was about to come.
“Vino,” she choked out.
I lowered her back flush against the counter and propped her feet on the edge. “Now be a good girl and come for me.”
She shivered at my words, her breath hitching. My hands slid over her thighs, pressing them wide. I zeroed in on her wet pussy under the recessed lighting.
“Fuck,” I groaned, my control unraveling. I was truly done for.
I had missed her scent. And couldn’t wait to have her cum on my lips again. My palm left her throat, finding the soft swell of her breast as I dipped my head between her legs.
My nose brushed against her mound as I inhaled deeply. Fuck, it had been too long.
Without another second wasted, I flicked my tongue against her clit, dragging a moan from deep within her. Sliding two fingers inside her, I groaned as her tight hole squeezed them.
She hadn’t taken my dick before. This would be the first time. And keeping her off it until now? That had been pure hell.
Her fingers slipped through my dark curls, tugging as her hips arched into my mouth.
“Oh, God,” she roared.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, Claire.” The deep rumble of my voice vibrated against her, and she trembled completely at my mercy.
“Vino, please stop,” she cried.
I slid my tongue along her folds as I pinched her nipple to drive her insane.
“Vino, I asked to be fucked,” she gritted out.
I chuckled. “You’re going to get used to taking my tongue and dick.”
I circled my tongue around her clit.
Her back arched off the marble countertop. “Shit,” she moaned.
“Vino, why are you doing this to me?” She cried, removing her shaky fingers from my hair and sliding them through her own.
Because you’re mine. I’d wait to tell her the obvious. Now wasn’t the time.
“I fucking love the taste of your sweet pussy. You know you want to fuck my face.” Another dark chuckle rumbled in my chest.
I sucked her nub again and again.
“You’re killing me,” she yelled as she bucked her pussy against my face as she came hard on my tongue.
“Fuck,” I grunted as I drank every drop. I didn’t let up drinking between licks.
My hard cock strained in my slacks. I was ready to unload every drop of my cum deep inside her tight walls.
“Fuck you, Vino,” she cried out in pleasure.
I leaned over her and grabbed her nape. With my free hand I squeezed her jaw, forcing her mouth open. My lips rested against hers as I spit her cum into her mouth.
I drank the rest and a wide grin lifted my lips. “I wanted you to taste yourself. I fucking love the way you taste.”
I watched as she swallowed hard through the tears, drinking her cum. Yeah, she was full-on crying now. I let her go, only to bury my face between her thighs again, pressing against her slick, trembling pussy, ignoring the soft cries spilling from her lips.
She was mourning Angelo. That relationship had to come to an end so I could have her all to myself now. I was a selfish motherfucker even when it came to competing against me.
Then I thought, did I eat her pussy better than I had as Angelo? I didn’t think so. I mean, I never held back.
But one thing was different this time. There were no masks. No pretense. Just us, staring into each other’s souls.
And those three times I kissed her? Yeah, that had to be fucking with her head.
That bastard I needed to track down had my woman all messed up.
At this point, the dinner I brought for her would have to wait. In the meantime, I had something else to feed her.
If I gave her space to think, she’d start overanalyzing—dwelling on the kisses, the intensity, the connection that neither of us could ignore. She’d try to shut this down.
Not happening.
I stood to my full height, unbuttoning my shirt, my clean-shaven face still slick with her juices.
Claire’s hooded eyes followed my every move as I yanked off my crisp, pale blue dress shirt.
“Wow,” she muttered, gaze trailing over the ink covering my chest, snaking up the front of my neck.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out a magnum condom, and placed it on the counter. Her eyes flicked to the foil packet, then back to me.
Did I want to use a condom? Hell no. Claire was mine.
But I was willing to take my time to build her trust.
Kicking off my shoes, I unbuckled my slacks and shoved them down, along with my boxers.
My cock bobbed, thick and hard, precum glistening at the tip.
Her wide, eager eyes fell on my dick.
Did she really think she could handle my big cock?