CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CLAIRE
VinohadbeencaughtupinthewarwithMichelangelo, so our planned discussion the day after we got engaged never took place. I assumed he was going to inform me that the situation with Michelangelo wasn’t calming down anytime soon and that we’d have to postpone our wedding. That was fine; I didn’t mind waiting.
However, he seemed unwilling to delay having a child. I couldn’t understand the urgency for an heir. Were his parents putting pressure on him? With everything happening, I hadn’t even met them yet. I was certain I’d meet them before the wedding, and I was curious to see if his father was an older version of him.
Despite the war eating up most of his time, Vino never missed a chance to remind me who I belonged to. Some days it was slow and intense, other days it was brutally passionate. He took me like he’d murdered twenty of his enemies and pissed he hadn’t killed the main one. We had morning sex before I worked in my home studio or headed to my New York studio. And he gave me midday dick for lunch in my office. Then back to business whatever mafia bosses actually did.
Since the tension with Michelangelo escalated, Vino rarely stepped foot in his high-rise office. He didn’t want to risk anyone’s life. Instead, he handled most of his deals remotely. I didn’t ask questions. But at some point, I’d need to know what those deals entailed just in case I ever had to step into his world and handle business myself.
I smiled at how I’d embraced my new life. Knowing my fiancé was a dangerous mafia boss excited me. He was fine as hell, and the way he adored me made it even more thrilling. The first day he brought me to the house we’d share, I laid on the comfortable bed in the all-black bedroom, thinking I’d have the energy to cook dinner and fuck my man, but he had exhausted me over the weekend.
This morning, before leaving for my studio in New York, I made breakfast. My usual morning meal consisted of bacon and pancakes. I prepared the same for Vino, but I added a couple of extras for him, such as eggs and fried potatoes.
Although I loved strawberry jam and toast, the smell of jam upset my stomach. I took a tray up to Vino, who was still asleep. He had been coming home later and later each night.
After my shower earlier, I tossed on one of his t-shirts. It was so long I looked like I was wearing a dress. It stopped right above my knees. I loved wearing Vino’s clothes. I felt closer to him.
“Vino, wake up,” I singsong as I nudged open the bedroom door.
He pulled the Glock from under his pillow as he sat straight up, looking around the room. “Someone in the house?” he rasped, chest heaving.
My eyes dropped to his tattooed chest, the sheets hanging low on his hips.
“No, I made you breakfast.” I smirked.
He slid the gun back under the pillow, exhaled, and raked a hand through his unruly dark curls as he leaned back against the headboard.
I placed the tray over his lap, the scent of crispy bacon curling in the air.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
“You’re welcome.” I smiled.
He tugged at the hem of the t-shirt, drawing me closer. His nose brushed my mound as he inhaled me deeply before trailing his tongue along my wet folds.
My eyes rolled back as I moaned, “Vino,” while my fingers tangled in his silky hair.
His tongue flicked my clit, and I hollered, “Fuck.”
He held me there, tongue relentless, until I came hard and fast, gasping his name.
“You know I need to kiss those lips every morning,” he growled, settling back before resuming his meal.
What a rush. It felt amazing knowing my pussy was my fiancé’s favorite delicacy. A delicious shiver shot up my spine at the thought.
“Yeah, I know,” I replied with a wicked smirk, squeezing my thighs together.
I realized I’d have to take another shower. I couldn’t possibly go into the office with cum filling my panties and slipping down my leg.
“I’m off to shower,” I announced as I turned toward the bathroom.
Then the question I’d been meaning to ask suddenly surfaced. Peeking over my shoulder, I said, “Quick question—this keeps slipping my mind.”
“What’s up?” he asked, shoveling a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.
“Why did you send Michelangelo ground chuck? Does it mean something?”
Vino chuckled. “Yeah, it means I sent some of his men back to him.” His eyes darkened. “As ground chuck.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I could ever look at ground chuck the same way again.
“Oh. That’s quite the image.”
The thought of my soon-to-be husband dispatching his enemy as ground chuck sent shivers down my spine. Was it wrong that I found it arousing? I couldn’t quite say. I was getting more entangled in this mafia life, and I eagerly anticipated the day I’d confront Ivan and his bitch of a wife, Polina, both of whom had stolen my power years ago, and now I was reclaiming it. A sinister grin spread across my face as I turned on the shower, clearly influenced by my mafia boss fiancé.
A sharp wave of nausea slammed into me. I dropped to my knees, clutching the toilet as I heaved, like my insides were trying to escape. Bacon and pancakes betrayed me now, too? What the hell was left?
I groaned and leaned over the bowl, praying it was just the flu and not something more serious. Maybe a nasty bug. I needed something stronger than a Z-pack. Time to book a doctor’s appointment.
Fingers brushed my hair back, lifting it from my clammy neck.
“Are you sick?” Vino asked behind me, voice low and concerned.
“I think so. I might have the flu. I have to oversee a project today, but I promise I’ll see the doctor during my lunch break,” I replied, swiping the back of my hand across my mouth as I stood up.
Vino flushed the toilet and stepped back. He watched me rinse my mouth and wash my hands, his expression unreadable.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, grabbing my toothbrush.
“Maybe you’re pregnant. First the jam, now pancakes? Your stomach’s been rebelling a lot lately.”
Holding the toothpaste firmly, I stopped in the middle of squeezing. “I’m on birth control, Vino,” I said, placing the toothpaste back in the drawer before starting to brush my teeth.
He moved in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his lips brushing the curve of my neck. “My swimmers are relentless. Those pills never stood a chance.”
I smirked around my toothbrush. “We’ll see what the doctor says.”
I wanted this life with him. Every day he made me feel like the most cherished woman on earth. But babies? Right now? I wasn’t sure. My career was finally gaining traction. My Milan runway debut was set for next year, thanks to my benefactor, pumping funds into my company.
On my drive into the city, I called the doctor to make an emergency appointment. When I arrived at work, my staff bombarded me with a barrage of questions. I could barely set my bag on my desk.
As I surveyed the bustling studio, warmth blossomed in my chest. I loved what I did for a living. No matter how much I cherished my home fashion design studio, nothing compared to chatting with my team in person. Eventually, I even planned to allow a few staff members to work from my home when I couldn’t make it into New York. I smiled as I thought about living in Jersey and being chauffeured to work. So much had changed in the past seven months.
I moved through the space, checking their work, when I noticed one seamstress using the wrong fabric for a design. “Meela, that’s the wrong fabric.”
She pushed her orange rimmed glasses up her nose. “This is what Porsha brought to me.”
“Porsha?” I called out.
A hush fell over the large room.
“Yes, boss?” she called out, jogging over, clutching her phone behind her.
I held up the bolt of fabric. “This is the wrong one. The blend’s off. The dress won’t drape properly.”
Her brows knitted. “Oh, shoot. I-I thought—”
I didn’t wait for more excuses. I beelined to the fabric room, yanked out the right rolls, and placed them beside Meela. “Use these. Porsha and I will help you get the project back on track.”
“I’ll get right on it. Don’t worry, Claire. I’ll work late if I have to,” she promised.
“Porsha and I are going to help you tackle this workload.”
“Boss?” Meela started.
I raised my hand. “Meela, you’re an outstanding employee. We’ve got your back. Just give us a minute.”
I grabbed Porsha’s arm as I shot a glance at Amadeo. “Order lunch from Mannies Eatery to arrive at noon.”
“What about your doctor’s appointment?” he asked.
I released Porsha’s arm.
“Damn, I’ll have to push it until tomorrow. I can’t afford to lose this client because of one of my employee’s mistakes.” I side eyed Porsha.
Amadeo nodded and then moved away.
“Come to my office, Porsha.”
She followed me and took the chair across from my desk and I eased into mine. I was exhausted already and the day just began.
“We’ve worked too hard to build this brand,” I said evenly. “One mistake can sabotage a major account.”
She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll stay late and help Meela. You don’t have to.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m staying too.”
My gaze softened. “You’re distracted. Always on your phone, grinning. Your personal life is bleeding into your work.”
She hesitated. “It’s… complicated.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“If it’s serious with this guy and he truly cares, he’ll respect your career.”
She ran a hand over her coils and muttered under her breath, “It was just a one-night stand again.”
“It’s turned into more than that. Damn, I need to stop seeing him,” she added, sounding as if she were convincing herself to move on.
I asked, “Where did you meet this guy, and what does he do?”
She looked away briefly, then met my eyes slowly. “I met him years ago. We spoke at the club. The night we went out after work.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Was he the guy you danced with?”
“No.” Biting the corner of her lip, she replied, “It was Vince—Vino’s brother.”
If color could drain from my face, I’d be white as a ghost.
I remembered them talking after Vino beat up that guy. I had no idea they had history.
Did she know he was a dangerous mafia boss? I wasn’t about to ask. I’d wait until she volunteered that information.
“Is something wrong? Is there a problem with Vince?” she asked.
“I don’t know much about him. I’ve had a few FaceTime conversations with him. But he and Vino have been caught up with their business, so we haven’t had a chance to really talk.”
“I’m going to tell Vince we can’t see each other anymore.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back at me. “Archie’s been showing up again.”
I absolutely hated Archie. He was a pretty boy red headed leech, never good for Porsha. He only appeared when he wanted something, and that prick had used her so badly that her family cut her off financially.
She tapped her fingers on her mahogany cheek. “Yeah, no more Vince.”
I could see the pain in her eyes. She didn’t want to end things with him.
“Tell Vince that Archie’s harassing you.”
She shook her head. “I’m going to get a restraining order. It’s long overdue.”
I sensed she was holding something back.
“You know you can talk to me. If you ever need help, just let me know. I’ll speak with Vino. He and I can handle it,” I said as I stood.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘handle it’?”
I smirked. “We’re a power couple. We don’t stand by while someone we care about is being taken advantage of.”
I took her hand in mine. “I’ll never forget how you held me down in college. I’ve got your back. You hear me?”
She ran around the desk and hugged me. “We got each other.”
I exhaled. “We do.”
Porsha and I went to assist Meela with the designs so we could get the garments to the merchant on time.
I entered the house at about eight o’clock. Vino had informed me he was heading home. Should be here in thirty minutes. I was too tired to cook, so I had my bodyguards grab dinner on the way. Sitting at the kitchen counter, I quickly ate my avocado salad. I knew Vino wouldn’t mind if I didn’t cook dinner; he always prioritized my well-being. However, it was important to me he was also looked after and had a good meal. Smiling, I made sure to put his food in the warmer.
Today was long, and I needed to be pleased and put to bed.
After a shower, I slipped on one of his crisp white dress shirts and a pair of red stilettos. No bra. No panties. I made my way into his office and sank into his large office chair with a few buttons left undone, letting my bouncy curls fall over my chest as I kicked my feet up on his desk, crossing them at the ankles.
I heard the front door close.
“Shit. He’s here,” I muttered.
“Claire,” he called out.
I should grab one of his cigars. I had seen him pull one from his side drawer one day, and that look would be incredibly sexy.
“I’m in your office,” I hollered out.
I pulled the drawer open. The cigars. Jackpot. I grabbed one out of the box. I had no plans to light it. Just wanted to hold it between my fingers to complete my look. But then something shiny caught my eye under the box. Something gold. I moved the box aside. My stomach dropped. I pulled out a gold mask.
“What the fuck?” I exclaimed, dropping my feet from the desk.
“Hey, baby,” Vino said as he walked in.
His eyes fell on the mask I was holding, and just like that, his whole damn face changed.
“What are you doing with this?” I asked, my voice low and tight.
I reached into the drawer and pulled out more masks. They tumbled from my hands onto the desk like secrets exploding into the open.
“You have tons of gold masks. And I’ve only seen this mask on one man. Angelo.” I stepped around the desk, every cell in my body humming.
“Do you know him? Is this some kind of game? Are you passing me between the two of you?”
I yanked off my pretty stilettos and tossed them across the room. Fuck the sexy look. I was beyond pissed. I felt like ripping the shirt off, too, but I was naked underneath.
Vino just chuckled.
He fucking chuckled.
He stepped past me. “No, one’s passing you around.” Vino reached for the cigar I had dropped, took the cutter, clipped the end, then unbuttoned his jacket and sank into the chair.
“Come sit down,” he said, patting his thigh as he lit the cigar.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not sitting down. Tell me how the hell you know Angelo.”
Smoke curled from his mouth as he looked up at me with that cocky-ass smirk.
“This is what I wanted to talk to you about after we got engaged,” he said. “My full name is Vincenzo Angelo Romano.”
I blinked twice, confused by what he said. “Angelo doesn’t have neck tattoos, and you two have different colored eyes.”
He blew out three perfect smoke rings like he wasn’t ripping my reality apart.
“You didn’t go to the doctor yet to see if you’re pregnant,” he said casually. “Don’t worry. I bought some pregnancy tests.”
“Don’t change the subject,” I snapped. “Did you let someone use your middle name?”
“No. I’m Angelo and I’m also Vino,” he said, taking another puff of his cigar.
“My cousin Noah had an issue with an enemy who attempted to harm your sister, Hope. I assisted them with that issue.”
He knew my sister? I was taken aback; this still didn’t make sense to me.
“My sister never mentioned you,” I retorted.
“She wasn’t supposed to,” he said simply.
“I asked her not to. We were at a charming little diner when I inquired if she had a cute sister. She showed me a video of you.” He stared at me like I was still the girl in the video. “Your smile. Your laugh was infectious.I told her you were off limits and not to mention me to you.”
“Was that around Christmas?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “They were in that charming little Christmas town.”
I swallowed hard, mind racing. “I still don’t understand what this has to do with you being Angelo.”
He leaned back in the chair and puffed the cigar.
And I just stood there, staring at the man I thought I knew, trying to make sense of it all.
He slid a hand over his handsome face. “I dug into your life. I needed to know everything about you before I made my move. I got my friends Dillon and Marco to have their wives, Sierra and Emoni, set up a masquerade ball in your honor. I even called my buddy Tony to craft a prosthetic mask for me, and I wore violet contacts that night. I just wanted a chance to speak with you when you weren’t guarded. You got tipsy. Next thing you know, my fingers found their way into your pussy.” He flashed a cocky smirk.
“So you’re Angelo,” I said, pacing the floor. “You said you organized the masquerade ball, yet my benefactor claimed they did.”
He leaned forward, his elbows planted on his knees, while the scent of his cigar—a mix of cherry and vanilla—washed over me.
“I’m your benefactor,” he said as he rested the cigar in the ashtray. “The condo you’re staying in belongs to me. The men guarding you are my bodyguards.”
It was as if an axe had struck my chest; I couldn’t breathe. “No, no, no, no,” I roared.
“What is it about me that makes men feel they must possess me? Do I come off as meek? Weak?” I asked as tears blurred my vision.
He jumped up so fast, causing the chair to fly back with great force. Vino stalked toward me, chest heaving. “I admit it, I’m fucking obsessed with you. I have been ever since the day I first saw you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe. You’re going to be my wife.”
I shoved against his chest, but he didn’t budge. “No, the fuck I’m not.”
I ran to the balcony, pushing the doors open, desperate for fresh air. “You fucking played me!”
His heavy footsteps got closer. I could feel his body heat. “No, I didn’t. I intended to tell you who I was, but the truth got away from me. I was focused on diverting your attention from Angelo to me.”
Slipping an arm around my waist, his lips grazed the crook of my neck. “You’re having my baby, Claire.”
I shrugged off his allure, putting distance between us. “I’m not pregnant. I’m on the pill, Angelo, Vino, whatever your name is.”
“Trust me, you’re pregnant.”
My brows furrowed in disbelief.
“I may have taken matters into my own hands. Once you agreed to have sex unprotected, I switched out your birth control pills for sugar pills.”
“You did what?” I yelled.
“We’re getting married. Before you give birth, your last name will be Romano.”
I burst into uncontrollable laughter. “Me? Marry you? In your fucking dreams, Mr. Possessive Mafia Boss.”
“Yeah, I’m possessive. And obsessed with you, Claire. I’m not wrong for giving you everything you deserve,” he roared.
“You did it the wrong way.” I jabbed a finger at his chest. “You’re no better than…”
His eyes clouded with darkness. “Don’t fucking say it, Claire.”
I met his gaze and said, “You’re just like Ivan—controlling, manipulative. He pushed my face into a mirror of coke. You got me pregnant before I was ready. I have a career… you’re rotten,” I sneered.
I watched as his fist curled at his side.
My eyes narrowed even more. “There’s no difference between you two.”
Vino lowered his head.
“He’s in the bratva and you’re in the mafia. Both of you are obsessive, willing to do whatever the fuck you want. Next, when you’ve had enough of my pussy, you’ll lock me in some wing of this house and go looking for another version of me.”
My body blazed with heat.
He closed the distance between us. “So you say I’m like him,” he growled.
When I peered into his eyes, I realized the man I once knew was gone. Only the ruthless mafia boss remained, ready to hurt me.
“I’ll show you I can be just as menacing as him.”
I visibly swallowed hard, terrified that he might kill me. My heart hammered, threatening to burst from my chest.
He stepped into my space, eyes hollow. “Run.”
I couldn’t recognize the man I’d loved. I tore out of the house, my bare feet slapping against the green blades of grass as I sprinted toward the woods. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him taking long, determined strides across the lawn. At some point, he had taken off his suit jacket. Vino casually folded the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt to his forearms.
How was I supposed to escape his property? There had to be a fence around the perimeter…I could climb it.
“Claire, you can’t escape me!” he shouted, voice chillingly playful.
My Vino had finally snapped.
“You’re carrying my baby. The heir to the Romano throne. We’re getting married, baby. Even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the altar. You’re mine, Claire,” he bellowed like a fucking psychopath.
I ran through the pitch-black woods, my hands outstretched blindly feeling for trees. My bare foot slammed against a stick, and I covered my mouth to stifle a scream. Ducking behind a large tree, I fought to steady my trembling breath.
“Oh, no? You’re not mine? Then why can I smell your sweet arousal?” he jeered.
“You want daddy to get down on his knees to lick your pussy before I thrust my big dick into your tight core because that’s fuck—ing mine.”
I pressed my legs together tightly. My pussy was betraying me, aroused by this deranged beast of a man. What was happening to me? Had I become so turned on that I’d let this psychopath fuck me in the woods?
“I know these woods like the back of my hand. I’ll find you, gorgeous,” he vowed, his voice sounding as though it were drawing closer.
I held my breath.
“You want to fuck my tongue, sweetheart?”
I closed my eyes and squeezed my legs together tighter. Trying to stop my traitorous pussy.
“I bet you’re coming right now,” he murmured, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.
I could smell him all around me. My eyes slowly opened.
“Boo,” he shouted.
“Ah,” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Without hesitation, he wrapped a hand around my neck and my eyes widened. Vino dropped to his knees. In the darkness, his eyes locked with mine as he drew my labia into his mouth. Strangely, even though his lips barely grazed my vagina, I found myself overwhelmed, climaxing all over his face. He didn’t relent; he drank me in hungrily, his slurping echoing through the woods.
“Oh, fuck,” I cried out—it was, without question, the most intense fear-induced orgasm I’d ever experienced. It was the only one of its kind, especially compared to when Ivan fucked me that last time, which had brought nothing but pain. This man seemed to worship the very ground I walked on.
My fingers tangled in his hair as my pussy bucked against his face, trembling as if I were high. “Fuck, you taste so addictive. This sweet pussy is mine. I’d kill a motherfucker for it,” he murmured before rising and lifting me into his arms. Vino slammed his hard dick deep inside me.
“Oh God,” I whimpered. He felt so unbelievably good.
“Fuck me hard,” I demanded.
My fingers clawed at his back, while my body collided repeatedly with the massive tree in a rhythm fueled by raw desire.
“You know this pussy is mine. I’m still going to murder that motherfucker with my bare hands. He hurt what’s mine. The difference between him and me is that I love you. I want to give you everything. I’d never hurt you physically—only pleasure you, baby.”
Sex with Vino—or Angelo—was always euphoric.
“Come inside me,” I begged.
His hand returned to my neck and tightened its grip. “Come for me, baby. All over your dick. This dick is all yours—no one else’s.”
“Mine,” I croaked, even as he nearly cut off my air supply. His grip loosened just enough to let me breathe and come hard.
“Vino,” I shouted.
“You look so free when you come,” he groaned as he released deep inside me.
Vino gently lowered me to my feet and adjusted his clothes before scooping me up into his arms and carrying me back to the house.
“I can’t be with you, Vino,” I sobbed into his chest.
My wounds were fresh and raw. He was like two men—two halves I had let in, each making me feel both vulnerable and safe, only to later betray my trust.
“Your bodyguards will take you wherever you want to go.”
I was happy he didn’t try to fight me on this. Even though I wanted nothing to do with his world anymore. A world I grew to love. Pain struck my heart.
“I want new bodyguards. They betrayed me too,” I sniffled.
“They kept you safe. Those men would lay down their lives for you. They stay,” he insisted.
A shiver ran through me.
When he reached the top of the steps, he lowered me to my feet.
“We’re still getting married next month—a few days after my birthday,” he said as he continued toward the master suite.
I ran my fingers through my hair and snorted, “You’re fucking delusional if you think I’ll marry you.”
He met my gaze and replied, “This is the fucking underworld,” punctuating his words by pointing at the floor.
His blue eyes were icy—cold and unyielding.
“The only reason that motherfucker Ivan didn’t put two in your pretty fucking head is because Gia protected you. Yeah, I’m selfish. Had to have you to my fucking self. I did things my way. Brought you into my dark world without your knowledge. But let me remind you. Just last month, you witnessed a murder, correct?”
Arms crossing my chest, I stared blankly at him, refusing to answer his question.
“Claire, I am a fucking boss. My job is to protect my family and my men. If anything happens to them, I take care of their families.”
He inched closer. “By right, I’m supposed to blow your brains out and be done with it. Because you aren’t supposed to leave after witnessing what you did.”
His words sent shivers all over my body. Tears streamed my cheeks because I was witnessing the monster so many did right before they died.
His large hands cupped my face, and I stood stiff as a board while he peered into my soul.
“You compared me to that slimy piece of shit who wants to lock you up and then parade you around whenever he feels like it, all because he’s got a wife. Make no mistake: if he ever got his hands on you, that’s exactly what he’d do. You’re my fiancée—the only woman I love. You will be my wife. There are no other fucking women. I’m flying to Russia to kill that motherfucker. So go sulk. Hate me if you want. I don’t give a fuck. Just know that you’re going to be my wife.”
He released me and walked deeper into the bedroom.
I stood there in shock, his cum trailing down my legs. Sulk? He told me to go sulk. What a fucking asshole.
I stormed into the closet, ripped the stunning engagement ring from my finger, and set it on the shelf.
That arrogant jerk thought I’d still marry him. I furiously shoved clothes into my suitcase.
Shit, I needed to wash his cum off my body. Once I reached my destination, I’d take a shower. I exhaled deeply, tying my hair up into a messy bun with an elastic band. As I left the closet, I glanced to my left and saw Vino in the shower. His forehead rested against the wall, water streaming over his tattooed back and that huge member between his legs.
I headed down the hallway to the nearest guest bathroom. I couldn’t believe Vino became my benefactor in January. I’d known him as Angelo since February. I squeezed my eyes shut as a tear slipped down my cheek. For three and a half months, he was Angelo to me, and for the last two months, he had been Vino.
He manipulated me. I couldn’t ignore that.
You can’t, huh, Claire? The man created a shell company so he could financially bank roll your life.
I palmed the edge of the counter and sighed. Another rich man throwing his money around because he was obsessed with me.
I contemplated the idea of moving to Milan and asking Gia for her protection. Gazing at my reflection in the mirror, my hand brushed over my flat stomach. Did this man really get me pregnant? Silence enveloped me. “I can’t keep it,” I whispered.