Chapter 3
Rosie
While I get ready, I second-guess my decision to have sex with some stranger.
It’s been a year since I first thought of going to Paradiso, and I must’ve changed my mind a hundred times.
Also, we were busy planning Gianna’s wedding while I had to get used to being a capo. Spoiler alert. I haven’t and don’t think I ever will.
At least there’s the upside that I managed to get millions out of all the capos to build my fortress, as I lovingly like to call my masterpiece.
I took an old eight-story building and converted it into my base of operations. The place is badass even if I say so myself.
I made a secret entrance in what used to be the underground parking area for us to use. The original first-floor entrance isn’t used by anyone. It’s guarded by high-tech cameras that scan every inch around the clock and rigged to explode if breached.
Nothing and no one gets in without my knowing.
Once someone makes it through the parking area, it’s up to me to allow them into the first elevator that scans for weapons. Only three people have codes to let themselves in. Christiano, Enzo, and Dad.
When the elevator opens on the fifth floor, visitors have to get past a hidden wall that reveals the second elevator, which opens up to the nest where the control center is located.
I keep the temperature near freezing so my babies, the servers and mainframes, don’t overheat.
Wanting to be a little dramatic, I have floor-to-ceiling monitors covering an entire wall. My workstation, which sits at the heart of the room on a raised platform, is surrounded by massive curved screens, custom hardware, and enough processing power to cripple governments.
There’s still a lot more I want to do, though. I’d like to build a safe room in the underground parking area that can double as a boardroom. Just in case I have to blow this place, I’d like to have a room that can take the beating.
Before my thoughts can run away with me, I focus on what I’m doing as I pick up the blond wig and carefully put it on. I’ve braided my light brown hair very tight to ensure the short bob style looks natural on me.
Knowing Gianna doesn’t approve of me losing my virginity to some stranger at a club, I haven’t brought it up to her again after I told her at Christiano’s birthday party last year. Instead, I waited for her to leave for her honeymoon before setting my plan in motion.
Once I’m done getting ready, I stand up and check my reflection in the full-length mirror.
I’m wearing a provocative lace bodysuit, which I’ll keep covered with a coat, stilettos that might break my neck, and the most makeup I’ve ever put on.
If I accidentally run into someone I know, they shouldn’t recognize me.
Lifting my eyebrow, I give myself an approving look.
Not bad, Rosie.
The bodysuit has a slit at the bottom for easy access. That way, I won’t have to get butt naked.
It’s now or never.
Grabbing the coat from my bed, I shrug it on and tie the belt tightly as I leave my apartment on the seventh floor of the building.
I’ve only told Alessio, my head guard, where I’m going after swearing him to secrecy.
When I reach the underground parking area, I walk to the SUV with the blacked-out windows and grin at Alessio. “What do you think?”
His eyebrows fly up, then he shakes his head. “The blond hair and makeup are so not you.”
“Good. That’s the idea.”
Alessio has been my guard for over three years, and we’ve become good friends.
He’s the only guard I allow in my fortress. The rest stay outside. Christiano is so damn stressed about my safety, he’s saddled me with a team of ten men, and it gets very overwhelming at times.
After I climb into the backseat and Alessio starts the engine, he asks, “Are you sure about going to Paradiso?”
“Yep. Don’t try to change my mind.”
“As long as this is what you want,” he murmurs before pressing the remote to open the steel doors.
While he drives me to the Vitale’s club, I check to make sure everything is ready. I hacked into the system and booked lucky room number seven for myself. Not wanting to know who I’ve been paired with, I avoid looking at the guy’s information and just make sure it still shows my fake profile.
Sherrie Simpson. Age 26. Anonymous hookup. Dim lighting. No faces. No talking. Only sex. No orgasm.
I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to orgasm and don’t want the guy to keep trying for ages, so I opted out to avoid things getting awkward. I just want to have sex and experience what it’s like without any frills or fuss.
When Alessio parks the car near the exclusive club, my stomach shrivels into a tight ball of nerves.
“Still time to go home,” my guard says.
“Nope. Don’t let anyone see you,” I remind him before I get out and walk to the entrance.
I focus on moving differently, swinging my hips sensually while keeping my chin down so some of the hair hangs over my cheeks and jaw.
Let’s see what getting laid is all about.
Lila, the hostess, greets me with a welcoming smile, and because she’s never met me in person, I’m not worried at all.
It takes a few minutes of pretending I care about being shown around the club.
I have access to all the cameras in every business and even some of the homes in the Cosa Nostra, so I know the layout of the club.
Finally, Lila takes me down a hallway, and I’m shown to room number seven.
My heartbeat speeds up, and for a moment I second-guess my plan, but already here, I shun the doubts.
The private room feels more like a luxury hotel suite than part of a club. Soft amber lighting glows from hidden fixtures in the walls, leaving the space dim and intimate without plunging it into darkness.
My eyes lock on the king-sized bed draped in charcoal linens that dominates the middle of the room.
I set my bag down on the armchair, and knowing I have a couple of minutes, I peek into the private bathroom finished in polished stone and brushed gold fixtures.
When slow, sensual music drifts from concealed speakers overhead, creating a seductive atmosphere, I know it’s time.
Shit. Here we go.
My heart beats faster and faster, and sucking in a deep breath, I take off the coat and drape it over my handbag. I kick off the uncomfortable stilettos, and climbing onto the bed, I move into a kneeling position, my back to the door.
I’m hyperaware of my surroundings, and the moment I hear movement, my muscles tense up.
You’ve only booked this room for fifteen minutes. It won’t take longer than that.
Just fifteen minutes.
A weird sensation skitters down my spine, and just as I begin to frown, fingers brush over the tattoo on my back, which spans from beneath my shoulder blades to the top of my butt.
Even though I expected to be touched, I still jolt before trying to mask it by moving onto my hands and knees.
I hear a zipper being pulled down, and it makes a shiver rush through my body. When the sound of the guy putting on a condom and lube registers, my eyebrows draw together, and I bite my bottom lip while my hands fist the covers.
Is he staying fully clothed?
The instant I feel his cock at my entrance and his hand on my hip, my eyes go wide as saucers, and heat flushes my neck and face as I’m hit with a severe case of embarrassment.
Nope. A year wasn’t long enough to think about this. I need another minute.
Before I can say the safe word I selected, he thrusts hard. A gasp is ripped from my throat as he hits deep while yanking my butt against his pelvis.
The pain is so intense that my thighs instantly tremble and my elbows buckle. I’m given a moment to adjust, but my mind is too scrambled to take in anything.
He pulls back, and on the next thrust, I grab a pillow and shove my face into it to smother my gasps.
I’m so rattled and caught off guard by the burning ache that I don’t think to put a stop to it. Tears sneak from my eyes, and I bite back the sob building in my throat.
His grip on my hips tightens as he moves faster and faster until he sets a punishing pace, and by the grace of God, I somehow power through.
When he comes, his breaths are harsh. He doesn’t groan or make any other sounds, and I focus not to whimper when he pulls out.
Knowing it’s over, relief pours hot and fast through my body. I barely wait for him to go to the bathroom before I’m off the bed. Avoiding looking anywhere but at the armchair, I quickly put on the coat, grab my stilettos and handbag, and hightail it out of the room.
As I rush toward the lounge where people are enjoying drinks, the pain in my abdomen doesn’t lessen at all. By the time I’m out of the building, sweat dampens my hair beneath the wig.
I practically tackle the backseat as I get into the SUV, then order, “Go. No questions. Just go.” Alessio gives me a worried look, and I repeat, “No questions.”
During the ride to my fortress, I sit stunned while staring at my trembling hands.
God. That was awful.
Gianna was right.
My chin quivers, and feeling disappointed in myself, I pull my phone out of my handbag and go into Paradiso’s system to delete my profile and remove any trace that I was ever at the club.
By the time I get home, the cramps feel like a bad period, and I’m relieved when Alessio doesn’t say anything.
I head up to my apartment and go straight to the bathroom. When I take off the coat and lingerie, I see the blood coating my inner thighs, and worried it’s abnormal, I do a quick search on the internet while relieving my bladder.
It burns like fire, but Google says it’s normal in some cases.
Switching on the faucets in the shower, I wonder why it hurt so much to have sex. I thought I’d be okay because I’m used to a vibrator.
Once I’m done showering, I put on comfy clothes and grab one of my heating pads. Shoving it into the microwave to warm it up, I rest my palm against my abdomen.
Well, that sucked ass.
At least I’ve learned I’m not missing out on anything and will stick to my vibrator from now on.