8. Sergio
CHAPTER 8
SERGIO
I stare at Enrico’s pale face, a deep sigh shuddering through me.
He’s a kid, dammit. He should never have been dragged into the shit that we call real life.
Enrico ended up on my crew after I picked him up trying to steal food from one of our restaurants back in Sicily a few years ago. He was trying to take care of his family as the man of the house since his father died. But the guy was barely a man himself and he didn’t have two sticks to rub together for fire.
As soon as I figured out we were being robbed, I stood watch in the shadows to find the person who was responsible. I saw him show up night after night, taking whatever he could carry when he thought nobody was paying attention. I admired his will and his stealth, which never faltered, even in the face of starvation.
And when I finally confronted him, making bullshit death threats I knew I’d never carry out just to see how he’d react, he accepted his fate. He apologized for disrespecting me. He didn’t beg for his life or cry like a bitch. He just asked me to let him take food to his family one more time…the last time…so at least they could eat that night.
I knew right then and there that he was a guy I wanted to have on my crew. He wouldn’t crack under pressure, he’d stare adversity in the eye and do whatever it took to protect what was important.
He was a guy I could trust. I mean, as much as I can trust anyone.
I gave him a job on the spot and he hasn’t disappointed me once.
But I sure as hell failed him tonight.
He survived the bullet wound. Thankfully it wasn’t a kill shot. Doc was able to dig it out and stitch him up. I eye the IV funneling fluid into his body, my chest tightening.
That bullet could have punctured any number of organs as it ravaged his insides, all because I was dead-set on making a nonexistent deal.
Because I was greedy and looking for approval from the other families.
And because I wanted to build my own future, not have it assigned to me by anyone else.
I convinced the families to let me negotiate, figuring that cash is always king.
I was wrong.
Maybe not everyone can be bought after all.
Torres didn’t care about my offer. He has no intention of selling. He only wanted to get me in there, face to face, so he could tell me that the power I’m desperate to claim will never be mine.
He played his hand like the sneaky, cutthroat bastard he is, and I didn’t call his bluff in enough time to salvage my own.
My blood simmers as his smug smirk flashes in my mind.
Did he really think he could get away with that fucking stunt? That we’d scatter like cockroaches after the hit, running into the darkness without a look back? That we’d let him fucking live after unsuccessfully trying to kill us?
Not such a brilliant plan, Torres, especially when we could crush you without breaking a sweat.
He really needs to work on his messaging skills because they’re complete shit.
Maybe he didn’t realize who he was dealing with.
Neither did his sister.
Maybe it’s time they both found out.
I press my fingertips to my temples, the blood now rushing between my ears as I look down at Enrico sleeping peacefully.
This could have gone a very different way tonight, a much more deadly one.
And I always take care of my own. Enrico may not be blood, but he’s done enough for me that I consider him family.
And you always take care of family.
“What do you think it means?” Bruno asks me in a low voice as he walks up behind me.
“It means that I underestimated our target,” I grumble, sweeping a hand through my hair.
“And you’re sure the target is Torres, right?” Bruno asks.
I furrow my brow. “Who the fuck else would it be? And don’t say Becerra. I only cut off Javier’s hand. It’s not enough to warrant an all-out assault!”
Bruno nods. “True. Okay, so how do we fight back against Torres? Do we go and shoot up the club? Do we pop him?”
I shake my head. All of that is messy. Very fucking messy. “I don’t know enough about his inner circle. If we go after him, we might be taking on a much stronger enemy. There’s no way he’s working alone. There’s someone behind the scenes feeding him cash and Christ only knows what else, I’m convinced of it.” I pull my eyes off of Enrico and push Bruno out the door, closing it behind us. The least I can do is give the guy some peace. “There’s no way they just deal in pussy. On the surface, that’s the big draw, but there has to be plenty going on behind the scenes. Drugs, guns…they must be funneling money through there constantly. Did you see those cars in the VIP lot? They weren’t there just to get their cocks sucked. I mean, yeah, that’s their sideshow, but not the main event.”
I walk over to where Matteo is sitting at the kitchen island with Heaven leaning against him. Heaven gives new meaning to the words ‘badass bitch.’ Months back, after her father married her off to Matteo as part of a deal, she executed a rival boss. Then she broke ties with her father and subsequently, her brothers, when she found out that the old man sold her out to protect his own ass. Yeah, my sister-in-law is pretty damn fierce, although marriage has mellowed her.
A little bit.
She and Matteo started out hating each other, but they’re pretty gaga over one another now. I guess that means she’s my saving grace and the reason why he doesn’t lash out at me with the same amount of ferocity as he used to before he was so pussy-whipped.
And now they’re out here to strengthen ties with the other families in our recently formed syndicate, the one that’s gonna take over the gambling industry in the United States, city by city. Hotels, restaurants, casinos — it’s our fledgling empire. And with the manpower of our crew, along with the brutal Russian Severinov family and equally vicious Marcone family, also out of Sicily, we’re unstoppable.
At least, I thought we were before that damn meeting with Torres went sideways.
We got a lot more than we bargained for when we tried to finger that damn-near lethal pussy.
But I’m not settling for a portion of the crown. I want the whole goddamn thing.
“Sergio,” Heaven says, a warning tone in her voice. “You can’t go back after Torres. If what you said is true, and he’s working with one of the cartels to run drugs through his places, it’s no wonder he won’t sell. He’s got too much to lose, and the cartels won’t be happy if we take an axe to their pipelines. And it’s also very possible the guys who tried to take you out are his partners. Cartel scumbags who wanted to scare you. Maybe Becerra?”
I shift my weight, stepping down hard on my injured foot as a sharp tinge of pain shoots up my calf. Dammit. Just when I thought I was free from the memory of Jaelyn Torres, it all comes rushing back, sucking me into her funnel cloud of chaos. I take in a sharp breath, the seductive-slash-sinister glare on Jaelyn’s face flooding my mind. In the past few hours since we escaped that ambush, I tried to forget her, to forget the sensations swirling through me when she’d fire that death glare in my direction, to forget the disdain in her voice and in her gaze. She probably meant to freeze me out, but her efforts had the exact opposite effect. I can still feel the heat of her body singeing my palms as I gripped her bare flesh, the warmth of her breath against my face, the speed of her heartbeat pressed against my chest.
She didn’t try to push me away.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
In that moment, she declared war on us…on me .
And I’m ready to go to battle.
“It was definitely Torres who wanted to send the message, Heaven. Becerra wouldn’t try to partner with us and then finger Torres. Besides, I didn’t outright tell Becerra that we wouldn’t work with him. And I didn’t kill anyone. I just sent a message to let him know that if he wants to work with us, he’d better show up at the bargaining table and leave his asshole soldiers home,” I say, gritting my teeth, my skin prickling as visions of Jaelyn lying spread-eagle on my bed in her fuck-me heels flood my mind. Oh Jesus. How the hell did she end up there ? How am I not able to think about anything other than her gliding her fingers along her wet slit, moaning as she flicks her thumb against her clit? Enrico was almost killed tonight. I have more fucking important things to worry about right now!
But my body is on an entirely different page than my brain. My pulse throbs against my neck, my chest growing tighter by the second. “Someone fucked with my car to run us off that road. And Torres made the threat!” I grip the granite countertop tight, my knuckles turning white against the black stone.
“Sergio, you can’t just declare war because of a hunch. You don’t know for sure that it was Torres behind the hit!” Matteo walks over to me, his eyes narrowed. “That’s not how this works. We take it to the families and discuss how we will handle it as a group!”
My fingertips tingle, bright spots flashing in front of my eyes as white noise consumes the space between my ears.
Instead of focusing on the issue at hand, I’m back in the club, lost in her eyes…clear green ones taunting me, with sparks of fury glittering in the depths. I’m envisioning her deep red lips that twisted into the sexiest of scowls, clamped tight around my dick and those luscious tits bouncing hard as she rides me.
“Are you listening to me?” Matteo says, his voice muffled as if he’s speaking underwater.
My mind races in time with my rocketing pulse.
Risks, there are so many risks to this plan…
I can’t.
I won’t!
It isn’t fair to go into battle without consulting with the troops first.
Right?
Right!
I know the rules. I know how the game is played.
But something happened tonight.
Something I couldn’t control.
My breath catches as I see Jaelyn turn away from me with that one real smile, swinging her hips, that tight dress barely covering her ass as she walks back into the club, swallowed up by the lights.
What in the fuck ?
I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
“Serge!” Matteo barks, jolting me. There’s an expression of concern on her face. “Where the fuck did you go? It looks like you just blacked out there for a second.”
I blink fast, rubbing the back of my neck. What the hell is happening to me? Am I having a fucking stroke right now? Why can’t I stop seeing her? Feeling her? Smelling her?
Matteo’s voice fades away, my heart thumping faster and faster. I don’t know if it’s the rage coursing through me, the guilt over Enrico, or the frustration of not knowing for sure what move to make next, but my brain is spinning out of control like a goddamn top.
And I’m about to snap like an overstretched rubber band.
“Fine, we take it to the table,” I rasp, limping away from them. I slam the door to my bedroom, collapsing against the back of it, gulping in as much oxygen as my lungs can hold.
I don’t lose control!
I don’t let emotions command me, like my brothers Dante and Roman!
But even as those words thunder between my temples, I fumble with my belt, shove my pants to my knees, and grab my cock. Thanks to the salacious highlight reel that’s been looping through my mind for the last few minutes, it’s already stiff as steel against my palm. I lean my head back, squeezing my eyes shut as I imagine Jaelyn handcuffed to my bed.
Naked. Gagged.
Writhing as my tongue delves into her slit, plundering her soft folds.
I stroke my dick harder and faster, my chest heaving.
She’s the enemy…
A sexy and devious one, equal parts erotic and deadly.
My breath hitches as I feel her pussy tighten around my throbbing cock. So wet, so greedy as it pulls me deeper. Her legs lock around me, her hips thrusting against me as she digs her heels into the mattress.
I plunge deeper and deeper, sparks firing in my groin as my cock erupts with a vengeance, hot cum spurting out the tip, slipping down the sides of my shaft. I grip it tight, blinded by the sparks of light exploding behind my eyes. My labored pants eventually turn into shallow breaths, and it’s not long before my vision clears and the irritation of not knowing my next move dissipates into the thick fog around me.
Torres’s message begs for a response.
And I know exactly how I want to reply.