17. Roman
CHAPTER 17
ROMAN
“D on’t make the mistake of cutting off ties with your father,” I say. “I’ve learned the hard way that people have reasons for doing things. They may be good reasons, may be bad ones. But before you decide to turn your back on him forever, you should listen to his.”
God only knows, my own father could have shut me out plenty of times but didn’t.
Family needs to stick together, no matter how bad things get.
And even though he caused my own family a hell of a lot of headaches and is a piece of garbage, he’s still her father. He’s still her blood.
She furrows her brow. “Why should I listen now when he had plenty of opportunities to tell me his reasons before? I mean, he spent my whole life doing things ‘his way’, and he never gave a damn about what I thought before. If he cared about me, he’d have tried to talk to me when he wasn’t behind bulletproof Plexiglas,” she huffs, folding her arms over her chest. Bright pink spots appear in her cheeks and I know she’s angry.
I also know she’d never forgive herself if she knew the truth and didn’t do anything to fix the splintered relationship. This girl, the one I’ve gotten to know pretty well over the past couple of days, is so good at seeing things in others, but she really can’t see past her own nose.
“Look, all I’m saying is that there might be more to it than the story you know. Trust me, I spent a long damn time being pissed off about the way my brother Matteo handled things that involved me before I realized that he was doing them for the good of the family and the organization.” I push back my hair. “Hell, I still get pissed off,” I grumble. “But sometimes that’s what you need to spark the conversation, you know? I’d do anything for my brothers, even though I’d like to kick the shit outta them more often than not. Family fights. It’s the way things go. You get knocked down and then you jump back up only to get kicked in the teeth again.”
Chella lifts an eyebrow. “I think you have somewhat of a different dynamic with your family than I do with mine.”
“The point is, you don’t ever want to be in a place where you can’t make things right.”
“You don’t know the whole?—”
I shake my head. “I don’t give a shit about the whole story. I only give a shit about you .”
Oh, Christ. I said that?
Her eyes pop open wide, more blue than I’ve ever seen them, glittering like diamonds. “You…um, me ?”
I give her a long, hard look, my gaze tracing over the perfect arch of her eyebrows, the dark lashes framing her eyes, the perfect pink lips that taste like fucking heaven.
Yeah, I mean her.
I reach toward her, my thumb and forefinger stroking the side of her smooth cheek. Her skin is bright pink, the color deepening as the intensity of my stare increases. “Something happened that I didn’t expect,” I croak. “A lot of things, actually, but this whole thing…with you…and me…” I reach my hand around the back of her head, pulling her toward me. “I don’t know what this is, Chella,” I whisper. “Or what to call it. But I know how I feel when you’re near me. I know how I feel when you look at me, when you see into my soul. I’d cut anyone who came too close to seeing right through me because it’s a dangerous fucking thing to be exposed like that. But when you do it…” I shake my head. “I feel hopeful. Relieved that you don’t see the same monster that everyone else does. Because you’re right. I’m not that guy.”
She smiles at me, lacing her fingers with mine. “I know that.”
I nod. “I’ve never been able to show anyone who I really am. That shit can get you killed.”
“So you’re not threatened by me?” she asks in a coy voice.
“Not threatened,” I murmur. “Just in awe of you and what you’ve done to me.”
“I feel the same way. And I know that’s insane because of the situation.” She looks away for a split second. “I have to tell you something, too.”
“Yeah…”
“Before we slept together…” Chella clears her throat. “I, ah, I’d thought about seducing you, so that maybe you’d be more agreeable and let me check on Frankie.”
“I didn’t let you call him, though.”
“I still slept with you, though.”
I snake my arm tighter around her. “And did you have an ulterior motive last night when we were sitting in a puddle of egg yolks?”
“No. I just…I wanted to be close to you. I wanted to be with you.” So open. So honest. So fucking perfect.
Our foreheads touch, our lips practically grazing each other.
“I wanted that, too.”
“I think I might be losing my mind. Is it absolutely crazy to be falling for your kidnapper?” Chella whispers.
My lips curl into a grin. “When your kidnapper is hung like an ox? Nah. I think it’s perfectly normal.”
She giggles and gives my arm a swat. “You’re a real dick.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that plenty.” I capture her hand and bring it to my lips. “I’m falling for you, too, Chella. And it scares the shit out of me.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
But…she really doesn’t.
And since I can’t explain the reasons why, I do the next best thing and smother her mouth with the deep-seated passion that’s been rippling through me since she barreled into my life.
I grasp the sides of her face, plunging my tongue into her eager mouth. She lets out a low moan as our tongues tangle together, the coiling heat blasting through my insides. Bella, thankfully, senses she’s about to get edged out and she jumps to the other side of the couch.
She’s damn perceptive for a puppy.
I lean Chella backward against the cushion, straddling her as I lift the t-shirt over her head. I bury my head in her neck, teasing the sensitive area behind her ear with my tongue. Her body arches, her lush tits pressed against my chest.
“Roman,” she murmurs, her eyes fluttering open.
My lips curl upward as I wrap my arms around her, holding her close enough to feel her heartbeat hammering against me. My cock jumps as she slides my shorts to my ankles, freeing me from the fabric. With trembling fingers, I do the same to her, pulling off the shorts I’d given her before breakfast. I slide my hands down the sides of her slim torso, her skin pebbled with goosebumps as I run the pads of my fingers over her curves. The head of my dick is swollen, aching, and ready to explode into her. I dip my head lower, capturing her lips with my tongue and teeth as I press into her slick opening. Her wet heat blankets me, her body drawing me farther inside of her. I thrust into her with long, slow strokes, the kind that made her body quiver and quake last night and earlier this morning.
I know what she likes.
I know what she needs.
I slide in and out, dragging the top of my shaft against her clit with every push and pull. Her legs tighten around me as I drive deeper. She meets every one of my thrusts, rotating her hips against mine and making my balls ache for release.
Her nails dig into my back, lancing the flesh as I fuck her sweet pussy. She screams out, clawing and pinching and wailing as I hit her spot, over and over and over until her body tenses up, her quivering lips clamping around my dick as tremors rocket through her.
And only a few thrusts later, I finally let the explosion erupt. I clench my teeth, roaring as the orgasm tears through me, practically splitting me in two with its force.
I have nothing left.
And yet, I have it all.
I collapse on top of Chella, letting my head fall onto her shoulder. She runs her hands through my hair and I shiver at her touch. “Your fingers feel a lot nicer now than they did a few minutes ago. You were like fucking Freddy Krueger with those nails slicing and dicing my back.”
“Sorry not sorry,” she whispers. “Besides, I thought you liked it rough?”
“Did I ever tell you that?”
“Well, after last night and this morning, I just kind of assumed…”
I chuckle. “I think you like it the same way.”
Her eyes glimmer in the overhead light. “Only with you,” she says softly.
I trace the outline of her lips with my forefinger before covering them with my own. It’s like a magnet to steel — the pull is too strong and I have no desire to escape.
I open her lips with my tongue, my pulse throbbing against my neck as my cock jerks.
Jesus, just kissing her has me hard again.
This hunger, this ache…only she can satisfy it.
And that’s when the nagging reminder about my terse call with Matteo flashes across my mind.
Bad fucking timing.
My brother’s angry face is enough to make my dick go limp in a hot second, and there go my plans for round four. I pull slightly away, expelling a sharp breath.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. “I just lost you.”
“No, it’s nothing, I just… ahh !” I jump as something cold and wet assaults the bottom of my foot.
Chella giggles because she can see that it’s Bella attacking my foot like it’s a piece of filet mignon. “Aww, she loves you. Dogs kiss you like that to show affection.”
I wiggle my toes, not that it stops her. It’s cute, albeit a little gross. I give up when it only seems to egg her on. It’s hard not to smile at her bouncing on the opposite end of the couch like a happy puppy who’s finally found her place. A quick look at Chella confirms that she’s thinking the same thing. The sadness in her expression makes my throat tight. “Hey,” I murmur, tilting her chin toward me. “I was thinking. Why don’t we just keep her for a little longer? A few more days? We can still bring her back, but I, ah, I think you need this right now. And…I don’t know. Maybe I do, too.”
Chella’s brow furrows. “But think of her real family and what she’s missing.”
“You don’t know the circumstances,” I say. “Look at her. She’s happy.” Something deep inside of me is connected to this dog. I can’t explain it since I’ve never even had one before, but when she came and tried to comfort me when I had that fucking meltdown, I just knew she was supposed to be here for that.
She has to stay.
I need to hang on to this feeling of being whole for as long as I can because my next moves are definitely going to blow my world to bits, leaving me empty and shattered beyond repair.
Sure, I’ll still have my work, but over the past couple of days, I’ve come to realize that it’s not enough. Respect and loyalty is what I want…but I want it from the one person who is currently under me.
Literally.
I desperately want what I can’t have.
So I’m trying to hang onto it for as long as I can.
“I’d be so sad if she was my dog?—”
“Chell,” I say. “In a couple of days, we’ll take her to the police station. I promise. I just…I think she needs to stay with us right now.”
“That doesn’t sound like something a badass mafia thug would say.”
I shrug. “You keep telling me I’m not that guy.”
“You aren’t,” she says. “Are you finally accepting it?”
I flash a small smile. It doesn’t really matter whether or not I accept it.
What matters is that I can never embrace it.
Chella bites down on her lower lip. “Okay, a few more days.” Her expression darkens. “It might be over by then, anyway…”
Yeah. If Matteo has anything to say, it definitely will.
Fuck!
“I’m going to take care of everything,” I croak. “I promise I’ll figure this out and make sure Frankie stays out of danger.”
“Is that what you were talking to your brother about?”
“Yes,” I lie. “I told him I have Frankie getting our drugs back and he was good with that.”
A hopeful smile lifts her lips and she hugs me tighter, making me feel like a bigger piece of shit than I already know I am for lying to her.
There’s that goddamn conflict again, tugging so hard around my neck I can barely breathe.
“Thank you,” she says, her lips nuzzling my ear. “I know he’ll take care of it for you. He’d never do anything to hurt me.”
My gut twists at that.
If only she knew the truth.
“Hey, did Dante say where he was going?” If I’m going to fix this my way instead of Matteo’s way, I’m going to need help.
“He said something about going for a run.” Chella grins. “We should probably take this behind closed doors, just in case he comes back early.”
I force a smile, rolling off the couch and pulling on my shorts. “Oh hey, we need to find you a dress for that event tonight.”
Her eyes immediately brighten and she sits up. “I’d love that. But… do you think I can call Frankie? Please, just let me make sure he’s okay.”
I grind my teeth together but give a swift nod. Let her talk to him now. Who the fuck knows how much longer he has to speak before someone yanks that tongue out of his double-crossing, lying fucking mouth? I reach onto the coffee table and hand her my phone, walking into the kitchen while she dials.
A minute passes and she lets out an impatient huff before speaking into the phone.
“Frankie, it’s me. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’m fine, so don’t worry about me.” She pauses for a second before speaking again. “Just please do what he needs, Frankie. Help him fix things and get him his stuff back so that nobody else gets hurt. Please. I…I love you.”
I can hear the sigh of frustration as she stabs the End button.
She joins me in the kitchen and hands me my phone. Panic settles into her features as she raises her gaze toward me. “No answer,” she mumbles, nibbling on her thumbnail.
“It’s, ah, kinda early,” I offer. “Maybe he’s still passed out?”
“Maybe,” she says, bending down to ruffle Bella’s fur.
I sink down next to her and place my hands on her shoulders. “Hey, don’t worry. I told you I’d handle it, didn’t I?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“So, you have to trust me.”
Those words don’t taste fabulous on my lips, I’ll tell ya that.
“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I do.”
The ache in my chest is tearing me apart right now, but this is the only way I can fix things.
And Frankie is the problem, not the solution.
“So go get dressed. I left a sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants on the bed in your room. Once we’re out, I’ll get you something that actually fits.”
Chella snickers and runs into her room to change. She turns to peek over her shoulder before disappearing down the hallway, flashing a teasing grin at me. “Wait, so you’re letting me go to a place where you know I’m about to strip down and you’re not going to follow me?”
I hold up my phone. “I’ve got fires to fight. And I don’t mind tearing off your clothes. Makes the prize even more worth the effort.”
Her giggles travel down the hallway with her, and once I hear the door close, I dial Bobby’s number, hissing into the phone as soon as he answers.
“Listen, I need you to find Frankie Amante for me as soon as possible.”
“Sure, boss. What do you want me to do with him once I find him?”
“Bring him to the place where we took care of Salvatore. I wanna talk to him.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.”
“And whatever you do, leave Ray out of it. He knows nothing, you got that? Don’t tell anyone where you’re going or why.”
“Yeah. No problem, boss.”
I end the call and quickly get myself together. Then I pop a few Advil because the throbbing between my temples makes me want to collapse on the couch and smother my face with a pillow.
I need a fucking plan!
I am exposed, like an open wound, and if I don’t figure out a way to plug it, I’m gonna bleed out.
Literally and figuratively.
I sink onto the couch, fisting my hair.
Frankie won’t stop unless someone cuts him off at the knees. He’s brought a cash cow to the Volkovs in Brooklyn, and now that they know they have an in to keep milking it, they will drain us of everything, just like Matteo said they would.
I don’t have a lot of time to fix this. The Volkovs aren’t the type to sit back on their asses and wait for a windfall. They’re the types to make the windfall happen in the first place.
They’ll use Frankie to get inside again since he knows too fucking much about our operations.
And then they’ll kill the whole Amante family because that’s just the kind of vengeful fuckers they are.
Returning what he stole isn’t enough to keep Frankie alive.
Matteo thinks that killing Frankie will solve our problem and show strength.
I hate to admit it…but he’s right.