Chapter 2
Mario Luciano
Valentina Denaro is as much of a liar as her scheming, backstabbing father, with her sweet smiles and flirty eyes. As she climbs into the back of the SUV with the grace of a queen and the curves of a goddess, I lean against the corner of the building and will my cock to soften.
She grew up well. Shame rises in me, but I shove it down. Part of me wants to scold myself for lusting over her, but she’s no longer the cute little bouncy girl I once cherished as though she were my own daughter.
She’s no longer the niece I lovingly called paperotta as she followed me around like a little duckling.
That was a different life. I was a better man. She was innocent. Life was full of family and hope.
It was all lies.
The moment Pietro Denaro stabbed me in the back—literally and figuratively—and left me for dead, everything changed.
I will destroy him and everything he holds dear, including the daughter he infected with his evil ways. Her lies drove a wedge between us. It’s her fault I lost everything.
She deserves to suffer. She earned everything I’m going to do to her.
I meet the eyes of the buff woman sitting in the passenger seat as they drive past. She looks away and speaks over her shoulder to my prey.
I smirk and toss my cell phone up in the air before catching it and striding toward my car.
The next few days are sure to be delightfully entertaining.
Valentina Denaro is in my territory now. She’ll never make it back to San Francisco.
Her wedding to Romeo Yovanni will never happen.
She’s mine. Mine to hurt. Mine to punish. Mine to destroy.
I’ll enjoy every second.
I wedge myself behind the wheel of the rundown car I chose to drive today and check the location app on my phone before heading to the hotel the Denaro’s always stay at when they visit New York City.
You’d think the pompous asshole would take his head out of his ass and change venues for safety reasons, but he believes he’s above the need for obscuring his whereabouts. The conniving cunt of a weasel thinks tossing money around makes him strong.
In hindsight, Pietro Denaro was never a man worthy of my devotion. I should never have pledged my life to him.
He took that life and spilled it in a back alley in the slums of San Francisco all because his daughter lied to him.
I never touched her. She was too young. Too precious. Too innocent.
Not anymore. There’s nothing holding me back. I’ll enjoy enacting the most epic revenge story in history. Nothing will stop me from ruining Pietro by delivering the biggest mindfuck ever as I fuck the Denaro princess to within an ounce of her life.
I’ve waited a decade to annihilate the Denaro family. Three months more is nothing.
I’ll enjoy toying with her until then.
After scanning the employee badge I bought off the manager, I pull into the hotel parking deck and swing into the spot closest to the loading bay. I saunter down the cinderblock halls to the security room and watch on the screens as Valentina charms her way through the hotel.
Even with her hair much darker than I remember, she’s vibrant and beautiful.
And she knows it. She flaunts her feminine wiles everywhere she goes, winning over the bellhops with her gorgeous smile, disarming the women behind the counter with her fake friendliness, and wrapping every man in sight around her finger with her mouthwatering curves.
My cock pulses in my trousers.
I check my phone and smirk as my hotel informant texts me to notify me of her arrival. She’s in the suite beside her father, just like I requested.
With both my prey tucked into their rooms for the next few hours as they prepare for their evening plans, I spend a few minutes on my phone before stalking back to the parking garage.
A black SUV idles a few spots away from the loading dock. The moment I step out of the elevators, the passenger door opens and the muscular woman heads toward me. Her aggressive stride matches the barely leashed fury in her gaze.
“You’re right, boss. She’s a piece of work. All smiles and lies hiding behind a pretty face,” she sneers.
I accept the small gift box on her extended palm, pull the lid off, and scoff at the contents.
I don’t know which Denaro is worse, the father or the daughter.
The father plays with lives. The daughter plays with hearts.
Frivolous yet dripping with faux sincerity, the embellished hair ties add a personal note to the two gift cards—each one with an appalling amount of money to a high-end store, which has been carefully selected for the recipient’s hobbies—revealing Valentina’s strategy.
She wants to steal their loyalty by manipulating their emotions.
I hand the gift back to Donna.
“Spend every cent. I’ll cover any—”
“Don’t insult me, boss. I’m not in this for the money and cash is no longer an issue, thanks to you,” Donna snarls. “Eric and I owe you our lives. Watching the pampered princess is no skin off our backs. Whatever gets the job done.”
I nod.
“Keep me updated,” I say before turning and opening my car door.
“Of course,” Donna says as she retreats to the SUV.
We part ways without a backward glance. I have no reason to look behind me. There’s only one path for me now: burn the Denaro family to the ground and desecrate their ashes.
With a decade of fury brewing in my soul, I watch Valentina enjoy a fancy dinner with the man she thinks she’s going to marry. My anticipation grows as she bats her eyes and flirts with her target, the thought of destroying her plans a delight I can’t wait to savor.
Her dress hugs her curves while still being modest, but her innocent act doesn’t fool me.
She does nothing but lie, leaving a trail of blood and sin behind her.
When I catch Romeo Luciano, her betrothed, giving her an appreciative once-over when she turns to thank the female attendant, a surge of jealous rage heats my blood. I clench my fist around the hilt of my knife but don’t pull it from its sheath.
Romeo isn’t a horrible man. He can’t help that he fell into the Denaro’s current trap. In fact, both his business and personal affairs seem more straightforward and honest than most of the dealings made by mafia men.
I hate to make him an enemy, but revenge isn’t free, and I’ll happily pay any dues to achieve my goals.
When Valentina excuses herself and glides toward the restroom, I slip into the women’s powder room ahead of her and hide in the first nook, pulling the curtain closed enough to peek through while hiding my identity and flipping the sign to occupied.
She closes the door behind her and scans the area.
When she deems the room void of eyes, she slumps and rubs her nape.
Misery twists her doll-like features. She sighs and drags herself to the mirror.
Concern blips through me, but I squash it. After years of struggling to regain my health and a decade of hatred, I refuse to see the beloved child I once doted on. Valentina is now old enough to reap the consequences of her lies. She can’t hide behind her father anymore.
A toilet flushes. She straightens her spine and morphs her expression into a mask of kindness. After polite greetings with the stranger and checking her reflection, she disappears into a toilet stall for a few minutes.
Bitterness coats my tongue at how easily she deceives others. I consider slipping out and cornering her but decide against it. I’ll have more fun playing with her in public.
The rest of the evening passes without incident, but I catalog each of her seductive moves as transgressions, planning my retribution with growing fervor.
Instead of following her back to the hotel, I drive to the townhouse I bought several months ago and pull up the video feeds of the cameras I had housekeeping hide in both her and Pietro’s rooms.
I toss a freezer meal in the microwave, crack open an electrolyte drink, and take both into my office to study my prey.
As Valentina moves through the mundane tasks of bedtime, I note the droop of her shoulders and lack of finesse as she shuffles into the bathroom. I grind my teeth at the angle of the camera, but the suspense fills me with excitement.
I don’t need to spoil the surprise. I’ll enjoy claiming every inch of her body when the time is right.
Shock flows through me when she reenters the bedroom. My cock softens in disbelief. With her hair in two braids and a frilly monstrosity covering her from neck to ankles, she looks like a child from the frontier settlement era.
Is this some warped kink of hers? Does she want a daddy dom to treat her like a baby? Her outfit totally infantilizes her womanly curves.
I sneer and rise. Bile fills the back of my throat.
She won’t find whatever she’s looking for with me. I’ll have her naked and writhing underneath me in all her feminine glory as I wreck her inside and out.
I toss my empties into the trash and grab a water bottle from the fridge before returning to my chair.
Her countenance changes. She answers the door and becomes a bouncy, playful creature as her father steps into the room. My stomach sours. I lean closer to the monitor as she fawns over the man I once thought was my best friend.
One lie from her lips, and he stabbed me in the back and left me for dead.
Something in their interaction leaves me unsettled. The moment she closes the door behind him, she droops like a wilted flower and crawls into bed as though moving through tar.
When she drops onto the mattress and rolls onto her side, my heart gives an odd pinch. She looks like a lost little doll as she curls into a ball and wraps her fist around one of her braids.
I curse the lack of audio as she whispers to herself with the bedside lamp shining on her face.
Within minutes, she’s asleep.
I set several alerts for movement and leave the screens on as I head to the bedroom in the dark.
In a few weeks, Valentina will be in my bed, but for now, I soothe myself with the knowledge that she walked right into my trap.