Chapter 16
I'm standing in the doorway of the hotel suite where Sofia stays. She's looking up at me in a white satin robe that she's cleverly allowed to remain slightly open, enough for me to see her beautiful breasts. I think about how earlier I was licking every inch of them, and the rest of her.
She smiles. "So now what?"
"Now what is this," I say and caress her face. "You belong to me."
I smirk and look into her eyes. She bites her lip.
"When will I see you again?" she asks.
"Soon. Don't worry, I will always find my way back to you. Now," I say, leaning in to kiss her, "get some rest. Your body needs it."
She laughs and turns slightly red.
"Goodbye, Bella."
"Goodnight, Gabriel."
I turn and walk toward the elevator. As soon as I hear her close the door, I stop and lean against the wall, taking a moment to collect myself.
I rub my hands across my face and catch the faint scent of the hotel soap on my skin.
I smile as I'm reminded of the shower Sofia and I took after our little rendezvous in her bed.
I took it easy on her in the shower, but still taught her what it's like to be mine.
The memory fuels my possessive surge for her, and I know I'll have to figure things out, but for now, I won't bother worrying. Her taste is on my lips, and I won't waste time thinking about anything else.
I press the elevator button, and the door slides open. I get in, lost in thought the whole way down. I step out into the lobby, and a feeling of pride washes over me. I can't quite explain it, but I take it in and allow it to surge through me.
She is mine.
I find my car and start the engine. I exit the hotel and begin my ride home. As I drive through the city, my night with Sofia fills my thoughts. Flashes, like still images, overtake everything, and I grip the wheel firmly as I drive.
I think of the moment her dress fell to the floor, tasting her, sliding inside her—all of it.
I've never wanted to own a woman so badly, and now that I have her, I'm worried about what that will mean.
I'll burn Chicago to the fucking ground if anyone tries to claim her now—which leaves a very interesting future for what the hell I'm going to do about the whole Luca situation.
Whatever it is, I'll have to plan carefully, as it's uncharted territory.
I shake my head to remove the negative thoughts and think about the night's events over and over, forcing myself to focus on the good.
The city streetlights flicker across the windshield as I accelerate down the street. I remember after I finished and laid next to her how good she looked gasping for air, sweating, shaking—satisfied.
I pull up to the guard tower of my neighborhood and nod to the guard as I pass. He's seen me come and go at odd hours of the night, so he doesn't pay me any special attention.
I drive up and circle around my half-moon front driveway. I park my car and get out. As I always do, I scan my surroundings just to make sure. I don't think anyone would be waiting for me, but it's a habit I never tried to break.
I take the five marble steps that lead up to my front door with ease and unlock the door.
I walk past my billiard room, cigar and bar lounge, and turn down the hallway that leads to my office. I pull the chair out from my desk to take a seat and reach for my phone.
I enter Enzo's secure number and, given the hour, expect to leave a message. I should have done this sooner, but Sofia's body needed my attention.
"Hello," Enzo's voice says on the other side.
I'm shocked to find him up.
"I wasn't expecting you to answer," I say, sitting forward, going from relaxed to on guard.
"Gabe?"
"Yes."
There's a long sigh. "Too many moving parts. All this betraying shit hurts more than a squeeze from the damn FBI."
He was right about that. The families are all in open communication normally and working together at various times throughout the year, so when something like this happens—it feels more personal, like a betrayal from an actual family member.
However, it's too late to get into all that, so I focus on the reason I called.
"The last guy is taken care of," I say.
"Yeah, I spoke with Luca. All finished then?"
"Yes, except for the head."
He knew I was talking about the leader of the Russians, Ivan Morozkin.
"Yeah, fucking idiot. Him and all this shit," Enzo says, frustration and tiredness enveloping his words.
"It is all crazy," I say, because it is, and I don't know what else to add.
There's a moment of silence. It's as if he knows what I'm about to bring up.
"They will come now, with this last man in a box. It was Ivan's nephew, and—"
"Don't fucking say it, Gabe. You know the pain it's caused me. This is not how families conduct business. Why can't that damn fool just take what he had and run with it? He had a good thing. We were fair."
"I agree."
He lets out another audible sigh. "Retaliation is imminent. 10 am today, I'm having a sit-down with the Greeks and Polish. I want you to be there."
"Anything for the family."
"I've always been able to count on you, Gabe. Ever since you were a kid. You've done right by my grandfather and me. You know how much I love you."
It wasn't often Enzo would express these feelings. It was only during times of high stress as he'd call on me more. But the fact was that I owed the Bonventis my life.
I was raised in foster care with my sister, and when I turned 18, the state cut me loose.
Enzo wasn't a don when I first met him, but everyone knew he was a made man and, more importantly, everyone knew who his grandfather was.
Son of a bitch could kill a man in the middle of Wrigley Field and walk away without seeing a cell—that was the power Enzo's grandfather built into the Bonventi family.
Four months after my foster care halfway house exit, Enzo took me in, gave me jobs to provide for myself and my sister, allowed me to move up the ranks from low-level criminal to enforcer to what I am today.
When his grandfather died unexpectedly, followed by his father, Enzo was thrust into becoming don. On his first day, he came to me and asked me to help steer the ship and remove external threats preventing the family from growing. I delivered and became the most feared hitman around.
Of course, I don't think of that too much. I think of the progress. My rise from the ashes. I remember when 18-year-old me had five dollars to his name, but now my elbows rest on a custom $150,000 handmade desk imported from Florence. Money, cars, houses—the life every starving man dreams of.
Enzo gave me this life. The Bonventi family secured it. Anything he needs, I'm there, whether he shows love to me or not.
"I owe you everything, Enzo. You know—"
"Now don't go all sentimental on me," Enzo says as he interrupts me with a slight laugh. "I'd feel better if you drove me. Be here at 9:30, and we'll go to the meeting together."
"Sounds good. See you at 9:30."
Enzo ends the call and I lean back in my chair.
Too wound up to sleep.
I get up and sit in the chair next to my fireplace. With a button press, the fire erupts, and I instantly feel its heat.
I stare into the flames as my mind drifts back to Sofia and everything about her.
Suddenly, something stands out that I hadn't really thought about—a remark she asked off the cuff as we laid in bed after our shower.
"What's Enzo's plan for the Russians?"
"What do you mean?" I asked her.
"Luca mentioned some feud. When or what do you plan to do about it?"
"Ah, don't worry about such things, Bella," I told her to end it.
Luca does tend to not think and overshare, which is why I wasn't too surprised to see her in his car earlier at a hit. But he's not one to share for the sake of sharing - I wonder if she asked? She could have been the one to bring it up, but why?
Part of the reason I'm drawn to her is the very fact that I can't quite figure her out. There's a thin veil between her and me, and it's intriguing. She's not like most women in our circle.
Maybe she's just curious. I don't want to think about how long she's been a mobster's woman since my desires will turn from wanting to fuck her again to throwing a goddamn glass at the wall.
I have to be logical about things, and the first step is dealing with Luca. They say you should never yearn for another man's woman, but she's not his, she never was—she's mine, and if I had to bet, she always would have been had he not used his ranking to usurp me.
I feel my blood start to boil, and I close my hands into fists.
You need to be loyal to the family, I think to myself.
I do, and I am. He's not dead. Anyone else, and they'd be at the bottom of Lake Michigan. I need to find a way to balance my loyalty and desire. It's something I've never had to think about before.
I undress and lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I toss and turn, trying to shut my brain off, but I can't. I just keep thinking, You can't keep pushing your thoughts about how to handle Luca out of your mind forever.
I've tasted her.
She's submitted to me.
I need to protect what's mine.