Chapter 12
Mina
Nineteen years old
In the elevator ride up to the hotel suite, Jude’s anger continues to simmer just beneath the surface. I feel it in the rigid set of his jaw and in the sharp edge of his silence. Tension coils between us, thick and suffocating as the numbers creep higher. But if the car ride back to the hotel was any indication, he won’t say a word to me until we’re behind closed doors.
I’m fine with that.
I didn’t do anything wrong.
In fact, out of the two of us, I was the one who was on her game. I was the one who got the intel we needed.
Not him.
So, if he’s angry with me because of how I went about it, tough.
He can rant and rage all he wants. I know I did a good job tonight.
I have more than proven myself to be an asset and a leader, as I was the one who did the heavy lifting tonight.
If his ego is hurt because of it, that’s his problem. Not mine.
All these thoughts churn in my mind, fueling me for the fight I know Jude is itching to start.
The only problem is that Felix and the twins are already in the hotel suite waiting for us.
Jude doesn’t so much as spare them a second glance, preferring to stride straight to the liquor cart and pour himself a whiskey.
“Were you careful?” Felix asks, eyeing us both.
“We weren’t followed if that’s what you’re asking,” Jude replies once he’s downed a shot, trying to keep his fury in check.
“I hope you’re right, but just to be on the safe side, you two should stay the night. The twins and I will keep a watch downstairs to see if anyone shows up asking questions about you.”
“Great,” Jude counters sarcastically, downing yet another shot as if it were water.
“So?” Remus asks, walking toward me. “How did it go?”
“It went about as well as could be expected,” I lie. “Though I doubt my father will be happy with what we’ve learned tonight.”
“And what did you learn?” Felix cuts in, eyeing me intently.
“That we have bigger problems than just an overzealous drug lord spreading fentanyl through our streets like wildfire,” I begin to explain. “Anton Pavlin isn’t just a new player in town. He’s Bratva. ”
“No shit?” Rolo’s eyes widen in ecstasy as if the troubling news just made his day.
“It’s true.” Jude drags a hand through his hair. “Seems like the new Pakhan isn’t afraid to do business under our noses all the way from the motherland.”
“That’s… troubling,” Felix replies pensively. “The boss won’t be happy with this news.”
“No. He will not,” Jude grumbles, pouring himself yet another drink.
I’m surprised he’s still standing with the amount of booze he had tonight, but from the looks of it, Jude has no intention of stopping anytime soon.
“You got to admit, the guy’s got a set of balls on him to think he could pull this off.” Rolo lets out a low whistle, still looking way too excited for my liking.
Why is my cousin so happy?
Does he not realize what this means? We now have proof that the new Pakhan shattered the peace treaty my father and his predecessor spent a decade upholding.
Petrov giving the green light to Pavlin to push his poison onto our streets isn’t just a slight—it’s a declaration of war.
And war with the Bratva? That’s nothing to celebrate.
But then again, Rolo never needed much of an excuse to fight. The idea of a full-fledged war with the Russian syndicate is probably right up his alley.
“That’s not all we got,” I say, striding over to Jude and holding out my hand. “Phone,” I state evenly, sprinkling my demand with a saccharine smile.
Jude’s nostrils flare, but he says nothing as he gently slaps his phone into my palm.
“We also managed to sneak into Pavlin’s office. This is what we found,” I report, showing Felix and Remus the pictures Jude took of Pavlin’s little black book.
“This is good,” Felix says approvingly after taking inventory of our findings. “We can definitely work with this.”
“Well done, cousin. You really pulled it off,” Remus adds, giving me a side hug.
Pride swells in my chest at the small victory, grateful for Remus and Felix to recognize the lengths I went to obtain this much-needed intel and appreciate me for it.
Unlike Jude, who is still silently observing me from across the room with an accusing frown plastered all over his face.
They leave an hour later, so I step into the adjoining room, half-expecting Jude to stay in his and leave me be for the rest of the night.
I’m struggling to unzip my dress at my side when the door swings open with a bang.
“What the fuck was that?” Jude demands, storming toward me.
“Whatever do you mean?” I feign innocence just to annoy him further since I already know where this conversation is going.
He grabs my shoulders, turns me around to face him head-on, and gives them a little shake. “Don’t play with me, Mina. Now is not the time for your games.”
“I’m not playing.” I scoff, pulling away from his grip to continue yanking at the stubborn zipper. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about! I’m talking about that little stunt you pulled back at Pavlin’s office.”
“You mean me saving our asses? Is that what’s got you so worked up? How about a simple ‘you’re welcome’ instead of whatever alpha ego trip you’re on right now.”
“Will you just stop with the one-woman act already and be serious for a moment? You and I know we could’ve found another way to get out of there.” His voice is a low growl. “You didn’t have to—”
“Didn’t have to what? Pretend I was about to blow you? Why are you so upset about how I handled the situation when my way worked just fine?” I let out a relieved exhale, finally managing to get the zipper unstuck and the dress loose. “Or are you mad because you think it didn’t look believable enough?”
His jaw tightens. “Oh, it looked believable,” he utters, his voice laced with something dangerous. “Too goddamn much.”
His eyes burn at me as if they could set the whole damn room on fire.
“Mind telling me where you learned that little trick?” He steps closer, his tone dark and edged with malice. “I want a name, Mina. Who the fuck taught you that shit?”
A slow, mocking smile tugs at my lips as I lock my unflinching gaze with his. “You think you’re the only man in my life? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”
“Answer the fucking question, Mina! Who the fuck did you go on your knees for?!” he shouts, grabbing my shoulders again. “Was it Felix? Did you fuck him?!”
The sharp crack of my palm against his cheek rings out before I even register what I’ve done.
“No one taught me!” I snap, jerking myself free from his grip. “No one, you jealous idiot! I’ve never…” But the rest of my words catch in my throat, refusing to come out. For all my newfound experience in the world of mafia dealings, when it comes to sex, I’m still a complete novice, thanks to him.
But by the way Jude is looking at me right now—like he’s about to devour me whole—I’m not sure he intends to leave me clueless for long.
“Are you lying to me?” he says with a little less heat behind his words, though his gaze still holds the same burning fire in his eyes.
“What does it matter to you anyway?” I retort, my shoulders slumping slightly. It saddens me that he’d ever think I’d give myself so easily to someone I didn’t love. That I would offer up my body and soul to someone that wasn’t him.
“It matters, Mina. It fucking matters!” he continues to rant, his rage reviving mine.
“Why? Why does it matter?” I shout back in frustration, but my anger quickly dissipates when his gaze drifts down to my lips. “Why?” I say a little lower now, my chest heaving with the smoldering look he’s giving me.
“You know why,” he says softly, the admission sucking out all the anger that had been fueling him until this point.
“No, I don’t. Because you don’t talk to me. Instead, you run and avoid me. You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing this past year? Running from me? Afraid to be alone in the same room as me in case I try to kiss you again? A kiss that you reciprocated, by the way. So tell me, how am I supposed to understand what you mean when you keep sending me all these mixed signals?”
“Maybe this will clear things up for you.” With that, whatever restraint he was still clinging onto is shattered in tattered confetti as his hand wraps around my throat, crashing his lips on mine in an electrifying instant.
He tastes like smooth, smoky whiskey, each sip rich and intoxicating, leaving a warm burn that starts igniting all my senses.
I get drunk on just one kiss, addicted to the way his tongue overpowers mine.
When my knees threaten to buckle, Jude grabs me by my hips and plants my ass on a nearby dresser, hiking up my dress with one hand while his other remains bound to my throat.
“Jude,” I whimper, my legs entwining around his waist as I pull him closer, my arms draping over his shoulders, craving the heat of his body against mine.
“Fuck, you smell good,” he moans, pulling his lips away from mine to kiss the curve of my neck.
I’ve only had a sip of champagne all night, yet coherent thought slips away from me, my mind swirling and hazy under the intoxicating spell of his touch and kiss.
“Jude,” I beg, needing something—anything—to put out this all-consuming fire burning inside me.
His hand slithers in between my thighs, my eyes rolling to the back of their sockets when I feel his knuckles lightly graze over my pussy.
“Ahh,” I whine, tightening my hold around his shoulders to keep me tethered to the moment. “Please,” I whisper in his ear, my teeth finding his lobe to nibble on.
“You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you?” he grunts before tugging down my dress with his teeth just low enough for his mouth to find my clavicle, peppering it with kisses while rubbing his knuckles up and down my folds simultaneously.
“I know I want you. I know that I’ve always wanted you.”
“Fuck, Mina. You can’t say shit like that to me,” he growls before lowering my dress a little further, his tongue and teeth nibbling on the tender swell above my breasts.
“Why not? Why is it so bad for us to ask for what we want when we want it?”
“Because,” he groans, “neither one of us should want this. In fact, we shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t do this,” he says, breathing heavily through his nose. However, his mouth doesn’t move away from my tender flesh, pressing kiss after kiss, using his tongue to memorize my taste.
“But I want to, and I refuse to pretend otherwise.” I declare with unwavering conviction, inching closer. I use my ankles to pull him against me, closing whatever distance remains between us. “I’m done pretending. Aren’t you tired of pretending, too?”
“Fucking exhausted,” he admits, my heart doing backflips in my chest.
“So why continue to torture ourselves when we could just give in to what we both want?”
“Ah, love. If you don’t think this is an even worse kind of torture, then we’re not feeling the same thing,” he mutters, lifting his gaze to meet mine, his eyes burning with a mix of longing and frustration.
“It doesn’t have to be. You can make the pain go away,” I cajole, running the pad of my thumb over his full lower lip. “Just keep touching me.” Eyes now shut, he takes a small bite out of it and moans.
“Touch you where? Where do you want me to touch you, Mina? Tell me.”
“Where no one has ever dared to,” I say breathlessly, my body aching for his touch.
“No one?” he rasps, opening his eyelids.
“No one.” I shake my head, biting my bottom lip when the gold flecks in his eyes begin to sparkle with want and desire.
“Does that mean no one has touched you here before?” he counters, slipping my panties to the side and running his deft fingers through my soaked slit.
“No,” I answer truthfully, amazed that such a simple act could provoke such an earth-shattering sensation.
“What about here?” he continues, lowering his mouth just enough so I can feel his warm breath fan over my perked nipple. “Has anyone touched you here?”
I shake my head, unable to utter a word as his lips curve around my nipple, sucking at it through the fabric.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, his teeth tugging my dress down lower, sending shivers down my spine.
“Anything,” I pant, tilting my head back, lost in the way his fingers continue to work their magic on me.
“I hate this godforsaken dress. Did you pack anything to wear tomorrow?”
“I did. Why?” Confusion flickers across my mind at the out-of-leftfield question, but it doesn’t last long.
In an instant, Jude slides his hand away from inside my thighs and releases my neck, his intentions clear. With a swift motion, he tears my dress from my body, the fabric ripping away like paper. Once it’s nothing but a rag, he flings it over his shoulder, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.
“Much better.”
Save for my panties and gold pendant, I’m completely naked. Jude’s penetrating gaze focuses on my necklace first before scanning every inch of me, licking his lips lusciously.
“You’re fucking exquisite. Do you know that, love? Do you have an idea how beautiful you look right now?” His words wash over me, and I melt into a puddle, the endearment hitting me harder than the praise itself. “Have you ever come before, Mina? Has anyone ever made you come?” Again, I shake my head. “Fuck. You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me,” I say, finally finding my voice. “Show me.”
His lips find mine again while his thumb presses on my clit, before drawing circles in a way that has me gasping for air. His other hand begins to needle my perked nipple, toying with it before moving to its counterpart. My hands drift to the buttons of his shirt, deftly plucking open one after another so that I can feel the heat of his skin sear against my palm. He winces at my light touch, and the pads of his fingers intensify their circular movement on my clit, making me curl my toes.
He then surprises me by breaking our kiss so he can spit onto his fingers before directing them back into my pussy.
“Tell me if this gets to be too much for you,” he forewarns, using his saliva to lubricate my clit with two fingers, sending shockwaves all over my body.
“Oh, my God!” I cry out, my body trembling as I lean forward, pressing my forehead against his shoulder.
“That feels good?” he murmurs, his voice rough, raw—perfect.
“So good. Don’t stop,” I plead, surrendering to the sensation and letting myself feel everything.
He continues to drive me mad with his forbidden touch, and when I think I’m close to the brink, he pulls away, causing me to whimper out in agony.
He was right.
This type of torture is excruciating.
“Lean back,” he commands before unlatching my legs from around his waist and placing my feet on the edge of the dresser, my thighs spread wide.
Like this, I’m completely exposed to him. And from the way Jude is staring at my pussy like a famished man, this was exactly his intention.
“Grab my hair and don’t let go,” he orders, going to his haunches and placing his head in between my thighs.
“What?”
But before he has time to explain what’s about to happen, I feel the flat part of his tongue swipe at my core, causing my head to loll back and hit the wall. The sting to the back of my head is a small price to pay in comparison, though. Especially when Jude’s mouth starts to devour my pussy as if it were his last meal, making my thighs quake and tremble with the intensity of it all. I forget to breathe when he curses under his breath, telling me how good my cunt tastes on his tongue. My chest heaves up and down, my breasts feeling heavy to the touch. With one hand grasping at the strands of his hair, I use the other to play with my left breast, trying to mimic the way his fingers had played with my sensitive nipple minutes before.
It’s all too much and not nearly enough.
Jude inserts two digits inside me, curving them slightly while lapping at my clit, making me explode from within. I let out a loud whimper, biting down on my knuckles to keep my cries muffled as the out-of-body experience takes hold of me and settles into my limbs and bones.
With my eyelids still at half-mast, I watch with ragged breath as Jude stands up, realizing only now that his cock has been in his hand this whole time.
Jude strokes at its girth like he’s punishing it while aiming it at my naked body, his gaze focused solely on my post-orgasmic face.
“Fuck,” he curses as white streams of cum jet out and land on my belly.
Curiosity gets the best of me, so I flick my finger over it, his jaw clenching when I suck his essence into my mouth.
I lean forward, needing him to kiss me, when Jude steps back.
His eyes dim as he takes me in, my skin flushed and red, save for the proof of his desire crawling down my stomach.
“This,” he starts, his voice strained as he rakes a hand through his hair, stepping back again. “This can’t happen again. This… you… me… it’s not possible. I’m sorry.”
I stare at him in confusion, still reeling from how he tilted my world on its axis.
“What are you talking about?” I ask with a shy smile, my lust-filled brain taking a hot minute before it can understand what he’s on about.
“I can’t, Mina. Fuck. I just fucking can’t,” he belts out, misery and suffering etched in his voice. “Please don’t ask me to. I… just can’t.”
And with that, he spins on his heel and walks out of my room and back to his.
My legs feel like jelly as I pull myself off the dresser to watch him leave, looking like his world has just come to a definitive end.
I stand there, stunned in silence, staring at the emptiness around me, grasping at anything—any clue—to make sense of what just happened.
How could he touch me like that and then act as if it didn’t affect him at all? Act like I’m the villain who corrupted him by laying a hand on me.
Looking for answers, I grab the robe laid out on the bed, fasten it around me, and rush into his room. Once inside, I find Jude sitting on the bed with his shirt still unbuttoned and his head bowed as if the world’s weight were pressing down on his shoulders.
“I’m tired of this game, Jude. You want me, just like I want you. Why do you insist on pushing me away?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he replies, unable to meet my gaze.
“Well, too bad. You already have.” I step closer, lifting his chin so our eyes lock. His gaze instantly drinks me in, hunger flashing across his face.
He closes his eyes and grunts, “Go back to your room, Mina.”
“Is that another order?” I challenge. “Or do you save those just for the bedroom?”
Instead of answering me, he pulls away, grabs his jacket, and storms out of the room, leaving me alone to pick up the pieces of my broken heart.
I wait all night for him to return, but he doesn’t. Apparently, being in the same room with me is clearly too much of a temptation for him to resist.
Fine.
If that’s how he wants to play this, then that’s how he’ll have it.
Jude acting hot one minute and cold the next is giving me whiplash.
I’m tired of chasing after him. If he wants me, he knows where to find me.
And if he doesn’t? Then so be it.
If Jude Adamo Romano insists on pretending I mean nothing to him, then he means even less to me.
I am Mina-fucking-Crane, the rightful heir to the Crane Firm.
Who needs an Outfit prince to love her when my fate was always to be a queen anyway?