16. Tito
16
TITO
I t's been two weeks now since the funeral. Aria isn't herself anymore. She's angry and reserved all the time, but not in the feisty way that shows her will to fight for her family and punish herself to make sure they're taken care of. This is a new expression of hers, something more sinister. I see the anger flash in her eyes at all times, even when she acts caring toward me. I think she blames herself for her brother's death and as a result, she's punishing herself, not allowing herself to find any sense of relief.
Which is the reason for today's dinner.
We're dining at 71Above, a restaurant seventy-one stories in the air with a breathtaking view of western LA. The gold and cream colors don't seem to fit Aria's mood, though she dressed appropriately for the venue. She looks stunning with her hair swept up into a braid, loose tendrils kissing her cheeks. But the hollow stare, like I’m looking into a void instead of her soul, is chilling.
"Try the sushi," I tell her, pointing at it with my knife. She does as I say, but she's quiet. She doesn’t say a word, so I fill up the space with conversation, hoping it will draw her out of her grief for a while. "You look absolutely stunning tonight, Aria. I really mean that."
Her eyes flick up at me over the rim of her glass of wine, and she blinks as she sips. The ring on her finger sparkles in the light from the golden chandeliers overhead, reminding me that she's mine. I take care of my things. I always have.
"And I spoke with your father earlier. He's so proud of you." I take a small bite of my steak and chew carefully, contemplating what else I can say to cheer her up. "Things are really looking up for Carlos, too. That advice you gave him was a game changer. His businesses are booming now."
Aria sets her wine glass down and uses her napkin to wipe her lips. "That's good," she says, the first thing she's said all night other than what food she wanted to eat when the waiter took our order. Her eyes scan the window, taking in the city lights. "It's beautiful from this far up."
I set my knife and fork down, suddenly no longer hungry anymore. She is what I'm interested in. "Not as beautiful as you are, mia cara ." I feel myself drawn to her. I want to hold her against my body and make the weight of what she's going through go away. Watching her grieve feels like it's changing me, like I've been seeing life through such a narrow, unfocused lens for so long that I forgot there was more.
"My father calls me that." She turns away from the window, and I see the moisture in her eyes.
"Is it alright that I call you that?" Something is developing in me, the tiniest ember of affection growing and being fanned to a flame.
"I guess." She lifts one shoulder and lets it drop, and I reach over to take her hand.
"If it's not okay…" I dip my head, looking up at her through my lashes, and she blinks slowly.
"It's fine." Her lips press into a line and she sucks in a deep breath. "I want to go. I feel so out of place here. Everyone is so happy and I'm just not." Her eyes plead with me to heed her request. "Thank you for spoiling me, for wanting to do anything you can to get my mind off things, but I'm more comfortable at home."
The guilt is crushing as she explains what she's feeling. I'm not pampering her out of guilt. A man like me doesn’t feel guilt, shame, or fear. So why the fuck do I feel so goddamn guilty that she is hurting? And why do I even fucking care at all? This was an arrangement, a means to an end. I'm not supposed to care. I'm supposed to make a baby with her and nothing more, but as her fingers turn in my grasp, wanting their freedom, I find myself caring way too much.
My lips part, almost letting my secret escape, but I hold it in. I didn't know the person responsible for that drug bust was her brother until after it was done. Tony followed my orders. If I had known, I'd have handled this differently. The Peralta organization would be all mine. But now I'm feeling something I've never felt in my entire fucking life—regret.
"Let's go, then," I tell her, standing up. I offer my hand to her, and she drops her napkin on her plate and stands, taking my hand.
I don't even bother with paying. These people know how to contact me. I escort Aria across the dining room, dropping a fifty in the waiter's pocket as we pass him. With my hand in the small of her back, I guide her to the elevator. If home is where she feels more comfortable, then home is where I want to be with her. Dad would say she's softening me, and perhaps she is. I'm a little rough around the edges, but it's not going to change my ruthless business tactics. She may just find a man she can love, and I know I need a woman who loves me.
"Maybe you could make me feel something again…" Aria says meekly, her voice so timid I don't believe I hear her right. She's asking for sex, but I hear the plea inside those words. It's a request for intimacy too, something connecting her to this world that's not grief or pain.
The elevator doors open, and I walk through with her, pressing the ground floor button as I turn to her and say, "I would love nothing more than to take my beautiful wife home and make her feel anything her heart desires." Both of my hands rest on her hips, and she curls into me, laying her head on my chest.
There is a storm in her eyes. She's conflicted now. This entire thing is a delicate dance. I'm falling for her, but I'm poised to ruin her father. I'm conflicted too. How do I gain the things I want in my professional endeavors while pursuing something so pure with her? And will she ever forgive me if she discovers that I'm the one who had her brother killed? What about when I destroy Hector Peralta and everything he's built for six decades? Will she still want me when he's out and I'm in charge?
"What are you thinking?" she asks, breathing into my chest.
"I'm thinking that something is happening between us and I like it." I pull her closer. It's not the slight erection I have from her being pressed against me. It's so much deeper. "I want to find out where it will lead because I like it."
I slide my hand over the curve of her ass and pull her in. It's a distraction, forcing her to feel my dick press into her thigh. I'm an idiot for telling a woman I'm catching feelings. Especially a woman like Aria. She's vocal and she's loud, and people listen to her. She's also the daughter of the man whose empire I'm strangling. There's no telling how nuclear this will be when it explodes.
Her hands rise, smoothing across my chest and neck, locking behind my head as they tangle in my hair. "I like this too," she murmurs, lifting a leg to wrap around mine. "And I need you to make me feel something so strongly I forget myself for a while."
She's desperate to not hurt anymore, and I'm happy enough to help her. She has asked me at least four times a week for this same thing. She's using sex as a means to numb her pain.
My hands on her ass inch the fabric of her flimsy dress upward until it's wadded in my hands and my palms are cupping her cheeks. Her lips brush mine, and I kiss her and bite her tongue. Her pelvis grinds on my thigh and she pulls my hair. I'm instantly hard and ready for her, even in this elevator.
"My God, you are intoxicating, Mrs. Ramiro," I growl into her mouth as she deepens the kiss. I knead her ass as I rock my hips against her body.
"I need you to take me to the brink," she whimpers and she grabs one of my hands and places it on her throat. "Please do it."
But the look in her eye isn't desperation for an orgasm. It's just desperation. She wants escape, but I can't give it to her this way.
I whip her around, pinning her against the wall, and let go of her neck. My hand gruffly pushes between her thighs and finds her panties moist. I slide them to the side and pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger.
"You're a bad little vixen today, aren't you?" My fingers twist and roll the swelling nub, and she hisses and jolts.
"Fuck, Tito." Aria's hands are on my shoulders, pushing me like she wants me to drop to my knees and finish her right here, but the elevator slows and stops and I let her dress drop to cover her panties.
Aria shimmies it into place and loops an arm around my bicep as we waltz out of the elevator. "You're so getting it as soon as we get in the car," I grumble under my breath, and I don't even bother hiding the large, hard bulge in my pants.
"You're so giving it to me," she says, and I reach into my pocket and shoot the driver a text. He meets us at the door and rushes to open for us.
"Sir," he says.
"Privacy, and drive," I growl, following Aria into the back seat. My coat is off before the door is even shut, and Aria is hiking her skirt back up around her hips.
I'm on my knees spreading her wide when the car starts to roll but immediately stops, sending me toppling backward into the divider behind me.
"What the hell!" I snap as my head slams into the window dividing the passenger compartment from the driver.
"What's going on?" Aria asks. She sits up and looks out the window just as the door is yanked open.
"The fuck…" I grunt as I right myself and see Carlos lean into the door.
"We got problems," he blurts out, and nothing could make me more furious.
"I was in the middle of something." I notice Aria fixing her skirt, covering that delicious moist spot on her panties I was about to drink up.
"Now, Tito. We have huge problems." Carlos looks impatient, and I see cars driving past behind him through the open doorway.
"What the fuck could be so important that you are interrupting sex with my wife?" I crawl onto the seat next to her, and she scoots over to give me space. Her cheeks are red. She's flustered.
"The FBI. They're serving a search warrant on the laundromat. Someone finked on us again, said we're laundering money." Carlos steps back, and I know he's right. I have no choice.
I lean over and kiss Aria, stealing her breath. "I have to go. You be awake when I get home, and stuff your panties in your pussy like a good girl."
Her whimper is enough to let me know I'm needed, and I leap out of the car with one thing in mind. I will find out who did this and I will kill them. Even if it's Hector Peralta himself. Even if Aria finds out.