Sophie 13.
“You will return to Florida with Diaz in two days. It isn’t safe here for you and I’ve asked him to watch over you for a while longer while we sort through the fallout from Teuling.”
“Uh huh. But the others…everyone else is safe here…just not me?”
Moshe looked up at the ceiling and sighed, then his eyes darted over my left shoulder, a sure sign my dear cousin is lying. “Yes.” I snorted and shook my head but agreed.
Men are dumb.
I look around my suite, making sure I haven’t missed anything I’ll need. Boxes are stacked by the door, and my travel bag is on top of one of the stacks. Tovah is handling the shipping after we leave.
I’m not going back to Florida because of my safety, I’m going because Desidario Diaz has had a come to Moses moment.
I’m not sure what transpired from the moment I left him in the hallway after the best and most disappointing sex of my life, but something changed his mind.
He was frustrated when I was civil but indifferent and we didn’t see each other much after we arrived in North Carolina.
Until the dance. He shocked the hell out of me when he asked me to dance with him.
What’s more, when he confessed he missed me, I half-expected a geriatric Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me I was being punked.
I walked away from him, which was damn difficult to do, because I didn’t know what to do with that admission.
The reenactment helped put things into perspective though. If Moshe ever decides to branch out from organized crime, his acting chops are far superior to Ernie’s.
Now three days later, he is always around.
Joining me and my family for meals, hanging out in the entertainment room.
He asked me for a tour of The Burning Bush to compare our operation with that of his current supplier.
He asked pointed questions and told me more than once how impressed he was with not just The Burning Bush itself, but my role in its success.
I preened, just for a moment, but it was enough to confirm how important his opinion is to me.
And to see him with my family…he’s relaxed in a way that he isn’t even with his own family. Perhaps the distance, or that he isn’t here in an official capacity, has loosened some of the tension that steadily winds him tighter with each weighted breath.
And he keeps touching me! My hand, the small of my back, sitting so close our thighs rest against each other. He’ll lean down and breathe next to my ear right before whispering something to me. And it isn’t even a secret! He’s playing dirty but he’s wasting his time.
I already know how he feels, his intentions, what I’m not sure about is why.
Why the sudden change? I don’t lack confidence.
I know I’m a catch, but I’m honest enough with myself to know my pussy ain’t any more spectacular than anyone else’s.
So, it was the sex…or at least not just the sex that changed his mind.
I don’t lie. I had no intention of playing games or forcing him to be someone he wasn’t, and I wasn’t holding his proclivities against him.
If he was happy in life, who am I to argue?
I know myself; I know what I’m capable of and what my limits are and I laid it out plainly for him.
He fucked me good in that hallway, a glimpse of the searing passion between us, but then he fell back into what I assume was an old refrain.
Mafia men can’t have wives and children and liabilities…
Again, men are dumb.
Whatever the reason, he wants me and I believe it is permanently, not as a mistress, or one in a long line of many, but as his only one. And I want that too. Doesn’t mean I won’t make him work for it.
I miss Desi, Elian, and the kids. I miss Oleg and even Uncle Beli.
And I am eager to get back to them. Despite the territorial little cunts that tried to make my life a living hell, Dario and his family made El Fuego’s compound home.
My parents, brother, sister-in-law, my cousins and the staff are such a vital part of me that I know it will ache to leave them, but I don’t think the Kosher Nostra is my home anymore.
I can do quite a bit of my job from Florida or open another branch of The Burning Bush and run it myself.
Right now, though, I’m taking a sabbatical and exploring this new development between Dario and me.
He doesn’t know that and it makes me giddy with anticipation to watch him squirm.
Satisfied, I have everything I’ll need either packed in boxes or in my travel bag, I grab my purse and bag and head toward the main entrance of the compound.
I hear them before I see them, my entire family gathered in the foyer.
Dario stands to the side, speaking with my dad, brother, and Moshe.
Zeppo flips me off and then joins their conversation.
Our goodbyes are as tearful and dramatic as I expect. Aunt Esther lays out a long pillow on the floor and then my mother lays down on it and latches onto my leg, begging me not to go.
“Aunt Sarah!” Tovah admonishes. “Where is your dignity? Don’t beg on your kne—side.
You stand proud, look them right in the eye, and incapacitate them!
” Before I know it, I’m in a headlock, on my knees, while Tovah goes on and on about noble deaths and some Viking custom of butterflying your victim’s ribcage.
Everyone is laughing at us, but I see Dario glaring at Tovah, his hands flexing into fists at his side.
He’s ready to defend me. When our eyes meet, I wink, then go limp in Tovah’s hold, fall to my back and swing my leg up to kick her in the twat.
She falls to her back next to me on the tile floor and stares at me with glassy eyes. “You were mine first. He can’t have you.” Her whispered words are unexpected. “You know I don’t share well.”
“I know.”
“But you aren’t meant to stay here.” I’m so glad she admitted that out loud because I needed someone else to believe it too. I don’t want to make a mistake, but this doesn’t feel like one. It feels…inevitable.
“I know.”
“Cut the shit, Mons Solo.” I clutch my stomach and roll to my side with laughter.
“God, I’m going to miss you, fuckface.”
“I’m gonna miss you too, choadebucket.”
An hour later, Dario and I are sitting in the plane, next to each other this time, and waiting for the crew to finish their preflight checklist while his security team sits in front of us.
“Your family is…uh…quite…”
I giggle at his attempt at diplomacy. “Psychotic.”
“But in a good way.” He reassures me immediately.
I smile at him and when he looks at me something charges between us.
He moves slowly, inching his way toward me, waiting for me to deny him or throat punch him.
I only throat punch on Thursdays, he’s safe.
Plus, I want to feel his lips on me. When we connect, electricity shoots through my body, lighting me up until I’m practically crawling into his lap.
The damn seatbelt holds me back and I growl in frustration.
He pulls back, chuckling, and brushes some of my hair away from my face, his hand lingering on my jawline.
I decide to mess with him in retaliation.
“Thank you for agreeing to let me come back with you. I can’t believe my family is still dealing with the Teuling fallout. It’s weird I would be the only one not safe at the family compound, right? Do you think something else is going on?”
“No.” He doesn’t look me in the eye when he answers. I roll my lips inward to stop from smiling, pretending to think over his short response.
“Well, regardless of the reason, I’m just happy to be going back.”
“You excited about something?”
“Not really.” I blink up at him owlishly, my lips tipping in a soft smile.
“You excited about someone?”
“Yes.” I lick my lips as he inches closer to me once more.
“Yeah? Who?”
I part my lips, let the warmth of my breath mingle with his. His eyes flare with desire, dark and dangerous. “The Onion King.”
“Fuck,” he groans, ghosts his lips across mine then rears back so fast I’m surprised he didn’t hurt himself. “The Onion King?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Who the fuck is the Onion King?”
“Who is the Onion King? He’s the leader of the Overcooked kingdom. It has been many moons since he and I have spent a night together. I’m hoping when we get back, Oleg will join us for a wickedly delicious party.”
His lips twitch as he glowers down at me. Nose to nose, he grits out, “I will not spank you in a plane of my men, but be warned, you will pay for that.”
“Whatever you say, el jefe.”
The plane takes off and we sit in comfortable silence for a while, though my panties are quite damp just thinking of his hands on my body again. Not long before we are set to begin our descent, he informs me, “We will be going out for dinner tonight.”
“Sounds good.”
“Just the two of us. It’s a date.” He clarifies which is kind of adorable. Not a word often associated with Desidario Diaz.
“Where to?”
“There is a local place not too far from the compound with a Floribbean flair.”
I turn in my seat to face him, my expression serious. He notices and mirrors my position. “Do you own the establishment?”
“I am an investor, but not the sole owner.”
“Have you fucked any of the staff?” His mouth drops open, clearly not expecting my question.
“Uh…no?”
I shift again and face forward, ready for landing. “I would be sure before we step foot in that place, Dario. I’m not as forgiving as the Sarai Ima.”