53. Leona
LEONA
The gala was here. The Camorra had been in New York for three weeks, and they were already ingratiating themselves into the upper echelons of society. It had to stop before we couldn’t control it any longer.
My eyes scanned the guest list that Ciel, Max, and Obi had prepared while I finished taming my curls into a half-up, half-down style.
I pulled a bobby pin from between my lips and used it to pin the last curl into place.
Then, I picked out a few strategic wisps to frame my face and inspected my work—a dark cat eye, light gold shimmer on my eyes, and a red lip.
Makeup felt like armor. It hid the dark circles under my eyes and smoothed the imperfections I worried over, even though none of my men seemed to notice or care about them.
And was there any reason for me to fret over them?
When I was also strapping a gun and knife to my thigh, just in case someone tried to kill me?
Probably not.
The makeup still made me feel badass. Polished. Like if I pretended hard enough, acted the part, I just might pull the queen act off.
My eyes caught on the left side of my face. Then I glanced at the pale, fading marks on my chest, peeking out from underneath my robe. Remnants of the pain I’d survived.
I still woke up from nightmares, terrified and gasping. I still felt cold in my bones.
But those scars didn’t hurt me anymore. My men were right: carrying our pain together made it easier.
I picked up a Q-tip and used it to clear the makeup off my scar. To show off the evidence of my strength, despite how heavy it sometimes felt. Greco wanted to break us. I’d already broken before, and my men had put me back together. I wouldn’t break again.
My palm spread over the dossier, tracing over the pictures of the people who were supposed to be at the fundraising gala tonight.
Politicians, lawmakers, businessmen. People who we had caught doing even worse shit than we did, pretending like they were sparkling white angels who should be in charge.
We weren’t perfect. We were objectively bad people. We were criminals who killed people, sold drugs, and distributed weapons. My entire business—the mafia organization—profited off breaking the law and getting away with it.
But there had to be shades between black and white, right?
We weren’t like them.
I might be a criminal, but I was better than these people who pretended to be good but were the worst of all. Better than the Camorra, who drained country after country dry just because they could.
Fighting them, trying to carve out just a sliver of goodness even amongst the bad, was worth it. We weren’t called the fucking Shadows for nothing. Light and dark coexisted.
A knock on the wall outside the bathroom pulled me from my thoughts. Max stood in the doorway, dressed in a handsome tux, with a black garment bag hanging from his fingertips. He held it up with a smile.
“Got you something.”
I grinned. “And what is that?”
“Come find out.”
I pulled the zipper down, revealing a shimmering gold dress within. A little gasp escaped my lips.
It was perfect.
The dress was a shimmery floor-length material.
The neckline was in a loose cowl shape, with ruching across the bust that gathered higher on one strap than the other.
It gave a very flattering shape that drew the eye upward, and would pair beautifully with the exposed neck and hairstyle I chose.
As I ran my hands down the material, a slit appeared—one that went almost to the hips.
It would be downright sexy with my leg peeking out.
A jeweled starburst brooch sat on the thinner shoulder strap.
My fingers brushed down its shape, remembering the starburst necklace Max had given me at my birthday party.
All those months ago. The pendant was a very similar design, though the color was different.
If I still had it, it might have been the perfect accessory to tie the outfit together.
But tonight, I’d wear Ryuji’s collar instead.
“When was the last time you wore a dress like this?”
“Not since my birthday party.”
I’d worn a fancy dress the night we infiltrated The Obsidian sex club in Philadelphia with Fallon and the girls, but this was different. This dress was true designer fashion. It was meant to draw attention, to highlight the curves of my body and make people turn their heads.
This was not a dress to blend in.
This was a dress to command the room.
It was armor of its own kind. But tonight, we wouldn’t be hiding.
If all went according to it, this was our opportunity to show the city who to choose in the conflict ahead.
Greco couldn’t just swoop in and take it from under our noses.
We would make our own allies, whether through blackmail or by getting the few good people who ran this city on our side.
Max’s voice was full of emotion. “Want to put it on?”
“Yes.”
Together, we pulled the dress from the bag.
“Go sit down,” I said.
He smirked, gave me a full up and down look that had all my nerves tingling, and then took the garment bag with him back to the bedroom.
I peeled off my robe and slipped into the dress.
It fell over my body like tight silk. Snug and soft, hugging every part of my body but not uncomfortably.
The ruching at the neckline made my boobs look even bigger and drew the eye toward the starburst pendant at the shoulder.
The gold made my hair look even more fiery.
Because of the slit, I had to move my thigh holster and its weapons to my other leg, but it was as sexy as it felt.
“How’s it going in there?” Max called while I did a little swish and inspection in the mirror.
The dress looked perfect, but there was just one part left.
When I walked back into the bedroom, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom. His eyes went wide and his throat bobbed as he looked me up and down. When his mouth parted and absolutely nothing came out, speechless, I knew he loved it.
I sat on his lap, facing out. “Help me zip it up?”
His hands smoothed over my hips. “I’ll help you take it off.”
I laughed. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
Hot kisses pressed all the way up the back of my neck, making me gasp and twist against the hardness in his lap as he dragged the zipper closed. Goosebumps prickled all down my arms while his hands brushed over the bare skin.
“You are so beautiful. You have always been so beautiful,” he whispered, lips pressed to my neck.
I wiggled my ass, earning myself a groan of pleasure.
His fingers drew across my neck, over my collarbone.
“It feels so hollow to say this now, but back at your birthday party, I tried so hard not to show how badly I wished things were different. I gave you that necklace as a parting gift. I thought I’d never see you or Cas again. ”
“Are you glad things have changed?”
“So glad. I was so fucking angry when you gave that necklace to Fallon Byrne, of all people, but it wasn’t at you. I was furious with myself.” His palm spread over my skin. “Speaking of which, I got you something.”
I shifted in his lap so I could watch him take a long, red leather jewelry box from inside his suit jacket. He handed it to me. “Open it.”
A gasp escaped my lips when I saw the bracelet inside. It was absolutely stunning. Set in white gold, there were countless diamonds cut in baguette, princess, and troidia shapes that encrusted the entire length. It sparkled with radiance and stole the breath from my lungs at the same time.
My fingers gently touched it. “How did you get this?”
He kissed my neck. “I’m resourceful and intelligent and irrevocably in love with you. There are no limits to what I’m able to accomplish.”
“This is…too much, Max.”
“There is no such fucking thing,” he responded as he lifted it from the box. “Let me help you put it on.”
His touch was light as he clasped it around my wrist. I shifted it, watching as the diamonds danced in the light. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He rested his chin on my shoulder. “I’ll buy you necklaces, bracelets, earrings—whatever you want.”
I blinked back the emotion in my eyes. My voice was a whisper. “You’re going to make me cry.”
“Well, that is no good,” he said quietly. His hands pulled at the dress fabric. “I’ve made you cry enough as it is. How about I get on my knees to make it up to you, instead?”
My hands covered his, and my eyes fluttered closed when he nipped the sensitive skin of my collarbone. “Do we have time?”
“There’s always time for you,” he murmured. “I’m sure the other guys would agree.”
My core clenched as his breath tickled my neck, and I tried to come up with any reason to hurry this up and get downstairs so we wouldn’t be late…but I had nothing.
I was in a fucking beautiful dress with a bracelet that cost a fucking fortune, I had my weapons on my thigh, I felt powerful and aroused, and I wanted to be fucked. Simple as that.
“Kneel, then.” I was going to fuck up Obi’s timeline, and I was sure I’d face the consequences of that later, but I didn’t care.
Neither, it seemed, did Max. He pulled my head to the side and fused my lips to his in a passionate kiss. He only broke it so he could push me back on the bed. When he drew my skirt up, he sucked in a breath.
“You’re not wearing any underwear.”
“It messed with the lines of the dress.” My eyes were fixed on the way a little bit of his hair hung over his eyes. When I was younger, I’d so often dreamed of pushing it out of his face. On their own accord, my fingers ran through his hair. I tugged, and he groaned.
“I can’t wait to make you scream,” he said, dipping his head so he could seal his mouth against my pussy.
My moan was strangled when it tore from my throat. My thighs tightened around his head and my fingers tangled in his hair even tighter.
“Fuck my face, anima mia.” His tongue circled my clit while his palms gripped my thighs to hold me in place.