Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LAZ
My phone buzzes in my pocket, the vibration one I ignore as I continue to kiss our omega.
But when it starts up again, I pull back to take it out, fully expecting to toss it to the side.
Until I see Stefano Ricci on the caller ID.
I narrow my gaze. “Fucker is thirty minutes early.”
Noah looks up from where his face is buried in Aurora’s neck, his gaze meeting mine. “My knot isn’t moving anytime soon.”
Johan practically collapses back onto the table, his dick still hard and protruding through the opening in his pants. He releases something incoherent that sounds a lot like “G’luck.” Which I take to mean that he’s joining Noah in the “not moving anytime soon” category.
“Assholes,” I mutter as the call goes to voicemail again.
A text message comes through a few seconds later that reads, Call me back, Ferraro. Now.
I roll my eyes at the demand. I should make him wait just to piss him off.
But I want answers.
Which means I need to keep him somewhat agreeable if I want him to talk.
Sighing, I focus on Aurora, noting her pink cheeks and blown pupils.
She looks so pretty like this—freshly used and lost to the orgasmic bliss of Noah’s knot.
She did so well for her first time. Not being able to take all of Johan’s load wasn’t surprising.
But as Noah already said, we’ll work on it.
I lean in and brush my lips against hers.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, princess. You’re amazing.
” I kiss her again. “I wish I could stay and play, but I need to return Stefano’s call.
Just lounge there with Noah and let him take care of you, yeah?
” I trust him with her safety. He’ll make sure she comes down from her euphoric high and see to her needs.
I’ve never actually watched him fuck or knot anyone before.
So that was an experience.
One I fully intend to witness again and perhaps join in on in the future.
Sharing Aurora with him will be… explosive.
Poor omega. She’s going to feel like she’s being ripped in half by our knots. But she’ll take them. And she’ll love every fucking minute of the experience, too.
Or perhaps every fucking hour is more accurate, I think, my gaze running down to where she and Noah are still connected. He’s going to be inside her for a while.
“Jealous?” he asks, clearly noting the trajectory of my gaze.
“Extremely.” I reach down to thumb her swollen clit, causing her to gasp and clench around Noah.
He growls in response, obviously enjoying the squeeze around his knot. “Dick.”
I smile. “You’re welcome.” I give Aurora another tender caress and catch her moan with my tongue as I kiss her soundly. “Make Noah and Johan come again while I talk to Stefano,” I demand. “I’ll join the three of you in a bit.”
She releases a little squeak.
But Noah chuckles and shifts his hips, causing that squeak to turn into a shriek.
“Don’t hurt her,” I add, walking away. “And no claiming while I’m on the phone!” I yell back to him when I reach the door. Because I’ll be fucking pissed if I miss that.
Noah’s reply is muted by the slamming of the door.
He’s a dick, but I know he won’t disrespect me by disobeying a direct order. Not when it comes to the pack, anyway.
Aurora is our heart. He knows that as well as I do. We’re a pack that’s meant to protect her and cherish her. Which means marking her will be a joint activity, not a solo one.
Unless otherwise discussed, of course.
Settling behind my main desk in the den—which is adjacent to the conference area I just left—I pull up my computer and connect my cell phone to a nearby Bluetooth speaker.
Then I dial up Stefano using video conference technology so I can see the Ricci family don on my computer screen.
His frowning face appears in seconds, his dark eyes glowering at me. “I wanted an in-person meeting, Lazarus.”
“And I wanted a calm meeting the other night with your men, Stefano. But they tried to kill my second-in-command. Clearly, we can’t always have what we want.”
His square jaw ticks, his gaze narrowing even more. “Bastian was a bastard, but he didn’t deserve to die like that, Ferraro.”
“If one of my men tried to kill your second, how would you respond?” I demand.
“He was my brother.”
“And Johan isn’t just my second. He’s pack. I know you understand that. So cut the shit and tell me why Johan was really targeted. Are you trying to start a war? Because I’ll gladly give you one.” This isn’t going at all like I planned. But my patience is suddenly incredibly thin.
All I want to do is rejoin my pack in the other room. Watch Noah knot Aurora again. Help her pleasure Johan with her beautiful mouth. Maybe convince her to indulge me in a round, too.
But instead I’m stuck on the phone with Stefano, talking about a dead man.
Brother or not, he earned his fate when he attacked Johan.
“If you’re looking for an apology, you won’t be getting one,” I go on. “And if anyone should be apologizing here, it’s you for targeting my pack first. Now tell me why I shouldn’t set fire to your entire fucking world.”
There are a few logistical reasons I can think of that prevent me from letting Noah go on another killing spree. But I’m sure we could find a way to properly navigate the shattered businesses and take over as the new owners.
Of course, Giovanni may have an issue with that. Which Aurora already commented on.
The balance between the three families only works because we respect one another.
But the Riccis just disrespected the Ferraros. And I can’t let that go unanswered.
“My brother was an ambitious man,” Stefano says slowly. “His desire to run the Ricci family empire wasn’t a secret. He took great pride in telling me how he would one day replace me.”
I say nothing, just fold my arms and wait for him to continue.
Because so far, I haven’t heard a good reason not to kill him.
Rivalry among brothers is common in our world. But a good don knows how to command respect. If Stefano couldn’t convince Bastian to support his leadership, then that’s a Ricci family don problem. Not mine.
“We weren’t close,” Stefano mutters. “That’s why I gave him an enforcer position out in the field, not in the family home. I also didn’t know about the meeting he arranged with you until after it occurred.”
I arch a brow. “The request came through your official channels.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” There’s a note of irritation in his tone, one that doesn’t appear to be directed at me. “I’ve handled that issue. It will not happen again.”
Someone moves into the background, the all-black suit giving him away before his face appears near Stefano’s on the screen. Nazar Petrov.
It was quite the scandal when Stefano named the infamous Russian assassin as his second-in-command.
I found it rather amusing at the time.
I assume, however, that Bastian did not share in that amusement.
The stoic male looks at me with his silver-blue eyes as he whispers something to Stefano. Then he straightens and leaves the frame.
“You’re certain?” Stefano asks, sounding wary.
“Yes,” the Russian replies, that single word seeming to be underlined in lethal intent. It reminds me of Noah. Except Nazar isn’t quite as psychotic. He doesn’t play or enjoy death. He simply annihilates. Efficiently. Swiftly. And effectively.
If he and Noah were to ever join forces, the world would weep with blood and tears.
Or they would end up killing each other in the end.
Unclear.
Nor does it matter.
“If you’re going to waste my time with personal discussions, I’m hanging up,” I inform Stefano, my voice flat.
“Nazar was just confirming that the information we learned this morning is, in fact, true.” Stefano leans forward like he’s trying to ensure he has my full attention through the camera. “It seems my brother accepted the hit assignment from Giovanni Bianchi.”
My fingers flex with the urge to create a fist against my desk. But I manage to maintain my composure—just barely—and give him a bored look. “That sounds like a convenient way to shift blame.”
“Come now, Ferraro. Don’t tell me you’re surprised by this reveal. It should be rather obvious to you, given your current situation,” the assassin says, his voice lacking the accent I know he was born with. But the man speaks at least a dozen languages. Fluently.
He reenters the frame, this time closer to Stefano, and leans down to meet my gaze.
“I hear you’ve kidnapped a mafia princess,” Nazar murmurs. “Could that be why Giovanni has a bounty on Johan’s head?”
“How much is it for?” Stefano asks, making my jaw clench.
“Are you trying to infuriate me?” I demand.
“I want to know how much was offered for my brother’s betrayal,” Stefano replies, then looks at Nazar. “Do we know?”
“From what I’ve gathered, Giovanni promised to help Bastian overthrow you.”
Stefano snorts. “And how did the Bianchi don think he was going to accomplish that?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Nazar replies silkily. “Lazarus, always a displeasure to see you. Until next time.” He steps away, causing Stefano’s gaze to drift as the assassin leaves.
“Stop checking out the Russian and tell me what else you know,” I demand.
“The details of my brother’s betrayal are still unfolding,” Stefano says without looking at me. “I’ll keep you informed.”
The line goes dead before I can tell him that’s not good enough.
A growl leaves me, one that echoes through my office and rivals one coming from the other room.
Does she know? I wonder, my mind shifting to a place I don’t want to visit. One underscored by potential betrayal. Does Aurora know that her brother has a hit out on Johan?
We haven’t been screening her calls or monitoring her. Johan felt strongly about protecting her privacy—which is ironic, given the developing situation.
But has she even tried to reach out to her brother?
I was very clear about rule number one—no sharing any details about our pack with anyone else, including our plans, location, and businesses.
Did she break that rule?
I run a hand over my face, not appreciating the way my chest feels in response to this line of thought. My heart feels strangely tight, like it can’t properly beat.
She’s our omega.
Our… our center.
Except, we never really gave her a choice. Is she only pretending to want to be with us? Is she secretly working with her brother? Supplying him with information? Trying to take down our pack?
My jaw clenches with the prospect, and I push to my feet, determined to make her answer some questions.
But I freeze in the doorway to the conference room when I see Johan bending her over the table to slide into her wet pussy.
Noah is standing beside him, fisting his own cock while he watches. “Doesn’t she feel amazing?” my enforcer asks, his voice low. “Like the best pussy you’ve ever experienced?”
“The only one I ever want to experience,” Johan grinds out, slamming home inside of her as she claws at the table.
Her eyes are closed, her lips parted on a pant. She doesn’t look unhappy. In fact, she seems to be quite pleased by what Johan is doing to her.
But we’re her scent matches.
Her destined alphas.
It wouldn’t be difficult for an omega to feign interest in that situation.
So is she playing us? I wonder, my chest aching once more. Have we fallen for the oldest trick in the book—a vixen spy?
I swallow, my eyes narrowing.
If she’s here to hurt us, she’s in for one hell of a surprise.
Because she’s ours now.
And we won’t be letting her go.
Ever.
I quietly shut the door to return to my desk and pick up my phone.
Then I select Giovanni’s number and hit Call.