Chapter 19 Sora
SORA
I could sense the tension between Leo and Kenji as soon as my brother came over, and if the chef hadn’t had a last-minute panic over someone dropping the lemon custard for tonight’s dessert, I wouldn’t have dared to leave the two alone together.
I realize that they need to interact when I’m not present—now more than ever, since our families are negotiating a trade deal that will hopefully make our alliance stronger.
But after what I witnessed between my brother and husband, I would say we’re no closer to a long-lasting peace than we were before the wedding.
As I find Leo in the dining room and settle into the chair beside him, I can sense the anger rolling off him in waves. I glance up at him from the corner of my eye and realize he’s staring daggers at Kenji as my brother picks the chair across the table from me.
I know my brother well enough to recognize he must have said something. Kenji has a way of getting under people’s skin, of poking at their most sensitive spots and making them squirm. Like a kid with a magnifying glass over an anthill.
I don’t know what he said to Leo, but clearly, he’s found a sore point. “Ignore him,” I murmur, resting my hand on Leo’s forearm.
Don Augusta rises from his seat, raising his glass and turning to solute the capo dei capi before addressing the rest of his guests.
“I want to thank you all for coming tonight,” he says.
“Our family is an old one, with long-standing ties to the families around us, and it’s a privilege to have you all in our home to share this lovely meal.
This night marks a momentous occasion, one I hope to announce before the end of the evening.
But until then, I hope you can enjoy the food and the company. Saluti.”
“Saluti,” the guests echo, raising their glasses.
There’s no mention of who put tonight’s festivities together, but then, I didn’t necessarily expect there would be.
Women are meant to be seen and not heard in the Mafia world.
We’re the silent supporters who make our husbands’ lives run smoothly and without acknowledgment.
Still, it feels good any time I catch one of the guests appreciating a detail I planned that they particularly like.
My lips curve into a soft smile as I dig into the beetroot and blood orange salad with goat cheese that I chose as our first course.
When the salad is nearing gone, the serving staff come in to trade out the plates, putting a course of cranberry-glazed leg of lamb medallions in front of the guest, served on a bed of rosemary mashed potatoes with a side of tender flash-fried green beans.
Again, the choice seems to be a hit—particularly with Don Parelli—and I silently thank Gio for the invaluable tip as the capo dei capi gives his compliments to the chef loudly enough for the table to hear.
By the time dessert is served, I can actually start to relax enough to enjoy the chilled digestif of limoncello served alongside hastily whipped-up single-serve raspberry cheesecake glasses the chef made using the mix that had already been chilling for a smaller dinner event later this week.
Goosebumps lift along the nape of my neck as Leo leans toward me to whisper in my ear. At the same time, Don Augusta stands to speak again, but Leo doesn’t turn to give his father his attention.
“You did a beautiful job with dinner, Princess,” Leo murmurs, his limoncello-scented breath washing warmly across my skin.
Then his strong hand finds my thigh, and heat crawls up my spine as he slowly lets his fingers slide beneath the slit.
“I think it’s time for your reward. Don’t make a sound,” he warns and presses a kiss to my bare shoulder, sending my body into overdrive.
My eyes fly wide, my back stiffening as his hand slips further beneath my dress, his fingertips brushing the inside of my thigh. I know the don is speaking, but I can’t hear a word he says as I look at Leo in panic and find a wicked grin curving his lips.
“Leo,” I breathe, silently pleading with him.
“Shh,” he whispers as he shifts his gaze across the table to Kenji, his grin turning smug.
My brother studies him suspiciously before glancing in my direction.
Mortification claws at my stomach as Leo’s eyes move lazily toward his father, pretending like nothing is happening as his hand slowly creeps up my leg to brush against my lace-covered sex.
I can’t help it. I gasp, heat flooding my cheeks as a zing of pleasure ripples through me, and I glance anxiously toward the woman to my left. From the corner of my eye, she looks too focused on Don Augusta to notice, and I press my lips together, determined not to make another sound.
Reaching slowly beneath the table, I shift my napkin to hide what’s happening, and as I press my thighs together in an effort to stop Leo, I grab his wrist with my free hand.
But I can’t make any forceful movements without drawing unwanted attention—and I’m no match for Leo’s strength as his fingers curl around the edge of my panties to stroke my slick seam.
A tingling numbness takes over my body. My ears buzz noiselessly as all my senses focus in on the pleasure that pounds through my veins at Leo’s light touch.
I shift slowly, trying not to squirm as I struggle to maintain control of my body.
I can’t, and my breath catches as he presses two thick fingers inside my throbbing entrance.
Horror grips my chest as Kenji’s eyes meet mine. His narrow suspiciously, then slowly, he takes in the tension of my shoulders, the unsteady rise and fall of my chest—and Leo leaning toward me just slightly, his hand hidden under the table but clearly in my lap.
I see the disgust, the irritation, in Kenji’s face. Then my brother’s expression shutters, the emotion vanishing completely. But he doesn’t look away. He watches Leo, whose lips twitch with amusement as he starts to finger me in the presence of all his guests.
An involuntary shudder ripples down my spine, and I grip Leo’s arm harder, my nails pressing into his flesh, as several people glance in my direction.
Desperate not to give away what’s happening beneath the table, I turn my eyes toward Don Augusta.
Thankfully, Don Parelli, who sits to Leo’s right, hasn’t seemed to notice anything amiss—nor have my parents, who sit across from him and nearer the head of the table.
But as my arousal intensifies, I have to bite my lips together to keep the sounds inside.
Leo looks completely at ease beside me as his fingers swirl over my clit, spreading my wetness and making each movement more electrifying.
I can’t believe him. I can’t believe he would do something so intimate right here, in a room full of such important guests.
These people matter if he’s going to be the new Don of the Chiaroscuro family, and yet, he’s toying with me like he wants me to blow the whole evening wide open.
The horrifying thought does little to distract me, though, as Leo slides two fingers back inside my throbbing entrance, bringing me intense relief. I can’t help it. My eyes fall closed, and a soft whimper rushes from me before I can stop it.
“Are you alright, dear?” Maria Degano asks, leaning in from my left to whisper so she won’t interrupt Don Augusta’s speech.
Agonizing embarrassment claws up my neck, burning in my cheeks. Please, don’t look down. Please, please, don’t see what’s happening right under your nose, I beg silently of Don Degano’s wife.
“Yes, fine, thank you,” I say breathlessly, struggling to keep a moan from escaping with my words. “Just a… headache.”
She gives me a sympathetic look and pats my arm before leaning back in her chair to listen once more. I scarcely dare to breathe when I turn back to Don Augusta’s speech.
Leo’s watching me, his gaze filled with wicked enjoyment, and my anger skyrockets, even as a shudder of pleasure ripples through me.
Traitorous excitement has soaked the fabric of my panties, and they cling wetly to my skin, hindering his motion, but even that turns me on as he continues to plunge into my depths, his thumb simultaneously teasing my clit.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Kenji watching us still, fury rolling off him in waves, but I can’t stop the way I’m barreling toward release, despite—or maybe even because of—the need to stay silent so as not to draw more attention from the crowd.
I can’t bring myself to look directly at my family again, to check whether my parents have caught on or read my brother’s face.
Tingling euphoria races out to my fingers and toes, and I curl them inside my deep-green, pointed-toe Louboutin heels as I try to stave off the impending climax.
But nothing is going to stop that train from pulling into the station as Leo presses deeper inside me, his fingers curling to find my G-spot with expert precision.
I groan, and my hand jerks upward to try and muffle the noise, but in my scramble to hide the sound, I forgot that the table’s in the way.
I slam into it as the first wave of my release comes crashing through me with tidal force.
My clit flutters, twitching as my walls throb around Leo’s fingers, urging him deeper inside me.
It’s all I can do not to cry out as my ecstasy consumes me.
Don Augusta stops mid-sentence, all eyes turning to me as I grip the edge of the table, my face burning with mortification. Blood rushes in my ears, pulsing through my veins like hot lava in a heady combination of humiliation and euphoria.
And as I sit there, burning beneath the spotlight I absolutely didn’t want directed my way, Leo’s fingers slide from my depths, leaving a trail of slick arousal along the inside of my thigh as he withdraws his hand from my dress.
“S-So sorry, Don Chiaroscuro-sama. I s–smacked my knee. Please, continue,” I gasp breathlessly, wishing I could crawl under the table and die.
The don’s eyebrow lifts skeptically, but after a momentary pause, he does resume his announcement, and the eyes around the table return to him.
Simmering with fury, I glance at Leo and blush intensely as he holds up the fingers that were just inside me. They’re still glistening with my juices as he looks pointedly at Kenji and smirks. Then, to my never-ending horror, he wraps his lips around them to salaciously suck them clean.
If fire could burst from Kenji’s head, it would.
I’ve never seen my brother so angry.
And I’ve never felt more used or degraded in my life as it hits me with shocking clarity—Leo did that just to get under Kenji’s skin. He humiliated me to do it.
Angry tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I quickly blink them away as I struggle to stay in my seat rather than interrupting Don Augusta a second time to run away.
“It is with great pleasure that I can announce Don Parelli has given Leo his blessing to become the new Don in Chicago,” Leo’s father says, the words suddenly coming into focus like a tuned radio station. “Leo, would you like to say a few words?”
“Of course,” Leo says, rising from his chair to take the spotlight as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just make me orgasm at a table full of his dinner guests, as if he didn’t just violate my trust and use my pleasure to hurt my brother through me.
But Leo made one gross miscalculation when he decided to shame me.
Kenji doesn’t give a damn about my feelings.