38. The Heart Knows
The Heart Knows
Ialready hated this day.
Giovanni sat opposite me while Alessio took the head of the table and discussed updates from their men stationed in Ireland. The update was: there was no fucking update. No sightings of McKenna or his most loyal men.
“We are shifting our attention to his allies in America and France,” Alessio said, but I was barely listening.
My eyes were locked on the empty chair next to Giovanni, my hands clenching into fists under the table. I had my headphones resting around my neck, ready to help me zone out from reality the moment I needed it. I’d more likely need a miracle to stop me from committing murder today.
“Maddox, you’re on edge,” Alessio said, leaning back in his chair and regarding me. Nothing got past the Mafia King of Italy. Except that I’d made his sister-in-law squirt last night, an image I’ve been replaying in my mind. “You look like you haven’t slept.”
“I haven’t.”
“Are you having withdrawals?” Giovanni tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at the tension in my body. “Do you need a dose of Raw Mercy?”
I scoffed. They had no fucking clue. “Trust me, that’s the last thing you want to give me today.”
They glanced at each other, unease passing between them. After a quick knock, the door opened, and a Buccini soldier led three stoic men into the room.
The moment the Russians walked in, the meeting room felt more claustrophobic than the bunker ever had. Alessio and Giovanni stood. I leaned back in my chair and ran my hand along my chin as I looked at the man who Soraya was promised to.
He was tall. Really fucking tall. Dark, immaculate suit. Perfectly symmetrical face with sharp features. One look into his dark blue eyes, and I knew his type. Polished and controlled, but beneath the image of perfection lay a ruthless bastard any sane person would think twice before crossing.
I wasn’t anyone. And I definitely wasn’t sane.
“Aleksandr,” Giovanni greeted, shaking his hand before Alessio offered the same respect. “Welcome.”
The Russian turned his attention to me, sizing me up with a blank expression. “The Irish captive, I presume. Quite a story you are.”
Clearly, the Italians had prepared him.
“Maddox Moriarty,” Giovanni said, introducing me, since I made no attempt to greet him.
“He’s provided useful insight into how Sean operates and who we should target to find him.
We’ve managed to disrupt some of his businesses in Ireland to try to draw him out, but so far Sean isn’t taking the bait. ”
Aleksandr stepped towards me and held out his hand. “Aleksandr Rostov.”
I stared at it for a moment, considered breaking his wrist, then looked away.
“...No.”
Tension crackled. Aleksandr retracted his hand.
Giovanni groaned. Alessio glared. What they didn’t realise was that I was exercising self-control.
If I touched that man, I’d kill him. When it became clear I wouldn’t cave to their intimidation or disbelief, an amused smirk tugged at the corners of the Russian’s lips.
“Not one for fake pleasantries?”
I didn’t answer, just glared daggers at him as he made his way to the other side of the table from me. The men all sat down.
The door opened again, and Raya slipped inside. Her eyes lit up when they met mine. My chest ached every time she looked at me like that, as if I truly meant everything to her.
Her expression changed quickly when she noticed Aleksandr had already arrived. She offered him a weak smile, and when he stood to greet her, I clenched my jaw so hard I heard my molars crack. If he touched her in front of me, I’d have no choice but to cave in the Russian’s skull.
I didn’t understand why I was like this. My protectiveness and possessiveness over this woman were instinctual. Completely fucking feral. I had no control over it. I had no idea how I was going to let her marry this asshole, but I would. I had to. She deserved more than the life I could offer her.
Luckily for him, Raya didn’t walk towards him. Instead, she came to my side of the table and pulled out the chair beside me.
I swallowed, keeping my gaze downcast, my jaw pulsing in time with my pounding heart as our knees brushed under the table.
She sat beside me, not him. Me. That calmed me enough to keep the beast inside leashed for now.
“I’ve located McKenna,” Aleksandr said with an unbothered air, causing all our heads to snap towards him. I narrowed my eyes, distrusting.
“Where?” Alessio asked.
“Crossing the border into Belgium.” Aleksandr tapped his fingers on the table, his eyes flicking between us all.
“You’ve confirmed this?”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere in Europe.” He didn’t say it with arrogance, but as if it were a fact the Italian had overlooked.
I shifted in my chair, my pulse racing at the thought of being one step closer to revenge.
“I have one of my best trackers following him. I’ll know his next moves before he makes them. ”
“That’s great news,” Giovanni smirked, clapping his hands together. “Give us the location, and we’ll take it from here.”
Aleksandr’s gaze bounced around us all and landed on Soraya. My shoulders tensed.
“Information has value.”
There it was. What all mafia men did. Negotiated. Manipulated. Blackmailed. Call it what you want, but it was all the same. I rolled my tongue over my teeth, fighting the urge to dive across the table and force the information out of him.
“The Pakhan wants a wedding date set before we share any more details.”
My fists clenched on my knees, my nails breaking the skin. His father was calling the shots, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The Italians handed the Russians their heads the moment they agreed to this alliance.
Every muscle in my body locked tight. Beside me, I felt Raya go still. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t look at him. I’d imagine them together. Then all hell would break loose.
I was about to put my headphones on, close my eyes and focus on deep breathing techniques when Raya’s soft hand found mine under the table. She gently unfolded my fingers, one by one, then laced hers between them. Air returned to my lungs.
Giovanni rubbed his forehead. Alessio stayed calm, glancing between Raya and Aleksandr.
“How soon did you have in mind?” Alessio finally asked as the tension nearly exploded.
“Next week,” Aleksandr said, cocking his head towards Raya. “I’m needed in Moscow by the 11th, with my bride.”
Raya swallowed and squeezed my hand, reminding me to stay calm, that no matter what happened, she’d always be mine. It worked. Barely.
Raya nodded at Alessio. He replied, “Set a date for next week.”
My hand snapped across her thigh, clamping down. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she quickly covered her mouth, pretending to cough to hide it.
“I’ll start making arrangements,” Aleksandr said, but I couldn’t listen anymore if everyone was to leave this meeting alive. I placed the headphones over my ears before I ripped out his tongue.
Instead, I focused on Raya’s supple skin beneath my calloused hand as I caressed her inner thigh. She squirmed slightly, keeping her eyes on the table in front of her and her poker face firmly in place.
My fingers crept under her dress. She tried to squeeze her thighs shut, but I gripped her flesh tighter, forcing them apart.
Her breathing increased, her lips parting as I rubbed over the fabric covering her clit.
She nodded in agreement at something someone said, trying her best not to react as I continued to play with her pussy. No. My. Fucking. Pussy. Mine.
I could feel how wet she was through her underwear, and my blood rushed to my dick.
When I slipped my middle finger underneath and pushed it inside her tight cunt, she jolted, and her hand clamped around my wrist. She tried to push it away but then also pulled me in deeper, as if she were at war with her own desire.
I bit back a smirk as her head snapped to her brother, who I could only guess was asking if she was okay.
Could I make her come like this, in front of her brothers and the man she was promised to? Fuck yes. I definitely could. And I’d love every second. But she’d hate me for it.
When her nails dug into my skin, and her legs shook, I showed her mercy, easing my finger out and gripping her thigh roughly instead. Her posture relaxed, and she gave me a side-eyed glare, pure lust and hunger battling with annoyance.
Everyone’s heads turned towards the door, drawing my gaze. Liliana had entered, carrying a tray of coffees. Her green eyes danced across our faces, lingering on Raya’s as a silent conversation passed between the women. It was obvious she was there to check on her.
I took off the headphones to hear what was causing Liliana’s eyes to widen.
“We are in an important meeting, Lili,” Gio said sternly, clearly not happy that she had interrupted.
“Sorry. I thought you might all be thirsty,” she said politely, keeping her eyes down as she placed a mug in front of each of us.
“Do you allow all your maids to interrupt private meetings?” Aleksandr asked, studying Lili as she moved toward him. She paused behind his shoulder. He shifted in his chair to stare at her. Giovanni’s jaw clenched tight.
“She is not a maid. This is my daughter. Liliana Buccini.”
A flicker of surprise sparked in his deep blue eyes as he studied her blushing face.
She swallowed and leaned over Aleksandr’s shoulder to place a mug in front of him.
He didn’t move to allow her room; instead, he stayed exactly where he was, causing them to almost touch as she quickly straightened and moved back.
Liliana held the tray over her chest, looking embarrassed.
“Daughter? Really?”
Liliana’s eyes met his briefly, and her blush deepened.
“Si,” Giovanni snarled. “Be careful what comes out of your mouth next.”