Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Fiore isn’t here. He doesn’t know what’s going on in New York, and he probably doesn’t give a fuck. The Outfit won’t help us. They have their own problems. We need to act now. We can’t wait for you and Fiore to discuss every fucking thing in detail. The Russians are turning us into fools.”
Cesare stared at me as if I’d lost my mind for talking to my Capo like that, but I didn’t give a fuck. I cared about the Famiglia, and if my father posed a risk to it, he needed to realize it.
“You aren’t Capo yet, Luca. You won’t be Capo for a long time, and you might not become Capo at all if I declare you as unworthy, don’t forget it.”
Most of the soldiers in New York already trusted my judgment more than his. I didn’t say anything.
“Do what must be done so the Russians know their place,” he said eventually.
“Will do,” I got out, then hung up.
“I like the look on your face,” Matteo said with his shark-grin.
“We’ll attack one of their labs. They want their fucking drugs back? We’ll steal more of it and crush a few Bratva assholes.”
Matteo clapped his hand, grinning. “That sounds like my kind of entertainment.”
I turned to Cesare. “Choose ten men to join us.”
We couldn’t allow the Bratva to destroy our drug trade. New York was our city. It was my city, and no one would take it from me.
The attack was bloody, brutal, and exhilarating, but it was a success, even if the Bratva almost caught us by surprise by the end. After hours of killing and torturing Russian bastards for information on possible future attacks, a veil of darkness seemed to cloak my mind, a need for more violence, more blood. I didn’t bother getting out of my blood-soaked clothes before heading home. I just wanted to see Aria, wanted to feel that calm and belonging her closeness miraculously brought me.
But I was barely myself, or maybe I was my true self in those moments of mindless bloodshed, of unrestrained cruelty. It was difficult to say. More monster or man? Before Aria, the answer would have been easy…
Romero eyed me worriedly when I entered the apartment. “Are you okay? Or do you want me to stay?”
“Leave,” I growled, my eyes latching onto Aria, who lay on the couch.
“She couldn’t sleep because she was worried about you, and then she fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t want to carry her upstairs.”
I gave him a harsh look and he finally stepped into the elevator and disappeared. Slowly, I stalked closer to my beautiful wife. She was in her satin nightgown, revealing her slender legs and the enticing swell of her breasts.
Mine. Only mine. So fucking beautiful.
A dark hunger unfurled in my body, a need to finally claim the woman before me. I slid my hands under her back and legs, then lifted her into my arms. She smelled sweet and innocent. I wanted to corrupt her, to taste her, to fuck her. I wanted to make her mine.
“Luca?” Aria’s soft voice echoed through the pounding in my ears, through the fog that always clung to me after hours of screams and shooting.
I carried Aria into our room and lay her down on our bed. My eyes traced her body in the dark. She was like a beacon of light in the black of the room.
She moved, and the room was flooded with light.
Aria’s eyes met mine. Wide, fearful.
My gaze dipped to the swell of her breasts once more, then continued to her narrow waist and down to the valley between her thighs.
“Luca?”
I could have died today. I could die tomorrow.
I could die without having tasted every inch of my wife, without having claimed her.
I got out of my blood-soaked shirt then unbuckled my belt. My hands were steady, always steady, no matter what they did. They didn’t shake when I pulled the trigger, when I cut a throat or when I skinned a fucker.
“Luca, you’re scaring me. What happened?”
I shoved down my pants and knelt on the bed before wedging one of my knees between Aria’s legs. I leaned over my wife, my eyes taking in the way her breasts rose and fell with every breath. Mine to claim.
Aria lifted her hands and touched my cheek, warm and soft and careful.
I blinked, my focus shifting to her face, to her fear-widened eyes, the barely contained terror in her expression. Man or monster?
I dipped my face down into the crook of her neck and breathed in her flowery scent, feeling her pulse throbbing against my lips. I concentrated on the feel of Aria’s palm against my cheek.
Aria was my wife. Mine to protect.
“Luca?”
I peered at her face. I wouldn’t be a monster with her. I shoved off her and quickly moved into the bathroom. Turning the shower to ice cold, I slipped under the stream, watching as it took away the blood and some of the darkness, but the rest clung to me as it did so often after days like these.