Page 67 of Forbidden Obsession

It took the carelessness of his heir and underboss, Antonio Cappalli, to lend me a view complete with audio recordings of every move they made. The boss and underboss spoke frequently, shared secrets, fucked the same women, and spoke openly about their plans to sell more cocaine than they could handle.

As the underboss of the Lucas Cosa Nostra, I admired their tenacity.

As The Black Rose—I hated the thought of them living through the next day. Antonio Cappalli had given me all I needed. More than enough, actually, and as it turned out, I wouldn’t need to penetrate Vito’s compound to get to him.

I ordinarily preferred to be in the same room when my mark went down, but for this exercise, I watched from the tiny camera embedded in the food tray that waited for Vito by the bedside, where he fucked his eighty-nine-year-old mother-in-law.

Two stainless steel domed food covers sat on the serving tray. It was Vito’s birthday night. Antonio had thrown his father a celebration worthy of a president. All their closest friends and family were there. Mafia families had received invites for an evening of unparalleled festivity.

Vito was on his third bottle of Chateau d'Yquem Sauternes when his mother-in-law, Valentina Cappalli, sauntered up to him and delivered a kiss on his face.

“Happy Birthday,” she said. “You were always my favorite child.”

“You’ve said that often, mamma; I think it’s time you prove it.”

He slapped her ass and drew her in for an open-mouthed kiss that had onlookers exiting the room quickly.

Sixty seconds later, they were naked, their sex escapades spilling from the front room to Vito’s quarters, and Victor Cappalli—the former Boss—was none the wiser.

He sat in a room downstairs with an entire caregiving team that wiped the saliva that occasionally dripped down his lips. In a world unknown to him—his memory loss came with a crippling illness that rendered him incapable of understanding who the people were around him or who he, himself, was.

Formerly one of the cruelest mafiosi, Victor had reigned with an iron fist. If anyone made the slightest mistake, he would annihilate one’s entire family. Ruling like this made him feared, hated, and most importantly, powerful. In the underworld, power was everything. However, now Victor was a shell of the man he once was, and no amount of that power would reverse the effects of his failing health.

Screams and shouts filled Vito’s room as he and Valentina went on like horny teenagers filled with energy they’d waited to release.

Seconds turned into minutes, and just when I thought he’d make me wait a little longer, they fell on top of each other, panting and sweating like animals in the jungle.

“I should’ve fucked you sooner,” Vito said, causing Valentina to laugh.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I would think that answer is obvious.”

She pinched his cheek. “It’s been a long time since your father made any sense. Years. You could’ve had me a long time ago. Besides, I’m only rotting away at his side. Might as well not let the pussy go to waste, yeah?”

They laughed together, finding amusement in their sweaty fever.

“I didn’t even get a slice of cake, for fuck’s sake.”

“Aww, you can get cake anytime. Besides, the chef had some delivered to you.”

He sat up and looked at the serving tray beside the bed.

At my warehouse, I settled in my chair and kept my eyes locked on the moment I’d been waiting for.

“So he did,” Vito said.

He stood up and strolled, bare-ass, to the tray and lifted the right stainless-steel dome.

“Would you like a bite?”

She sighed, still floating on cloud nine. “Sharing?”

“I’ve shared everything else; might as well share a bite of cake.”

She stood and walked over to him as he grabbed the large slice and put half of it in his mouth. Turning the cake, he stuffed more than she could handle in her mouth, and she laughed and took a step back, choking and clearing her throat as she swallowed.

He nodded and frowned. “That’s…hmmm. The sweetest cake I’ve ever had.”

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