Page 79 of Stolen Sin

It’s all over the news: a gas leak caused multiple explosions on a residential block, ending with multiple casualties.

Gas leak. That’s the story they’re going with. I have no idea how much money Simon’s passing around to keep the truth out of the news reports, but it’s got to be substantial, because nobody believes it.

Online, the conspiracy people are going nuts. And for good reason. It’s not like Chicago went deaf during the shootout. The whole damn city heard what happened, and the powers that be want to blame it on a gas leak.

No wonder people don’t trust the media.

I creep down the unfamiliar steps at around five in the morning. The house is quiet and empty, and I pause to look at a family photo of the whole Bianco clan. Laura looks so young, barely six years old, and all the boys are lined up like little princes. Elena’s clinging onto her mother, and Alessandro Bianco’s standing over them all, beaming at his little crew of loves. It breaks my heart, and I keep going, downstairs and toward the library.

Simon’s behind the big desk. It used to belong to his father, but I guess it belongs to him now. He’s exhausted with big bags under his eyes and he’s hunched over a computer, writing another email to yet another state senator or whoever he’s bothering today, and barely looks up as I go over and give him a gentle kiss.

“Did you come to bed last night?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “Simon, you need to sleep.”

“I will once everything is settled.” He puts a hand on my leg. I glance at the far end of the desk where a bottle of Japanese whiskey is sitting. It hasn’t moved since the attack three days ago and I wish he would get rid of it, but I guess he can’t bring himself to throw it away.

“How’s he doing?” I ask gently.

Simon leans back in the chair and sighs. He closes his eyes as I slip down into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. I lean against his chest, listening to the steady patter of his heart.

“If he had used a bigger glass, he’d be dead right about now,” he says very softly. “That’s what the doctor told me last night. His stupid obsession with fancy glassware saved his life. He’s in bad shape, but he’s alive.”

“What was it? Did they figure it out?”

“Rat poisoning. Superwarfarin rodenticide is what they told me.” Simon squeezes me tight against him. “I never in a million years would’ve thought Dad might try to kill himself. I guess he thought—” Simon stops and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know what he thought. Maybe that there was no other way out for him.”

“God, Simon. I’m so, so sorry.” I stay buried against him and wish I could do something to draw the hurt away, because I know at least a little of what he’s going through. What happened to my father left a deep scar inside me. It’s not easy seeing a parent go through something so horrifying. Except Simon’s situation is ten times worse than mine.

“He’s alive and we’re going to help him. Right now, believe it or not, I have bigger problems to deal with.”

“You’re right, you do, but you won’t be able to fix anything if you don’t get some rest.”

“Baby—” he starts, but I decide to force the issue by grinding my ass against his crotch. He grunts and I know he likes it.

I kiss his chin and neck before he takes a fist of my hair and buries my mouth with his. Our tongues swirl around each other and I kiss him like that for a while, staying in his lap and feeling his warmth against me, until we finally break apart.

I manage to coax him upstairs and we fall into bed together. The sex is slow, tender, like he needs to express himself and I let the pleasure and the moment wrap around me. His mouth between my legs, his tongue on my nipples, his cock buried deep inside. We fuck until we’re a sweaty mess, and then we fuck some more, and I give him everything, and he gives me everything in return. I come three times before we’re both spent, beyond exhausted, physically sated but still emotionally raw.

The blinds are pulled and the room’s dim in the early morning sunlight. His eyelids flutter, but he won’t fall asleep.

“I need you to know something, topolina.” He tugs me tighter against him. We’re naked, and my one leg is tossed over his hips, my breasts on his side. “You don’t have to do this. If you don’t want to. I won’t hold it against you. I release you from our deal.”

I sit up on an elbow and stare at him, because I swear, he’s got to be the dumbest man in the world if he’s saying something so stupid to me right now.

And I tell him so, along with a few choice curses.

He smiles and shakes his head, his thumb teasing down my lip. I slap it away.

“I’m going to be the head of a family on the brink. Everyone’s out to get us right now. The cops, the politicians, Santoro’s gang, all the other gangs. They smell blood in the water. I’m keeping the worst of what happened out of the news, but there are too many rumors and too many bodies. It’s hard enough being the Don’s wife, and it’ll be twice as hard doing this with me. I love you, and I want to give you the choice before it’s too late.”

I could bite his stupid nipple off right now, except that would mar what’s otherwise a perfect chest, so I hold back.

“Simon, listen to me. No more choices. No more indecision. I’m not going anywhere.”

“There are going to be legal battles. Half our fucking soldiers have a case against them right now and the DA is dead set on taking me down too. We’re going to be in court for years litigating what happened here, and I’m going to have to spend all our capital and call in all our favors just to stay afloat, and I have to do this while murdering all of Santoro’s crew. I just need you to be sure.”

“I’m sure.” I kiss him gently. “I’m absolutely sure.” I straddle him, arching my back, my pussy brushing over his half-hard cock as I lower my face to his chest.

He sighs with relief and holds me against him.

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