Page 55 of Capo

Eighteen

Luciano

My house is full of people. San Francisco is a brewing war zone. There’s been an influx of drugs and weapons that aren’t ours, a couple of dead pimps, and a bunch of scared whores. People we don’t know have been seen at the gambling clubs and there’s been not-so-friendly propositions made to several of our subcontractors. I’ve sat in meetings with Eric and Ivan by my side. My second youngest nephew Matteo is on his way down to play as well. He’s more of a tech guy than muscle, but we have good use for his lawyer degree. His younger brother Luca is too fucking young. I was already a seasoned killer at his age, but he’s lived a charmed life, and hasn’t hardened. He does work for me, of course, but with this shit I don’t want his amateur ass anywhere close to my office. Their older brother Nathan hasn’t worked on the dirtier side of things since a few years back when he met his fiery spitfire of a woman, Sydney, and they had a kid. I respect his wishes. He’s done right by me the whole time, maintaining our legal businesses, mainly real estate. I have no real use for him here if he won’t fight. There will be mayhem, I have no doubt about it.

And still no word from Christian. I’m getting concerned. He might be gone for long periods of time, but I can always reach him.

The day has turned into late afternoon. I slap the armrests on my chair and stand. The weariness from the last day and night hasn’t abated. I’ve kept it at bay, but only barely. Everyone grows quiet and looks up. “I need a breather. Be back in half an hour.”

“Boss—” Ivan shoots to his feet.

“Hold the fort for me. If that fucker Tommy doesn’t answer, send someone for him. You don’t need to be gentle. Make sure the clubs open as usual. We don’t want anyone looking our way. It can’t be known that we’re taking notice.”

Ivan nods.

As I stride toward my garden for some breaths of fresh air and a moment of silence, I pull the phone out of my pocket and bring up the feed from my private rooms. I find Chloe pumping away in the gym, furiously. I take in the sheen of sweat on her skin and her flushed cheeks. It’s as if my feet have a will of their own and before I know it, I’m turning the lock to my wing.

She looks up and comes to a full stop as I enter the gym. Holding her gaze, I slowly remove my tie, shrug out of my jacket, unbutton and pull off my shirt, hanging the clothes neatly on a rack. Her eyes dart across my bared chest and then back up to my face.

“As you were,” I say.

She flinches and drops the dumbbells, grabbing the hem of her top.

“No. Keep at it. I want to see you work out.”

Her hands clutch the fabric, then she lets go but doesn’t move.

“Pick up the dumbbells, Chloe,” I say as I grab the barbell, satisfied with the weight. “Go on.”

“I don’t know if you’re gonna punish me if I don’t get naked,” she whispers.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! I will punish you if you don’t do as I say. Period.” I begin to pump, working my biceps, as I hold her gaze. She flinches and picks up the weights. Our eyes stay locked as she goes back to her routine and the air thickens between us. I could get lost in those big round eyes, bright blue, so innocent looking when she, interestingly enough, is pretty fucking far from innocent. Christine. I like it. To me she is Chloe, and I’ll respect that it’s who she wants to be, but I like the thrill of knowing there are layers to this girl. Dark, delicious layers.

She works the weights harder than I’ve ever seen her do before, her muscles rippling under her pale skin. I wonder if she’s working off her frustration, because I know I sure as hell do. She grunts with effort, and I can smell her perspiration from across the room, fresh, tantalizingly musky. Woman. Her. I want to throw the weights down and ravage her. She only has a few more days, then she has to give in, come crawling to me and beg me to take her, or I’ll fucking have her brothers flayed alive. I’m running out of patience. I drop the barbell in a sudden wave of fury. Chloe stops what she’s doing and widens her eyes as I get up off the bench and stalk toward her.

“What?” she gasps and backs up. I follow. She backs until she slams into the wall with a yelp. “Salvatore! What did I do? Please?”

I put a palm to the wall next to her head and lean in, sniffing the mouthwatering scent that wafts up from her warm skin. My cock stirs and all I see is how I bend her over, rip off those little shorts and slay her cunt.

“Fuck!” I roar and push away. Grabbing my clothes, I leave a gasping Chloe behind, still pressed up against the wall, looking as confused as I feel.

Chloe

I can’t keep it together after he has left. Sliding along the wall, I hug my knees, rocking back and forth. There’s no consolation to get anywhere. No one is coming for me. I’m not getting out, and I’ve almost forgotten what it is like out there. All I know are these rooms, this volatile, tantalizingly beautiful man, my own body wreaking havoc with my mind, hate, desire, fear, and longing.

I scream. Hesitantly at first, then I scream as if I’ve lost it entirely. It’s liberating. I’m sweaty, spent, my muscles aching after the exercise and I scream myself hoarse, until the ball of fire in my chest fades to a flickering, much more manageable flame. God, I want to beat that man! He pushes and prods, gives some and takes so much more. And I’m stuck here. The clock is ticking. I have a few days, then I have to spread my legs for him, and not only that – he wants me to fucking beg. I squirm and clench my thighs. I don’t want to want him between my legs, but every-fucking-thing about him is like watching the most disgusting forbidden porn. Watching it. Liking it. Living it.

“I know you see me, you piece of shit!” I scream, barely recognizing my own voice. “I hate you so fucking much!”

Finally, when nothing happens, I grow tired of my own wallowing and take a long hot shower before I spend the rest of the evening in front of the TV. My stomach is filled with butterflies on crack. Something is changing between us. I feel it. I fear it. I know what I’ve had, and it’s been mostly shit. I don’t know what the future will bring, and it terrifies me. He asked me if I was bored. Well, I have to give him that. Not tonight, I’m not.

I’m sitting cross-legged on the middle of the bed, watching a movie, when the door quietly opens and he enters. I dart up and put the plate of grapes on the side table as I tear off the pale green flannel shirt I had cozied up in. He raises a hand and I stop flat with the shirt still bunched in my hands.

“Put it back on and come.”

Watching him warily, I pull it back over my head. I have jeans on and am barefoot as always. I changed the bandages to band-aids and my feet are fine to walk on. “Where are we going?” It’s one a.m. I thought it was bedtime, teasing time, spanking time, or whatever mood he would be in for the night.

“I’ve had a rough day. I just need to sit a little.” He cocks his head for me to follow and I trail behind him like the obedient little girl I’ve turned into.

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