Page 65 of High Stakes

I moan as Milo begins to move beneath me, his rhythm slow and deliberate, driving me to the brink of madness but I can tell he is in pain. Leone shoves his shoulder, making Milo hiss. “Lay down,” Leone snaps at him. Leone’s hands grip my waist, holding me steady as he enters me from behind, the sensation overwhelming as his cock slides in alongside Milo’s, stretching me and consuming every thought, every feeling until all that exists is the two of them and the pleasure that courses through my body like a live wire.

Their rhythm is relentless, their hands and mouths on me, driving me higher and higher until I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel. I’m lost in them, their need, their desire, and when I finally reach the edge, it’s like falling into the sun, the heat and the light burning through me, consuming me completely.

Leone doesn’t stop, even as I cry out, my body trembling with the force of my release. They keep going, their pace increasing, until I’m spiraling out of control, the pleasure toomuch, too intense until I’m nothing but a raw nerve, exposed and vulnerable beneath their touch.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, they reach their own release, their bodies tensing and shuddering against mine as they find their own pleasure. I collapse against Milo.

“Careful, he’s hurt,” Leone murmurs, his arm wrapping around my stomach taking most of my weight from Milo. But I’m spent and trembling, my mind spinning, unable to process what’s just happened.

Leone drags me back against him and off Milo. I slip between them, laying beside them.

For a long moment, we lay there in the aftermath, our bodies tangled together, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and sex. I can feel their hearts pounding against me, their breath ragged in my ear as Leone holds me close, his arms wrapped around me like a protective cocoon.

Milo’s fingers brush through my hair, his touch gentle and comforting. “You okay?” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“I thought they were going to kill you,” I whisper, finally finding my voice.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Milo tells me and Leone’s fingers trail lazily up my side.

Twenty-Three

Leone

The days following the basement incident are a blur of dealing with the Russians and the casino. Milo’s recovery is slow, his body still marred by the bruises and cuts Dante’s betrayal left behind. My father’s warnings echo in my mind, but I push them aside, knowing the work doesn’t stop for anyone—not even for family feuds. The Russians have become increasingly bold, intercepting shipments, pressuring our allies, and pushing their way into our territory. I can’t afford to let my guard down, not even for a moment. Especially with the history Mikhail and I have. Though we covered our tracks and he has no idea what really happened.

I immerse myself in work, doubling down on our operations. Meetings are endless—deals struck, threats issued. I’m surrounded by people—my men, investors, even my enemies—but all I feel is the cold detachment that has served me well over the years.

My father, however, is growing increasingly anxious. His worry for Dante, who has disappeared since the incident, gnaws at him, and I am copping the brunt of his worry. I see it in theway his hands tremble slightly when he thinks no one is looking, in the way his eyes dart to the door as if expecting Dante to walk through it at any moment.

“You haven’t heard from him?” he asks, moving toward the bar area in my office.

“Nope, and I don’t care to,” I tell him.

“He’s still my son, Leone,” my father says one evening, his voice thick with concern as we sit in my office, papers and reports scattered across the desk between us. “No matter what he’s done, he’s still my blood.”

“Blood isn’t everything,” I reply coldly, barely glancing up from the shipment logs in front of me. “Dante should run; he doesn’t want to cross my path any time soon.”

“And you would just let him die? Let him rot wherever he is?” My father’s voice rises, the tension between us thickening like a storm cloud.

I finally meet his gaze, my eyes hard. “Dante chose to betray me, to go against this family. I don’t have time to waste on a traitor, even if he is my brother.”

“He thought Milo was having an affair with your wife! I would have made the same assumption!” he snaps at me.

“Regardless, he should have spoken to me, not taken actions into his own hands regarding my wife and second,” I tell him, unperturbed by my father’s anger.

The words hang heavy in the air, the finality of them settling over us like a shroud. My father’s face hardens, the lines around his mouth deepening as he clenches his jaw.

“You’ve changed, Leone. Since, when do you share a woman, especially after Dante and Lydia,” he says quietly, his voice laced with disappointment. I don’t bother answering, he doesn’t need to understand shit, Fallon and Milo are not his business. “You’ve lost sight of what’s important.”

“I haven’t lost sight of anything,” I snap, pushing back from the desk. “I’m focused on what needs to be done. The Russians are a bigger threat than Dante throwing a tantrum.”

My father shakes his head, the disapproval in his eyes cutting deeper than I’d like to admit. “This isn’t just about business, Leone. Family is more important than anything else.”

I don’t respond, instead turning my attention back to the reports in front of me. There’s too much at stake to dwell on what’s already done, too much to lose if I let my emotions get the better of me.

As I sit in the quiet of my office, trying to focus on the mountain of paperwork stacked in front of me, my thoughts drift to Rocco and Sienna. Fallon hasn’t said much since Sienna’s father dragged her away, but her silence is deafening. She’s furious with me, and rightfully so. She’s giving me the cold shoulder, her anger simmering just below the surface. I can feel it every time she looks at me, her eyes accusing me of being complicit in Sienna’s fate.

But what she doesn’t understand is that my hands are tied. Rocco hasn’t come to me, hasn’t asked me to intervene. Until he does, there’s nothing I can do without igniting a war. Sienna’s father is a powerful man, and stepping in would mean crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed. The decision has to come from Rocco. He needs to decide if he’s willing to risk everything for her. Because once I step in, there’s no going back.

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