Page 17 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

“You can’t,” I protested. “He’s not accessible. And besides, I walked away from him. Let him be.”

He smirked like he was considering it. “Well, if you need anything while I’m gone this week for business, just let me know and I’ll drop everything to come to you.”

“We’re not together, Vino,” I reminded him. “So there’s no need for that.”

“But next week,” he said confidently. “You’ll ride my fat cock.”

I visibly swallowed at the thought.

“Let’s meet at my place next week,” I blurted out, hesitating to go to his place. For some reason, I knew that if I did, I would enjoy it. He leaned back in his seat and placed my food in front of me before grabbing his own plate from across the table and setting it down in front of him.

“Okay, I’ll come over,” he agreed.

“Just for sex. No need to bring dinner,” I reminded him.

He nodded, seeming tired of our constant arguments about this issue.

Was he serious when he said he didn’t bring women home anymore? It didn’t really matter. I just needed to avoid going to Vino’s house. I had a feeling that once I was there, he would try to convince me to spend the night, and that was something I wasn’t ready for.

I stabbed at my food with my fork, trying to shake the uneasy feeling settling over me. My resolve was firm—I wouldn’t step foot in his house. Something about that felt too permanent, too intimate. If I went there, I knew he’d try to make me stay, and I wasn’t letting that happen.

My eyes drifted to him, catching his handsome profile as he focused on his plate. His sharp jawline, his confident posture. It frustrated me how easily I gave into him. And when he licked his fingers clean, all I could think about was pulling his hand back up my dress.

“Just sex,” I reiterated.

“Sure, Claire,” he replied, his tone dripping with disbelief.

This man was relentless. He was trying to turn us into something we weren’t. Something I couldn’t let us be. He was right. My past had scarred me, leaving behind haunting memories that were sad, dark, and twisted. Memories that were my burden alone, secrets I could never share with anyone else.

CHAPTER FIVE

VINO

I stepped out of the SUV, Xavier and Theron flanking me as we entered the store. Theron veered left past the soda coolers, heading toward the back office to secure the security footage.

Santon’s men were too focused on their own destruction to notice they were outnumbered.

Xavier stood beside me, his hands loosely clasped in front of him.

“What the fuck are you doing in my territory?” I said, my voice even but edged with warning.

The taller of the two, a dark-haired punk, shoved a basket of bananas to the floor instead of answering.

Xavier moved, but I lifted a hand, stopping him. The motherfucker blatantly disrespected me.

The only thing stopping me from smashing his face into the ground was my concern for not further traumatizing the cashier. The other guy, stocky with brown hair, had the nerve to glare at me and Xavier, his nostrils flaring. Unlike his reckless partner, he at least seemed to recognize the weight of the situation.

Their casual attire—jeans, t-shirts, and boots—stood in stark contrast to my men, always dressed in suits. The four families carried themselves with professionalism. That is until respect was lost. Then, we reminded people just how unhinged a man could be, even in a finely tailored suit.

“Our boss, Michaelangelo sent us to collect payment…Vino,” the taller one finally answered.

The disrespect in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

I glanced at the woman behind the counter. “Get down on the floor. I’ll handle this.”

Her brown cheeks were wet with tears, and her body shook as she crouched down behind the counter.

Turning my attention back to Santons men, I spoke evenly. “This business, along with the others in Hackensack, is under the Romanos’ protection. I could’ve let my men drag your sorry asses to me, but I’m tired of Michelangelo’s bullshit. So I decided to deliver the message personally.”

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