Page 43 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

“Got it, boss,” he replied.

Meanwhile, Vix positioned himself by the balcony, standing tall, broad, and vigilant. Paul stood off to the side, eyes sweeping every face that dared come close.

I picked up the Louis XIII liquor and poured the amber colored liquor into the glass. Bringing it to my lips, I strolled to the balcony. My gaze combed the first floor, bustling with people dancing to the left of the bar. Claire sat at the bar chomping on her jerk chicken while she listened to her employees, who doubled as friends.

One of the ladies peered up at me, then whispered in Claire’s ear.

She peeked up at me and smiled. I smirked as I brought the glass to my lips. With all the shit going on right now, here I was at a New York City night club in the city of my enemies. I sent for more men from my uncles. They covered the first floor. There were men stationed up and down the block. I wanted to make sure Claire enjoyed her night. Not let my war blow back in her face. By the end of the weekend, Claire would understand her role in the Romano Crime Family.

I stepped back from the banister and returned to my seat. My piping hot steak awaited me. Settling into the booth, I tossed the remaining contents in my glass down my throat. I removed my sunglasses and pushed them into my inner jacket pocket before digging into my steak and broccoli.

A woman with lush mocha thighs slid beside me.

“They got you guarded like you, Al Capone or somebody,” she chuckled.

Xavier cleared his throat, and a chuckle fell from my lips. My woman didn’t know how close she was to the truth.

“Having fun?” I asked to get her mind off my extensive protection detail.

Her brown eyes met mine. “Yes.” Then her eyes darted to the liquor filling the table. “Is all this just for you?”

“It’s for whoever sits at my table.”

I jutted my chin to a table caddy corner from mine. “There’s a table waiting for you.”

“Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe this is real. You, Angelo, and my benefactor are spoiling me.” she beamed.

My jaw twitched. I felt a pang of envy towards my own actions.

She gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “You can’t be envious of others taking care of me, Vino. You’ve only recently become part of my life.”

No, I haven’t. We’ve been together for five months. That was what I wanted to say.

“What would you like to drink? Louis XIII?” I asked, pushing my plate to the side and pouring the cognac into an empty glass.

“How’s your steak?” She inquired.

“Delicious,” I replied as I placed the glass in her hand.

“Vino, can I ask you something?” she ventured, her voice soft as she cradled her drink in the booth’s dim light.

I draped my arm over the top of the booth beside her. “Yes?” I replied, curiosity sparking in my eyes.

She leaned in, her gaze searching mine. “This is more than a question. It’s a request. I want you to fuck me while I’m drunk.”

A snarl twisted my lips as I leaned closer. “No.”

Claire turned toward me. Her delicate fingers trailed along my clean-shaven jaw. I could see the conflict in her eyes, the liquid courage fueling a desire she’d never dare voice otherwise. “I’m giving you permission,” she murmured.

“Why?” I asked, my tone laced with hardened disbelief.

Her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment. “I need to feel…”

“…in control?” I supplied, the words slipping out before she could finish.

My free hand glided slowly over her outer thigh, the warmth of her skin igniting a fire I’d long kept in check.

“Yes,” she breathed, pressing her lips to mine. “I haven’t been able to trust anyone in a long time. I believe I can trust myself with you.”

---