Page 64 of Mafia King: Matteo
Angry sex is hot. She will learn that my sexual appetite is fueled to epic proportions whenever she’s near. I’ve never been so obsessed.
She’s right. My enemies wouldn’t bat an eye at taking her to get to me. I’d gladly give my life for hers.
I grab her even though she pushes me away. My lips cover hers. It’s a searing kiss, and my arms move as fast and as strong as a gale force in an ocean storm as I pull her into me. She resists me, but after thirty seconds, her plump lips are over mine. She moans. I return her enthusiasm. I return her enthusiasm and suck on her lower lip.
The kiss deepens as we grope each other in the back seat. She’s locked in my arms. My cock strains against the zipper of my pants. She murmurs as her body presses against mine.
The fact that someone would take her and torture her to get to me chills me to the bone. I’m a selfish devil for dragging her into my world where the real devils exist.
She does not know the faces that hide behind fancy titles as the players weave their webs. Men like congressmen who fund human trafficking missions to fill sex clubs where the women are branded like cattle.
I hold her tighter than ever. I will never let anything happen to her. I vow it to God and myself.
Regrettably, we roll to a stop at her condo. Vito exits and stands, opening the door.
I help Alena out of the car. Her lipstick is smeared. Vito pretends not to notice. I kiss her and watch as Vito walks her inside the secure building.
“She’s a handful. She’s smart—I’ll give you that,” Gio states as he begins to drive.
“Yes, but it’s more imperative that we find out what happened to my father. It’s been over two weeks, and we don’t have any clues.” I run my hand over my jaw, which is rough as my day started before dawn. Whereas I would have loved for Alena to join me tonight, I let her have her last night at her place to adjust. It seems fair.
It’s not the perfect engagement that Alena deserves, but I hope one day I can make it up to her.
I have to remain as lethal as I am nimble. I start each day working out at the gym at the mansion before dawn to stay fit. I lift weights and run on the treadmill. Niccoló boxes with me from time to time. He’s a genuine boxer and has a passion for the sport.
I have a young wife and many life events to look forward to. I have no intentions of being cheated out of the good life now that I’ve ascended to the head of the table.
“Gio, you have capos who tell you things. Can you hang out around them when they drink on their days off and see if any information comes from it without raising suspicion? I find it difficult to believe my father was doing something so secretive that no one knew about it.”
“His advisor did,” he deadpans.
It appears we’ve both reached the same conclusion. I mentioned loose ends to Alena. I know in my gut that the old man was privy to whatever became my father’s downfall.
“Yes, I’ll keep my ears open and see if anyone lets something slip. One would think there would be a trail of breadcrumbs with how things spread like wildfire around an office cooler.”
Was it a business deal? Did he slight another don? Did a deal go bad? I may never know.
The fact that he died by poison, and not bloodshed, is a surprising twist I didn’t anticipate. No one else thought to check for foul play, but he went down so fast. I assumed the liquor would have rotted his gut like it did his mind. I guess everyone else did, too.
I’m going crazy trying to figure out what transpired when too many scenarios could have occurred. I’m frustrated that, despite our advanced technology, we still don’t have a lead.
When will we get a break?
My worst fear is that my adversary might discover my secret before I learn their identity. I also have a Russian don that I need to befriend before he hears of my engagement.
CHAPTER 22
ALENA
“Thank you, Vito.” I look up to the handsome face of the man tasked with taking a bullet for me. He’s ordered to protect me with his life. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but now that I’m involved in the family business, I’m relieved he’s here. “Have a good night,” I say as I close my door, slide the deadbolt into place, and connect the chain for added security.
Who am I kidding? This door isn’t even solid wood. How safe am I? Besides, every mafia movie ends with someone being whacked. The mafia is like the KGB. You can’t escape them if they want you dead.
I slide out of my coat, toss it over a chair in the dining room, and prop my purse on the kitchen counter. Italians like coffee. I look at the coffee machine on the counter and pop an espresso pod into its empty mouth. I slide a to-go cup on the tray and push start. I unlock the door and look down the hall.
“Vito,” I call out softly.
He walks toward me, having rounded the corner in the hallway.
