Page 94 of Dirty Mafia King
Wrong vibe. Wrong eye color.
Little Miss Innocent’s probably tucked away in her fancy hotel room bed. Dreaming of rainbows and lollipops, and Italian gelato.
I bring the bottle to my lips and drink deeply. My own fucking fairy tale is coming true. I should be rejoicing, not feeling empty inside.
Everything’s set. My becoming capo di tutti capi is a dream my old man never envisioned. Still, I don’t wish for Don Lucchese’s death. In fact, I dread the day the news arrives. He’s been a better father to me than my own.
I flex my knuckles, remembering the day I realized I’ll never be the man my father wanted me to be. That I was stronger and wiser than he’d ever be.
His friend cornered me in the barn and placed a knife to my throat.
I waited for the fuckhead to shove me to my knees and withdraw his cock before removing my Swiss Army Knife from my pocket and driving it into his kidney.
Dick out and writhing on the barn floor, I returned to my father’s office to inform him what had transpired.
I’ll never forget his reaction. He shoved his face into mine and snarled, “You allowed him to touch you without a fight? No one touches a Beneventi without permission.”
“It was tactical. I did what was necessary until I could position my knife,” I calmly explained. “Then, not only did I fight, I killed him.”
“The other capos will demand an explanation.”
I shrugged. Not my fucking problem.
“Did he touch you or not?”
“Yes. But…”
“You’re a disgrace. Unworthy of my name. Word gets out and I’ll be a laughingstock.”
“Dead men can’t talk,” I replied.
He never loved me like I love my sons. They may be little shits, but they’re my blood, my family. Touch them or hurt them, and there’s no place on earth you can hide.
“Fear makes you weak,” Don Lucchese wisely informed me, explaining my father’s business style without directly addressing him by name. “Respect makes you powerful.”
A lesson I learned well, and from a man more father to me than my own. A man deserving my unwavering respect.
The brunette nudges my thigh with her cheek. “We’re here for your pleasure, Sebastiano.” She licks her plump lips. “Use us.”
Nothing.
I make a go at finishing the bottle. As I do so, a flash of silver draws my attention.
A gorgeous woman in a blond wig and grey gown hovers by the door. Her dress is conservative, hugging her curves without exposing too much skin. Her beautiful breasts aren’t on display like most guests. But it’s her stare that captures my complete attention.
With such intensity. Suchneed.
My dick rears to life.
Madonna mia.
The woman in the red dress next to her demands her attention.
Cockblocked—that’s what this is.No fucking way.She glances my way, and I curl my fingers, beckoning her over.
The redhead becomes animated, and cockblocks me again.
In my own fucking mansion.
