Page 64 of Fortress of the King

I grin, holding her hips so hard I know I’ll leave a mark. I bend to her ear. “Are you on birth control?”

She nods, sticking her ass out further, trying to impale me harder—dirty little thing.

I grunt, satisfied.Good.I’m going to come inside her, mark her, own her.

Despite what she says or thinks, she ismine.

I reach around and pull one nipple with my fingers, making her yelp. “You look so gorgeous taking me like thisCarina, I might not want to give you back.”

I slam into her harder, pumping her, making her feel every inch of my angry dick. She starts to come and I mutter in Italian how fucking beautiful she is, how she’s mine, how I’ll never let anybody touch her. Then all too quickly, I find my own release.

I spurt violently inside her as I still, a groan sounding in the air that I realize is coming from my throat.

We’re both panting and breathless.

“If you lie to me again about not wanting me, then I’ll tie you up next time and I won’t be gentle about it,” I whisper. “You hear me?”

She whimpers as she nods and I hold onto her hair with force. “Yes.”

I continue to pump her slowly, feeling my cum dripping out of her, enjoying how it feels and how breathless she is. I bet she’s never had an experience like this before in the basement of her workplace. I wish I didn’t have to go tonight; I’m fucking pissed about it.

“Good girl,” I say.

I can’t be sure, but I think we both have an understanding. And it excites the fuck out of me.

* * *

The private room at Westmead hospital is like something you’d find at the Ritz Carlton.

If only they could find a cure for cancer instead of spending all this money on decor.

Mario sits up in bed. With the help of a ventilator, he’s able to take rapid, wheezy breaths.

His eyes light up when I enter.

“Angelo, my son,” he says when I pat his hand, taking a seat on the chair next to his bed. “I’m so pleased to see you.” It takes about five minutes for him to get all of that out.

“Mario. How are you feeling?”

He coughs, and I pour him a glass of water. It’s hard seeing him like this. The only man I’ve ever respected aside from my father. I love him like he is my own father, and in turn, I’m like a son to him.

“About the same. I hear the Petrov’s are trying to snake their tentacles through any outlet they can get their hands on.”

Good news travels fast. Even though the man’s half-dead and confined to a hospital room, he’s still on top of everything in the underworld.

“We’re stopping them at every turn. They’re trying to bribe the already bribed, some greedy fuckers out there who will live to regret that. Word on the street is Petrov got a major cash injection from out of state. Seems they’re pretty hell-bent on doing whatever they can to take over, little by little.”

“They won’t,” he rasps. “We’re too big. We own too many people.”

“That’s true,” I say, holding the cup up to his mouth. “However, one thing you taught me well was to never underestimate your enemy, no matter how weak they may appear. They’ve been working the underground gambling and prostitution rings behind closed doors by men that pay me for protection. That won’t go unpunished, but first, I need to find out why.”

“Power. It’s all about power, money, and prestige. You give any one of these bastards an inch, they’ll take a mile. You, of all people, know that Angelo. I taught you everything I know, and there is nothing more you have to learn. You’re most vulnerable when you’re predictable. Petrov and Rombaldi will strike when you least suspect it, be ready for anything.”

“He already knows we’ve squashed one of Rombaldi’s bookies. I slit his throat. He was employed by the good Senator Mendes. Illegal prostitution and child trafficking are amongst many of his crimes. He likes underage girls. I already shut down one skanky club where girls were being lured. I can’t let that go unpunished. I won’t.”

He nods. “I know how you feel about that. There’s a lot of fucked up shit we indulge in, but there’s no place for that in this city. All it does is spawn more illegal operations and devalues the drug trade. You’ll do what you have to do, and you’ll show no mercy. Someone has to be made an example of, and they’ll respect you for it in the end.”

My father rescued my mother from an illegal sex trafficking ring before I was born. She was poor and homeless, a migrant who was promised a new life in America and was sold to the sex trade instead. He didn’t intend to fall in love with her, but here we are.

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