Page 31 of Mafia Queen

I took a new glass from the waiter’s tray. “The less they know, the better.”

“But why? Dante and Lorik can help us figure all this out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out.”

“Of course, there is.” Lucio fisted his hands together while placing his elbows on his knees. “It’s been weeks, and Vadik’s been a no-show. Something ain’t right, cousin. She has a goddamn chip—”

“Keep your motherfucking voice down.” I shot him a warning glare, clenching my jaw. “If we tell them about the chip, we’ll have to tell them about Mancuso.”

“We don’t have to tell them shit about Mancuso,” he argued, and I snorted.

“Do you know Lorik? Do you know my brother? They are like fucking bloodhounds, and once they catch a scent, there’s no goddamn way they’ll lose it until they’ve figured everything out.” I exhaled, frustration and anger shoving my heart up throat little by little.

“I still don’t get why we can’t tell them.”

“Because that will mean I have to worry about two more fucking mouths spilling everything to Doe.” I shot back my entire drink, cringing.

Lucio shook his head. “Are you that fucking determined to keep her from finding out who her real father is?”

I moved forward, getting closer to him, my face stone and my glare deadly. “If you weren’t blood, Lucio, you’d be dead.” Without taking my glare off him, I leaned back, stretching my arm across the headrest of the couch. “Does that paint you a clear enough picture of just how fucking determined I am?”

In typical Lucio fashion, he didn’t take my warning as a threat or an insult. It wasn’t meant to be either. It was the truth. He knew it. I knew it. If he wasn’t blood, he would have been granted one breath after Mancuso before I would have ended his life as well.

Lucio straightened. “To the grave, cousin.”

I nodded. “To the grave.” It was our pact. Our vow. No matter what, we would take our secret to the fucking grave.

Karina and Doe walked over to Lorik and Dante, said a few words, then Doe turned to look at me. Her smile was shy, beautiful, innocent—like a girl who had just caught the eye of the boy she liked. With a single nod, she got my message. My demand. I was summoning her over, and she obeyed with every step she took.

The music, the lights, the alcohol, the way her dark eyes settled on mine, excitement sparkling in her chocolate irises—she seemed like a goddess. Right here, right now, there was no trace of Nessuno the slave. In fact, the way she swayed her hips, shoulders squared, head held high, she looked more and more like the woman she was meant to be. Alessia Mancuso, daughter of the now deceased Stefano Mancuso. The last of a bloodline. The heir. The queen.

My cock hardened. It was such an ironic turn of events. Two enemy bloodlines together. The universe sure had one sick fucking sense of humor.

I placed my drink on the table just as she reached me. With a tug, I pulled her down into my lap, her tiny frame fitting perfectly against mine.

“Have I ever told you what a possessive fuck I really am?” My finger gently stroked down her arm, and her breath hitched. “I see the way other men look at you—”

“Antonio—”

“I can’t blame them, you know. For wanting you.” I lifted my chin, brushing my lips against the skin of her neck, loving the way her body trembled. “I’ve already had you over, and over, and over again.” My hand touched her knee, greedy fingers moving up on the inside of her leg. “I’ve fucked you every goddamn night for the last few weeks. Some nights more than once, yet I just can’t seem to get my fill of you.”

Her chest rose and fell, her breathing labored as I slipped my hand under her dress, fingers prodding against the thin fabric of her panties.

“Now, imagine how all these other poor fuckers have to feel knowing they will never have you, never know how it feels to be inside you.” I moved her panties to the side and smothered a moan when I felt how wet she was. How ready her body was for me. My dick was concrete just thinking about how easily I would be able to slide inside her, deep. Oh, so fucking deep.

I pushed a finger inside her, earning a deep, low moan from her heart-shaped lips. “This pussy belongs to me now.” I spread the wetness of her cunt all around her inner lips then applied the slightest amount of pressure on her clit. Another moan escaped her mouth.

I glanced over her shoulder. Everyone was still standing by the bar, deep in conversation, laughing and drinking. No one was paying any attention to us, to me fingering Doe as if we were in the privacy of our own room.

My arm tightened around her waist, fingers digging into her hip, and I nuzzled down the side of her neck. “Spread your legs a little wider.”

She didn’t question me. She obeyed. She always fucking obeyed.

“Next time, you don’t wear panties. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.” Two words that sounded like an angel’s prayer on her lips. Yes, Master.

This time I drove two fingers inside her, her thighs starting to quiver while I kept steady pressure on her clit.

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