Page 8 of Luciano (Belles & Mobsters 1)

“It’s Cassio.”

“Didn’t I just see you?” I asked in a dry tone. It would seem lately he, my father, Massimo, along with Alessandro, Luca, and Nico were the only people I talked to.

“I couldn’t get enough of you.”

“Perv. I’m not giving you my ass. Call one of your willing women.”

“I don’t need your ass. I have a willing woman sucking my dick right here,” he chuckled. Fuck, some days I envied him. I couldn’t stomach bedding another woman, or have her suck me off. “She says hi.”

“I hope this is not the only reason you called. Because best friend or not, I will beat your ass next time I see you.”

He laughed again. “I’d like to see you try. Luca might have something...” He trailed off and I waited for him to continue. “The only reason I am telling you this is so you hear it from me before anyone else.” I knew whatever he would tell me next, I wouldn’t like. “Luca’s contact informed him that Alphonso Romano has petitioned to transfer all of his niece’s assets to his name.”

“On what grounds?” I barked out. Was this his way of keeping my wife off my radar? Was she his capital, financing his human trafficking business?

“On the grounds of her being deceased. He claims he has evidence of his niece’s death.”

The phone line went quiet and the silence stretched between us. I didn’t expect that response. I refused to believe the possibility of Alphonso speaking the truth. That motherfucker was born with a lie on his lips. Deadly anger simmered through my veins; the hate I felt even deadlier.

“You there, Luciano?”

“Yes,” I responded. “Thanks for heads up. Tell that hooker to keep you busy so you are not calling me in the early morning hours. Later.”

I hung up. There was nothing more to say. I locked eyes on my form in the mirror in my large bathroom. She loved this fucking bathroom, would spend hours soaking in the tub while reading or working on her assignments.

My phone flew through the air, crashing against the mirror, shattering it into a million pieces. The sound echoed against the tile in the bathroom but the hollow silence still remained. I stood in the middle of the mess I just created and all I could see was that last look my wife gave me with those stunning violet blue eyes as a lone frozen tear trickled down her cheek, leaving frost in its wake.

The day I forced her to marry me, to use her as a leverage against her family, there was a lone tear that trickled down her face too. I never bothered asking her what it was for. I was focused on my revenge. I planned on using her as leverage against her family but somehow the entire plan went up in flames. Literal flames with the colors of her red hair and violet blues of her eyes.

The instant I saw her strolling into my nightclub with her friend and my men confirmed who she was, I kidnapped her and we were married within two days. Was it a ‘on the fly’ plan?

Yes, it was.

But fuck it. She was so beautiful; I wanted her and the word on the street was that Alphonso Romano valued his niece, using her for his bargaining chip with Cassio’s father. When I took her, I didn’t have qualms about using her and then discarding her - whether that meant killing her or just shoving her into one of my penthouses to never see her again. The problem was that my wife quickly became my obsession and I decided I’d keep her for good. I couldn’t stand to be away from her for longer periods, constantly craving her.

I finally understood the term hooked. I was her junkie.

Luciano, why are you looking at me like that?I could hear her soft voice echo in my brain.You’re staring.She’d giggle and her eyes would haze with lust. Her response to me was fucking exhilarating. She could deny she wanted me, but her flushed cheeks always gave her away. She’d give me her body, mold into mine, scream my name as I fucked her hard but she refused to break her allegiance to her family. Always holding back and that damn betrayal caught up. It cost me my entire shipment and Cassio’s. She could have cost us our lives - failing suppliers was deadly in our world.

Fuck, no sense in dwelling on it anymore.At least we recouped our losses fast by bringing in another. Somehow the loss of my wife still lingered though.

I headed into my closet and pulled on a pair of workout pants and a white t-shirt. It was pointless to go to bed now. There would be no sleep coming to me tonight.

Chapter Four

Grace

Ifrowned at the email. It was unusual for the Ruthless King to want another transaction so soon. He usually kept to two, three max per month.

This would be his fifth. I re-read his email.

* * *

To:The Ghost

From: Ruthless King

I have another batch.Interested?

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