Page 13 of Nico (Belles & Mobsters 2)

The world of Nico Morrelli and the mafia was a step closer to Benito King. If he came after the girls for his fucked up arrangements and I was dead, William's parents couldn’t protect them. They knew nothing about it. My mother would try to protect them, but she had sacrificed so much already.

Benito King deserved to die.

ChapterFive

NICO

Avase flew through the air and crashed behind Luciano, sending pieces of it flying all around. Cassio was lucky he ducked when he did; otherwise, he might have gotten hit in the back of his head.

This must be Luciano’s wife, I mused silently.

He had been searching for her for over three years, and I could finally understand why. The woman was a beauty with that ginger red hair and indigo blue eyes that burned with anger as she glared at her husband.

But there was chemistry there too. Enough to set this room on fire. I would definitely not remain in it while those two burned the house down though.

“I hate your fucking guts,” she hissed. And this was the reason I didn’t believe in marriage, unless it was a business arrangement. The honeymoon period ended way too quickly, and it left you with a lifetime of regrets and arguing.

“Wife, these are my friends. Cassio, Luca, Alessandro, and Nico. Let’s leave family drama for later and say hi to them.”

None of us bothered to look away, watching the exchange with interest. We never pretended to be decent men. We were fucking mobsters and lived up to the name. We were sinners, through and through. Maybe not as fucked up as Benito King but sinners nonetheless.

To Luciano’s wife's credit, she never even spared us a glance. I always liked a woman with a backbone. Bianca Carter’s image flashed in my mind. I couldn’t wait to sink into that delicious body that I couldn’t stop thinking about from the moment her luscious ass backed into me at the restaurant.

The revenge would be sweet.

“I don’t give a damn about your friends, Luciano,” she spat out in disgust. “Any friends of yours are enemies of mine.”

He was on his feet in the blink of an eye, hovering over her. It didn’t escape me that he was sporting a hard on, something I would have to work at unseeing for the rest of my life.

“Now, Grace. We don’t want to be rude to our guests. Be a good wife and say hi.” I had to stifle a laugh. Luciano would have his hands full. I had never seen the ruthless banker of the underworld lose his shit like this before.

No wonder the Romano belles fetched the highest price in the Belles and Mobsters auctions. If her ancestors were anything like her!

“No.”

“Do I need to take you outside and put you across my knees?”

“Fuck. You. Husband.”

I swore those two enjoyed bickering. Like some kind of a damn foreplay. It didn’t bode well for either one of them, because they would both succumb to their attraction. There was no question about it.

“We’ll do that later,” he told her softly. His voice was threatening, and I was surprised his wife seemed to only rise to the threat.

“You can do that later by yourself. I want my own room.”

“No.”

Their voices lowered, and I thanked all the saints. There were certain things I really didn’t need to know about my friends. I’d go to war with them, fight alongside them, kill alongside them, but their sex life, I’d prefer not to know about.

“Oh, great!” Luca, Cassio’s younger brother muttered. “Luciano is taking a fuck break.”

“You are just jealous you don’t get a fuck break,” I smirked. He flipped me the bird, and I laughed because he knew I was right.

The next moment a soft moan traveled over and proved Luca’s words right. I guess Luciano couldn't make it to their bedroom.

“Jesus, I’m gonna need a drink to get through these noises,” Alessio grunted, although his lips slightly tilted up into a smirk. He rarely smiled, not that I blamed him. His father was one fucked up man that put his eldest son through some serious shit.

He went to the little mini bar stocked up with Luciano’s favorite alcohol. I joined him and poured myself a stiff one. If Luciano decided to pleasure his woman the entire night, we'd have to pick this conversation back up tomorrow. Maybe the rest of us could resort to spending the night drinking.

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