Cruel Prince: A Dark Mafia Romance (Varasso Brothers Book 2)

by Sophia Reed

  I could live with that.

  Part of the reason I’d agreed to this, too, had to do with what they’d done. A year ago they’d blasted into our home and killed Angelo in cold blood, and I had yet to forgive them for that. If I could make them pay, even if that payment wouldn’t come due for a while, I’d feel better.

  No one should ever be allowed to make fools of the Varassos, and as much as I used to love instant gratification, delayed gratification had its charms, too. Maybe revenge really would be a dish best served cold.

  With that unexpected interruption over with, I departed the bistro and went to a local grocery store. I collected a bouquet full of daisies, roses, and carnations, two large cans of chicken noodle soup, a two liter of ginger ale, and a box of saltine crackers.

  Time to pay Kelly a visit.

  15

  Kelly

  I was pathetic, and I knew it. But I couldn’t face the outside world—Marco, in particular—after the way David had looked at me. For half an hour’s worth of pleasure, I’d traded my brother’s respect and then neglected the care of my mom. I felt like the worst sister and daughter on the planet.

  So now, I sat by my mother’s bedside, waiting for her to wake up.

  When she did, I’d get her whatever she needed. And when tomorrow came, I’d figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I didn’t want to give up my job, but I doubted I’d have much of a choice.

  David would do his dead level best to bring charges against Marco, possibly jeopardizing his law enforcement career in the process. And Marco probably wouldn’t want to keep an employee around when her brother was so intent on throwing him in the slammer.

  What a mess.

  I don’t know why I’d thought I could change. This had been my existence for as long as I could remember. When I’d been younger, it’d been school and taking care of my mom. Then, as I’d gotten older, it’d been school, work, and taking care of my mom. Now, at least I didn’t have school.

  My main problem was if I couldn’t keep my high-paying job, my family’s finances would go right back to being a disaster. Dad didn’t make enough to cover rent and the basic utility bills, and that excluded all of my mom’s medical expenses. That’s why David and I had gone to work so young. It’s why we’d each contributed.

  To leave my parents out here in the world alone would spell their ruin. I couldn’t do that.

  Still, as guilty as I felt about letting my mom’s care go this morning, I didn’t regret what I’d shared with Marco. It’d been so lovely. I’d never even touched myself that way—Mom made it sound so wrong—but with Marco it didn’t feel wrong at all. At least I’d had the opportunity to experience what ecstasy felt like.

  Even if all that was over now, which it was.

  Mom probably wouldn’t wake for a few more hours, but I felt like her seeing me once she woke would make up for earlier. So I sat at her bedside in my sweatpants and hoodie, mindlessly flipping through the catalogues that came free in the mail. I still had the nest egg I’d been saving, so it’d be a few months before the bills caught up to me again.

  Maybe by then, I’d be able to find another job.

  Something told me that getting paid as well as I did right now was unlikely, though. When the doorbell rang, my mom didn’t so much as stir, so I went to answer it. The only people who ever came by other than Chloe and Laura were the maintenance men who replaced filters in the apartment. And since my friends were at work, that must mean a filter needed to be changed out somewhere.

  I looked through the peephole even though it was broad daylight—it always paid to be safe rather than sorry—only to be shocked at who stood on the other side.

  “Marco? What are you doing here?”

  “Heard you were sick,” he said, his arms holding a paper bag. “May I come in?”

  “Um… Okay.” I made room for him, and he entered, glancing around him in interest.

  “The kitchen through here?” he asked, pointing in the correct direction. The apartment was tiny so even if he made a wrong turn, he’d find it soon enough.

  “Yeah. What are you doing?”

  “Hopefully, I’ll make you feel better,” he said, a mischievous look on his face. He was thinking about last night, I could tell. And now, so was I. “So you don’t have to tell me, but you could give me a clue. Is this the sort of sick that involves sinus stuff or stomach stuff?”

  My stomach had been tied in knots for hours and hours, so even though I wasn’t technically ill, I pointed at my abdomen in response. The knots had relaxed a little now that he was here. They’d metamorphized into a dozen butterflies swooping around inside it instead.

  “Good, I can fix that.”

  “You can fix it?” I asked, doubtfully.

  “Yep,” he said cheerfully, using the can opener installed under one of our cabinets to open a can of soup. The brand was the expensive kind I never bought. He paused long enough to pull out a chair at our kitchen table. “Shouldn’t you be off your feet?”

  I sat, awestruck by what he was doing. Here was this man in a fancy suit making me soup in my delipidated kitchen. This man who’d increased my salary and done nothing but wonderful things for me. This man who’d held me when I’d cried. This man who’d made me feel heights of bliss I hadn’t previously known were possible.

  And now this.

  I couldn’t remember the last person who’d spoiled me like Marco. I wasn’t sure anyone ever had. He searched the cupboards until he found a plastic bowl and poured the soup in, placing it into the microwave. While the soup heated up, he retrieved some ice trays from the freezer and filled a glass with ginger ale.

  He’d brought a bouquet of flowers which he’d left in the sink, and when he didn’t find a vase, he simply arranged them in a tall glass. He set it in the middle of the table, making it into a centerpiece.

  “You brought me flowers, too?” I asked him, at a complete loss. His response came in one of his warm smiles.

  When the soup was ready, he asked, “Crackers?” And when I nodded, he crunched some up, found a clean spoon in a drawer, and placed it in front me. “Bon appetite.” Then, he prepared the same thing for himself and joined me. “It going down okay?”

  I nodded again, even though I had yet to take a bite. I was so flabbergasted by Marco’s actions, I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t believe how sweet he was being. When we were partway through the meal, I screwed up my courage and asked, “You do this often?”

  He took a drink. “Do what?”

  “Take time off work to come pamper one of your employees.”

  “Sure.”

  I blinked. “Oh.”

  He smiled at me, tickling the underside of my arm. “I’m kidding. This is the first time.”

  “So you’re doing this just for me?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?” I asked him, absolutely baffled.

  “Because you deserve it.”

  I frowned at him.

  “You had a bad day yesterday,” he added. “And now you’re sick. Making sure you’re all right is the least I can do.”

  Right then I felt something akin to melting around the area of my heart. It was a sensation I’d never felt before. It reminded me of what it felt like to watch a mama bear defending her young, kittens nuzzling their owner’s cheek, and puppies tumbling over one another as they played. It filled me up from head to toe, and before I was even aware I was doing it, I’d sat on his lap and kissed him.

  He kissed me back, but it wasn’t the impassioned go-up-in-flames kind he’d given me last night. It was tender. Fleeting. Like a kiss goodnight.

  “You look almost ridiculously adorable in that hoodie of yours,” he said, tugging at the drawstring along the neck with what I was beginning to think of as his signature smirk. “Though I guess I’m already doomed if whatever you have is catching.”

  “Well, I’m afraid whatever cooties I have, you have them now, too.”

  “Cooties?” he chuckled, hi
s eyes wide in surprise. “Is that really a thing?”

  “Yeah. Like germs. Like when you’re in elementary school and all the boys have cooties? I’m sure if you’re a boy, it’s the girls who have cooties instead.”

  “Good to know. I never went to school,” he said, as if this were normal.

  “You use awfully proper English for someone so uneducated.”

  “Oh, I’m educated. I just grew up with tutors. My brothers and I all did. I was always curious about school, though. I’m actually kind of jealous that you got to go.”

  “You had these expensive tutors and I went through the Philadelphia public school system, and you’re jealous of me? Wow,” I said, laughing.

  “I guess we all want what we didn’t have,” he said, some of the lightness leaving his eyes. “Or what we can’t have.” He took a deep breath as if resetting himself. “Did this help? Are you feeling better now?”

  His inquiry reminded me of all the things I’d been worrying about, all the things that his unanticipated arrival had made fly right out of my head. “Marco, look. I should tell you. David and I…” How did I explain this? “We had sort of a spat this morning. Well, I guess it was more than a spat.”

  “What did he do?” He kept his face neutral, but his tone had become pure venom.

  “Nothing. He’s not like that. He’s not abusive or anything. We’re actually really close. But he’s my big brother, you know? He’s protective of me. Maybe even overprotective. And when you came up as the topic of discussion, he got angry.”

  Marco went totally stationary. Motionless.

  “He’s just so sure that you’re,” I grimaced. “Dangerous. He’s still convinced that you’re this big, bad mobster guy. A criminal. I kept telling him that wasn’t true, but he doesn’t believe me. And last night was so amazing, but I slept late. My mom was feeling bad, but I failed to take care of her, so he had to.”

  “Then,” I went on, “somehow, even though I didn’t tell him anything, he figured out that we… Well, he thinks we did more than we did, but—” He put out a hand, palm up.

  “First of all, what we do or don’t do is none of your brother’s business,” Marco said, making me feel horrible.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t tell him…”

  “Let me finish,” he said, taking back the reins. “I’m not accusing you of anything. What I’m saying is that you’re a grown woman, Kelly. You make your own choices and your own decisions. I enjoyed our time together last night, and if your brother wants to come knocking on my door, that’s his prerogative. But I don’t live my life based on his opinions.”

  “I want to be with you, and while I know you can take care of yourself, I’d like you to let me take care of you, too, when you need it,” he continued. “If that’s not going to sit well with you, I’ll accept it. But I’m done pretending I don’t desire you. I can’t do it anymore. I’d like to take more steps forward with you, and I’m open to whatever you think those steps should be.”

  He pushed my hair behind my ear. “If you don’t want to repeat what we did last night, I’ll understand. If you don’t want me to come over here again, I’ll understand that, too. But don’t make it about your brother. Make it about you. Hell, I’ll even sell Organic Eats and leave you alone if that’s what you really want. But only if that’s what you want, okay?”

  “But what if what I want scares me?” I asked him, feeling desperate now.

  “Then you have to decide what scares you more,” he answered, his dark eyes fathomless. “Getting what you want. Or not getting it.”

  With that he shifted, and I pushed myself off his lap. He stood, leaned over and kissed the top of my head. Then he gathered his coat and left, quietly shutting the door behind him.

  16

  Marco

  I’d made it halfway across the pathetic little patch of brown grass that served as the Carr’s lawn when Kelly caught up to me.

  “Marco, I…” she paused, her face a picture of indecision.

  I may not like that she felt obligated to follow the dictates of her family—especially her brother’s demands—but I understood. In a way, I’d done the same. When he’d been alive, many of my decisions had been at the behest of my father. Being a Varasso had always meant parts of my life had been mandated, set in stone.

  But I hadn’t walked away because she might choose her family over me.

  I walked away because this was a decision she must make on her own, without me influencing her. I didn’t want her to feel like I’d guilted or manipulated her in any way. Most of all, I didn’t want to hurt her. While I could live with disappointment or worse, I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I’d hurt her. Even inadvertently.

  And perhaps, being here where her brother might pop in at any moment might not be optimal, either. Not that I feared him or any of the law enforcement community. We knew ways to sidestep the local police and had inroads into the court system here in Philadelphia if needed. But dealing with him would be a hassle. And I wasn’t in the mood.

  So, I calmly stood there beside my Audi waiting to see what Kelly had to say.

  She’d shoved some tennis shoes on her feet without tying the laces and had thrown on a jacket to stave off the frigid temperatures, her breath crystallizing in the air. I’d been with untold numbers of women who wore the most provocative, skin-tight, titillating attire possible, and yet none of them turned me on half as much as this woman did in her cute pink hoodie and sweats.

  Christ.

  And then she threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my body like a blanket as she locked her lips to mine. I wasn’t sure what it was about her kisses—it’s not like she had special skill or expertise in this area—but every time our lips met, it was like drowning in the best possible way.

  Any foolish hope I might’ve had of keeping whatever this was between us on the surface had disappeared.

  I’d already gone under.

  Being such a petite little thing, Kelly was easy to lift into my arms, and I did, pulling her up until she laced her legs around my waist. I breathed her in, knowing full well now that she’d never been sick in the first place, and relished the sensation of having her so close again.

  I took her to my car and deposited her into the leather passenger seat, then hurried over to hop behind the steering wheel. The instant I did, her hands reached for me, gliding up and down my thigh. She was growing bolder and bolder.

  “Don’t forget your seatbelt,” I told her, hoping to preoccupy her for a second. But even after clicking it on, she continued to slide her hands over me.

  As I eased out of the parking lot, I called one of my contacts at the Dwight D, a five-star hotel on 16th Street, using the hands-free system my Quattro provided for safety’s sake. What Kelly was doing to me was distraction enough.

  “Vinnie, it’s Marco Varasso.”

  “Hey, my man. What can I do ya for?”

  “Need some private accommodations,” I ground out, as Kelly leaned across the console and pressed her mouth to my neck.

  “Got just the thing. It’ll be ready when you get here.”

  The trip across town tested all my driving skill, particularly since my passenger seemed bound and determined to push me past my limits. As I made a turn, she took a finger and outlined the arousal making my pants tight, nearly making me run up onto the median and take out a street sign.

  Sweet Christ.

  “Baby, you’re going to make me wreck the damn car.”

  Thankful beyond belief to arrive at the hotel, I got out and opened the passenger side for Kelly. I found Vinnie waving us over to the Cottage Suite, a detached residence still technically considered part of the hotel. At that point, I didn’t care if it was part of a circus tent as long as it removed us from public viewing.

  Remembering the stash of necessities I’d left in the glove box, I tossed a handful into my pocket and led Kelly toward the entrance. Throwing Vinnie a wad of cash in gratitude, I led Kelly inside
. The place was as luxurious as I’d expected, but I had eyes only for the woman at my side.

  She’d stopped groping me as soon as we’d stepped out of my Audi, but she still held my hand as she took in her surroundings. “This place is amazing,” she exclaimed, her features a bit stunned.

  “You’re the one who’s amazing.” I tipped up her chin, staring into those brilliant green eyes of hers. She stared back and something passed between us that hadn’t up till then, a resonance, an understanding that needed no words.

  For all the inflamed eagerness she’d displayed on the way here, now she seemed content to move more slowly as she pulled me over to the sofa hugging one wall of the living space. She suckled along my Adam’s apple, dragging the edge of her teeth along my skin for the first time, and though I’d planned to let her set the pace, the feel of her nibbling at me like this almost did me in.

  I pushed back the fleece fabric of her hoodie, exposing her long caramel hair. Weaving my hands into it, I kissed her long and deep, tasting her and letting her taste me. Needing to experience the vision of her nude body again, I removed her jacket, then pulled the sweatshirt over her head, delighted to find her without a bra.

  “I didn’t think I’d be leaving home today,” she explained, looking abashed, but I didn’t care about why she had on less clothing. I was simply thrilled to be the beneficiary.

  Nudging her backwards, I took her left breast into my mouth, then the right, feeling the nipples pucker under my tongue as I did. She made a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh, and the sound drove my own desire to greater heights.

  I had a few concerns now. I hadn’t been with anyone in a year. That, coupled with the memory of what I’d done to Kelly last night, meant my ability to hold back and control my reactions had been compromised. I didn’t know how long I could put off the inevitable, but I had to find the strength somehow.