“Sal…”
Lunging forward, I remind, “You offered to ride his fucking dick, so don’t be getting onto me about something you know nothing about.”
“You are angrier about Durante than Deacon?”
“Yes!” I hiss. “You belong to me.”
“And Deacon?”
“He belongs to me too,” I maintain. “Cruz is a forgivable sin I will take from you any day, but Durante Costa is forbidden.”
“I’m already in his business.”
“I’m aware and unhappy about that bit of intel,” I calmly rebuke with a stern resolve. “You’re making all kinds of waves you aren’t prepared to handle. Cinco is bigger than you estimated, and they will eat Durante while he drains you.”
“You’re exaggerating,” she dismisses with a flick of her fingers. God, she is hot when her Lotus is out. “Durante wants nothing more than a chance.”
“Chances lead to people like Cas running Cinco…”
“She isn’t running Cinco,” she spits.
“You know what I mean,” I correct. “Her influence is great.”
“I will be handling Cas,” she reassures.
My jaw sharpens as I crack my knuckles. “Cas is negotiating with Campanelli and Raniero because all the Cinco resources from the South have been cut off. You want to tell me how exactly you plan on handling one pissed off bitch?”
“… Why?” she questions, unaware and panicking as her solid stare ties a noose to my heart. God, I love her eyes; they mirror my soul. The realization of what I’ve done hits as she mutters, “You’re feeding Cinco to Immortal…”
“Would a street punk like me do something like that?”
Her surprised expression makes months of planning worth it. “Why? What is in it for you?”
“Let me explain something to you,” I sincerely state, tapping my fingers on the table. “Despite your deal with the ships, Cinco was coming after you because of Cas’ instigation, and I won’t stand for anyone threatening that which belongs to me.”
“Lucas…you’re going to start a war…”
“I’ve said it before, and I will say it until you know it,” I declare, making my position known. “There is zero guilt in my conscience when it comes to those I love. You do not fuck with that which belongs to me.”
“That’s Pico’s gang!”
“Pico…and Alejandro, because you like him,” I inform with a cocked brow, “are currently wearing RR cuts and taking seats with the Tennessee Twelve at this exact moment in Sugargrove.”
“Oh, my God…The Brethren,” she whispers. “The Preacher…”
“Morpheus has the money, men, and means to protect Houston,” I say. “And so, does Saint.”
“I asked him to spot me twenty.”
Rolling my eyes, I snicker. “And he told you to hit me up, so are you going to hit me up, Lotus?”
“No,” she replies. “I won’t get in bed with you.”
“I’ve got a good bed, baby. All that and more,” I snicker. “Getting under the sheets with me could be fun.”
“I bought RE with hopes of getting it back for you.”
“And I am fixing Lotus in Asia for you because her legs were damaged from the weather,” I maintain with determination. “She was termite infested and rotting from gross neglect.”
“… You’re giving Lotus new legs?”
“I’m giving her fucking towers, lil girl,” I profess, not letting up. “I’ve got you set from Japan over to my motherland.”
“All the way to Europe?”
I wink. “Contacts all along the route. It’ll be like selling tea, herbs, and silk, just call me your Italian trader. And if you’ll take a cock in your Eti venture, I’ll drop twenty in your panties, but you have to agree to a few things.”
Overwhelmed by the gifts, she takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re doing…”
“Applying for the job.”
She loudly announces, “… Which one?”
“Right-hander, lover, husband, fuck in the middle of the night…or day,” I candidly charm with smirking. “Give it all to me.”
Her eyes skim over mine. “You’re quitting.”
“Took you long enough,” I comment with the truth. “If my boy can drop a cut, I can stop my business expansions. I am bowing out like a proper gentleman, sticking to what I know, staying with The Commission, and taking an advisory position with Cruz.”
“You’ve worked so hard,” she says, blinking back tears. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking—I need you more than I need any of that,” I vow with enough honor to earn praise from her dead relatives. “I’m thinking—I knock your ass up and play Daddy. I’m thinking—I fix up your house. I’m thinking—I do all the things I’ve wanted to do, but something always comes up. I gotta stop chasing someone else’s dream.”
“It was your dream,” she implores on the verge of a breakdown. “You can’t leave the game.”
“No.” I explain, “My dream was to destroy my father. And I’m going to make damn sure my wife feasts on his rotting corpse.”
“… You’re serious.”
“At some point, you need to believe in me, Iris,” I gently criticize, not letting her hands go, despite her pulling away. “You need to be using me as your right-hander, not prostituting yourself out to schmucks like Durante. I’m not perfect. I’ve got plenty of flaws and done a lot of shit wrong. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for everything that happened in Boston, but I need away from my family’s bullshit.”
“You sold your shares,” she points out. “You’re out.”
“There will always be something pulling me back until the patriarch passes, and I refuse to go against you or Cruz. But I’m amazing at this game,” I arrogantly boast. “You should consider my offer and let me help you.”
“You doubt my ability to do it on my own.”
“No,” I sincerely say. “I am trying my damndest to protect you, but you are making that increasingly difficult. You’ve got this thing with Durante. You’ve got Etienne. You’ve got Morpheus, the Brethren, and Saint. And for some godforsaken reason, you moved a good number of your men to Chicago and Boston, so why don’t you, Ms. Nakamura, tell me what the fuck you are doing?”
“Am I talking to my right-hander or my future husband who is the one to watch in The Commission?”
“All of the above,” I note with a grin. “Because I can only guard the gate if it stops bouncing. I cannot defend your interests if you keep skirting all over the place. Let me lead.”
Her eyes dampen. “You always see through me.”
“I always will,” I confidently assure. “Stop thinking I’m going to use you, or hurt you, or take away your Lotus. Drop your fucking walls and let me in.”
“You’ll try and stop me.”
“God, no!” I insist, compelling her to listen to me. “Iris, no! I will kneel at your side and let you navigate our way, but I need to lead you into battle. If someone is coming after you, I gotta know that kinda shit so I can deflect it.”
“What are you doing, Mr. Hot Shit?”
“I’m working Juliet, Thread, and H2.”
Her brow tightens. “… Is that all?”
“I’m keeping Unholy stable,” I say, fearing nothing, “which isn’t easy in the current climate.”
With a slight smirk, she snickers, “Getting humid in the South, Sal?”
“You could say that.”
“… Is that it?”
“I’m going for six months,” I inform with a blink as her mouth falls open. “Europe.”
“… The Nero offered?” she quietly mouths.
I proudly nod.
“Jesus,” she mutters, sighing as the dampness in her eyes no doubt reflects the current state between her thighs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not every day you have a guy like me offering to hold you up on a pedestal.”
Her eyes fill with lust. “… Can we go to your
room, please?”
“I already checked out,” I say, smirking. “We can go to yours.”
She shakes her head. “We can’t. Rowan is there.”
My eyes widen as I blurt out, “… What?”
“Something about keeping your friends close,” she replies, grinning. “And the bitches looking to stab you in the back closer.”
“What is going on with you and Rowan?”
“Aside from the fact that she rivals your ability to eat tacos?”
Shaking my head, I cackle, “God, I adore you!” Her smile fills every inch of me with pure joy. “You’re so bad!”
I stand and pull her chair out. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace else,” I mutter as she clings to my arm. We walk through the lobby as her cronies rearrange themselves to follow us. “Call them off.”
“… Who?”
“Your Lotus goons.”
“No one knows I’m here, Sal,” she whispers. “I came incognito to Japan. I even flew commercial.”
“Then trust me when I say we need to get you out of here right the fuck now.”
Her grip on my arm frantically tightens. “I didn’t bring a car.”
“It’s okay,” I say with urgency. “I did.”
Stepping out to the circular, lavishly decorated drive, I spot the car sitting like eye candy at the end of the curve. I point at the valet, and he tosses the keys to me.
She whispers, “You rented a Ferrari?”
“No, Masa did,” I say, handing the keys to Iris. “He left it with me.”
“He’s so bloody vain,” she snaps as I chuckle. “… I’m driving?”
“You’re very good at it,” I praise, swinging open her door and sprinting around to the passenger seat. “Go!”
She hits the gas as I look over my shoulder. Pulling away from the hotel, she asks, “How did you know?”
“I’m good.”
“No shit!” she boasts, entering the freeway. “You’re so much better than me.”
In the sports car, we’re close together, shoulder to shoulder, and I find myself distracted by her porcelain skin and perfect features. Touching a loose strand of her hair, I whisper, “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving you,” she huffs with the surge of adrenaline. “I just like fucking with Sal Raniero, the mobster.”
I grin. “I’m yours for the fucking baby. I’m just leaving the big board.”
“If you’re running the four peaks, you aren’t leaving the big game. You’re just playing a dirty hand under the table.”
“Who could do it better?” I rhetorically ask, dropping my hand to her thigh. “And I don’t have H2 or L’Académie yet.”
“I bought Les Pétales.”
“Okay,” I chirp, correcting myself. “I don’t have H2.”
I turn to scan over the cars as she grins. “Apparently, I need you as a bodyguard.”
“I can do that too,” I cockily say as she veers off the highway. “Where are you going?”
“Get in my purse,” she asks without missing a beat. “In my wallet, there is a solid black card.”
Spotting the gun, I briefly cringe at the notion of my girl needing such and hand over the card as she pulls up to the garage door. “What is this?”
She punches in a code and scans the card. “Lotus owns the building.”
I idly observe, “This needs better security.”
“Thanks,” she says, flipping the card back to me. We pass through several gates as she speeds up the ramp of the multi-story warehouse. “We use it for overflow. Kind of like those sixteen warehouses you’ve got shipping crates in.”
“Those are yours,” I mutter. “Call it a reverse dowry for marrying my stupid ass.”
“… Mine?”
“Yeah,” I say as she reaches the top, stopping in front of another garage door. She hits the large red button and waits for the slow ass thing to open by bopping along to some Japanese techno beat on the radio. “All yours.”
Peering over, she asks, “What?”
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper. “I’m not giving you up even though you are avoiding acknowledging my present.”
“You seem to think I will just let you borrow my L’Académie and my Les Pétales.”
The top floor is empty except for a few stacks of old pallets. She whips the car over by the wall and scurries out of the vehicle as I exit and light a smoke. “What are we doing?”
“Being completely alone.”
“Are you going to kill me now?”
“I’ve got Amber in Etienne, Nero the Black,” she seductively alleges. Nero the Black—fuck that is sexy. “And when you are ready for her, she is yours.”
“… Amber is in Etienne?”
“She thinks she is my right-hander,” she cites. “And I also have Serene who funded the shooting at the church. I’ve got an entire team working on finding Soryn. And Cas will be going down in a matter of weeks.”
“You brought me to a private Lotus garage to tell me this?”
“Yes,” she says, smiling. “I did.”
“Do you need your gun?”
Unbuttoning her jacket, she grins. “No, I need your gun, Sir.”
“You know we could’ve checked into the nicest Presidential suite in the city, or even paid by the hour at a love hotel,” I comment as she throws her jacket on the hood of the car and stalks closer. The sight of her breasts and taut nipples make my mouth water. “Or you know, sketchy, remote parking garage always gives me a boner.”
She leaps up into arms. I brace her bottom with my left forearm and wonder if I’ll ever get accustomed to the new Iris. I hope not. She tugs my right wrist up and takes a drag from my cigarette. “You won’t tell me no.”
“You’re right,” I agree. “I don’t have that in me. Which part got you so turned on—the I am leaving the game, or I am going to torture souls for six months?”
“The part where you didn’t question Rowan or my recent indiscretions,” she says. “But I don’t want Hannah.”
“No, that’s me.”
“Why do you want Hannah on your dick so bad?”
“I don’t know that I do now,” I honestly admit. “She’s just young and knows so much. I find it odd.”
“You were sixteen and in the clubs,” she says, nuzzling my neck. “You knew what you wanted.”
“But I wasn’t a girl,” I say as she drops her legs from my waist, and I set her down. “I’ll figure out what to do with her.”
“You can spank her all you want, but if you put my dick in her, I will split her in two.”
“Your dick, huh?” I stick my tongue out. “Sounds like medieval torture for Hannah.”
“Saws, baby. Saws.” She winks, kneeling, and unzipping my slacks. She intently stares. “God, I missed you.”
“You have no idea.”
“Did Hannah suck my dick?”
“Ya,” I confess, knowing the lies won’t get us anywhere. Her fingers grip around the shaft, and she gently scrapes her nails over the smooth velvet flesh. “Not quite like this.”
“She doesn’t know you as I know you.”
“That’s really nice,” I mumble, taking the last drag and plucking the butt as she sucks my cock like I’m the greatest motherfucker ever. My hands drift to her messy hair, and I make it even more so as her lips restore my faith in our ability to conquer love. It is a separate entity—needing attention all its own. We must nurture love. “Jesus, I want you on my dick, lil girl.”
She stops and glances up. “Why do I hear a but?”
“I made a promise to myself.”
“And your new vows of chastity include me?”
“Not necessarily,” I contend, offering her my hands to help her stand. “But I won’t just fuck you to get off anymore. You’re more than a cum dumpster.”
“Holy shit!” Her tears come on strong. “Deacon wasn’t kidding.”
“No,” I say. “Your indiscretion, as you say, was the be
st thing that ever happened to me.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” I reply. “We all let shit harm this, and I won’t let that happen again.”
“Your focus is terrifying, Salvatore,” she comments. “And I don’t mean that in a bad way. You’re immovable.”
“I am,” I say, propping against the hood as she wedges between my legs. I glance down at my dick. “He and I had some long conversations.”
“And what did he say?”
“He says he loves your pussy,” I reply with a grin. “And anyone else is just a bad substitute, a lousy imitation, and reckless for my brain matter.”
“… Even Hannah?”
“I didn’t bang Skeet because she wouldn’t commit, and I knew when she wouldn’t, either you or Cruz sent her over to lick my wounds,” I say. “And to test my tenacity.”
“She would’ve committed,” she whispers. “He told her not to?”
I nod. “But Skeet doesn’t want what I’m offering. She wants a Master.”
“And what are you offering?”
“A husband.”
“Hmm,” she says. “It just so happens that I’m in the market of losing my last name, but there are some stipulations.”
“Such as?”
Her eyes dance as we play. “He has to make me laugh.”
“… Is that first?”
“Oh, yes!” she contends with a smirk. “I must be properly entertained. He should be a charming gentleman and capable of taking what he wants without any hesitation.”
“… Like I did in Boston?”
“Minus the hypos,” she says with a small shrug. “We don’t hypo or hyphen anything around here.”
Licking my lips, I laugh. “No, Nakamura-Raniero?”
“Fuck, no!” She bosses, “I’ve paid for a pure Raniero cut, and I expect to get it.”
“You sure fucking have, Angel.” I shrug off my jacket and pull her closer. “I want to die in your arms.”
“God, that’s miserable.”
“It’s the truth,” I whisper as my fingers undo her pants. “I want a lifetime of memories with you by my side.”
“Are you about to break your vow?”
“Yes.” The loose fabric drops to her feet. “With the most beautiful girl in the world.” She kicks out of them. “Can you leave the shoes on, though? Cause they’re hot as fuck.”
Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4) Page 69
