My brows give a little wiggle to accentuate my flirting.
“Mmm,” he hums deeply as he walks toward the desk. “You wanna be the boss?”
The way he looks at me. Fuck. Like he’s stripping me bare down to exactly where he wants me—it makes every part of my body light up.
“Yeah,” I purr, rubbing my crossed ankle up my other leg slowly and then back down.
Dante sits against the desk, pressing a finger against the paper I’m tracing, and pulls it until it’s too far for me to touch. He pulls it up, folding and putting it in his pocket.
“What would you order first? And remember, you have to be specific or shit gets lost in translation.”
He might be letting me take the reins, but we both know that in this game, Dante always runs the show. Just the way I like it.
“Take off your shirt,” I direct, tilting my head and biting my lip.
He reaches over his shoulder and drags the T-shirt off his body, smirking as he does, and tosses it onto the chair next to him.
Fuck, he really is gorgeous. My eyes take in all the colorful swirls and patterns on his hard chest and arms. His body alone is intimidating, but it’s the accessory to his intention. That’s what really makes him the man he is.
“You like what you see,” he states, appreciating the compliment my eyes are giving him.
“I was just thinking that tattoos make good men look dangerous.”
His head lifts as his thumb skims across his lip. “I am fucking dangerous. So, what do they make me?”
“Authentic?” I grin, as he nods, letting out a half laugh.
His eyes lock with mine, and it’s as if everything fades away around us. All the pretense and sarcasm, all the bullshit. It’s just me and him, both wanting the same damn thing from each other.
Dante licks his bottom lip, and I watch his tongue glide across, wishing I felt that on my body.
“You gonna look at me all day, Billy…or are we gonna fuck?” The roughness in his voice hits just the right button.
I uncross my legs, letting one slide away from the desk, and leave my legs spread apart. “Why don’t you make good on your threat from earlier and stop wasting my time with all this foreplay.”
I swear it’s admiration I see in his eyes before he does exactly what he promised.
I SWEAR I CAN STILL taste her on my lips, like fucking honey. My tongue darts out past the seam of my lips when the thought passes through my mind as I relax into my seat in the back of the SUV. The car switches lanes through traffic as I pull my phone out and dial Sarah.
She’s displeased that I left her behind today—at least that’s what I gathered when she told me to “go take a stroll in heavy traffic.” But bringing her with me wasn’t an option.
The call goes to voicemail after a few rings, making me crack my neck, trying to relieve my irritation at being ignored.
I hit Matteo’s information, since he’s her designated babysitter, or at least the only one she doesn’t try to stab or punch.
“Hey, boss,” he answers on the first ring.
“Give her the phone.”
The line is silent as I assume he’s handing it over to her.
“Dante,” she answers in her sexy little rasp, as if she expected my call.
I laugh silently, picturing her expression. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“Because it’s off.” She half laughs.
I can’t help but join in. “You’re fucking terrible, you know that?”
But she’s crawled under my skin. She’s stubborn and unreasonable. She’s fucking infuriating and seems to find joy in making my blood boil.
And I like it.
“Go get it, Billy.”
She cuts me off quickly before I finish. “Jesus Christ, Dante. Fine. Is that all? What do you want? Are you calling to tell me all about the outside world…just to rub it in?”
“You’re safer in the house. The end,” I grit out, unwilling to fucking talk about this.
“Bullshit,” she spits. “You just don’t want me to tell everyone what a tyrant you are.”
I laugh loudly at her accusation. She’s never seen my worst, and I hope she never has to because this girl is quickly becoming one of my favorite people.
“Sweetheart, they know. It’s not a secret. But there’s shit going down you can’t be around for.” I smooth my slacks, imagining her in a tiny lace string and how enjoyable it’ll be to have a glass of whiskey while she rides my cock. “So settle down and put something on I’ll like for later.”
I hear Sarah take a deep breath before her voice fills the line, eerily calm. “You have completely forgotten who you’re speaking to. You will fuck only yourself from this point on. And whatever the fuck is going down at family dinner that I can’t be around for better never show her damn face while I’m here.”
The line dies, and I place the phone down on the seat next to me, picking it up to call back but putting it back down just as fast. A small laugh escapes my throat.
She thinks I’m seeing another woman. Sarah just got jealous, really fucking jealous. I don’t think my dick has ever been this hard.
Fuck.
My car slows, a horn honking in the background, pulling me from my thoughts. We’ve stopped in front of a small florist shop in downtown Chicago. The minute I’m back in the present, my shoulders tense and all the humor from my conversation dies.
“We’re here, boss.”
I come every week to the bricked building on this busy street, usually on autopilot. It’s a necessary chore—the duty of a doting son.
But I hate this fucking place because it reminds me where I have to go next.
I step out the moment my car door opens and scan the sidewalk, before closing my suit jacket and buttoning it to guard me from the chill in the air.
The clerk perks up as I step through the entrance and motions to the dark pink peonies on the counter.
“We’ve got them ready, Mr. Sovrano.”
I nod, walking over and accepting the butcher-paper-wrapped bundle, tossing a twenty on the counter. “I won’t be here next week. But the week after we’ll resume.”
“Absolutely, sir,” he responds and jots down a note to himself on the pad in front of him.
I turn to the door, and my eyes are drawn to a case filled with roses, all varieties of colors, the petals slightly dewy from the water that’s been sprayed on them.
“Would you like to add to your order, sir?” the clerk questions.
Would I?
I could send Sarah the whole fucking case and watch her roll her eyes at my outrageous behavior. Pretend she hates them, then watch the smile brighten on her face as I tell her that I’d do it every damn day if it meant she’d be that happy again.
I could, but since she’s pretending to hate me…
My eyes linger on them for another moment before I shake my head, breaking my focus. “No. Just what I have.”
My driver pulls the door open, and I walk out, the tiny bell dinging again as I do.
“I got it,” I say, grabbing the door handle and opening it.
Sliding in, I settle into the back of my SUV, placing the bouquet next to me in the empty seat. I look out of the window and catch my reflection, seeing the grin on my face. I’ve never wanted to buy a woman flowers. Ever.
And this pistol makes me want to buy the store.
My head shifts, and I let out a half laugh as I lean in toward the driver.
“Take me to my mother.”
He nods as the car comes to life, and we slowly pull out into traffic. I undo the button of my suit jacket and reach into the inside pocket to retrieve my cell.
I hit the number and place it against my ear.
“Boss,” Antonio greets.
“Did we verify?”
“We did. It’s them. Her dad and brother. Dante, they’re the lowest forms of fucking scumbags…the shit we’ve heard. È orribile. It’s gonna make you lose it. But they’re here,
in Chicago, about a block from her place.”
My fist strains against itself, making my knuckles white. What kind of men hunt their own flesh and blood? Unless she betrayed them…turned on them.
The idea gives me pause. Sarah’s definitely running because she’s afraid, but until now, I never considered it’s something she’s due.
No. I throw the idea away the minute it enters my mind. Because I don’t care if it is something she deserves—nobody touches her.
“Send Nico and some of the other guys to have a friendly chat.”
By friendly, I mean for them to break bones and jaws, knock out teeth, and take their dignity.
“You want them gone?” Antonio questions seriously.
He’s not asking me if I want them to be given plane tickets—he’s asking if I want their lives. I hear the train run by him on his end, and I take that opportunity to answer, just in case it’s not just us listening.
“Send them back to Boston. I don’t think after a chat they’ll be back. But if the boys feel it necessary to send them somewhere further, then I’m more than happy to front the ticket.”
I hear him chuckle before he answers, “Perfetto.”
“Hey,” I add, “not a word to Sarah.”
“Of course. One more thing. We did find the guy who they used to track her down. He was showing her picture around, asking if anyone knew her. What do you want us to do with him?”
“Bring him to the space. And tell Matteo to ask Sarah about her family…she trusts him, she might talk. We need to know more.” Before I hang up, I add, “Antonio. When you grab our new friend…I need his jaw working in order for him to speak.”
“I’ll do my best.” He laughs darkly.
I hang up just as we pull up to my destination. The car slows into the entrance, winding along the smoothly paved road flanked by oak trees. My mind wanders thinking of the last time I spoke with my mother.
The car turns, taking another road that leads down to a grassy area where a brook runs. We slow to a stop, and I exit, taking in a deep breath and exhaling, before reaching back in for the flowers.
It’s the same each week. I hate coming. Despise remembering.
But then, I walk the thirty-seven steps past the stone-and-marble gravestones etched with the names of people lost and show my respects to the woman who gave me life but ended her own.
I run my hand over the white, cold stone, brushing away a few small leaves, and pull her flowers from last week out of the vase, replacing them with the new ones.
“Ciao, mamma. Ho portato i tuoi fiori preferiti. Non come la signora nella tomba accanto a te … i suoi figli le hanno portato un mazzo di garofani. Roba da due soldi. Solo il meglio per te.” Hi, Mom. I brought you your favorites. Not like the lady a few down…her kids bring carnations. Cheap. Only the best for you.
I laugh sadly as the words come out, thinking how pleased she’d be to have the fanciest gravestone with all the best flowers and how much I wished I could have saved her from the dirt that buries her body.
I inhale in quick succession on my forgotten cigar. “You guys are like a bunch of chicks. I’m not telling you shit.”
My brothers and I are seated outside on the patio, drinking the smoothest scotch and enjoying cigars. Family dinner is a ritual, and we abide by it every Sunday. It’s a “have to” amongst us, but it’s also a “want to.”
It’s one of the few times in my life when I can let down my guard and just be the man I am.
Luca tosses the same half-eaten roll at me, hitting my bad shoulder.
“Dick,” I growl, rolling my shoulder. “I’m gonna choke you to death. With my bare hands.”
Luca’s eyes are filled with amusement as he leans forward. “Good luck with that, cripple. Listen, you don’t want to tell us the good stuff? Fine. You’re like a virgin in relationships. It’s okay…we can ease you in. Warm you up, sweetheart. It only hurts a little.”
I laugh at his crude humor, and Dom throws back the rest of his drink as his shoulders shake.
“If you aren’t spilling the goods, at least tell us what you know about what she’s involved in,” Luca finishes, getting down to business.
I lean back, resting my arms out over the chairs next to me, deciding how to tell them. But there’s no point in sugarcoating it, so I give it to them straight.
“Not much past what I got out of her the other night. But Antonio says the guys are real lowlifes. Whatever the fuck she’s tangled in smells foul. My gut says there’s way more to the story, and I don’t think I’m gonna like it.”
My brothers stare back at me with hardened gazes. I know they feel the same way I do. And I know they’re thinking all the same dark thoughts I’ve entertained.
Luca lets out a long breath, running his hand through his hair. “Are we worried about her?”
I know what he’s asking; I entertained the thought momentarily, too. We have to think this way—it’s our nature.
“Would it matter? Really? Even if she did something to deserve what she’s getting?”
His eyes hold mine, and I see his answer before he says it. “No, because whatever she did, that girl did it for the right reason. I don’t care who she is to them; I know who she is to us.”
“Agreed.”
“Have the guys tracked them down yet…her father and brother?” Dom questions, pulling my attention.
A billow of smoke wafts through the air with my exhale. “Yeah. We found them—the assholes are a block down from her. Nico’s gonna introduce himself tomorrow.”
Luca leans in, worry darkening his features. “Does she know you know?”
“Nah, that’s a fight for another day…” I answer, not elaborating.
Dom leans back into his chair. “Now, why would you keep that from her?”
I wave him off, crossing my arms. “I’m not keeping anything from her. I’m just ensuring the coast is really clear before she gets any ideas.”
My brothers stare at me and then at each other. I hate that twin thing. It’s always two against one with these dickheads.
My hand rubs my stubbled jaw as I grin, knowing they see right through my bullshit.
“Just fucking leave it, already…”
Dom smirks, slowly spinning a spoon around on the table, regarding Luca with amusement.
“You still on the fence about whether or not you want to help her?” Dom asks sarcastically.
Luca chuckles like the asshole he is. I level a look at my brother as he chimes in. “She’s not going to miss this time when she shoots you for lying and keeping her here, so you can fuck her longer.”
I smack the table, and he laughs harder.
“Fuck you. That’s not why I’m keeping her here…I mean, it’s not the only reason. And I never said we were fucking—stop trying to get information, you fucking perv.”
I take a swig of my drink as they both sit there shaking their heads at me, unconvinced by my reasoning.
“I wish I was an only child again. It wasn’t lonely. I take it all back.” I laugh, reaching for the butter knife.
“Careful, you’ll hurt yourself,” Luca jokes, grabbing it before I can.
I growl, rubbing my face, irritated with my asshole brothers.
“Fine. I like her,” I answer, bringing my eyes back to Luca’s. “She’s growing on me, and I don’t think she’ll have to run once I’m done with these jerkoffs. But she isn’t the kind of girl who does any-fucking-thing unless it’s her idea.”
“Now that I believe.” Dom states.
Luca puffs his cigar. “Aww, maybe you should make her matching bracelets, so she knows you really love her.”
Dom laughs, throwing back his drink, and pats the table. “Or, wait. Wait. I got it. You could get her those little heart candies that say ‘Be mine.’”
“I fucking hate you two so much.”
My phone vibrates on the table, and I pick it up, shaking my head and pointing at Luca. “You’re the biggest prick of the two of you, yo
u know that?”
He nods, smiling big. “Yeah. My cock is huge. You’re right. Biggest one.”
Dom howls as I stand and walk away to answer, my own laugh filling the line. “Speak.”
“We have a problem. She wants to go to her apartment to get more shit. But now that we know what we know…how do you want me to handle this?”
Matteo’s voice is hushed as if he’s trying to stay quiet, so she doesn’t hear. My arms cross as I hold the phone to my ear and turn my back to my brothers.
“I can’t risk spooking her or giving her false hope. Have you made headway about her family?” I question, hoping that he has so then she may be more open to reason.
“No. The girl is a steel trap.”
Fuck.
If I demand, she’ll react. If I request, she’ll deny.
I shake my head, the irony causing an upturn in my lips when I realize that the only way I’m made happy is if she’s happy.
“Dante,” Dom yells, and I turn, waving him off.
“Take her. Call some guys to go with you. I’ll meet you there. They’re not trying to take her out. It seems as if she’s more valuable alive.”
“Done.”
I end the call and shove my phone into my pant pocket, just as it vibrates. “Jesus. I’m the most popular guy tonight.”
Luca laughs as I walk back to the table and take my seat. I open the message that’s been sent from Antonio, and a frown forms on my face. Fuck.
Antonio: We could use your expertise. When you can.
They aren’t getting anywhere with the guy who’s been tracking her. If Antonio needs my help, I can’t imagine the sack of bones I’m gonna walk in to see.
Me: On my way.
I type back quickly, putting my phone away and focusing back on my brothers.
“I have to go. Business,” I shoot out, downing the rest of my drink and standing.
I stub my cigar out but put it between my fingers. “Never waste a good Cuban.”
Luca nods and lifts his drink. “Words to live by. Leave quickly before the girls come back down. They’ll have your ass for leaving before dessert.”
I laugh because it’s true. Drew and Gretchen aren’t going to let me hear the end of this.
Depraved Page 9
