I stepped closer to the stage that came up to waist height. “I didn’t know you played piano.”
“You never asked,” she whispered.
“I know.” I nodded, taking a deep breath. There were a lot of things I never asked, but I’d make up for it, even if it took the rest of my life. “So, I thought I’d buy you one.”
“The piano is mine?” She blinked in confusion, her gaze veering from the piano to me.
“No.” I shook my head, hating how the hope in her eyes diminished at my one word. “It’s all yours.” I stepped back and raised my arms. “The entire bar is yours.”
She choked out a laugh. “What?” Her head snapped left and right. “What are you talking about.”
“I bought you a piano bar.” My words were low, my confidence waning. I’d never second-guessed myself, but I felt like I was constantly doing that with Aida.
“You bought me a piano bar?” I nodded, wincing as she stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “You’re insane.” She stepped forward, her stomach at the same level as my head with her standing on the stage. “You’re totally, completely insane.” Her hands gripped either side of my face. “But damn if I don’t like it.”
I grinned, my muscles finally relaxing now that I could see the smile on her face. “You like it, then?”
“Like it?” She sighed. “I love it.” Her stare met mine, her light-brown eyes capturing me and promising to never let me go. “I suppose I should play you a song now, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say no to that.” She bent at the waist, placed a barely there kiss on my head, and spun around. I couldn’t look away from her as she stroked the piano and pressed a couple of the keys, but it was when she started playing a haunting tune, getting lost in each of the notes, that I realized how much music meant to her. She was in a world of her own—just her and the music—and I knew then that I would do anything to protect her, even if it was from me.
CHAPTER 14
AIDA
“This is the way my ma taught me how to make cannoli,” Lorenzo’s ma said, putting some ingredients into a bowl. I listened intently, not wanting to miss a single word she said. “First, you add all of the dry ingredients.” She glanced up at me. “Then the butter.” She placed the butter in the bowl and started to mix it with her hands. “You mix it until all of the lumps are gone.” She lifted her hands out of the bowl and pushed it toward me. “You try, cara.”
I grinned at the term of endearment she’d started using as I pushed my fingers into the bowl. I’d never made cannoli before. My ma always made savory things because it meant she could batch cook them. I was excited not only to be spending time with Lorenzo’s ma but also learning how to make them the traditional way that she’d been taught.
Ma cracked an egg into a bowl and added something else, whisking it up. “Is it lump-free?”
“I think so.” I wasn’t really sure, but one quick look over my shoulder had her nodding.
“Mix this into a dough,” she said, placing the wet ingredients in and watching as I tried to mix it all together. It mostly stuck to my fingers, and I panicked, thinking I was messing it up. “Here.” Ma reached into the bowl, pulling the mixture off my fingers and then taking over. She was a pro at it, and in no time had made it into the glossiest-looking dough I’d ever seen.
“What do we do now?” I asked Ma.
“We rest and chill it overnight.” She wagged her finger in the air. “Too many times, people try to rush the process, but you need to let all the ingredients merge together to permeate into a tasty dough.” She wrapped the dough in some plastic wrap and moved across the kitchen to the huge fridge. “Perfection takes time, cara.”
I nodded, understanding what she was saying. Sometimes it would take all day to make the perfect pasta sauce, but everyone wanted everything right away. We lived in a fast-paced world, one where we could place an order for food on our phones and it would be at our door thirty minutes later. Traditions were being lost, and I wanted to make sure I was doing everything I could to uphold them.
“Did I not say you weren’t allowed in here again?” Lorenzo’s deep voice came from the doorway.
I raised a brow and turned to face him, holding my sticky dough-covered fingers in the air. “You did.”
He stared at me, tilting his head to the side. “Then why are you in here with Ma?”
“I’m learning how to make cannoli.” I turned to wash my hands and then leaned back against the counter to give him my full attention. “You have a problem with that?”
“Yeah.” He stepped toward me, his eyes flashing, but I didn’t take any notice of his facial expressions. I was too focused on the way his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the way his chest moved with each of his breaths. “You’re defying me again.”
“I am,” I breathed out, biting down on my bottom lip the closer he came. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and I couldn’t look away from his tan skin, remembering what was beneath the rest of the material. “What are you going to do about it?”
I knew there was nothing he could do, not right then anyway, because it was the middle of the day. Uncle Alonzo and Antonio had only arrived twenty minutes ago, and whenever they came to the house, they’d be holed up in his office for hours at a time.
“Don’t tempt me into something you’re not prepared to finish, Aida.”
I blinked up at him, having no intention of not following through. Weeks had gone by since I’d told him I would give us a proper chance, and since then, we’d done nothing but kiss.
I wanted more.
I needed more.
“Who said I wasn’t going to finish it?”
Ma’s footsteps echoed as she walked across the kitchen, and one quick look her way had me witnessing the smile on her face. She was seeing a side to Lorenzo I had no doubt she’d never seen before, but I didn’t have time to overthink it as she exited the kitchen, leaving Lorenzo and me all alone.
“Aida,” he warned, halting in front of me and placing both of his hands on the counter behind me.
“What?” I asked, meeting his stare and seeing the roaring fire in his eyes. He wanted this just as much as I did, so I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t wait for him to plant his lips on me. I dived for him, our lips connecting like magnets.
His hands came to my waist, yanking me closer to him, and I went without question. His cock pressed against me, and I reached down, pressing my palm along it over his pants.
“Fuck,” he ground out, pulling his face away from mine. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, his eyes turning so dark they were nearly black. Neither of us said a word, the only sounds in the room our gasps for air.
And then he was on me, picking me up like I weighed the same as a feather. I wrapped my legs around his waist, tilting my hips so I could rock my core against his cock. He faltered at the move, pausing in the foyer, and I spotted his office door wide open. Voices came from inside, and for a second, I wondered if he was going to realize he was busy.
But he didn’t. He simply took the stairs two at a time and headed right for his bedroom. The door swung open and slammed closed behind us. I registered that the sofa that used to be pressed up against the wall was gone, and in its place was a dresser.
I opened my mouth to ask him about it, but I didn’t get the chance because I was flying in the air, my back hitting the bed. “Umph.” I blinked, trying to get my bearings, but Lorenzo was already back on me, yanking down my leggings and panties in one smooth movement.
He slithered up to me, grasping the bottom of my top with both hands, then yanking at it. The material ripped, exposing my bare chest to him. “Fuck,” he groaned out. “Had I known you were wearing nothing underneath that, I would have come in here sooner.”
“I never wear a bra at home.” I gasped, trying to keep up with him as he slid back down my body and to the floor. “What are you doing?”
His lips lifted up into his telltale smirk, his hands pressed again
st my thighs, and then he parted them. “I’m taking what’s mine.” He dove between my legs, dragging his tongue up my slit, and it took all of my strength not to squeeze my legs together from the onslaught.
I moaned, gripping on to the sheets. “Lorenzo.” I lifted my hips higher, needing… “More.”
His fingers dug into my thighs, yanking me closer and lifting my ass off the bed. He took my clit into his mouth, sucking on it so hard I was scared I’d combust right there and then. The tip of his tongue flicked the bundle of nerves over and over again, and I reached my hand out to grab his hair. I pushed my fingers through it, jerking my hips into his face, not having a care in the world what I sounded or looked like.
Only Lorenzo managed to have me losing all of my inhibitions.
He slipped one finger inside me, swirling his tongue around and lapping me up like he couldn’t get enough of me. His second finger had me squirming even more, and when I looked down, I groaned. His gaze met mine, the dark and broody stare mixed with him sucking on my clit one last time making me shoot off like a firework.
One hand gripped on to his hair, the other to the sheets. I didn’t look away from him as my clit pulsated, relishing in the best damn feeling washing through my body.
“I could watch that all day long,” he gritted out, his voice deeper than usual. Slowly, I let go of his hair, my fingers numb. I was sated, more than I ever had been. His long fingers undid the buttons on his shirt, his tongue licking his lips and lapping up the leftover juices. “Tastes like heaven,” he murmured, yanking his shirt off and throwing it to the floor. His slacks were next; his cock springing free. My breaths turned to pants at the sight of him, his tan skin glistening.
He crawled over me like a lion stalking its prey, each of his muscles pulsating at his movements. My legs opened automatically, calling him to me silently. I gasped as his cock lined up at my entrance, but he didn’t push any farther. He just stayed there, staring down at me.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he murmured, placing his hand on the side of my face. I felt my cheeks heat at his attention, but I soaked it in, needing this side of him just as much as I wanted his asshole side. There were so many versions of Lorenzo, and I wanted to get to know them all. I wanted to see parts of him that he kept hidden from everyone else. And I knew that was what this was—a side he kept secret, just for me.
His hips moved forward, his cock pushing through my entrance. I tried to keep my eyes open, wanting to watch each of his reactions, and when his eyes closed, a moan vibrating from his throat, I let mine close too.
Slowly, he pushed in and out, relishing in it, in me, and I was doing the same. It was so different from the first time we’d been on this bed. We knew each other better. We were starting to understand each other.
I couldn’t take his slow rhythm, though. I needed more. More of this. More of him. So, I slammed my hands on his chest, causing his eyes to pop open. A frown appeared on his face, but I didn’t explain as I pushed him off me. I knelt at the side of him, threw one leg over him, then lined his cock back up at my entrance.
“Fuck,” he groaned out as I lowered onto him. His hands grasped my hips, his body lifting so our faces were level, and for the first time, I took control. I rocked my hips, planting my hands on his shoulders for traction as I slipped him out and back in again.
His cock pinched the sides of my walls. I savored the slight pain mixed with the pleasure, but I lost my rhythm when his head dipped, his mouth taking my nipple into his mouth. He stood, banding his arms around my entire body, and popped my nipple out.
“My turn.” He grinned, moving us away from the bed. My back hit a wall, his forehead pressed against mine, but he didn’t let me go as he pounded into me.
“Yes,” I gritted out, letting my head fall back. He didn’t stop his relentless pounding, not when my second orgasm slammed through me, and not when my body sagged, not sure it was able to take anymore.
I rested my face on his shoulder, moaning as he pumped in and out of me. I tensed around him, felt him pulsate, and then he stilled, a growl escaping his throat as he emptied inside me.
And I knew right there, at that moment, that there was no turning back. Not now that I knew what it was like to be the center of his universe.
LORENZO
“Favorite day of the week?” I asked, staring up at the ceiling in the living room.
I sensed Aida turn her head, so I did the same, meeting her stare. “Tuesday.”
My lips quirked at the corner. “Why Tuesday?”
She rolled to her side and leaned her head on her hand. “Monday is the start of the week, so that’s out. Wednesday is the midway point, so that’s neither here nor there.” I blinked as she explained it to me. “Thursdays are meh.”
I chuckled. “Obviously.”
“And Fridays always get all of the attention.” She smiled, pleased with herself. “So, there you have it. Tuesday.”
“What about Saturday or Sunday?”
“They don’t count.” She winked. “They’re weekends.” She had a point. “What about you?”
I tilted my head to the side, glancing around the empty room. We’d been spending more and more time in the living room, so I decided that we should redecorate. The furniture and decor were the same from when I was a kid, but the mansion was mine now. I stared back at Aida—ours. It was ours.
The hardwood floors were cold and hard on our backs, but I didn’t care. Any opportunity I had to spend time with Aida, I took it without a second thought.
“Mondays,” I said, watching as her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, but I knew she was going to ask why, so I continued, “It’s a new week. A fresh start.” I leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. “I like fresh starts.” I pressed my palms to the floor, lifting myself up. I hated leaving her, but there was no way I could bring her with me, not where I was about to go.
“You’re leaving?” she asked as I stood.
“Yeah.” I stepped back, grabbing my suit jacket off one of the new furniture boxes. “I have a meeting in the city.” I didn’t need to explain what meeting it was because she already knew it was Mafia business, and that was all I wanted her to know. The fewer details she had, the better. For the both of us.
She nodded and stood, staring around the room. “Is Mateo going with you?”
“Yeah.” I pushed my arms through my jacket just as my cell pinged. A quick glance at it told me he was outside, ready to leave. “Why?”
“I was going to ask him to help put some of this furniture together with me.”
I sauntered toward Aida, grabbing her by the waist and yanking her to me. “I’ll do it when I get home.” I pulled in a breath, unable to get enough of her rose scent. “Relax. Take a bath. Spend some time with Sofia.” Her eyes flashed, and I knew I’d hit the perfect spot with my last words. “I’ll be back soon.”
She wrapped her arms around me, her head finding the place on my chest where she slept every night. In a matter of three months, I’d gone from hating the fact I had to find a wife to not wanting to leave her side. I wanted to spend every second next to her, listening to her talk about nothing and everything. But I couldn’t. I had a business to run—a business that depended on me being the violent asshole I’d grown into.
As soon as I stepped away from her, I slipped my perfected mask back on and left the house, ready to do business. I pushed her to the back of my mind as Mateo drove us into the city. I was familiar with all of the streets, having spent days on them when I was younger. There was no better way to understand the way people were than to become one of them.
And that was what I’d done.
I’d made friends in low places as well as high. I’d committed crimes. I’d made allies as well as enemies. These city streets had molded me into the man I was today. A man who took no shit. A man who gave people second chances.
One chance. That was what I’d begged Aida for. It was what I gave everyone who crossed me. But that was all the
y got. You should learn from your mistakes, but as Mateo pulled to a stop at the warehouse, I knew this person hadn’t.
Darkness covered the night, seeping into my bones and bringing my inner demon to the forefront. The sounds of the city created the background noise to what would be a long night, one I’d relish at every turn.
Drops of rain fell onto my face as I walked toward the warehouse door, entered the code, then stepped inside. I could already hear pained moans. They’d started without me, but I’d be the one to finish it. I’d be the one to send a final message to everyone who thought they could cross me.
“Lorenzo,” Dante greeted from the edge of the space they’d created between the crates of guns and ammunition. At the sound of my name, everyone stilled. My dress shoes clacked against the concrete floor, each step taking me closer to the man tied to a chair in the middle.
Blood ran down the side of his face and from his arm—the arm that had no hand on it. I’d already taught him one lesson, but apparently, that hadn’t been enough for him. I moved past Uncle Antonio, his shirt splattered with blood. He was the person who’d taught me the best way to torture someone to inflict the maximum amount of pain.
Another chair sat to the side—a chair saved especially for me. I may have wanted to get my hands dirty, but not until Uncle Antonio has had his fun. I nodded at the man strapped to the chair—the man who I’d seen the night of my wedding. He hadn’t begged to keep his hand, and he hadn’t wanted forgiveness. No, he’d wanted another excuse to try and fuck me over.
I undid the button on my suit jacket, lowered into my seat, and waved my hand in the air, signaling for Uncle Antonio to continue.
He stepped forward, a pair of pliers gripped in his hand. “Hold his head, Dante,” Uncle Antonio gritted out. Dante grabbed the man’s head, and Antonio went to work, pulling out his teeth one at a time. He was methodical as he went, first the bottom teeth and then the top.
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