To Francis’ surprise, Constanza only smiled. She ran her fingers through her straight black hair and placed her hands on his shoulders.
“Keep your woman if you like, Don Savelli. I will stay as your mistress.”
Francis stepped out of Constanza’s grasp and grabbed her by the face, forcing her to look up at him. He smiled sympathetically and said, “Constanza, I am in no need of a mistress, and you are too beautiful to lower yourself to that status. You deserve much more than that.”
She looked up at him with sad, tearful eyes. “I’m beautiful and good, but you don't want me?”
“No,” Francis confirmed. “I’m sorry, but I desire another.”
Constanza recoiled and stepped out of Francis’ reach. “Very well, Francis. I wish you well. I really do,” she said before fleeing the room.
Francis returned to his desk and picked up his cellular. His intention was to call Tracy and wish her a good morning, but Paolo’s abrupt entrance was an interruption.
“Kelly O'Reilly and his crew are here. We set them up in the lounge.”
“Bene,” Francis replied, following Paolo out of his office.
****
Francis took a sip from his glass and listened to grown men whine about the trivial. In the room were Alejandro “Angel” Medina and Nico, the South American smugglers, Kelly O'Reilly and his underling, Jason McCleary of the Irish Republican Army, and Paolo, Francis’ friend and enforcer.
Kelly was strongly expressing his desire to cut Angel and his South American crew out of the plan to transport weapons from Italy to Ireland. He wanted transportation and safety to be handled by the IRA, cutting out the middleman. Angel’s skills did not come cheap, and O’Reilly was not happy about paying. But Francis didn't trust the IRA to handle a shipment of that size. And if they lost a shipment, Francis wasn't handing out any refunds. Angel Medina controlled international waters. He had taken the journey many times, and the Irish didn't have half the connections the Bolivian had.
“I don't know this man, nor am I familiar with his organization. I don't like it,” Kelly complained. “Transportation should be handled on my end.”
Francis’ menacing glare landed on Kelly. He sat his glass on the table and scratched the stubble that had formed along his jawline. “Then, may I suggest that you get to know them. Have dinner, drinks, procure whores for all I care. Because if my decision-making skills are not to your liking, O'Reilly, you're free to arm your so-called cause elsewhere.”
Kelly, knowing that he wouldn't get a better deal elsewhere, was visibly disappointed. He did, however, very wisely remain silent. The deal had been finalized, and since he hadn't been able to call Tracy earlier, Francis was eager to hear her voice. He wanted to check on her and the baby, so he stood, grabbed his glass, and emptied the contents.
“Bene. Now that we have it all settled, Paolo will show you out.”
Without another word, Francis exited the parlor and headed to his bedroom. He grabbed his phone and flopped down in the chair next to his bed. Francis opened the photo gallery on his cellular and looked at pictures that he’d taken of Tracy at past events.
Without even trying, Tracy was stunning. She had gorgeous black skin, a body that was made for loving, and full lips that were enticing enough to incite to most erotic fantasies. Tracy was the woman of his dreams—literally. Francis had been dreaming about fucking her from the moment he laid eyes on her.
He pushed the button that activated the call. When he didn't get an answer, he tossed his cellular on the bed. He relaxed his head against the soft cushion of the chair. It was eleven PM in Calabria, therefore about seven AM in Chicago. Maybe she was still sleeping. Knowing Tracy the way he did, Francis would bet that she had worked until the wee hours the night before. He wouldn’t call again and risk waking her. She needed to rest. When he returned to Chicago, Francis would speak to Tracy about her hectic work schedule.
He stood and walked into the en suite bathroom to take a shower. When morning came, Francis would have his own business to attend to. He had an early meeting in Naples. In order to secure the shipments coming in and leaving out of the Amalfi Coast, officials needed to be paid.
From the shower, Francis could hear the shrill ring of his iPad. Since he’d only purchased the iPad so that he could FaceTime with Tracy, he knew that it could only be her calling.
He snatched a towel from the vanity and wrapped it around his waist. With excitement, he hurried out of the bathroom and grabbed the iPad. Realizing that he was behaving like a virgin boy in his very first whorehouse, Francis took a cleansing breath and exhaled before accepting the video call from his woman.
Coincidentally, Tracy was also wrapped in a towel. Her long dark hair was pulled into a bun that sat on the top of her head. Her face was clean of makeup, and water dripped from loose strands of hair that had escaped the bun.
She was stunning.
Francis lowered his gaze to the towel that barely covered her substantial breasts. He was picturing the dark, pert nipples that he’d memorized in his mind. Francis’ cock instantly swelled.
He returned to his chair and sat, placing the iPad on the table beside him. Knowing that Tracy was naked beneath only a towel, prompted Francis’ cock to jerk. By then, he’d had a full hard-on, and his erect cock managed to dislodge the tuck of his bath towel.
Francis didn't miss the hitch in Tracy’s breathing when his dick escaped. She stared shamelessly. Admittedly, Francis loved the way she appreciated his manhood.
“Tracy, hello,” he greeted, hearing the hoarseness of his own voice.
TRACY
Tracy was in a hypnotic trance as she watched a single bead of water maneuver through the maze that was Francis’ chiseled abs. Francis’ biceps flexed as he swiped wet strands of dark hair from his forehead. When he first came into view on the screen, Tracy was excited by his dark, sexy eyes, then his enticing lips. But when his strong torso came into view, and his towel fell open, Tracy couldn't begin to take her eyes away from his enormously engorged dick. Her mouth began to water as she marveled at the venous shaft of his impressively large dick.
“Tracy, hello.” His voice was gruff and sensual.
In her mind, she said hello, but her brain hadn't allowed her lips to move.
“Tracy?” Francis repeated.
Tracy forced her gaze from the work of art that was his body, to the work of art that was his face. His expression was that of amusement, and his sexy smirk let on that he was very aware that Tracy was eye fucking him.
“H-hey,” she responded after clearing her throat.
“You’re running late today, cara. Is everything okay? You feeling okay?”
Francis constantly worried about her and the health of their baby. It was as if he was expecting something bad to happen.
“Francis, I’m fine. I feel fine. I only have one meeting today, and it’s in the afternoon. So I decided to sleep a little late. Please don't worry so much.”
“Impossible. I’ll worry until I’m there to look after you. This, I cannot help.”
Tracy smiled, touched by his protectiveness.
“Exactly when will you be here to look after me?”
Francis leaned further into the chair, revealing more of his nakedness, and gracing Tracy with the naughtiest of grins. “What is it, Bella? You miss me?” he questioned, grabbing his dick with strong fingers that Tracy desperately missed.
“Well?” he probed when she didn’t respond.
Tracy swallowed hard as he slowly stroked himself from balls to tip. She imagined herself leaning over him, impaling herself onto his massive dick.
“Tracy?” he repeated, demanding an answer.
“Yes,” Tracy responded in a small voice. “I miss you.”
“Bene. I miss you too, bella. Rid yourself of the towel and let me see you.”
Tracy placed the iPad on her desk and did as instructed. She pulled the towel from her body and sat back against the chair. An involuntary moan escaped her
lips as Francis massaged his dick with vigor.
“I imagine myself caressing your beautiful tits and licking those chocolate nipples. Since I am unable, I need you to do it for me. Will you do that for me, bella?”
Tracy’s hands moved quickly to massage her aching breasts. When she pinched her sensitive nipples, the sheer pleasure caused her eyes to roll in the back of her head. Francis winced. He tightened his grip and sped the pace. Using the lubricant that dripped from the angry head of his cock, he jerked himself until Tracy could see the strain on his handsome face.
“I wanna lick your pussy, bella,” he croaked. “Help me.”
Tracy eagerly obeyed. She licked two of her fingers and slid them down her body until they reached her throbbing center. She then, less than gently, began to rub circles into the swollen bud. Tracy dipped her fingers inside of her wet opening, borrowing the accumulated moisture to slicken her eager clit.
“Si, bella, just like that,” he encouraged.
Tracy’s eyes never left Francis as she teased and massaged herself into a frenzy. The harder he stroked his dick, the more excited she became. Francis was a sight to see. His hard, sweat-glistened, sculpted chest and abs could only be rivaled by his handsome, masculine face.
“Mmm…Francis,” Tracy gasped as her own muscles tensed.
“I miss you, Bella. When I get back, I’m gonna eat that sweet pussy ‘til you scream. Do you hear me?”
“Umm…yes, baby,” Tracy purred.
The sight of Francis jerking off, tugging his cock with purposeful intent and the feral sound of his groans sent Tracy over the virtual edge. She froze, and her body began to convulse. Her clit throbbed against her fingers as she experienced an explosive release.
“Gotdamn it, Francis!” she shouted in ecstasy.
Francis’ brow creased, the powerful muscles in his thighs tightened, and his strokes became more rapid.
“Ahhhh, Tracy! Be-lla!” Francis growled as white lava erupted from his volcanic cock. “Agh…fuck!”
Tracy did her best to control her breathing as she watched thick cum spill down his shaft, wishing that she was there to lick him clean. She had even found herself disappointed when he used the towel to clean himself. Judging from the grin that Francis donned, her disappointment must have been evident.
“Don't worry, bella. I’ll have some for you when I get back,” he chuckled.
“And when is that?” Tracy asked, remembering that he hadn't answered her when she asked earlier.
“Soon,” was his response.
Tracy wrapped the towel around her body and narrowed her eyes at his vague response.
“Soon?”
“Si. How’s my boy doing in there?” Francis asked, changing the subject.
“He, or she, is fine. I gotta go. I’m having breakfast with Victoria in an hour, and I have to shower all over again,” Tracy snarked.
“Fine, cara, we’ll talk soon,” Francis responded, ignoring Tracy’s tone.
He disconnected the call, leaving Tracy to stare into a blank screen. She rolled her eyes at his consistent, unruffled demeanor.
Francis Savelli could not be goaded.
CHAPTER 16
FRANCIS
“Boss, the plane is fueled and ready, Arturo is waiting out front, and Castel Dell’ovo is set for the meeting,” Paolo announced.
“Bene. Andiamo,” Francis replied as they exited the villa.
As Francis strode toward his car, he counted six other vehicles that were there for the purpose of securing his safety. He thought about the dynamics of his life and what it would mean for Tracy and his unborn child.
Francis wanted nothing more than to make the world safe for his new family. Unfortunately, the world and the people of the world were not all good. Sometimes, it took a little bad to ensure the good. In his heart, Francis knew realistically that he couldn't delete his so-called “bad side”. To do so would leave his family vulnerable. He couldn't erase the past. In order to keep his family safe, Francis would have no other choice but to retain his seat at the head of the table.
With Paolo close behind, Francis entered his beloved Maybach. Since he’d been spending so much time between France and the United States, he hadn't had the pleasure of driving it in ages.
“No, capo, not that car,” Paolo informed. “Arturo says that the air conditioner isn't working properly. We’ll take this one,” he said, pointing to a waiting Land Rover. Francis, somewhat disappointed, nodded and without question, followed Paolo into the SUV. Once inside, he pulled his cellular from the inside of his jacket pocket and called Luca.
“Buongiorno,” Luca answered.
Even though Luca was in Chicago, he knew that it was morning in Italia.
Buongiorno, cugino,” Francis responded. “Have you been looking after my donna?”
“Si, capo, I have, but she works nonstop. This cannot be good for her and your bambina.”
Knowing that Luca was undoubtedly telling the truth, Francis smiled. Tracy was a workaholic.
“I see that my woman has corrupted you. You refer to my unborn as a girl,” Francis said with a chuckle.
“It’s a feeling,” Luca admitted. “How were the talks?”
“As expected,” Francis admitted.
“Ahh…I figured.”
“How are the wedding plans?”
“I have no fucking clue,” Luca admitted with a chuckle. “I just nod and smile when expected. Weddings are not meant to be planned by men.”
Luca’s response earned hearty laughter from Francis. He was right. No man cared about cakes and seating charts. Most men only cared about possessing their heart’s desire, saying I do, and then placing his heir into their precious wombs.
“You're headed to Naples, si?”
“Si, I’m en route to the airport. I will call you when I land. Look after my donna and give your beautiful Tammy a kiss for me. I will be back in America soon.”
“Si, capo, I will,” Luca promised. “Keep your eyes open.”
“Sempre,” Francis assured. “I always do.”
Francis ended the call and relaxed against the back seat. He looked out of the window, admiring the beauty of Calabria. On one side, there were old-fashion villages with small villas. Rugged mountains served as a serene backdrop. On the other side, was the dramatically beautiful coast line.
Francis loved Calabria. He reminisced of being a young boy, running through green meadows. His parents, Luciano and Rosa, would bring him, along with his older sister Teresa, and his baby brother, Vincenzo, to their vacation home that was surrounded by miles of vineyards and fields of white lilies.
The coast line was where Francis and his siblings would spend the majority of their vacation. They loved the water. Swimming, fishing, and all around mischief was the extent of their holidays in Calabria.
Thinking of Vin and Teresa caused Francis to be even more excited about his trip to Naples. Because of their careers, they had moved to the crowded city years ago.
Teresa, Francis’ older sister, was a forty-five-year-old nurse that worked in NCH Baker Hospital. She was married to Carlo Rosati, a high-ranking police official, who had conveniently served the Savelli family well. His brother, Vincenzo, was thirty-six and unmarried. He worked as a customs supervisor. His role was to ensure that weapon shipments, either by air or sea, entered and left the country without incident. Between Francis, Luca, Carlo, and Vinnie, weapons dealing was a family business.
Francis was excited to see his family. He hadn't seen them in at least eight months. There had been a lot going on with his American side of the family. His siblings were aware of the turmoil that had gone down in the United States. They’d been informed via telephone conversations. And though they were ready to step in, Francis wanted them to stay in place in order to maintain their anonymity. He needed his family to stay legit.
Francis’ memories of the family that he hadn't seen in months consumed his thoughts, reminding him of a simpler life. His parents and siblings rem
inded him of a peace that he hadn't felt in years. He found himself not only admiring the majestic lands but missing his kinfolk. He couldn't wait to tell them about his woman and his bambino. He wanted to wait until Tracy traveled to his homeland, but he was so excited that he knew he wouldn't be able to contain his enthusiasm. He had to tell them. His mother, Rosa, would be so happy. She wanted nothing more than for Francis to settle down and reproduce. His sister, Teresa, was unable to have children, and Vincenzo was simply not willing. He was thirty-six but not ready to have a family. Vinnie vowed to be the last playboy standing.
Francis could relate. He’d had plenty of women, some that could be considered the most beautiful in Europe. He’d even had an impressive roster of beauties in America. But no woman that he’d been with had ever made him want to settle down, let alone father a child. Right or wrong, to Francis, women were possessions—like cars. When first purchased they were shiny and new, but after time they were no longer as appealing. Then, Tracy, the stubborn, beautiful, feisty, super curvy vixen entered his life and altered his whole perspective of women, and what they were to him. Francis had actually fantasized about his future with her. It was unchartered territory for him. But Tracy was different. She’d suffered a great loss; enduring the unbearable heartache of losing the man she’d planned to marry. She’d also watched her friend survive the worst. She’d been attacked and violated in the worst way. And through it all, she remained strong and resilient. Strangely, she had no idea of the strength she possessed, but she would learn soon enough. Unfortunately, her association with his family, along with Victoria and Natasha, would allow her very little peace. All of their lives were very complex. Now, because of her associations, Tracy’s life would be just as chaotic, but Francis knew that his woman was strong enough to handle the hand she’d been dealt. He would do whatever it took to make her life easier, safer, and happier, and Francis was planning to give her and his bambino their heart’s desire. His goal was simple; make them happy.
Beautiful Prey 4 Page 10
