Bruno: Heartless Mafia Boss

by Addy Archer

  Her eyes flash open. “My phone,” she squeaks and shoves her hand into the pocket of her jeans.

  She hisses and when she pulls her hand out, the screen of her phone is cracked and her finger is bleeding.

  “Dammit,” I growl and take the phone from her to put it on the table before grabbing the first aid kit Torin left on the table.

  Even if we called the doc, we always grab our own kit too in case he needs something extra.

  “Is it still working?” she questions and eyes her phone.

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you a new one.” I start to clean the tiny cut and put a bandage on it.

  “Can you stop fussing for a moment so I can tell you what happened at the bridal shop?” she huffs.

  “Ridge is a dead man walking. And I have men combing out the area and put the word out to any doctor who might treat someone with a shot wound.”

  “I don’t care about the one who beat me up,” she grumbles. “I’m pretty sure Ridge had something to do with that too. Even more when I think about what he said, that’s why I need to know if the phone still works. You know how I take these memos so I don’t forget what I want to work on next or want to try?”

  I give a slight shake of my head. “How would I know when you keep avoiding me these past few weeks?” I unwillingly snap.

  “Try to be less of an asshole and you’d make better company,” she snaps back but winces.

  I cup the side of her face. “Calm down, I don’t like seeing you in pain. And for me to be less of an asshole might be too much to ask. I’ve never had to adjust for anyone.”

  “Figures,” she grumbles and clears her throat.

  “Do you need something to drink? Eat?”

  She gives a tiny smile. “Nice. Bribe me with your famous sandwich, that might work.”

  My chest constricts again at the sound of her sweet voice and the way her face is all busted up. I take a seat on the couch and carefully shift her upper body so I can hold her in my arms. The position has an oddly calming effect for the both of us.

  “I picked a wedding dress, which seemed fine by me, but the woman at the bridal shop said it needed some slight alterations. She asked if we could wait in the diner across the street or return in a few hours. We did and when we returned Emmet stayed in the front while I went into the back.” She gives me a stern look. “Emmet isn’t allowed in the changing room so don’t give him another black eye. He came to check on me when it took longer than just a few minutes.”

  I grind my teeth, not liking the way this is going, but I give her a tight nod anyway. She snuggles against my chest and in return I gently rub her upper arm as I hold her close.

  “I changed into the dress and I swear I couldn’t find anything that the woman might have altered. And when I stepped out of the changing room to glance in the mirrors, Ridge was standing there. She must have called him and needed extra time for him to get there or whatever. He basically offered for me to become his wife and said how I should kill you before you kill me. He also mentioned I would only get hurt if I stayed with you. That’s why I think he had something to do with me getting beat up. I mean, it’s too much of a coincidence, right?”

  “I don’t know,” I grumble between clenched teeth. “I just killed a capo’s son. Calab might suspect something if he noticed his son is missing.”

  “Oh,” she whispers and goes rigid.

  “The vial. You were supposed to poison me, but instead you handed over the vial,” I state. “No temptation? Me and my asshole ways, and getting an offer to step out of the contract might be tempting.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she mutters and tries to shift away from me, wincing because she’s fucking hurting.

  “We just repeatedly agreed on the fact that I am an asshole. But maybe you can point out what you think when I’m being an ass so I can maybe be less assholish.”

  “As if that’s a word.” The words are plain but her body relaxes in my hold.

  I rub my chin over the top of her head. “I should send soldiers to take Ridge and kill him. I have the fucking proof they requested before they would allow me to deal with him. I’m the damn boss for fuck’s sake.”

  “Ridge said,” She shifts and glances at the table where I placed her phone. “Does it still work?”

  “The screen is ruined.” I lean forward and carefully tap the screen, it doesn’t light up. “I’ll have someone pick up a new phone for you in the morning.”

  “I need for it to work. I was making a memo when I walked out of the dressing room, it recorded the whole conversation.”

  Is she serious? “You taped it?”

  “Not intentionally,” she huffs. “I was making a freaking memo and then he was there. I noticed it was still recording when I was back in the changing room after Emmet practically burst through the door to check why it was taking too long. See? Emmet is observant. It’s that bitch from the bridal shop who saw an opportunity. Twice. Maybe Ridge offered her to become his wife too.”

  The corner of my mouth twitches. “You really are something,” I murmur and place a kiss on her forehead. “No one will take you away from me.”

  I grab my phone and shoot Torin a text, it doesn’t take long for him to knock and enter the room. “You needed me, boss?”

  I point at the phone on the table. “Winter’s phone isn’t working, it’s smashed. Any way to retrieve files stored on there? She needs her memos.”

  He gives Winter a soft smile. “Let me see what I can do.”

  Torin stalks away and comes back with a laptop in one hand and a cable in the other. He plugs the phone in and it doesn’t take long until he states, “I can access everything. We can either have her screen fixed or get her a new phone and put everything on there.”

  “Let me hear the last memo she recorded,” I demand, a little too harsh I gather from the way Torin narrows his eyes at me. I add in explanation, “It was Ridge who was waiting for her inside the fucking bridal shop.”

  I receive a tight nod before he clicks something and a recording starts to run. The conversation takes mere minutes but enough is said. Enough to make yet again anger swirl, and some of it is directed at myself.

  The way Ridge managed to take a spin on the deaths of the women in my life makes it sound believable enough to plant doubt in Winter’s head. Hell, he was close to the truth when he stated I bought Winter and then fucking bought her with a damn contract to be my wife, demanding a son from her as well.

  If it wasn’t for her own request, turning shit around, the contract would indeed be about buying her for millions. Guilt weighs heavy and it’s pressing on my damn chest with her close to me.

  “Torin. Make a copy and let Rheys hear the conversation as well. Winter is never to be unguarded again, understood? She’s either with me or with one of you two along with two other guards. Her safety goes even beyond my own,” I growl out the last part, meaning every damn word and surprising myself along with it.

  “Consider it done,” Torin says and takes the laptop with him when he leaves the room.

  “Come on, let’s get you into bed.” I gently lift her into my arms. “Or would you rather walk? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m fine, don’t start fussing now,” she whispers and leans in closer as she grips my shirt in her tiny fist.

  Without thinking I head for my bedroom. Ever since she arrived here I gave her one of the spare bedrooms. We made a deal for a marriage–and giving me an heir–but I also respect traditions and wanted to make her mine on our wedding night.

  “This is not my room,” she mutters.

  “You’re not leaving my sight again,” I simply say.

  Seeing her like this, the way I’ve been acting, the words Ridge threw at her. One, some, fucking all result in a much needed change. She had an opportunity today. She had a damn choice to opt out. Hell, she could have left or killed me, taking sides with Ridge.

  This woman went through a lot. And the way she came into my life ha
s given her many reasons to choose differently. Yet, this woman chose me. There’s trust and there’s loyalty. Some might barely reach it, others try and fail, and only a handful give what they expect in return . . . and then there’s Winter, giving me all.

  I’d be a fucking idiot if I didn’t value her, and right now I want it all. The feelings running through me, the fury of seeing her hurt; this isn’t about producing an heir or chasing some goal I set myself. This is about Winter becoming my wife in all ways.

  I carefully lay her down on the bed. “I’m going to run you a bath, it might help with the soreness of your muscles. Not too hot, though.”

  “Typical,” she grumbles underneath her breath. “Going from hot to cold.”

  “What was that?” I question, trying hard not to let a smile spread my face.

  Catching a ray of sun in a pitch black night, that’s how I would describe Winter and her spirit of living; fucking unique. The way she jumps on things, twist them in her hand or questions what she deems important. The reality of it all is very enlightening.

  I’m more of a hard realist who needs order and respect, needing those things in return and never take bullshit or fucking light of things. She brings balance in my life; my own ray of sun to catch in the pitch black I’m always surrounded with.

  I run a bath for her and help her out of the clothes. Bruises are visible on her ribcage and from the looks of those I can only imagine the pain she’s in. Painkillers only take away so much. Hopefully the warm water will help, and rest.

  Over half an hour later I have her tucked into my bed and it doesn’t take long for her to drift off. The events of the day, the sleeping pills, the warm bath, everything is pulling her into oblivion.

  I’ve texted both Torin and Rhyes and they are waiting for me out in the hall. I know I’m overreacting but I meant what I said when I told her she won’t be leaving my sight. It’s for this reason I meet them in front of my bedroom and keep the door slightly ajar to keep an eye on my woman, sleeping in my bed.

  “I want him found and taken to one of the warehouses,” I whisper hiss.

  There’s no need to state a name or a reason, they know damn well who I’m talking about.

  “Caleb demands a meeting,” Rhyes says and something inside me snaps.

  “That fucker demands a meeting? Demands?” A low growl rumbles through my throat. “Let him fucking drown in his own ego. Don’t respond to anything concerning Caleb. We will handle it when I say it’s going to be handled.”

  Torin and Rhyes both nod in approval.

  Rhyes lifts his chin in the direction of the room behind me. “She did good.”

  “She did more than good.” Torin nods. “She had all the damn reasons to give in to his offer. Some of the things he said? Fucking hell.”

  “She’s my woman,” I simply state.

  Torin nods in appreciation. “That she is. Golden fucking backbone.”

  “Make sure she knows this in the upcoming few days. But from the look in your eye, I’d say you won’t leave anything to chance. And if you have the time? Check her art studio.”

  “Her art studio? He needs to check the paintings he ordered me to stash away. Arrange a damn gallery instead of letting them rot in the basement,” Torin says with a little too much anger and he instantly realizes it too and holds his hands palms up. “But you’ll agree the moment you see how talented your wife is.”

  I let my head bounce slowly. “Keep your eyes and ears open. We will talk in the morning about how we’re going to handle this and what our next step will be, because if I would leave the house right now, I would set Ridge ablaze in the middle of the damn town, no matter who fucking sees me do it. Same goes for Caleb. Making demands as if he holds any power.”

  I notice how Winter is shifting on the bed.

  “Till morning, boss,” Torin says on a whisper.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Rhyes agrees and the both of them head downstairs.

  I close the door behind me and lock the both of us inside the bedroom. Shrugging out of my clothes I gently slide underneath the covers and take care in shifting her body to drape her over me. I need to feel her close. Her head on my chest, the air slipping over her lips and scorching my skin.

  I close my eyes and inhale her scent, thankful this magnificent woman is still alive and breathing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  – WINTER –

  The first thing I feel is pain when I try and shift my body. The next thing? Warmth covering my back and a hand keeping my thigh in place. I blink a few times and adjust to the light while I take in my surroundings. I’m not in my own bedroom; I’m in Bruno’s bed. Everything from yesterday comes rushing back.

  “Relax,” Bruno says on a croaked murmur.

  His hand slowly strokes up and down my leg making me become aware of my own body, and most definitely aware of his hard length pressing against my ass. I press back but his fingertips dig into my thigh.

  “Six days, Winter. My cock won’t slide into your tight pussy until we’re married.” His brutally honest words make me groan.

  “You’re so frustrating. Asshole ways, hot kisses riling me up, and now I’m here, in your bed, you pressing that thing against me. Ugh. I mentioned frustrating, right?”

  “Frustrated. Are you telling me my woman is sexually frustrated?” His voice is husky and he gently pushes me back while he places a hand next to my face as he hovers his body above me.

  I now notice his bare upper body. Sunkissed skin with a large tattoo on his right arm. And those muscles. I bite my bottom lip and reach out to slide my fingers over his chest. His breathing changes and his eyes flare with lust.

  His lips inch closer until he covers my mouth with his. I gasp when I feel his hard length now pressing my center while he keeps his weight off my body. His tongue swoops in to start a sensual dance with mine and at this point I don’t care if my body is hurting from the beating I took yesterday. My body is aching but it’s aching for Bruno.

  He tears his mouth away and places his forehead against mine, our breaths are coming out raw and heavy. When I think he’s going to kiss me again, I’m surprised to feel his lips touching my jaw and neck, his hands working carefully to slide up the large t-shirt he gave me to wear last night after the bath I took.

  “Let me take care of you,” he murmurs and I know exactly what he means.

  I’ve read and heard about it but never–

  Oh.

  My.

  Sweet chocolate pie still warm and melting on your freaking . . . tongue. Bruno’s tongue is what I want for Christmas every damn day. Wow. Ouch. Squirming isn’t easy when your body is sore, but I’m not going to complain. Not when this feels so good.

  My body is all pumped up from the kisses he gave me over the time I’ve been here. As if my body is all ready fully charged and waiting for detonation. His teeth graze my clit at the same time I feel his fingers slide through my folds. He pushes slightly in and sucks the bundle of nerves, giving me the ultimate sensation my body craves to light up.

  My head falls back and I whisper on a long moan, “Brunoooooo.”

  I feel as if I just finished a marathon; accomplish something you craved to do while simultaneously drained your body by actually doing it. I’m still dazed with pleasure when I see Bruno scoot closer to place my legs over his thick, muscled thighs.

  I watch in awe when he palms his thick, hard length. My eyes widen when I notice a glimpse of silver. A piercing? His dick is pierced? Oh. Wow. The way he slowly slides up and down, squeezing, letting his thumb slide over the tip to play with the piercing while a slow growl of pleasure ripples through him.

  His eyes are locked on my pussy, admiring it as if he’s seeing the best view known to mankind. The tip of his dick bumps hot against my pussy with each tug. Bruno stiffens and groans, eyes closing as his face washes with pleasure. Hot ropes of cum cover my pussy and belly as he comes hard while voicing my name as if it’s a plea for more.

  He falls forward
but catches himself on one hand right next to my head. His lips merge with mine and I willingly surrender to the possessive way he takes my mouth in a fierce kiss. I let my hands slide to his head, tugging his thick dark hair to keep him close.

  “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmurs against my lips.

  A moan slips out before I tell him, “I’m not opposed to doing this until that day comes. I can’t believe you’re pierced. Just . . . wow.”

  His husky chuckle makes me crave to feel his piercing even more.

  “I’m tempted to reschedule so we can get married this afternoon.” The way he voices the words doesn’t make it seem as if he’s joking.

  “Why wait for something that feels so good? I really love feeling you this close, sharing intimacy.” I groan when I feel his dick getting hard again between us.

  But I know he can’t be tempted to skip the wedding and cancel the large list of guests. Because he’s a mafia boss and has a status to uphold, my inner thoughts easily supplies.

  “Never mind. Don’t answer. We can’t. I know. Status and all. I guess we just have to endure for the next couple of days,” I ramble uncontrollably in an effort to cover up my confession.

  I turn my head and decide to go for a quick exit to the bathroom. Grabbing the hem of the shirt, I drag it over my head, and throw it into the hamper. I turn on the water and wait for it to heat up. From the corner of my eye I get a glimpse of my body and it makes me wince.

  Feeling the ache and soreness and seeing the black and blue is weirdly enough making it worse in my head. I hover over the spot on my side and notice a bruise on my hip. The spot where my phone was when I hit the pavement.

  “It will fade. How is the pain? Do you need another painkiller?” Bruno questions and places a kiss on my shoulder blade before he connects our gaze in the mirror.

  In this moment–for the first time–it’s as if we’re in a real relationship. My heart does a somersault but my mind rips away the rug underneath my feet when I think about the contract we have in place.