King of Diamonds: A Dark Mafia Romance (Vegas Underground Book 1)
Page 10
His eyebrows fly up. “Okay…I’ve got a brother visiting from Chicago who busts my balls. I’m counting the minutes until he leaves.” He rubs a hand across his face. “That’s just between you and me, of course.”
“Older?”
“Yeah, of course. Thinks he’s the family’s boss.”
“Because your dad’s in jail.” When Tacone looks at me sharply, I shrug. “I know how to Google Tacone Crime Family.”
His face relaxes into a fleeting smile. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Must be hard, all those alpha males in one family.”
A laugh bursts out of him, deep and rich. The maître d’ and waitstaff look over, surprised, like they didn’t know he was capable of laughing. I become the object of curious stares.
“Yeah, I guess. I do like to be in charge. I’m the fourth son, so I knew I’d never inherit the kingdom. I think that’s why I pushed so hard to get free of them. Or as free as I could. Out of state, my own operation. It was a goddamn necessity.”
“So how many siblings altogether?”
“Five.”
“Names? Order?”
His lips twitch. “You really want to know this shit?” When I nod, he smiles again. “Okay, pay attention.” He holds up his hand to count on his fingers. “Junior is the oldest. Then Paolo, then Gio. I’m next. Stefano is last. Alessia is the baby.”
“Your mom was holding out for a girl.”
He laughs again. “Exactly. Hard to believe the rest of us didn’t break her, isn’t it?”
I like the way his face goes soft when he talks about his mom. It strikes me as a good sign. A man who loves his mom will treat a woman right. At least that’s what conventional wisdom says.
“She’s here visiting, too. My brother’s finding her a winter residence. I’d introduce you, but I like you too much to subject you to my family.”
I would laugh, but his tone is a shade too dark.
Our drinks arrive and we order our food.
“Your turn. Tell me why you love art so much, bambina.”
I smile. “Who can say why they love something? When I see beautiful art, it makes my heart yearn. Like I want to possess the beauty or the ingenuity.”
“You ever want to be an artist?”
I shake my head. “No. I just love to study the history of it. It’s fascinating to me.”
“Who’s your favorite artist?”
I take a sip of wine. “Too hard a question. I could tell you my favorite from each period?”
“All right.” He watches me so intently, I shift in my seat. “Surrealist.”
“It’s cliché, but I have to say Picasso.”
He smiles like I gave the right answer.
“Are you a fan?”
“Me?” He shrugs. “Never thought much about it. Not sure I care one way or the other.” His phone buzzes and he checks the text, then sends something back. It buzzes again.
He curses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sondra, baby—will you excuse me for five minutes?” He’s already out of his seat. “Please don’t leave. I really want to show you something after dinner.” He waits, pinning me with a questioning look.
The fact that he suggests I’ll leave tells me it will be more than five minutes. I don’t relish the idea of sitting here by myself, but then again, it’s an expensive restaurant with gourmet food. I might as well enjoy it. And I’d be a bitch to begrudge Nico for needing to leave. He has a whole freaking casino to run.
I nod. When he leaves, I pull out my phone to keep me company and the waiter brings just my food. My stomach knots when I see a text from a Reno number. I didn’t program his name into my phone when I changed my number, but I know it’s Tanner’s. He must’ve finally found someone to give him my new number.
Sondra, this is urgent. You can keep the car, but I need something out of it.
The next text came a half hour later.
Seriously. It’s really important.
Then one five minutes ago.
Like life or death important.
I look at the lobster on my plate and lose my appetite.
Crap. Tanner had drugs in the car. The knowing comes with the calmness of the eye of a storm. My DJ party boy ex peddled a little ecstasy. At least that’s what I knew. Sounds like he was into bigger deals than I understood.
And the car? The car is long gone. I had it towed to the wreckage yard. I mean, maybe he can find it and get back what he needs, but I doubt it.
Nico
I’m dealing with three idiot would-be coke dealers in my dungeon. Yes, my basement is a fucking dungeon, with an underground network of tunnels that lead out into the city. You might call them catacombs, because more than one body has been buried here.
They’re kids. Young. Stupid. Easy to scare.
Security caught them moving powder in my nightclub. They could’ve called the cops, but I prefer to deal with this kind of shit in my own way. A little dose of fear goes a helluva lot farther than the threat of a badge.
I nod at my younger cousin Sal, who busts one of the guy’s nose, then pulls his head up by the hair. All three of them have been worked over by my soldiers.
“This is Mr. Tacone, owner of the Bellissimo. He has something to say to you.”
The kid is shitting himself. I walk over and look down my nose at him. “You think you can sell drugs in my club? In my casino?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tacone,” the guy on the left babbles. “W-we didn’t know who you were. That you owned this place. We’ll never come back.”
I consider. I could make these boys my bitches and have them tithe to me from their profits, but they’re too young and stupid. They wouldn’t last long, anyway. I opt for the get out of town threat. “You have one day to leave my city. If we find you here again, you’re dead. Capiche?”
“Yes, sir, yes, Mr. Tacone.” All three babble their promises.
I nod to Sal and leave. I’m just grateful Junior didn’t get a whiff of this or he’d be all over it, just for the drama. No, he’s actually been out doing what he said he was doing—real estate shopping with our ma. She called me tonight to say they’d put an offer in on a place and were heading back to Chicago in the morning.
Normally I might stay and give this shit a bit more attention, but Sondra’s upstairs, waiting for me. At least I hope she waited.
I sent Tony to find her cousin out on the floor and send her up to keep her company. I check my watch. Fuck.
It’s been thirty minutes since I left her. She’s probably finished dinner and dessert by now. It’s crazy how much I care about whether she stuck around. How much I want to show her my surprise.
I walk as swiftly through the Bellissimo as I can, cursing the block-long floor plan that makes it nearly a mile to get back to the rooftop restaurant.
Sondra and Corey are still there, but I was right—they’re already finished with dessert and are drinking coffee. And, of course, my mom and fucking brother are sitting just a few feet away.
I grind my teeth. Cristo, would it be too much for one thing to go right tonight?
I detour to my ma and brother’s table and shower them with my most effusive host protocol. They eat it up, until Junior sees me shooting a glance at Sondra’s table. Then his eyes narrow. He sees far too fucking much, my brother.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to greet some other guests, but my staff will give you everything you could possibly desire.”
My ma offers her cheek for a kiss, but Junior just nods. I feel his eyes on me as I head to Sondra’s table.
I have to get her out of here, because if I know my prick of a brother, he’ll be sure to mention my fiancée if he suspects there’s anything between Sondra and I.
Corey stands up when I get there, and walks toward me with a cool glance. I reach in my pocket and pull out a fifty-dollar chip to hand to her as we pass. She takes it without comment.
Sondra appears upset, though. She gets up and fusses with the strap of her purse.
I’m not really one to say I’m sorry. I’ve done it more with this girl since I met her than I have in the entire last year. “I apologize—”
“It’s all right,” she says quickly.
That’s when I realize something else is up.
We’re outside the restaurant and I stop, pulling her around to face me. “What’s bothering you?”
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”
I bristle and put a knuckle under her chin. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
She pales and I close my eyes.
Cazzo.
I brought the violence of the basement back up with me. Sondra doesn’t deserve my temper. My meanness. She doesn’t deserve the darkness that is my life.
I tug her around to the bay of elevators and take one down to my suite, below. I wanted to show her my surprise, but it will have to wait. I need to know what’s going on in her head.
The moment we get inside, I fold my arms across my chest.
“Talk.”
She nibbles her lip and looks away.
“Sondra.” I infuse my voice with authority. I know I shouldn’t bully her, but it’s in my blood.
“I might need your help. And I really hate to ask for it.”
Relief sweeps through me. She has a problem that I can fix. This is what I do best. “You need money? It’s yours.” That’s usually the kind of problem people ask me to solve. That or they need protection. Or require some kind of violent justice be served.
The misery on her face staggers my confidence. “What is it, piccolina? Just tell me.”
“It’s not for me. That’s kind of the problem. It’s not even for someone I care about, other than I don’t want him to get killed.”
And then my heart solidifies into a lump of hard concrete. This is about her ex.
“And his life is in danger because of me, so…I kinda feel responsible.”
Violence pours into me like a storm. I want to kill her stronzo ex for having the goddamn audacity to even be born.
“Don’t tell me this is about your fucking ex.”
I already know it is.
Her shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
I pace away from her. “You’re so sorry for what?”
“For asking this of you.”
And that’s what puts me in a hard spot. I can’t refuse her, even though it’s for some other figlio di puttana. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from fisting them, and rotate to face her. “What is it you need?”
“I might not need anything. I mean, he’s going to come to Vegas to look for the car at the salvage yard.”
I can’t stand the way she fidgets with her purse strap, can’t take her agitation.
“He had drugs stashed in it. I guess a lot. And he owes someone thirty thousand now.”
I turn away as dark red anger floods my vision. My fist cracks through the drywall in front of me.
“Nico,” she chokes. “Never mind. I’m sorry.” When I turn back, I see tears tracking down her cheeks.
My brain goes haywire, wanting to inflict violence on the guy who made her cry, not computing it’s me. After a breath, some other instinct kicks in and the need to comfort her sends me across the room. I want to pull her into my arms, to cup her face, and thumb away the tears, but I don’t trust myself to touch her. Not when I’m so hot to hurt someone.
“You’re crying over him?” I demand, too harshly.
To my surprise, she smacks my chest. “No, I’m crying over you.” I somehow manage not to stagger back. Her words gut me. “I’m crying because you think I give a shit about him. Because of what I’m doing to our relationship asking for this.”
And then I’m lost in relief. In gratitude. My hands are all over her, yanking her clothes off. I meld my mouth to hers and back her up against the wall. I have her skirt up, her panties pulled to the side and my finger strokes along her dewy slit. “What’s our relationship, bambi?”
She stiffens, but I don’t back off. I devour her mouth, screw one finger inside her. “What’s our relationship? Are you saying you’re my girl?”
“Nico,” she whimpers, her head sliding along the wall as I push my finger in and out.
“Huh? Are you mine, Sondra?” I shove another finger in, fuck her with both of them. “You gonna accept that I own this pussy now? You give it to me any time I demand it?”
She clutches my forearms. Little sex cries come from her lips, but she’s pushing me away. I know I’m going way too far, but I can’t stop myself. I want to hear her say it. I want her to admit she’s mine.
“Nico,” she repeats my name.
“Say it, baby. You belong to me now. Say it and I’ll help the figlio di puttana. So long as you promise never to talk to him again.”
“I promise,” she says quickly.
I withdraw my fingers and she gasps in surprise, her eyes opening and focusing on mine. “Say it.”
“I-I belong to you.”
“Good girl.” Pure power runs through me now. Like the adrenaline of a fight, of a kill. I pull a condom from my pocket and unbuckle my belt.
She watches me with glazed eyes, her chest still heaving from the finger fucking.
I make quick work of the condom and flatten her against the wall, shoving my dick between her legs.
She takes me, lifting one leg to draw me in.
“That’s it, piccolina. Take every goddamn inch of me. This is the cock that owns you.”
Her cries grow louder, her head rolling against the wall. The hole where my fist went through is just to her right, a reminder of what I’ve earned.
She wraps both legs around my waist, like she did in the shower and I get even deeper inside her. Wanting to fuck her so hard her teeth rattle, I carry her to the bedroom and lay her on the edge of the bed. Then I pound into her, my sanity slipping with each glorious thrust. I’m like a fucking gladiator, or a ruthless, rutting beast. I’m not thinking about her pleasure, not holding back from the violence with which I need to claim her.
One moment I think I could go all night, just dip my dick in her over and over again until the earth falls apart. And the next, I’m coming like a freight train.
I roar and slam deep.
Sondra screams and wraps her legs behind my back, using her heels to pull me even deeper. I come and come and come some more as her muscles squeeze my dick.
And then we break apart. I stagger to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
When I come back, Sondra’s sitting up, eyes wide and frightened. She stands and pulls down her skirt.
“Hey.” I reach for her, but she turns away. I pull her back against my front, wrap my arms around her and hold her fast. “You’re scared.”
She draws in a long, shaky breath.
“Don’t be scared of me, piccolina. I’m a dick. I say asshole things. Doesn’t mean I don’t respect you.” I turn her to face me. She bursts into tears again and I go ice cold. What have I done? “I’m sorry.” I cup the back of her head, lift her face to me. “Did I hurt you? Look at me, Sondra. Please? Did you feel like I forced you?”
“No.” She answers immediately, which gives me some measure of relief.
“What is it, then?”
She wipes her tears. “It was just intense.”
I pull her right up against my body, hold her tight. “Hell, yeah, it was intense. For me, too.”
She blinks those big blue eyes at me. “Why was it intense for you?”
I consider for a moment. I want to answer truthfully, but the answer scares the shit out of me.
Because she cares. She cares about me. And our relationship.
And this is exactly why I shouldn’t be messing with sweet Sondra Simonson. Because I’m not even remotely available. Even if I wasn’t promised to another, I
can’t devote the time and attention to her that she deserves. Just look how poorly tonight went—our date ruined by the kind of mishap that happens hourly around here.
Sondra’s already giving me her heart, and I’d be the worst kind of stronzo to take it.
The very worst.
Sondra
“So you’ll help?”
Nico grimaces, but he nods. “I’ll help you.”
I clutch his arm. “You won’t hurt him?”
His nostrils flare. “I can’t fucking stand you begging me on his behalf, bambi.”
I can’t really stand it, either. Tanner shouldn’t be screwing up my relationship with Nico. But I feel responsible for taking the car. I knew when I did it, it was the wrong thing to do, but I wanted to punish him. But not with death.
I drop my forehead against his chest and he strokes the back of my neck. I still can’t believe such a powerful man is so into me, but knowing he’s willing to give me this means everything.
“I won’t hurt him,” he mutters, disgust registering in his voice. “But if it costs me thirty large, I’m going to take payment out on your ass.”
I jerk my head up to read his expression and find him smirking. My butt clenches at the threat. Does he mean more spanking? Because I pretty much loved every time he’s done it.
“Give me the details on the car. I’ll send my guys over there tonight to find the drugs.” I tell him everything I can about the car and the salvage yard and he gets on his phone and barks orders. When he hangs up, I thank him.
“Do I still get my surprise?”
He barks out that booming laugh and it seems to surprise even him. “Yes, piccolina. Come on.” He grabs my hand and suddenly we’re headed out the door of his suite, back into the elevator. He uses his keycard to punch in a number, which means we’re going to a private floor. I’m intrigued.
He pushes me up against the elevator wall and claims my mouth, not stopping the kiss until the doors open and I squirm. Then he turns on a dime and tugs me out of the elevator, moving briskly through what appear to be management offices. We arrive at a door flanked by two security guards.