Ruthless Prince : A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Dark Syndicate Book 1)

by Faith Summers

  “Does she come here often?”

  He smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. “Be careful, Princesca. I may start thinking you’re jealous.”

  “I have nothing to be jealous of,” I snap, answering too quickly. “You can be with whoever you want.”

  “Really? And… you’d be okay with that?” He narrows his gaze and climbs fully onto the bed, studying me.

  “I don’t care what you do. This is business, and I fall part of the assets, right?”

  We stare at each other for a few seconds. Then he tugs at the sheet. I lash out to smack his hands away when he tries to pull it down from my breasts, but he catches my wrists.

  “Don’t touch me.” I wince.

  He, however, tightens his grip on my wrist and lowers his head to press his lips to my ear.

  “I can touch you whenever I want, Princesca. You belong to me. You just said it yourself. You fall part of the assets. You remember signing your name, right?”

  Enraged, I try to pull my hand from his, but he just holds on tighter. “I was forced. That’s not the same thing as me giving myself to you.”

  “Interesting choice of words.” He holds up my hand and plants a kiss on my knuckles.

  “They are just words.”

  “Maybe so, but I think… you’re curious.” I flinch and raise my brows.

  “What am I curious about, Massimo?”

  He runs his finger over the back of my palm. “To see what it would be like to give yourself to me. To see what it would be like if I hadn’t stolen you away from your father. Curious to see what it would be like to be with me, for you to give in to desire.”

  “No…” I mutter, swallowing past the lump that’s formed in my throat as the desire he speaks of quickens my pulse.

  “Take the sheet off,” he commands, his tone level.

  “Why?”

  “I want to see you.” His gaze drops to my breasts. My entire body blushes at the wild sexual flames that dance in his eyes.

  “You saw me already.”

  “I want to see you again.”

  “What if I don’t want you to see me?” I challenge.

  “That’s not up to you. You don’t follow instructions well, do you, Princesca?”

  “Are you always such an ass?” I throw back.

  “Yes.”

  “You like humiliating me, don’t you?” I say in a small voice.

  “Sweetheart, when a man asks you to strip, it’s not because he wants to humiliate you. It’s because he likes looking at your body.” His lips lift into a mutinous tilt, and he gives me a disarming grin. When his eyes cloud and darken with that wild sexual haze, it grips me, and the stir of arousal swirls deep in my core.

  He comes closer and hovers over me with that smile and that look, snaring me further. “Emelia… when a man asks you to strip, it’s because he wants you, Princesca.”

  The strangest thing happens to me on hearing those words. I forget. Just for a moment, I forget… everything. Shame and desire mingle hot in my throat, and the raw power of attraction holds me at its will.

  I drop my guard. He sees the moment I do. This time when the devil tugs at the sheet, I allow him to.

  He pulls it right off me, exposing my nakedness to him once more. My nipples pucker at the hungry look in his eyes, and my body heats when he runs his finger from the tip of my chin right down to the valley between my breasts.

  The urge to tell him to go away fades away, blending into the air when he climbs closer.

  “Lie back and spread your legs for me,” he commands. The mellow baritone of his voice laces with sexual heat. Husky with desire.

  My breath quickens. I swallow hard. The question enters my mind again through the haze. What is he going to do to me? The build of pressure rising inside my body terrifies me because I’m not sure I would put up a fight if he decided to take me.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I whisper.

  “Play with you,” he says.

  “Play?”

  “Play. Tonight, we play. So, lie back and feel me.”

  My heart races. He’s watching me in that predatory way again. Eyes focusing on my every move, my every action. Smiling when I obey and lie back on the stack of pillows with my legs spread so he can play with me.

  He gets on top of me fully, locking me into the cage of that wild sexual energy. His breath tickles and tantalizes my nose as he lingers there before me, looming over me, looking at me.

  “Stop fighting it,” he says, as if he can read my mind. His fingers flutter over my pussy lips. I flinch. I move away, but he pulls me back. “I’m not going to do anything to you that you don’t want me to do.”

  I tremble under the weight of his stare that bores its way through me. I don’t want him to be able to see straight through me. He can though. That smile on his face says he can.

  Brushing his nose along mine is the start. Then he presses his lips to my cheek and kisses my skin. He avoids my lips, but it’s like I can feel him there too. His lips trail down to my neck, slowly, so slowly. Desire warms my insides.

  One kiss follows another, and another, until my body comes alive with the scatter of heat. Kissing my neck, he travels down to the huge swells of my breasts and kisses my nipples, licking at the tips then teasing with his tongue.

  I grab the sheet when he sucks my left nipple. My pussy clenches from the jolt of pleasure. He stops sucking, and that devilish smile from the other night returns to his face, scaring me.

  “Have you ever allowed a man to suck your breasts before, Princess?” the devil asks, holding my gaze.

  “No…”

  “Do you like it?” he whispers in my ear. Embarrassment fills me.

  I look away, but he catches my face and guides my gaze back to his.

  “Answer me… don’t be afraid. Tell me if you like it.” His grip tightens on my jaw.

  “Yes…” I hear myself say. I can’t believe I said that.

  Satisfaction lightens his eyes from the dark molten heat. He lowers his head to suck again. Sucking hard while he reaches to my right to capture the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  Conflict rides through my soul when I start feeling good. His mouth sucking my breast feels amazing. His fingers caressing me feels like nothing I can quite describe.

  I can’t control the mindless moan that escapes my lips, no more than I can control the arch of my back as he starts sucking harder. He moves from one breast to the other, sucking and swirling his tongue around my nipple.

  The pleasure that rushes through my veins becomes too much. I groan out a loud moan when a greedy orgasm takes me over the edge.

  I fall, and he takes full advantage of my weakened, aroused state to move down to my pussy and start lapping up my release.

  He spreads my legs wider, buries his face right there between my thighs, and drinks.

  He drinks as he runs his hands over my ass, which still stings, and holds me to him so he can suck the sensitive, swollen nub of my clit. My body takes over. Somehow, my hands move to his head, encouraging him to continue. He does. But not before looking up at me and smiling at my defeat.

  I couldn’t resist him. I still can’t. He has me right where he wants me, wanting him to continue his feast on me.

  When I start moaning again, he reaches up and grabs my breasts, massaging the mounds while he eats me out, taking me to the height of pleasure again.

  Raw ecstasy shoots through me, sizzling every part of my body, and I come again. I come hard, harder than before, so hard I can’t catch my breath.

  He drinks again, taking it all until there’s nothing left, and I’m drained.

  Drained and panting, I can barely focus when he rises and licks his lips, taking the last traces of my arousal into his mouth.

  My hands falls to the bed, limp, but he catches it and positions himself on his knees so I can see the massive bulge of his cock pressing against his boxers. Shock spreads through me when he brings my hand to the bulge and cl
amps my fingers over his hard length. He makes me rub up and down his cock and holds my hand to him so I don’t let go.

  “That is what you do to me, Princesca,” he confesses. I feel hot all over again. “Do you want to know a little secret?”

  A secret?

  There are so many floating around. Too many.

  Knowing one would lessen the burden of not knowing anything.

  “Yes.”

  A smile dances across his lips. “I’m curious about you too. I’ve been curious since that night I first saw you. You, Emelia Balesteri, my enemy’s daughter.”

  As I stare back at him and take in his words, I know he’s not talking about Saturday. What he’s referring to sounds older. Like it was a long time ago.

  If I’d seen this guy before, I’d remember. When is he talking about?

  “What night?” I ask.

  “The ball.”

  “The charity ball?” He was there.

  “You can call it that. It’s best you call it that, Princesca. The truth would hurt you too much, and I don’t want to hurt you that way tonight,” he answers as he moves away from me.

  My skin flushes when I realize I was still holding on to his cock. I push the embarrassment away and stare back at him.

  What did he mean? I can call it that. I thought the charity ball was exactly that.

  I was nervous but so happy to finally join Dad at one of his events. It was the first time he’d ever taken me to anything like that. That ball was a few months before I turned nineteen. I felt so grown up and like a representative of Dad and the company. He even introduced me to one of the investors. It was a good night for me.

  “If it wasn’t a charity, what was it?” I ease up onto my elbows.

  “No. No, Princesca,” he says, lying next to me. He reaches out and pulls me closer, setting the sheet back over me then him. “I like you like this. Innocent and untainted. Unknowing.”

  Thoughts from earlier return as we stare at each other. Once again, I know he’s referring to Dad in some way. He keeps saying things to make me question what I know. Making me question Dad.

  Making me question him, and myself, and what we just did.

  It’s all going to drive me crazy.

  If I stay here, that’s exactly what will happen to me.

  I’ll lose my mind. And I’ll lose myself too.

  Chapter Ten

  Massimo

  I’m on my way to see Andreas and about ten minutes away from his place.

  I tear down the road on my motorcycle, riding way past the speed limit. I need the speed and the feel of that edge of danger racing through my veins to clear my mind.

  I’ve been opting for my car over my bike over the last few weeks. No particular reason. I just like it. The same way I felt like riding the Ninja X2 bike today.

  I think I needed that buzz to take my mind off everything.

  It’s been four days. Exactly four days since Emelia has been in my care, and the woman is growing on me. I know well enough not to divulge too much information to her that won’t matter.

  Part of me thinks it matters, though, because I want her to hate her father the same way I do. I want her to see him for the devil he is.

  Sometimes I still feel the press of his gun against my temple. My mind tracks back to the day of my mother’s funeral, and I’m that twelve-year-old boy again, unable to do shit to Riccardo to defend myself. I hate that prick so much. The thought of Emelia thinking the sun shines from his ass makes me sick.

  At the same time, she’s dirty by association to him. She’s his daughter. It’s enough for me to destroy them both. It’s enough for me to want to cut them down like grass. His empire and his precious daughter.

  If only I didn’t want her.

  Four days, and this is me.

  Last night, when I mentioned the charity ball and watched confusion settle onto her pretty face, I felt sorry for her. Sorry for her and more disgusted at Riccardo for taking her to something like that. The Syndicate is a band of powerful men. They have a shit load of money. When you have money like that, it comes with certain privileges. Dark, arcane powers that normal people would never have access to, or ever conceive.

  The charity ball is an example of that. Dressed to look like a fundraising event where members of the associated companies can indeed raise money for their sponsored charities, it also masks other activities. Things people class as dark and label the Syndicate as such.

  Activities like auctions of virgins and the sale of young women are just some examples. Take your nineteen-year-old daughter to an event like that and dress her in black, and that opens the floor for bidding. While the Syndicate provides the facilities for darker tastes like that, they don’t monitor it. So, Ricardo could have dealt with anyone.

  Emelia was like a lamb led to the slaughterhouse. Unknowing why she was really there and probably thinking it was some privilege. Innocent. She shouldn’t have been a part of that.

  I woke this morning with her still pressed up against me. Naked and perfect. My cock is still hard from the memory of her. My heart still warmed from the way her fingers fluttered over my chest as she curled into me, her hair sprawled out on the pillow, like we’d spent the night having wild sex.

  I was being serious when I said I was curious about her too. I shared a secret I shouldn’t have by telling her that.

  For things to go the way I want, I can’t under any circumstances show emotion. This whole ordeal is a war between families that started years ago. The moment her father thought he could steal from mine and try to ruin his life.

  The thing is, doing all this won’t change the past. Not a damn bit. It won’t do shit. It won’t bring my mother back. I know deep in my heart that my father’s life was ruined the moment he knew my mother killed herself.

  Riccardo is the enemy, and so is Emelia. I can’t allow myself to feel for her.

  I park on Andreas’ drive and get off my motorcycle. This visit was a long time coming. I should have made it already. Things are not okay between us. I can feel it, and I can’t allow the shit to continue if I want to be the kind of boss I hope to be.

  Setting my helmet on the handle, I make my way past his convertible, which is open. Inside I notice a pair of panties.

  He lives in a condo. He has the smallest house of all of us because he’s never in. When he’s not working at D’Agostinos, he’s sailing. At least we share that similarity with our love for anything to do with the water.

  I walk up the steps to the door and notice that it’s open. It’s fucking nine in the morning, and he’s got his car and door open without a guard in sight.

  Given the circumstances, I feel for my piece in my back holster.

  It’s not like him to be so sloppy.

  I make my way upstairs to his bedroom and instantly regret opening the door the moment I do.

  In his bed are two naked women, fast asleep on top of the covers. Standing beside them is Andreas, getting a blow job from a naked blond woman.

  “Fuck!” He winces when he sees me. I back away, closing the door.

  Shit. I’m already in his bad books. Fuck, do I know how to make a situation worse than it is.

  I walk into the kitchen and stand by the door, noticing bottles of wine and other bottles of liquor. Empty and full.

  He comes in minutes later wearing a pair of joggers and one of his old college T-shirts.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize.

  “Don’t mention it,” he replies and looks over the mess in the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?” he asks.

  “Came to see if you were alright.”

  He chuckles. “I’m fine, brother. As you can see, I’m living my best life. Two women in my bed and another sucking my dick. What could be better than that?”

  It’s like watching someone who strived for excellence fall in shit. “It’s not like you to spend the night with whores.”

  “Don’t you have a whorehouse?” He raises a brow.

&n
bsp; I bite the inside of my lip. “That’s different.”

  “How? Massimo, please, whores are a natural part of the package. We all have them. You have them in abundance. And I know this marriage shit isn’t just going to suddenly change you overnight. You’re not wired that way. So, that aside. I’m sure there was a purpose for your visit, Boss.” The corner of his lips curl and his eyes darken.

  “Andreas…” I start, but I don’t know what to say to him.

  Sorry Pa chose me above you? Sorry I chose Tristan to be part of the syndicate, not you?

  He must be pissed as fuck.

  “What? Massimo, what? You know as well as I do that there’s nothing to say. It is what it is. No more, no less. Pa chose who he wants to take the lead, and you chose who you want to support you. It is what it is,” he says with a nod.

  “You aren’t okay with it,” I state, cutting to the chase.

  He chuckles. “Brother, I have to be okay with it.”

  “I want you on board, Andreas.”

  He reaches out a hand and holds my shoulder. “You are my brother. I will back you in whatever you do. That’s all you need to know. Doesn’t matter if I look like shit and act like shit. I’m just… licking my wounds. You’d do the same if you were me. And I’d be in your shoes. Going to your place to sort you out.”

  He releases his grip on me.

  “I just want to know you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine. I guess sometimes I get stuck in tradition. The oldest son usually gets to be boss. But hey, if Pa were traditional, maybe the right person would never get chosen.” He gives me a curt nod.

  I won’t say anything against Pa. He’s a fair man and my fucking idol. I don’t care if I sound like a pussy thinking that, but it’s true. The man laid the cards on the table and gave his four sons a chance to shine. That’s what he did. I won the leadership fair and square.

  I just hope it hasn’t cost me my older brother.

  “I need you to take care of business at D’Agostinos,” I say to him.

  We never got to go over what I’d talked to the others about because we went on the streets to look into Pierbo’s death. The most I got to tell him was that I was splitting the business four ways. That was all.