Frivolous: A DARK MAFIA AGE-GAP ROMANCE

by Veronica Lancet

  Yes, that must be it. Her beauty must be addling my brains, since there's no way in hell I'd ever like a harpy like her.

  She's spoiled, mean and downright nasty.

  The horse semen prank and the many videos of me drenched in it circulating online should tell me as much.

  Even with ninety percent negative qualities, there's still something about her that makes me want to go crazy at thinking anyone would dare come close to her. Why, I'd been ready to fucking murder that kid for hugging her.

  This isn't normal.

  I pull in the parking lot of a clinic, adjusting my pants as I get out of the car so that my erection isn't as visible.

  Then, I all but drag her to the lab.

  "What are we doing here?" She frowns when she sees that it's a health clinic.

  "You're getting tested," I tell her, none too nicely.

  "Tested? What do you mean?"

  "You'll see," I grunt.

  Opening the door, I quickly grab two forms, watching closely as she fills hers in.

  "STDs?" She frowns when she reads the small print. "Why?" She looks up at me and fuck... If angels were ever to come down on earth, they'd look like her. But they sure as hell wouldn't be as mean.

  "I need to know you didn't give me any weird shit," I tell her as I take the form from her, checking the boxes to test for all diseases.

  "Maybe you gave me something," she snickers, turning her nose up at me.

  "As if," I snort. "Your pretty mouth's the only place I've been in a long time." I grab her jaw as I turn her face towards me. "The same can't be said for you, though," I grit my teeth as I say the words out loud, the thought of another touching her, or worse, her welcoming that touch, sending me over the edge.

  "You're an asshole," she hisses at me, finally showing her claws.

  "Good on you to notice, sunshine," I say as I lean in, teasing her with the ghost of a touch, my lips hovering on hers, my breath on her lips.

  But I don't go further. No, I can't go further. Because I know if I got one taste of those lips, she'd be on her back, legs spread, without a care for who's watching.

  Fuck! I need to get myself under control.

  Taking the form to the front desk, I wait until we're called to have our blood drawn. When it's Gianna's turn, though, I don't leave her side as I watch every step of the way, ensuring she does go through with it.

  She's silent as we go back to the car, and I realize she's quietly seething at me, so I just wait until it's time for her outburst—knowing one is imminent.

  "I hate you," she spits at me as she holds on to the arm where she'd gotten her blood drawn from.

  "The feeling's mutual," I smirk at her.

  "Really? It sure didn't seem like that from where I was standing," she arches a brow at me. "You know, on my knees, with your cock in my mouth," she makes a sick expression, trying to show me how much I disgust her.

  "But that's just the thing. You're good for a fuck. For anything else..." I trail off, enjoying the quick outrage that crosses her features.

  "Wow, said the guy who has to blackmail someone to suck his dick," the corner of her mouth curls up. "That's why it's been a long time, isn't it?" A cruel smile appears on her face. "With that face you have to force someone to blow you."

  "Careful, sunshine," I warn her.

  "But that's just it, isn't it?" she continues goading me, and I see how much she's enjoying it. She leans towards me in her seat, her face close to mine as she moves slowly, almost sensually. "Even whores scoff at your money, don't they? How could anyone want to look at this?" Her finger comes up to trace the scarred ridge above my brow.

  I stiffen, her touch on me the last drop.

  Before I know it, my hand is on her neck as I push her back against the seat and settle on top of her.

  "What is it, mutt?" she flutters her lashes at me. "Don't tell me you'll fuck me now? Is that the next step so you won't tell my father my secret?"

  Even with my hands around her throat, she leans closer into me, her lips close to my ear.

  "Do it. Fuck me. Who knows, I might even enjoy it," she taunts, pausing as her tongue peeks out to lick the lobe of my ear. "Or maybe I'll just give you more STDs. Why don't you find out?" She asks in a seductive voice and fuck if it doesn't send the perfect signal to my cock.

  It takes everything in me to fling her away, resuming my own seat as I buckle my seatbelt and trying to ignore the way she's spread out on her seat, her dress hiked up a little too high, her panties...

  I'm in trouble.

  "I'm on it. I already told you that," I grind my teeth as I try to get Cisco to back the fuck off.

  "Bass," he calls me by my name, something he almost never does. "Benedicto has had several meetings this week alone. He'll soon find someone, and we can't afford for that to happen, can we?"

  "Why are you so set against Guerra? Because this doesn't seem like a game anymore, Cisco. It seems personal."

  "My business is my business," he says, his tone clipped. "It's not for you to know. You only need to follow your orders and do the goddamn job. What's so hard about fucking a slut, uncle? Lift up her skirt, fuck her, destroy her and it's done."

  I don't know why him calling Gianna a slut rubs me the wrong way, but it does. Especially as he proceeds to detail how I need to broadcast her fall from grace for the entire world to see.

  I'd been apprehensive about the mission from the beginning, but now...?

  "And I told you I'd do it, but at my pace. Don't worry. You'll have a very public spectacle," I say as I hang up, throwing my phone on the bed.

  Fuck, but Cisco's been on my back nonstop to get me to finish the mission. And like I told him, I will do it. Eventually. But it's going to be on my terms.

  Still, even if fucking little miss spoiled might be the culmination of all my fantasies come to life, I'm a little reluctant to do it in such a public manner. I know what a nasty piece of work she is. And I know all about our enmity with Guerra. Even so, I'm starting to have doubts about this whole thing.

  Fuck!

  She has me wrapped around her little finger, that's for sure. Maybe if I do get to fuck her I'll be able to look at matters a little more objectively.

  It's lust. Pure, unadulterated lust that's made even more potent by the fact that I hate myself for desiring her so much.

  Opening the door to the balcony, I lean on the railing, inhaling the fresh air of the night and wishing I had a cigarette. It would certainly alleviate this emptiness I feel inside. But I'd sworn them off in prison, when someone had sold me a counterfeit that put me in the hospital for a week. Who knows what noxious substance they'd put inside, but it hadn't been the first attempt nor the last.

  The only good thing about this mission is that it's taken my mind off my newly found freedom. It's certainly not given me any time to think how much the world's changed in only five years. Still, that doesn't take away from the uneasiness that completing this mission causes me.

  I've never once questioned an order given by my boss. I've never had to.

  But now? Even knowing what I do about Gianna, and seeing firsthand how she treats other people, there's a part of me that's not keen on broadcasting her humiliation for the entire world to see.

  Yet for all my doubts, my allegiance is first and foremost to the famiglia. Everything else comes secondary.

  My attraction to her comes secondary.

  There's a small noise coming from below, and I lean over to see little miss spoiled step into the night, tiptoeing her way around the garden as she looks left and right.

  What is she up to?

  The moment that thought crosses my mind, I still. What if she's meeting someone?

  "Damn it!" I mutter as I all but dash out of the room, hot on her trail.

  The thought of her having clandestine meetings with some boy in the middle of the night has me almost going mad. And so I increase the speed of my steps, all the while making sure I'm as stealthy as she is.

 
Crossing the garden, I spot her again at the other end of the property. She's stooping low against the fence, picking something off the ground.

  A love letter? More drugs?

  Fuck, my imagination is ripe with all kinds of scenarios, none of them helpful to my mood in any way. Not when all I want is to stalk over to her side, grab her to me, and demand her to tell me who she's meeting.

  And then killing him.

  Damnation! I'd seen where killing a civilian got me, and yet I'm contemplating doing it again. Repeatedly. As many times it's necessary to remove any temptation from her side.

  I move closer to where she's standing, still trying to keep myself to the shadows.

  She's wearing a pink robe on top of a sheer nightgown. But even with all that material covering her skin, I can see the outline of her breasts, the way her nipples peek through the almost see-through gown.

  And just like that, I'm taken back to the night of the party, when I'd had my mouth on those generous globes. When I sucked on her skin, its warmth and taste imprinted on my tongue.

  Just as I get more impatient to see what she's doing, she strengthens her back, taking a few steps back but still looking down at the ground. It's only when she moves slightly to the right, dropping to her knees on the grass that I finally see what she's doing.

  "I'll be damned," the words are out of my mouth before I can help myself.

  Crouched on the ground, she's sporting an expression I've never seen on her face until now. She looks... content. Her lips are drawn up in an effortless smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Even in the darkness of the night I can bet they are sparkling with joy. There's a lightness on her features that has me simply enthralled. It goes beyond just physical beauty—and she has that in spades.

  No, there's something about her now, in her element, that has my heart racing.

  Surrounded by the green of the grass and bathed in moonlight, she looks like a forest nymph descended from the heavens to take pity on mere mortals and let them gaze upon her beauty.

  Because as I continue to watch her smile, that fucking blinding smile that has my pulse throbbing with need, I realize that it's impossible for someone to look like that.

  The malice gone from her face, it's like I'm staring at another Gianna.

  And it's all because of... fucking kittens.

  The urge to rub at my eyes is overwhelming, unsure if what I'm seeing is real in any way.

  Three small kittens are huddled together as they eat from the bowl Gianna had placed in front of them.

  So focused they are on their food, that they even allow her to pet them.

  She's softly caressing the fur of a white kitten, her features so serene it's like she's an entirely different person. Gone is the malice and the perpetual scowls that mar her features. Instead, she looks relaxed, happiness reflected on her face as she gazes lovingly at the kittens.

  She sits with them for minutes on end, until they finish their food. And as I see her return to the house, I hide deeper in the shadows of the night, watching her take the bowl back to the kitchen.

  A slow smile appears on my face as I keep my eyes on her retreating figure. Queen B might have a heart after all. But it's definitely buried under layers and layers of bitchiness.

  It seems I should start peeling away.

  The next morning, as I drive her to her archery practice, I can't help but gaze at her every now and then, trying to superimpose the expression she'd had on last night to the one she's currently sporting.

  There's this burning need inside of me to see her that carefree and happy again—but in my presence. An absurd want blooms in my chest as I realize I want her to smile like that because of me. Which is entirely hypocritical since all I seem to do is make her glower at me in anger, most times actually threatening bodily harm.

  "You should stand in the back. I don't want people to see me with you," she huffs at me as I lock the car and we step towards the archery center.

  "Should I remind you that you're not in a position to make demands, sunshine?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

  She's dressed in a pair of brown pants and a black top, both molded to her body and showing her curves in such a delicious way I have no doubt she's about to give a few heart attacks as she steps inside the venues.

  Yes, they should die before I kill them.

  Fuck!

  My fists clench as I once more realize the direction of my thoughts. I don't even like her, and yet I seem to have a perpetual problem thinking about her with anyone else. It's like a sickness eating at me, more often than not the picture of her in an intimate setting with another man making me want to lose my temper.

  That's not even the worst thing, since I've realized that the mere thought of her in bed with some other man has the power to make me physically ill.

  "Or what?" She turns towards me, hands on her hips as she tries to give me a stare down.

  I've already learned her cues, and I can tell exactly what's going to come out of that pretty mouth of hers.

  Folding my arms over my chest, I just wait.

  "Let me guess," she rolls her eyes, "you want me to get on my knees again? Right here?" She asks sarcastically as she comes towards me, ready to drop to her knees.

  I catch her before her knees hit the pavement, my fingers on her arm as I all but pull her towards me, her firm breasts making contact with my chest.

  "You just know how to get under someone's skin, don't you, Gianna?" I lower my mouth to her ear as I whisper, feeling the way her body trembles slightly at my touch.

  "What, want to fuck me now?" she retorts like a misbehaving brat.

  "Oh, no," I chuckle, my voice low. "On the contrary, you provoke such a visceral reaction in me that all I can think about is strangling this pretty neck of yours," I say as I trail my fingers up the column of her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

  No matter how much she'd like to argue to the contrary, she's not unaffected. She can insult my appearance as much as she'd like, but it seems that the mutt turns her on.

  And it's even more evident as I lean back, my gaze on the same level as hers as I look at the change in her.

  Her pupils are dilated, her skin flushed, her lips slightly parted as her breath comes in short spurts. There's a delay in reaction as she raises those big orbs towards me, looking at me as if she's never seen me before.

  And that's when I see her.

  The Gianna behind the mask. The vulnerable side of hers that she keeps tucked away, preferring to come across as cold and unfeeling.

  She's anything but, though. Not with the way she's looking at me, her eyes begging to be seen, her lips yearning to be kissed. Her body is slightly leaning towards me, the desire to be fucked clear in the way arousal drips from her every pore.

  But just as soon as I see it, it's gone.

  She shuts down.

  Pushing at my shoulders, she proceeds to insult me with every word she might think of before dashing off towards the field.

  My lips pull in a satisfied smirk as I watch her retreating figure.

  It seems Gianna and I are more alike than I'd thought. And both of us resent the fact that we're attracted to each other.

  Well, too bad for her that my mission is to take advantage of that attraction until she'll beg me to take her to bed.

  Because while I may have acted entirely out of character when I'd blackmailed her, I won't be using that tactic to get her in my bed. No, she's going to come there willingly. Maybe she'll even beg.

  And I'll enjoy every minute.

  There are only a few people present on the field, and Gianna quickly takes her spot on a lane more secluded than the others.

  She's strapped with everything she needs, and she tries very hard to ignore me when I take my position by the sidelines.

  But as I watch her take her stance, her fingers masterfully gliding over her bow to aim the arrow, I have to begrudgingly admit that she is very skilled. I'd noticed this from the first time I'd come h
ere with her, and she'd let it slip that she's been practicing since she was a child.

  The years of work are visible as her posture is flawless, the arrow flying from her hands and towards the target. I don't even have to look to know that she's hit bull's eye.

  She continues to fire arrow after arrow, her speed equally as impressive.

  Her features are drawn up in concentration, her lips pursed as she's watching for her targets. Increasingly, her shots seem more aggressive, until she finally snaps, yelling at me.

  "Mutt!" Of course she can't help herself from using her favorite insult. I still wonder why she'd chosen that particular one. I have no doubt it's somehow in connection with my scar, but I'd like a small trip inside her mind to see just what had made her think of that word.

  "What?" I ask drily as I casually stroll up to her side.

  She raises her hand, placing it to her forehead to keep the sun from her eyes as she's squinting towards the targets.

  "Go check the targets and get my arrows back," she barks the order. Still, I don't move, a smile playing at my lips.

  It takes her a couple of seconds to notice I'm still by her side.

  "Now!" she turns sharply, her eyes blazing at me.

  "Gianna, Gianna," I whistle, "I guess you forgot who owns who," I raise an eyebrow as I lean closer to her, wrapping my finger around a stray strand of hair.

  As expected, it's soft. Maybe deceivingly soft for someone like her.

  Her nostrils flare as she stares at me.

  "I might," I start, watching the play of emotions on her face and loving the way I seem to have a knack for making her lose her cool. "If you say please," I whisper against her earlobe.

  She stiffens, but she doesn't move away.

  Her eyes are still defiantly glaring at me, her entire body quaking with anger... or something else.

  My lips twitch as it finally dawns on me that all this anger is to mask her growing arousal. The fact that she can't stand herself that she lusts after a mutt.

  "Please," she grits her teeth as she says the word, and my eyes widen in surprise. I can't say I expected her to actually say it. Hell, I doubt she's said it too many times in her life.