Umberto: Mafia Romance (Andolini Crime Family Book 3)

by Coco Miller

  How did my life turn from being able to play inside of the halls of this lovely hotel among warm smiling guests and cool as hell staff members, to now hiding out in the dingy laundry room from trained killers?

  I need to get out of here, but how? The campus isn’t too far away. It’s only a few blocks, but what if Umberto follows me? Shit, he already knows where I work. What if he goes after Racheal or crazy ass Starbright? What if it isn’t really him, I need to be worried about? What if it’s those other two guys, and they follow me or go after Racheal and Starbright?

  This day is going down as the worst ever. Point blank period. As I find my way to the door I remember. It leads to a service elevator, and you need a keycard to access that lift. From the staff closet, I find a clean uniform and quickly pull it on over my dress from last night, concealing it quite well under the frumpy fabric. I wish I could hide my face better, but there isn’t anything that is part of this uniform that could do that without looking even more suspicious. Ironically, I have to show more of my face to blend in because the maids are required to wear their hair in a tight bun at the nape of the neck.

  I grab a few tissues from a workstation and wipe my mouth clean of the lipstick I just put on. I don’t want anyone to look at me at all. I want to be as plain as a girl named Jane. From the workstation, I spy a badge with a keycard, and I swipe it, feeling super guilty for stealing it, but I have no other choice right now. I’ll figure out a way to make it right later on. If I survive this. Whatever this is.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to slow down my heart as it thumps almost painfully in my chest, feeling stressed to the freaking max. The heavy metal door is loud as I try to pull it open, scraping against an ill-fitting frame from its age and use. Once open, I slowly peer out into the hallway and make sure everything is clear. All seems silent as the dead. One last deep breath, and I make a run for it, pushing a cart full of cleaners and laundry in front of me to continue with blending in.

  I swipe the elevator with my keycard, and I’m right back to where I was this morning, begging God to open an elevator door. Except for this time, it falls much faster, and the door springs open without men trying to shoot my face off, much to my pleasure and grateful soul.

  It doesn’t take me long to remember my way around the building from this access point. Once the elevator lands on the right floor, I use my keycard on a new room, praying when I turn the handle no one will be on the other side.

  The room is posh, and whoever is staying here is too. I quickly find a new outfit in the closet to change into, run from the room, and find my way back to the elevator. Inside the confinement of the metal walls, I use my lipstick from my bag to block out the watchful eye of the security camera.

  Quickly I change my clothes from the horrible stuffy maids’ uniform to the nice black dress that I took from that guest’s room. I’ll figure out how to make things right later. For now, I shake out my wash and go, and when the bell rings to the lobby floor, I try to not run as fast as possible to the door. Ditching the bundle of clothes in a trash can in the hall, I do my best to pace myself and look casual.

  I try to use the side furthest from the counter, and my plan seems to work as I make my way to the door, finding freedom. It’s a little chilly outside as I make my escape. I hug my arms around my body and slice through the thick lines of people that fill the sidewalk.

  It only takes me a few minutes to get to the campus, and when I do, I take a good look around, scanning the crowd to make sure I don’t see any of the men, including Umberto, from the hotel where the shit went down earlier. All I see are guys my age dressed in hoodies staring at their phones while with a group of so-called friends.

  I know I sound bitter, but really, my generation needs to do better. As a society, we definitely need to look up more, and down at our phones less. Hell, look at what just happened to me. What if I hadn’t been paying attention? I might have been killed without even seeing the faces of my killers or shot in the crosshairs of their fight with Umberto. The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

  Anyhow... I make my way back to my dorm room only to find that the sign on the damn door is flipped again, which is supposed to signal that my roomy is hooking up with someone and I cannot interrupt them. Which really pisses me off. I need to get into my room.

  I storm myself to the cafe to check on Rachel. I also double-check to make sure I’m not being followed. Starbright is working today, and I ask her if she’s seen Racheal, but she says she has the day off. I ask her if I can work because hell, at least I’ll be around people here until my class begins. But she refuses, telling me some bullshit about how I need to align my chakras and shit. Whatever, sis.

  So I make my way back to the dorms. The sign is still flipped on the door, and I don’t even care this time. I bust my way in and gasp when I step through. On my bed is a sight I did not expect to find... never, never, never. And no, this isn’t like that one time when I found my roomy having sex on the computer desk with mystery man number 300. This is like some crazy stalker type of thing.

  It’s him.

  On my purple comforter-covered bed is Umberto Bova. I try to escape, but he rushes the door and grabs me around the waist, pulling me back into the room. His hand is gloved, and he covers my mouth for a second.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” he says seriously, moving his hand away. “But I need you to listen.”

  “Get away from me!” I kick at him, but his lethal hands hold me still.

  “You’re gonna need me, Victoria. So, I suggest you listen to what I say, and do not try to fight me on this. Either way, pretty girl, you’re coming with me. So, let’s just make it easy on us both, got it?”

  “Get the fuck away from me.” I refrain from spitting at him. I’m too damn classy to be caught up in some Jerry Springer type of fight. Instead, I try to knee him in the balls, but he’s too damn fast and dodges my attempt.

  “I don’t know why you’re running from me, babe. I’m not your problem.”

  “But you damn sure ain’t my solution.”

  “That’s to be determined.”

  Chapter Seven

  Victoria

  Umberto takes my wrists and pins me to the wall. I’d love to say that it disgusts me, but secretly it turns me the hell on. Way on. I don’t feel scared of him even though I know I should. There’s just nothing in my body that feels like it’s warning me to escape from him. No red alerts. Instead, all I want to do is get closer to him.

  Did Starbright put some kind of hippy spell on me or something? What is this feeling I have right now? A man I hardly know is inside of my dorm room after shooting his way out of a hotel (I assume), and I am honest to God turned on by him, pinning me to the wall.

  Being in this position makes me aware of a new fact; Umberto has a gun on him. I swallow hard, but he only watches the rise and fall of my chest as I take deep breaths. I want to crash my lips into his. I want him to shove me to my knees and demand to have his dick sucked by my lips.

  Holy shit. I am going to hell, aren’t I?

  “I’m not the solution, huh?” he laughs darkly, whispering in my face. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here. You need me.”

  “I don’t need shit.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, pretty girl. You need a lot of shit from me.”

  He challenges me, staring deep into my eyes with his raven-black irises. My clit aches at the threat of him entering my pussy with his huge cock again. I want him so badly I can still taste his kiss from last night.

  I lean forward and gently nip at his plump bottom lip with my teeth, then lick my tongue across the spot I nipped to soothe the pain.

  “See,” Umberto moans before expertly ripping my borrowed dress in half. I’m going to be mad about that later, but right now, I just don’t care. “You definitely me.”

  I moan as he roughly grasps my hair with his still gloved hands and crashes his lips onto mine.

  I let him kiss me and even
kiss him even more passionately in return, biting on his full bottom lip as I melt like putty in his hands. His fingers roam my mound to find the underside of my Victoria’s Secret panties and push them aside so he can swipe a long digit across my soaked pussy lips. My legs fall open as I silently beg for more.

  “Take the gloves off,” I whisper.

  “You really want to wait?”

  Hell no, I don’t want to wait. I want him to shove those thick gloved fingers up my cunt and make me come just like I crave. My wet pussy is practically begging for it as I gyrate my hips enticingly.

  Umberto gazes deep into my eyes as he finger-fucks me hard, pumping at a feverish rate. I am so close to exploding around his hand. I cry out and moan and beg for more. Part of me wants to fucking laugh at how I am now the girl getting mine in this room after being kicked out so many damn times. My roomy could never top this. I’d like to see her try to get finger-fucked against the door after a gunfight, by a man that could easily hold me his prisoner. I think I just upped the game of this whole do not disturb if the ‘fuck’ sign is on.

  “Do you remember how last night ended, baby?” he teases. “You drank too much and didn’t get the chance to be properly fucked like I planned. I rather you be sober when I fuck you ten ways from Sunday.”

  “Screw you, Umberto.”

  He kisses me hard and then falls to his knees to eat my pussy like it’s a delicious cupcake. His tongue flicks over my aching bud until my knees tremble like crazy, and my body begins to quiver and quake. Umberto slaps his fingers over my sex, punishing me blissfully.

  “Do you always let strange men sneak into your dorm and make you come like this, Victoria? Do you like almost getting caught? What if your roommate were to walk in on us right now? What if she saw me eat your pussy like this?”

  He licks me again, over my sensitive clit, and I moan loudly, my voice bouncing off the walls of the room.

  Umberto kisses my thighs again before pulling away. He pulls his dick free from his pants as he rises to his feet. He’s so damn big and thick; I have no idea how that monster dick will fit into my sore snatch today.

  “Suck me, baby.”

  “Mmm, yes. I want it so bad.”

  “Show me, Victoria. Show me how bad you want this cock to make you come. I might just oblige.”

  I fall to my knees and bob on his dick like I’m working for the relief of orgasming because damn it, I am. I love the taste of him and how his thick cock hits the back of my tight throat. I suck him hard as I take him down my throat again and again, making him moan for me to let him come in my mouth.

  I love how his fingers are twisted in my coils as I tease the tip of his swollen dick and take him deep until he’s on the edge of coming down my throat. Umberto pulls away and quickly lifts me to my feet, spins me around, and presses me against the door.

  “Your mouth is fucking magical,” he growls in my ear. “And I know this pussy is too.”

  His dripping cock presses against my wet lips, and I cry out as he sinks slowly inside of me, claiming me as his. I start to rub my needful clit feverishly; wanting to come so damn bad as he pounds into me. I feel him stretch me with his thickness, while a delicious burn starts to build inside of me. Every sensation combined quickly sends me flying high above the clouds.

  I can’t help myself as I reach back to grab hold of his thick dark locks and shamelessly beg him to beat my pussy harder. He obliges my needs until we’re coming together. The chorus of our moans filling up the tiny room as sex fills the air and sweat trickles down our bodies. I forget all about the weather outside and how cold I was less than an hour ago as I had rushed over to the cafe.

  Damn it, the cafe. Racheal!

  “Shit, get off me.” I push at him, looking frantically around the room for my panties. He’s lucky he’s so damn good at making me come, or I would be really pissed off about that dress right now. How am I supposed to get it cleaned and returned to its owner now?

  “I have to find Racheal,” I say in a hurry, flying to my closet to find something else. I opt this time for something more suitable for the cold air outside, even though I’m still overheated from that amazing sex. I slip on a light pink pair of sweats and a matching top and jacket.

  Umberto snickers as he tugs his pants back on, his hair a wild mess on top of his head from my roughness. Oops.

  “What’s so damn funny?” I ask.

  “Nothing, it’s just you look like cotton candy. In a good way. Like I’d love to rip that pink shit all off of you and eat that sweet pussy of yours all over again.”

  I try to form a coherent sentence.

  “I need to find Racheal.”

  “Pretty girl, you’re mine. Did you forget? Do you need a reminder?” He crosses the room and electricity walks with him, coursing its way right back between my legs.

  “Prettyboy, I belong to no one. Not a damn soul. And my friend might be in danger, thanks to you and whoever those thugs were. I need to find her.”

  “No one gives a shit about her. You’re the only one in danger, Victoria Holt, heiress to the Holt empire.”

  “I’m not an heiress to anything. If you knew me beyond the tabloids, then you would know that, smartypants.”

  “You’re in danger standing right where you are because I’m in the same room as you. Because, as I said, you’re mine.”

  “Look, Umberto, I know some girls love all this super possessive stuff, but I’m not one of them. I happen to be a very independent woman who speaks my mind and works for what I have. So, while it’s very cute and all that you’d like to be my man, I’ll have to pass on the offer. We’ve known each other for like–” I snap my fingers. “Two seconds.”

  He grins. “You’re going to be fun, you know that?”

  Umberto lets out a hard breath as he tucks his hands in his trouser pockets, revealing guns on each of his sides as he pushes back his suit jacket. My heart races. What the hell? Who needs that many guns on their body?

  “I know we have shared our names, but I guess we have not been properly introduced yet, Victoria. I’m Umberto Bova, and I run New York. My biggest fans called me Lucifer as a compliment. And my enemies don’t get a chance to make up names because, well...” he shrugs with a glint of sheer wickedness in his dark midnight eyes. “Maybe that’s for another time. But my point is, no one in this city tells me no. Not the people who owe me money. Not the people who work for me and my crew. And not princesses who fuck like goddesses and have big plans to become a doctor. Now...” he glances down at the hammer on his weapon. “Once again, we can do this the hard way, or we can do this my way. I prefer my way. It ends with a lot more orgasms and a lot less shit to cover up.”

  I’m stunned into silence, which is not an easy feat. How did I get here? All I wanted was a cup of coffee, and now I’m being claimed. No wait…kidnapped? Is that what the hell this is? And what is he going to do with me after that? Should I fight? Should I scream? Is he joking? He laughs again as he scans over my clothes.

  “I’m not going–“

  “Babe, it’s already tough enough that you’re gorgeous, but you’re gonna have to lose the cotton candy outfit. Gangsters don’t make themselves obvious, and you are a neon sign lighting up the sky in that thing. So like I said, are we doing this the hard way or the easy way?”

  Well, damn.

  I guess he is serious.

  Chapter Eight

  Victoria

  There’s a section of housing I’ve only heard about in New York. It’s called Billionaires Row, and the only reason I know anything about any ‘rows’ belonging to billionaires is that I saw it on Bravo’s Million Dollar Listing. That is as close as I ever got to seeing a property like that. How sad, right? A girl that grew up in the public eye with parents owning the better portion of hotel real estate doesn’t even have a condo. Dammit, I don’t even have a car.

  After what happened with my parents’s fortune, I never thought in a million years I’d be anywhere near this type of luxury
and exclusiveness. Not only do investors like experts of Wall Street type men live here, but also, the tech type of dudes, and then, of course, movie stars and athletes and people from those walks of life.

  If you’re somebody big in the world, you live here, basically. And apparently, you don’t even have to make a legitimate living to be either. You can be a straight-up mafia gangster and have a condo worth millions of dollars in one of the best zip codes in all of New York. This is where Umberto Bova decided to take me when he kidnapped me. A freaking luxury pad twenty stories in the sky.

  “You like?” he asks.

  “It’s all right,” I lie nonchalantly.

  I grew up living in nice hotels all over the world, but I can’t lie, they never came close to comparing to this place. First of all, just to get to his floor requires fingerprint verification and armed guards. Sure, they don’t look armed, but it’s the way they greet him and act that lets me know it’s all very much a big deal, and what is worse is how they look at me. Has Umberto ever even had a woman up to his place before? Because by the way they stare at me, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, I’d venture to say he has not.

  I know he must’ve had plenty of women with his body and sexual expertise, but I doubt he’s ever had love or anything close. He doesn’t exactly come off as the type who would partner up with a soulmate and let down his guard and share all his dirty little secrets. As much as I don’t want to know any of this crap, I think I better start to pretend to care if I’m going to survive whatever the hell he has planned for me.

  He said back at my dorm room that he thought I was an heiress to the Holt Hotel throne, but that’s not in my future, despite what the press likes to report. They think my dad might be lying. As if he’s got a secret stash of money or stocks somewhere. Trust me when I say he doesn’t. I’m really just a big nobody these days. A college girl paying for my life with loans and as a job as a barista in a halfway decent coffee shop. My biggest claim to fame these days is making a killer macchiato.