Adrian scratches the back of his neck and looks exceptionally uncomfortable, as he says. "I only slept with a couple prostitutes before you, and it was rather bad."
"Interesting..." I'm a second away from asking him when where, and the names so I can put them out of their misery. "Then why Pink?"
"Honestly? It was the confidence. You seemed so into it, into me..." He smiles at the memory.
"I was! I'd been watching you for too long. I came up with Pink exactly because I didn't know how else to get your attention."
"Well, you did get it."
"Come on, I can't be the only one to find you hot. I'm sure there must have been other women to hit on you." Yes, please tell me so I can murder them, is what I actually mean.
He frowns as if remembering. "There were, but I was never interested. Ever since I became Theo, I've been working too hard to pay attention to any of that."
"Then, why me?"
"Your presence comforts me." He states. "Remember when we first met? At one of Martin's Sunday dinners." I nod, and he continues. "He somehow put me right next to you at the table. You didn't speak much, but I could feel your presence radiating in the entire room. It was... intoxicating." He takes another sip of his wine. "I couldn't stay away. I told myself multiple times that I didn't have time for any entanglements, especially with Martin's daughter. You weren't someone I could just have an affair with and call it quits."
"You did take a long time to ask me on a date."
"I was only delaying the inevitable."
"That you were." I raise my glass to him, and we clink.
At the same time, my foot slowly travels up his leg—screw taking this slow. I'm getting in the mood when I hear an accented voice behind me.
"Hastings. And with your lovely wife." Annoyed, I drop my foot and turn to give Enzo a dazzling smile. Please leave.
"Enzo." Adrian stands up and shakes Enzo's hand. He's accompanied by a tall, gorgeous woman, likely a model.
"We were just leaving," I say, giving Adrian a small sign that I don't want him to ruin our date. It is too late, however.
"What a coincidence. We are leaving too. Why don't you join us? We are going to see Quinn's fight." Enzo narrows his eyes at Adrian, and I can see this isn't a mere invitation. Interesting...
Does he even know, I wonder, that his partners are related to his enemy? I almost chortle at the thought but compose myself quickly.
Not being able to refuse his invitation, we all get into Enzo's car, after which he tells his driver to take us towards Canal Street.
Once we get there, we are led towards what appears to be a former fire station. After we are vetted, we enter a vast arena full of people yelling at the top of their lungs.
Enzo motions us towards a more secluded area that I'm guessing is reserved for people like him. While not wholly cut off from the other spectators, it still provides a little more privacy than the massive throng of people crowded around the fighting ring.
One glance at Adrian, and I know he's not happy with this turn of events. I take his hand in mine and offer it a big squeeze. He has to know I'm here with him.
Enzo's father joins as well, also accompanied by a model who seems to be a third of his age.
"Do we really have to stay?" I whisper to Adrian and notice the tautness of his muscles when he replies.
"Something is off." He shakes his head, confused. "I don't know what..."
The first round is announced, between Quinn and another man named Sean, something. They both enter the ring, and holy moly is Quinn packing some.
I'm busy staring at what is obviously an extremely ripped body when a hand covers my eyes.
"Don't look at other men like that, love. I might have to jump in the ring." Adrian whispers in my hair. I turn around and give him a long kiss.
"You'll always be my number one. Now, down, boy." I smirk at him and pinch him playfully.
The fight starts, and as expected, Quinn wins the first round. The crowd goes crazy. Quinn’s movements have both speed and strength, and it’s no wonder he’s barely sporting any injuries when his adversary is covered in blood.
The many scars on Quinn’s body, however, attest to the fact that he’d trained hard to get to the level he’s at.
The second round starts, and Quinn seems slightly distracted as he keeps looking back to his corner, where his trainer is. It’s not really affecting his game, as he evades every direct hit while landing some on his opponent. It’s clear he’s just toying with him at this point.
I have to wonder what the purpose of this game is.
Enzo hadn’t been too forthcoming, but I’m guessing it’s the arena's inauguration since Quinn himself is in the ring. Odd, though, that I haven’t spotted his father yet. Aren’t they usually together?
"Do you see his father anywhere?" I ask, scanning the area. Adrian shakes his head and tries to look too. Again, this is odd. Matthew should be in the private box too, watching his son. Maybe he knows this game is just a formality and doesn’t think it’s worth showing up?
But then doubt starts creeping in. What if there’s more to the Gallaghers than meets the eye?
"We should tell Enzo about Andrew," I suggest. I know we aren’t particularly close with Enzo, especially since the whole Martin debacle, but he should have all the details.
Adrian is about to reply when suddenly a couple shots ring out in our direction.
We both barely have time to react when blood sprays directly into my face. Adrian immediately puts his body in front of me as a shield and pushes me to the ground.
"Down." He commands.
The crowd is frantic, running around and flooding towards the exits. Just as the shots started, they stop. People are still moving around haphazardly, and I can’t see if anyone’s been hit.
"Adrian?" I ask and try to move him off me while assessing his body for injuries. He just grunts an I’m fine.
Right next to us, Enzo and Rocco are down, both bleeding out. I immediately go to Enzo's side while Adrian takes Rocco.
"I got a pulse," I say and then press my hands against his side, where the bullet must have nabbed him.
Adrian checks for the same with Rocco but shakes his head. Next to Rocco, his companion is also injured. Enzo's, on the other hand, appears to have fled already.
"Call 911," I tell Adrian, knowing that if Enzo doesn't get any medical attention, he will end up like his father.
"Tell...Allegra...love..." Enzo struggles to get some words out, but his eyes suddenly snap shut, and his breathing becomes more labored.
I keep on applying pressure to the wound until Adrian nudges me and takes my spot. He gives me a worried look before adding. "If anyone asks, I was investigating a tip, and you had no idea what was happening. Clear?" I just nod absentmindedly.
"Act upset... cry. Behave normally."
The paramedics come through, and they load Enzo and Rocco's companion on a stretcher to take them urgently to the hospital.
The police soon follow, but Adrian's rank and his lengthy explanations help explain our presence. After what seems like forever, we are released and given the green light to go home.
We get home, take our clothes off, immediately go to the shower to remove the blood.
"It was a trap," Adrian says. "The whole arrangement was a trap."
"You think the Gallaghers shot Enzo and Rocco?"
"It's damn smart too. Get rid of the Agosti, and you get rid of the entire competition in New York. If Jimenez wanted to expand..."
"Why not take over an already established empire." I finish his thought.
"If we were wondering whether the Gallagher's were in with Jimenez... well wonder no more." He says ironically.
I put on a nightgown and go to the kitchen to make us some tea. I spot Mally in the corner, already asleep in her cute little bed. I try to be as quiet as possible as to not wake her up.
I bring the cups over to our bedroom and close the door.
"Here."
"Thanks."
"Don't do that again." I suddenly say.
"What?"
"Put yourself in between me and a bullet."
He turns to look at me and shakes his head. He takes the cup from my hand and puts it on the night table together with his. Grabbing my face in his hands, he tells me, full of sincerity.
"That, I will never be able to promise."
His lips descend on mine, wildly seeking entrance. I'm shocked by his sudden assault, but I return his kiss in full. My hands go to his back, and I'm clawing at his shirt, trying to get as close to his skin as possible.
Adrian pulls back, his eyes glazed with desire. He lifts me and throws me in the middle of the bed. Stretching to his full height in front of me, he takes his shirt off and disposes of it in a corner somewhere.
His pants follow suit, and seeing he went commando, I lick my lips in approval.
He puts his hands on the bed and starts advancing towards me, prowling with purpose.
To make it harder for him, I back away until I reach the headboard, giving him a saucy grin as I do. He groans loudly and grabs both my ankles, yanking me towards him in one sudden movement.
I won’t give in easy. Not this time. I let myself go soft for a minute, allowing him to trail kisses down my neck, before using my nails to scratch his back and kick him off me. His arms shoot out to stop my flailing limbs, and we take a tumble that ends up with me on top of him. Still on the bed.
I want so badly to just melt against him, but I know this is more than sex. This is a mating dance that will reestablish our relationship.
Just as I grind my core on his obvious erection, he grabs my nightgown and rips it off my body. His big hands splay on my back, and he moves me up and down, hitting the right spot to make my eyes roll in the back of my head in pleasure.
Chasing that high, I barely register when he inverses our roles once again, with me squirming beneath him.
His mouth travels down to my breasts, where he takes one nipple between his lips. I moan as my legs wrap around his midriff. He palms my ass and brings me into full contact with his cock. I'm already so wet that he smoothly glides in between my lips, up and down.
"Inside. Now." I bark out, failing at my own game to draw this out. He chuckles in my ear at my urgency.
"You want my cock, little girl?" He asks as he thrusts forward, hitting my clit and eliciting a half-moan from me.
"Ask for it." He whispers as he trails wet kisses all around my collar bone.
"I want your cock inside me. Please." I don't even recognize my voice as I beg, but I don't care. It's been too long since I've felt him. All of him.
"Good girl." His mouth covers mine just as he enters my body in one swift thrust. He fills me up to the hilt, and one pump later, my orgasm overwhelms me, my muscles clenching around him.
"Harder." I cry out, and he starts pistoning in and out of me, his tight grip on my ass, bruising my flesh.
I'm holding tightly onto him, enjoying the feel of his cock hitting my cervix and mingling the pleasure with pain when I hear a sudden scratch at the door. My head snaps in that direction, but I try to ignore it, instead urging Adrian to go faster.
The scratching gets louder.
"Did you hear that?" I ask him and point towards the door. He stops and frowns.
"Hear what?"
Something hits the door.
"That," I say, and a mewing accompanies the scratching.
As we both realize who it is at the door, we burst out into laughter.
"Leave it," I say and clench my muscles around him. He starts moving again, but the meowing intensifies.
"We should see what Mally wants?" Adrian asks, and a red haze suddenly covers my eyes. I arch an eyebrow at him and roll with him, so I'm on top.
I lift myself a little before coming down once more, my hands going to his pecs for support. He grabs onto my breasts and kneads them, the movements sending shivers through my body.
Mally is still throwing a tantrum at the door, but I won't let her interfere.
Adrian's hands continue their ascent until they circle my neck. I hum low in my throat, the slight pressure making me come again.
As I ride my pleasure, he takes over, going faster and chasing his own fulfillment.
We both collapse on the bed, and I'm almost reluctant to open the door for Mally, but she seems extremely insistent.
I get up and let her in. She doesn't even look at me as she dashes to Adrian's side.
"Pussies sure love you," I mumble as I settle back on the bed.
"Jealous?" He teases, and I scowl at him.
"Me? Never." And just to be petty, I turn my back to him.
He doesn't waste any time in spooning me from behind and placing Mally in my arms. That's how we fall asleep.
The following days are a blur. We settle into a nice new routine, almost like newlyweds.
Well... newlyweds plus Mally. She just can't help herself. Whenever I'm enjoying some intimate time with my husband, Mally starts meowing, and she's even resorted to breaking a couple things around the house. It seems that my talk with her didn't take. We might need to rehash some things.
Adrian had inquired at the hospital, and it seems that Enzo survived but is now in the intensive care unit. I'd only called Vlad once, and he informed me that with the Agosti out of business, the Gallaghers are currently working to bring over all of the Italian allies to their side.
"A storm is brewing." He'd said.
I hadn't told him about Andrew being Jimenez... mostly because Adrian had asked me not to, and I wanted to honor his wishes.
It was hard because I'd never had any secrets with Vlad, but my allegiance will always be Adrian's first and foremost.
Over the past few days, I'd been running some errands and fixing things up at the foundation for the new Director to take over.
It was also then that I realized the same car I'd seen when I got Mally was always in my side mirror.
I was on the way back home when I suddenly decided I'd had enough.
I hit the brakes and wait a second for the other car to do the same. I then get out and go over, ready to demand an explanation for the stalking.
I knock on the driver's window and wait.
Nothing.
I knock again.
Slowly, the window rolls down to reveal a scarred face I'd last seen in Atlantic City. My hands immediately go to my gun, but it's too late as I feel a cloth covering my mouth. I struggle as best as I can before darkness takes over.
CHAPTER XLIII
"The real Andrew Gallagher died at age twelve in Belfast." Marcel voices out loud what I'd been suspecting of a while now. "I have some connections in the UK, and they sent a copy of his death certificate. He would have been fifty-eight now."
We're at his apartment in Chelsea. In all the years I've known Marcel, I can count on one hand the times I've been to his apartment.
It's a sleek, modern one-bedroom apartment that could belong to a showroom for its bareness. I've always marveled at the minimalist style that Marcel seems to adhere to. We are now in his living room, reviewing some old case files, and trying to make sense of the entire situation.
"So, he stole Andrew's identity," I say, dropping one of the files I'd been skimming through on the desk. "Interesting, though, that Quinn referred to him as his uncle," I add, stroking my jaw pensively.
"At this point, we can only infer that there is some sort of relation between Jimenez and the Gallaghers."
"They acted too fast against the Agosti. They must have realized we knew something."
The attack on Enzo and Rocco had been smartly timed. Both of them had been present in an open space with a lot of people around. With Enzo still in the ICU, it's only a matter of time until the Agosti business falls to Jimenez.
"If Enzo dies, the Agosti territory will be up for grabs."
"The Marchesi are also swiping in to try to salvage what they can. I've had reports that Enzo's wife is alr
eady giving orders as Capo. Plus, her family landed in the States the day after the attack."
"It's not going to be pretty. I wouldn't want to be Enzo... if he survives." I grimace at the thought. For all my dislike of Enzo, I can only imagine his reaction at waking up to find his father dead, his partners betraying him, and his wife reaping the benefits of his own demise... Too many betrayals at once.
"You said that Bianca met Jimenez's son." Marcel shuffles some papers, looking for something specific.
"Yeah. Odd considering none of our intel has ever alluded to the existence of a son. From what Bianca told me, he's in his early thirties and has a defining scar on his right cheek. I've already done a partial search in the police database, but so far, I got nothing."
"Look at this." Marcel shows me a profile photo of a man with a scarred cheek.
"What's this?"
"When you described the guy to me, I had my doubts but decided to look into it. He's not in the database because he's never been convicted, but we had a case come in almost three years ago, and this guy was the main suspect. A few women come forward with rape allegations against him. Some of the testimonies had holes in them, so he got away."
"What piqued your curiosity about him?" I ask, knowing that there must be a reason why Marcel is showing me this.
"I remembered him from my days as a prosecutor. I was the one handling his case, so I met the guy. Nasty piece of work, no remorse. That he got away on mere technicalities guts me... His name is Carlos Delgado, thirty. Mother was Elena Delgado, father unknown."
"So? That's a long shot to assume that the unknown father is Jimenez." I arch an eyebrow, thinking he's really grasping for straws with this.
"Here." He spreads a few more pictures on the desk, and I see what he means. All of them show Carlos meeting with Quinn in a dark alley, their hands exchanging something.
"When was this taken?"
"Day before the shooting." I frown. Why would Marcel have pictures of Quinn from before the shooting?
"Before?" I ask, trying to mask the doubt in my voice.
Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1) Page 30
