by Shanna Bell
“Let’s not forget why he got married in the first place,” Vince said. “We have what we needed. It’s time to flush out that snake.”
Judging by Jackson’s frown, he didn’t agree. Then again, Gio knew he had taken a liking to Jazzy. Also, of the four of them, Jax was the least damaged. He had only been a baby when their parents were murdered, and they were put in a home. His little brother didn’t have any memories, let alone nightmares, from those three months in the group home. Unlike the rest of them, he had left that place unscathed. Being so young also had its disadvantages, though. Jackson had no recollection of his parents. He didn’t remember his mother’s warm smile, nor her soft voice singing lullabies to him. Gio didn’t know what was worse: remembering or not.
“Jazzy will be fine.” He had given Thea instructions. “What about Luca? Any news on his case?"
“Nothing to get him out,” Jax said with a deep sigh. He’d taken it the hardest when their brother had gone to jail a year ago. As a lawyer, he’d lost faith in the legal system for a while.
It was almost comical how they had fought their way from the slums of Tenderloin to the top, making casualties when they had to, and Luca—casino owner and entrepreneur—ended up behind bars for tax fraud. Something he didn’t even commit.
“But we have some leads,” Jax continued. “Whoever framed Luca must have been someone close to him. I put the same firm on his case as the ones that found out who killed Mom and Dad.”
“Vince is right,” Gio agreed. “It’s time for Phase Two. Where are we on Bianchi’s collectors?”
“As of today, every last one of them has transferred his debts to us. Since Rossi Enterprises will no longer be funding Bianchi, which was a stupid deal to begin with, he will have to go look for other ways to pay for his debts. Rumor has it that he went ballistic yesterday when he learned that he’s lost another government contract.”
Bianchi had been losing a lot of contracts over the past year. They had been chipping away at Bianchi’s lifestyle bit by bit, making him a nobody in the eyes of his peers. Making him no longer untouchable when they would exact their revenge. Killing the man in cold blood would be a far too clean and easy death. They wanted to take away everything he had. Throwing him out on the street cold, alone, and miserable.
Every man had a weak spot. And for Bianchi, it was his reputation as a reputable businessman. The bastard had started off as a made man, like Gio’s father, but over the past decade, he had made the transition to becoming legit. He liked shaking hands with the mayor, and playing golf with San Francisco’s creme de la creme. A world in which you were someone’s best friend one day and could become a pariah the next.
As of today, Oscar “The Knife” Bianchi would become a desperate rabbit, ready to start running for his life in the woods. And Gio was just getting ready to send out the hounds.
They continued to work up until lunch, when they were suddenly disturbed by raised voices. No sooner than that, the door opened, and Hector entered. As usual, there was a scowl on his face.
“You need to get downstairs. We have a situation.”
There was no time for questions as Gio followed behind him. Since his friend looked merely annoyed, it couldn’t be that bad.
Gio was confronted with the situation the second he walked down the stairs.
“Vanessa. What are you doing here?” It was a justified question, as he’d ended things with her weeks ago.
The second she heard his voice, she spun around, staring daggers at him. He couldn’t care less though. His attention was focused on his wife. Jazzy had folded her arms in front of her chest and gave him a smile. Somehow, he doubted it was meant to be a pleasant one.
“Our condo had a For Sale sign, so I came here to surprise you. Instead, I was the one getting the surprise, learning that you got married!” Vanessa shrieked.
Had her voice always been this aggravating? “My condo,” he corrected her.
She ignored that and continued her rant. “I leave a few weeks for a photo shoot, and you get married behind my back?”
Jazzy grabbed her jacket from the hook. “I’ll let you two ex-lovers hash this out.”
Ironically, the one woman who did have the right to ask him for an explanation, didn’t. Jazzy was already at the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Vanessa snarled, raising her hand and stepping toward Jazzy’s back.
“Touch her and I will end you.” Gio tried to rein in his rage at his ex-lover’s unjustified display of jealousy.
“I… you don’t mean that,” Vanessa started to stutter.
Jazzy spun around, coming face-to-face with Vanessa’s claw. She looked surprised, then scowled and took a defensive stand. Judging by her annoyed look, she was waiting for what he would do. Part of him admired her for leaving this for him to handle instead of giving him shit. Another part was oddly disappointed, which made no sense.
“I ended things between us weeks ago. I put my condo up for sale. Take a fucking hint. You ever show up here again, disrupting my household, disrespecting my wife, and I will end your career. All it takes is a phone call. Don’t test me.”
Vanessa gasped, staring at him for a moment with her mouth hanging open, before she grabbed her suitcase and left, slamming the door behind her.
His wife glared at him, then swiped something—which looked like the credit card he gave her—from the counter and left as well. Her silence was louder than any door shut violently.
Gio didn’t go after her. Obviously Jazzy needed some time to cool off. He didn’t have to ask Hector to follow her. Because no matter what, he would never let her go unprotected. She was a Detta now.
CHAPTER 14
JAZZY
Jazzy drove into a parking lot near Pier 39 for her meeting with Tommie. As she walked up to the Eagle Cafe, she thought about the phrase that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Even though technically she wasn’t the one scorned this afternoon, she still felt like unleashing hell on someone. The reasons were simple. First and foremost, the confrontation with Vanessa and Gio, which had been like a scene straight from a bad drama. She didn’t care that apparently her husband had finished things with the blonde weeks ago. No, she didn’t care one bit. What she did care about was the way the blonde—obviously a model, judging by her perfect figure and reference to a photo shoot—looked. She was gorgeous. Perfect body, perfect hair. How did Gio go from that perfection to Jazzy? Not that she was some insecure twit, but still. She was curvy; short even, compared to leggy Vanessa, and a brunette. Their wedding night had been packed with passion, their chemistry off the charts. But would that be enough to keep him while he had women like this Vanessa chasing after him. And why did she even care? That chafed her the most: that she gave a damn. In the end, their marriage was one of convenience. She was nothing more than a business deal to him and she would do good to remind herself of that. The second aggravating thing this morning was that she still hadn’t been able to reach her sister.
A million things went through her head as she walked into her favorite cafe on the wharf.
“There’s my girl,” Tommie greeted her. He had secured them a place in the back, overlooking the ocean.
“Hi, little smurf.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek as she dropped on the chair across him.
“Admit it. You love my new hairdo.”
Jazzy rolled her eyes. “Fine. It suits you.”
Which it really did. The ice blue hair suited him, just as his eyebrow piercings did. Never judge a book by a cover should be Tommie’s motto, because under that blue Mohawk, ratty jeans, and all over bad boy look, there lay a commercial shark. Of the two of them, she was doing most of the coding for their program, and he was taking on the creative side such as marketing, but also the finances.
Sadly, neither of them had the money to bring their software to life. Not yet. She couldn’t ask her grandfather to finance their business, because he would find the thought of a female Rossi working utterly ridicul
ous. And Tommie barely made enough rent working in a computer shop. If it hadn’t been for his scholarship, he would have never gotten into college, but instead, had become a super villain, ruling the world.
“So, you know how I’ve been looking for a place for us that isn’t too expensive or in a too shady neighborhood?”
“Uh-huh.” She waved at the waitress in the back, mouthing that she wanted coffee. “How’s the search going?”
He made a face. “Not too great.”
“That’s what our business plan is for, right? To convince the bank to give us a start-up loan.”
“Hmm.” He clicked on his laptop and showed her some charts.
All the while, as she was discussing their business plan, her mind kept drifting back to Gio. And Vanessa. It ate her up from the inside not knowing whether she could expect something like that happening again. Or, even worse, him going behind her back to pick things up with Vanessa, or another woman. It was obviously time to set some ground rules between them. As she pondered the happenings of that afternoon, she realized she had made a mistake. Her mindset that this marriage was only temporary wasn’t helping her at all. In fact, it may even give Gio the idea that it was okay to sleep around on her.
“I have to go.”
Tommie stopped mid-sentence. “What?”
Jazzy put some bills on the table and grabbed her bag. “Sorry, I forgot that I have to do something. Can we finish this next week? At my place?”
Without waiting for a response, she gave his puzzled face a kiss and left.
***
“Welcome home, Mrs. D—” Thea cleared her throat. “I mean, Jocelyn.”
“Hi, Thea.” Jazzy hung her coat on the rack and glanced around. Apart from a cleaning maid in the corridor, the house seemed empty. “Is my husband around?”
“No, he left not long after you.”
Guess their talk had to wait. “Okay, I’ll be working in the living room.” She situated herself on the leather couch near the fireplace.
Half an hour later, her butt started to hurt from the unyielding leather and she got up. She did some stretching and relocated to the plush carpet in front of the fireplace. Still, she put a cushion under her butt before she started typing away.
She tried to reach her sister again, but Carmen didn’t pick up the phone. Maybe she really was in San Diego, or maybe she had had a fight with Franco. It was really awful to hope for someone’s marriage to fall apart, but it was exactly what Jazzy did. It was killing her to be this helpless, all the while knowing her sister was in pain. Unfortunately, all she could do was text Carmen that she was there for her if she needed help.
She was another two hours into coding, and ready to take a break, when a shadow fell over her.
“Why are you sitting on the floor?”
She looked up to see Gio towering over her. He looked amazing in his dark suit and black tie.
“Because your couch is like a rock,” she answered, as she crawled on her feet. “We need to talk.”
“Words no man ever likes to hear from a woman,” he said, loosening his tie.
“That’s unfortunate for you, but I’ve done some thinking, and I believe we may have started off on the wrong foot.”
“And what foot might that be?”
“The way our marriage came to be, and the expectations you might have. I don’t care if this was an arranged marriage and that it has an expiration date.” She ignored his furrowed brow as she mentioned the last part. “I won’t stand for my husband cheating on me.”
He dropped his tie and rounded on her until her back almost hit the wall. “Are you accusing me of being unfaithful?”
“No, I’m not,” she hastened to reassure him. But she did want to make sure that he would know where she stood on the matter. “But I do want to make something clear. I am not my sister. For example, if my husband would cheat on me, I wouldn’t turn a blind eye to it. I would make him regret it.” Please take the hint.
His hand ended up in the nape of her neck, playing with a few strands of hair. “Would you now. And what is it that you would do?”
She gave him a sweet smile. “I would return the favor.”
The amusement fled his eyes, being replaced with a chill. For a second, his grasp on her skull tightened, but then he relaxed. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Are you sure about that?” she challenged him, not backing down. She wasn’t going to put up with a string of Gio’s mistresses. If he couldn’t keep it in his pants for two years, that would be on him. She would leave his sorry ass, consequences be damned.
“Yes, I am.” The hand around her waist pulled her closer to him. “See, if you should return the favor, as you put it, you would only have the death of another man on your hands. Because I will fucking take apart any man who touches you. With my own bare hands.”
“Really? Yet, you let that douchebag who touched me live.” Huh, guess she still was upset about that.
“You weren’t a Detta then. You are now. Touching you means touching me.”
“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” His hand drifting up to her breast was really distracting. And this was not the time to be distracted. She was trying to take a stand, damn it.
“Sure. You don’t want me fucking other women.” He lifted her off her feet and walked over to the couch, putting her on his lap. “Speaking of fucking others. Who is he?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Who is whom?”
“That fucker you’ve been with all morning at the wharf.”
“You had me followed?”
“Of course I had you followed. You’re my wife. It’s my job to protect you. And don’t deflect my question. Who is he? Did you go see him to return the favor, as you just threatened me with?”
It took her a sec to follow his train of thought. Then she felt like slapping him. How dare he accuse her? “No, you ass. I did not go see Tommie to sleep with him. Tommie is my former college mate and business partner and—”
“Business partner?”
He didn’t seem to like the sound of that. Well, tough.
“Yes, business partner. Associate, or whatever fancy word you would like to use. Not that it matters. See, this isn’t about Tommie, who is gay, by the way.” She wasn’t sure why she mentioned that last part. It might be because of the arctic look on Gio’s face, and the fact that he had threatened to murder any man who touched her. There was no way she was going to put Tommie in harm’s way.
“Don’t give a fuck. He still has a dick.”
“Really?” When his scowl didn’t disappear, she shook her head.
“I don’t want my wife to work. There’s no need for you to.”
How did they go from arguing about his ex-mistress to her working? “Yeah well, I don’t want to wake up alone, like some cheap trick for the night, but what can you do?” she countered. She hadn’t meant to lash out like that—it was totally off topic—but she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. First, the Centurion card, and now this. It was becoming more and more apparent that he really did see her place in his life as a trophy wife, and nothing more.
When she saw the contemplative look on his face, she sighed. “Look, just forget it, okay? Obviously, we have a different view on what a marriage looks like. But just so we’re clear: I am not my sister.” It hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t promised to actually be faithful. “You choose to have someone like Vanessa in your house? That’s fine with me. Just don’t expect me to stay and watch.” She looked around for her bag. “In fact, I think I’m going to leave.” It must be a record; married for hardly a day, and already leaving her husband.
Then he started laughing.
It was maddening, really! She managed to get in a few thumps to his chest before he grabbed her hands, making it impossible for her to hit him again. All she could do was give him a glare.
Then his face turned serious. “I haven’t touched another woman since we’ve been married.”
“I should
hope not. We’ve been married for all of a day.”
He clasped his hands on her face, pulling her close to him. “You’re the only woman I’ve brought to this house. Just my wife, no one else. But if you want to hear the words, I’ll say them. I’m not going to fuck around on you. Now that that’s been established, it’s time for your punishment.”
“Punishment?”
He nodded. “You slapped me. I cannot let that go unanswered. There is no place for violence in a marriage.”
Her jaw dropped, until she caught the gleam in his eyes. So, he liked to play, did he? She cast her eyes down, looking properly chastised. “You are right, my lord. I should be punished.” When she looked up, there was a smoldering fire in his eyes.
“Take your shirt and bra off.”
Her fingers trembled as she did what he requested.
“Clasp your hands behind your back and don’t let go. I want you to take whatever I give you.” He moved her legs until she was straddling him, his muscled leg between hers.
He grabbed the globes of her ass and pulled her closer. Right up until he could latch onto her nipple.
She let out a squeak when he bit her left nipple.
As he treated her right nipple to the same painful experience—biting, licking, nibbling, until the bud was throbbing from a mixture of pain, heat, cold, and pleasure—she couldn’t stop herself from riding his legs. She needed friction, damn it.
She expected him to ask her to strip, but he didn’t. His hand simply slid inside her panties, going straight for her core. When she let out a gasp, he swatted both her breasts this time, pulling her tortured nipple inside his mouth until it hurt.
“Please...” She knew she was begging, but she didn’t care.
His answer was to pump two fingers inside her wet core. Her back arched and she almost pulled back her arms, to put them on his broad shoulders so she could ride him, but somehow managed to hold back.
