by Shanna Bell
***
Gio left the clinic—leaving Raoul behind to take Jazzy home whenever she was ready—and took a cab to Vince’s club. He entered the building from the back entrance.
Hector was already there waiting for him, his usual scowl accompanied by fury blazing in his eyes. His friend had a protective streak when it came to women and children. Jazzy almost getting hurt on his watch, would only make the former Marine want a piece of Caruso even more.
“This way,” he practically growled, leading the way downstairs.
Unlike Vince, Gio wasn’t into the whole BDSM scene, so he hadn’t visited the place before. Despite the fucked-up evening he had so far, he couldn’t stop a smile when he found out where Hector had stashed Caruso.
“The dungeon?”
The big man shrugged. “Seemed fitting.”
Caruso’s body was tied to a St. Andrew’s cross. He wasn’t moving.
“He still alive?”
“I stitched his wound up. Didn’t want the cabrón to die on you before you had a chance to… talk to him.”
The door to the dungeon opened and Vince walked in.
“Figure you’d want to be here,” Gio said to welcome him.
His brother had been wanting a piece of Caruso, ever since a sub that had once frequented his club had gone missing and all fingers had pointed at Caruso. Of course, the asshole knew how to cover up his tracks, so he got away with it. That is, until now.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” There was a coldness in his brother’s eyes, directed at the figure chained against the wall. “He still alive?”
Gio nodded. “For now.”
Hector left the room and came back with a bucket of water that he splashed into Caruso’s face. Caruso came to himself, sputtering and cursing.
It took all Gio had to not shove a knife through his throat. That would be merciful, though. And merciful was one thing he was not when it came to someone threatening his family.
“This is the end of the line for you, Caruso. No one hurts my wife and gets to live. If there’s a God you believe in, that you want to make peace with, now would be the time.” He walked up to the cabinet on the right and picked up a nice-looking cane.
“Fuck you, Detta.” Caruso eyed the wooden cane, while trying to hide his fear. “You have any idea who you’re dealing with? You’re a dead man. A dead man!”
Gio had found there were two types of men. The ones that begged for their lives, promising him anything he wanted. And the ones threatening him with everything under the sun. Caruso belonged to the last group, only he had nothing to back up his threat with.
“You are done, Caruso. Your family is done. Your legacy, whatever that might have once been, is done too. No one is going to miss you.”
He saw it happen right before his eyes. That moment when a man knows he’s not going to make it to another sunrise. That moment he loses all hope, and lashes out.
“What’s he doing here?” Franco chin-jerked at Vince. “Came to see me dead so you can console my wife? What? You think I didn’t see how you looked at her at the wedding? All men do. She’s a siren. Looking innocent and fuckable from the outside, but once you start fucking her, she’s as cold as a fish.” He let out a harsh laugh. “I tried everything with her. Even took her to a club once, but her pussy remained cold.”
That’s when Vince lashed out with his whip, marking Caruso in the face. “You sick fuck. Bad-mouthing your own wife. The woman who has just miscarried your child, thanks to the beating you gave her.”
Caruso’s eyes went unsure for a split second, but then that heinous smirk appeared again. “Who’s to say it was mine?”
Gio planted his fist in Caruso’s stomach, making the man grunt in pain. His mood improved immediately.
Vince pushed his whip underneath Caruso’s chin. “Remember Kimberley?”
A hint of recognition flashed in Caruso’s eyes before he looked away. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You butchered her, asshole. I know it was you. Let’s see how well you take to all the toys you put your subs through.”
Before the fucker could get another word out, Gio smashed the cane to his right knee, splintering the bone.
Then the screaming started. Over and over again.
CHAPTER 21
JAZZY
A week after the shooting, things were back to normal. That is, as much as Jazzy could call her sister checking herself out of the clinic and leaving the country normal.
Carmen was on the run. From herself, from the pain of losing her baby, and God only knew what other demons haunted her. Jazzy had visited her in the clinic every day, but Carmen refused to say a word. She just turned her back and kept staring at the wall, a void in her gaze that scared Jazzy. This morning, she had received a message from Carmen that she needed some time. So that was all Jazzy could do; give her time and space.
Tommie, luckily, was easier to deal with. Gio had stated that he would stay with them until he had recuperated from his gunshot wound. Boxed in by Gio and Hector, Tommie’s protest had died on his lips. She was glad that, for a change, his pride had taken a back seat to his common sense.
He lay sprawled on her couch, ending a phone call. He grunted when he reached for his mug on the coffee table. “The most interesting thing just happened. I just got rehired.”
“That’s great. You shouldn’t have been fired in the first place. I’m sure there’s some law against firing an employee who can show proof of being admitted to a clinic.” When she saw his pensive look, she said, “It is great, isn’t it?”
“Sure. It’s also interesting and weird that I got rehired within a day; with a raise, no less.”
“Not weird. I’m sure the place fell apart after you left.”
He snorted. “You know, having Giovanni Detta call my asshole boss is like bringing a bazooka to a knife fight.”
“Are you saying it’s overkill?”
“Of the epic kind.”
“I disagree. And I didn’t ask Gio to call your boss. But I might have ranted a bit to him about you getting fired,” she admitted.
“Well, he obviously decided to do something about it. Probably just to shut you up.”
She pinched his leg, making him wince. “You deserved that.”
“I think we should do it.”
“Do what?”
“Accept the San Francisco’s real estate king’s offer for office space.”
She let out a groan. “He got to you, didn’t he?”
A blush spread over Tommie’s cheeks. “He did,” he grumbled. “Your husband has this…”
“Overpowering personality?” she provided, when he seemed lost for words.
“Yeah, that was the phrase I was looking for. Also”—he was silent for a beat—“he also took care of my Grams.”
“Is she okay?” She knew his grandmother had Alzheimer’s and lived in a nursing home. It was the reason why Tommie had worked two jobs during college, even though that didn’t stop him finishing top of his class.
He shrugged, as if the topic of his grandmother was no big deal, while she knew it was what kept him going. “I got a call from the nursing home. Something about government cutbacks and her health insurance no longer covering everything. They were going to put her on the street, Jaz, and, shit, the place I could barely afford wasn’t a great place to begin with. Your husband offered to transfer her to a top-notch facility if I agreed to the office space, which he hopes will sway you too, and I couldn’t say no.”
“Nor should you have. I would have done the same thing.”
“You would?” He sounded hesitant. “I kind of feel like a jerk for accepting.”
“Of course I would have.” She put her laptop on the coffee table and cuddled up next to him. “I wished you would have told me sooner, so I could have offered to help. You’re just too damn proud.”
“Speaking of too proud… I really think we should accept the office space. It would look good with future customers.
I really need this to work, Jaz.”
So did she, though perhaps, for slightly other reasons. She was determined to live in a world where children—the tiny voices that were ignored or lost all too often—were safe. With the software they were developing, she hoped to contribute a little to that cause.
***
She decided to surprise her husband that afternoon by paying him a visit in his tower. Also, this might be the perfect time to live out her office fantasy, featuring a certain real estate mogul. She had changed into a different outfit before coming over.
Walking into the Detta Tower, she watched herself in the window. She had decided on a black pencil skirt with a red silk top and killer heels. It was a good prep for their late afternoon meeting at the bank.
She gave her name at the reception and took a seat in the waiting area. Pulling the “I’m his wife card” seemed silly, and also would ruin her surprise, so she sat. Waiting.
And waiting.
Half an hour in, and she was still waiting. That was when Hector stepped inside and took a seat next to her.
“Why?”
She loved the way he just used one word and expected her to understand all and every meaning behind it.
“I want to surprise him.”
“Figures. Never seen you in something else but jeans before.” His lips almost pulled into a smile. Almost, but not quite.
Apparently, she was more transparent than she’d thought. “Shut up,” she mumbled.
Hector didn’t have her patience. He walked up to the front desk. After a few words and a chin jerk at her, the receptionist turned crimson. She alerted the guard near the elevators that Jazzy could pass through.
Finally.
She got up and, after a silent ‘thank you’ to the big man, stepped into the elevator.
There was only one girl with hot pink lips, who got in after her. She seemed a tad nervous, checking her hair and makeup in the elevator mirror several times.
“Hot lunch date?” Jazzy joked.
“Hope so. Going to see the boss,” the girl entrusted to her. “He’s hot. Like GQ hot but very manly, you know.”
Jazzy nodded. She knew all too well.
“Even his name is hot,” the girl said with a gush. “Giovanni Detta.”
It felt like someone just sucker-punched her. “I think I read somewhere that he’s married,” Jazzy casually said.
The girl re-applied her lipstick. “Oh, apparently he is, but I mean, we’ve never even seen his wife. She’s probably some prissy, boring, high-society cold fish. She must be, or else she would have visited him; staked her claim, right? What woman wouldn’t.”
Instead of smacking the lipstick from Hot Pink’s face, Jazzy smiled. “You’re right. A real woman would piss all over him to show her ownership.” When she got a blank look in return, she explained, “The way animals do.”
“Oh, right.” Hot Pink unbuttoned her top button, showing some cleavage. “Wish me luck.”
Wishing her luck wasn’t what Jazzy had in mind. More like, the plague.
When the elevator came to a halt at their floor, the girl lifted her shoulders, pushed her chest up, and started walking.
Jazzy trailed after Hot Pink, who was making a show of strutting in her high heels. The girl stopped at the coffee machine, clearly contemplating her next move.
That was when Jazzy spotted an unwelcome face she’d last seen at her wedding. What was the woman’s name again? Lisa. It suddenly occurred to her that there were apparently two sharks circling her husband.
That was when Jazzy strode past them.
Gio stood before the front desk, giving instructions to a woman in a suit, who was taking notes.
If he was surprised to see her walk into his place of business for the first time, it didn’t show on his face. When she kissed him—tongue and all—in the middle of the corridor, she clearly did surprise him, however. God help him if he pushed her away.
She gave a sigh of relief when he pulled her closer. Of course, Gio wouldn’t be Gio if he didn’t try to one-up her by half-dragging her into his office.
“Reschedule my afternoon meetings, Gale. I’ll be busy with my wife.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Hot Pink’s baffled look turn into one of horror as she realized who Jazzy was. And no, Jazzy couldn’t contain the evil smile on her face. She even gave the girl a wave.
The second Gio shut the door behind them, he pulled her into his arms and planted her on his desk.
“I like your skirt.”
“Tommie told me what you did for his grandmother.”
“I didn’t do it for your friend. I did it for me. I don’t like my wife going to work in some shady neighborhood.”
“You managed just fine,” she protested, remembering how he had started his business. Unlike what she had assumed, Giovanni Detta didn’t come from money. He’d had to work to get where he was today.
“I had start-up money. All of my brothers, including Hector, invested everything we had in the company. We also had a break because Luca made good money at a poker tournament. We started up in some shitty office in Tenderloin, but I had my brothers to protect my back.”
“You knew Tommie was going to talk to me about this office, didn’t you?”
He didn’t deny it. “I wanted something from him and gave him something in return.”
“Still... you could have tried a different approach.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Such as?”
He was really going to have her say it. Very well then. “Like strong-holding him to do what you want.”
“I like to negotiate first, instead of pushing to get my way.”
She huffed and waved her ring finger at him. “This big diamond says otherwise.”
“Unlike what you seem to think, bella, I don’t eat kittens for breakfast, nor do I kill anyone who disagrees with me. I only do that when I want something really bad, or when I get pushed.”
Yeah, she had slightly mixed feelings about that, but she wasn’t going to get into that. Him letting her claim him in front of Hot Pink and Lisa gained him some leeway for at least a few days. “Um, I actually came to speak to you about something.”
He removed her top, hands on her breasts. “So speak.”
“I can’t concentrate when you do that.”
“I’m going to fuck you on my desk.”
“Yes, please.” Wait. What was it she came here for again? Oh, right. “First, I need some pointers from my husband, the mogul. Things I can use this afternoon during the talk with the bank.”
“I suppose me offering you that loan would be a no?”
“A definite no.”
“Kind of figured. Just be yourself, bella. Be your own, passionate self, and it will be fine. As long as you have that fire in your eyes, you will be good. No man can resist that. You got this.”
“I’m not as sure as you are, but I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Jazzy said. “Watch the skirt!”
He cocked an eyebrow and she understood why. There she was, draped over his desk, breasts popping out of her bra, her lipstick probably smeared all over her face, and she was giving him grief over a piece of clothing.
“Wear another one.” With that, his hand slid into the split of her skirt and ripped it open.
He flipped her over, so her back was turned to him. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, when he leaned over her.
“Have your prepped yourself this morning?”
No matter how many times he asked about the butt plug, her face flamed up.
“Yes.”
“Let me see for myself.” His hand went to her string and pulled it down. He caressed her ass, and played with her clit, while turning the plug a few times. Then he grabbed her by her hips and slammed inside her.
The power with which he took her nearly made her face-plant on his desk. As he continued to fuck her, her legs gave out, and her cheek hit the cold surface. She fell on her elbows and pushed back on his cock.
Maybe working at the Detta Tower had its perks after all.
CHAPTER 22
GIO
After their office fuck, Gio’s afternoon had been filled with regular meetings, and ending with a new report on Bianchi. He had sold more of his assets to cover his debts. Gone were his expensive cars, gone was his prized yacht at the marina. When his wife had learned that he’d started pawning off her jewelry, she left him. Bianchi was all alone now in his big house. According to their informant, he had locked himself up in his room, drinking, mumbling to himself, and shattering anything he could get his hands on.
It gave Gio great joy that Bianchi was going slightly mad as his world came down crumbling around him. What gave him even more joy though, was coming home to Jazzy.
He found his wife sitting on the new couch with her legs crossed, notebook on her lap, and a pencil in her hair. There were stacks of books littered on the floor and on the coffee table.
She jumped up the second she saw him. Her eyes all excited and sporting a huge grin.
“We did it, Gio! We got the loan!”
“Congratulations, bella. I knew you would.”
She clasped her hands, seeming excited as a child. Then she suddenly came to a halt.
“Wait a minute… Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Of course not.” Though, it had been a close call. He’d been tempted to do exactly that. All he’d had to do was make a discreet phone call and drop that Jocelyn Detta—brand new software entrepreneur—happened to be his wife. Which would have been easy, since he knew the bank’s director on a first name basis. In the end, he decided not to meddle. It seemed important to her that she could make it on her own. Also, if she ever found out, she’d have his balls, and not in a good way.
“You sure?” she asked, hands perched on her hips.
“Absolutely.” He pulled her close. “I did not tell the bank that they had to give you a loan. We should celebrate.”
Her eyes sparkled again. “Yes, we should. I already had drinks with Tommie this afternoon. Now I’m taking you out for dinner. Don’t look like that. It’s my celebration, so it’s my treat.”
