Fucking Luca. Now, of all the times he needs to throw his weight around talking to me like I’m some sort of lackey. Don’t get me wrong, I love the man like a brother. Hell, he is the only brother I’ve ever had, fostered or not. But seriously, I could have punched him square in the jaw for interrupting. Let alone insinuating I’d pass Sienna over to him for his enjoyment. Think again, motherfucker.
He needs to remember he fucking needs me. He’s established his title in the mafia by using his masked ruthless enforcer to elicit fear in anyone that crosses him. I am the monster he unleashes in the shadows, the reason his mob stays at the top of the chain.
No one outside the immediate circle knows the next undisputed heavyweight champion is also their masked enforcer.
My office door slams shut behind me. Maybe stopping when we did is a good thing, I tell myself. I can’t fucking have her, but after having just a taste, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. My addictive personality gets the better of me, and I usually need to inflict pain and let my deep-rooted anger out. But with her, she is a whole new addiction unto herself, one I need to stop before it cuts too deep.
I drag my hands over my face before I enter the room. I can’t let him see how affected I am by her. The last thing I need is Luca nosing. Striding through into the club VIP lounge, I spot him in the far corner, sprawled out like he owns the place. He’s dragging on a cigarette and sipping his whiskey, his gaze pinned on the blonde, busty waitress. After spotting me, he gives me a smirk and summons me over with a flick of the wrist. What the fuck is up with him tonight?
“Yes, Brother?” I ask, keeping the tone neutral, my fists clenched by my sides.
He flicks the ash from his cigarette slowly and brings it back up to his lips, not bringing his gaze to me; he’s pissed.
“I have a job for you. If you’d have answered that fucking phone of yours, I wouldn’t have had to drag myself out of Melissa’s to come here–very selfish of you, Brother.”
“I am fucking busy,” I spit. “Look around, Brother. It’s the opening night of my club. The same club I’m letting you funnel your fucking money through, remember that? I’m fucking busy. You’ll have to get someone else.” I don’t have time for this shit tonight.
He flicks his head back at me, throwing his cigarette in the ashtray. Smoke covers his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.
“I don’t fucking trust anyone else in the organization, you know that. They need to understand I am their fucking boss, but they go against me at every turn. I can’t fucking deal with their shit anymore, and I’m sick of walking on eggshells. I need to make a statement; they listen to me or they fucking die.”
I don’t like where this is going already. Whining Luca is the worst kind, and it seems to happen more and more often lately.
“Dante was caught meeting with the Falcones earlier today. I hear it’s not the first time either. He thinks he can walk all over me. He needs to be taught a fucking lesson. I need you to send the message. These fuckers need to be put back into line pronto, and you need to do it. You need to bring the fear of God into them to prove we run this mob, not them. My father is gone and they need to fucking accept that. It’s been six fucking years already.”
And there it is. He wants the monster to come out and play. Fucking gladly. I need a distraction and I can’t think of a better way to end the evening than cutting some ass holes tongue out. Scrap that. I’d much rather be sinking my dick into Sienna’s sweet pussy, but I’ll take what I can get.
“Fine, text me the address, and I’ll leave now.” I watch him slip his phone out of his pocket and tap at the screen.
“Thank you, Brother. I owe you.” There’s sincerity in his tone.
“Of course. You know I owe you my life. But remember our deal. I want out once this dies down. I win my fight, and I go on my own. So you better use me while you can,” I say with a grin.
I do. I owe this fucker my life. If it wasn’t for him taking over the mob six years ago, dragging me off the streets, and funding my boxing career, I would either be in jail serving life, or dead. So being his enforcer is hardly worthy of the debt I owe him, but we make it work. I have a lot of rage I need to rid and he needs someone out on the streets; somewhere I’m at one with. Behind the charade of being the boss, Luca is a mirror of me, an angry foster kid fighting to make something of his life. He never planned- hell, he never fucking wanted to run a mob, but unknown family ties meant he had to. No wonder the rest of the mob are pissed after years of working and killing for his father. But Luca is a fighter, and he is fulfilling his duty, even if it means I have to go out and do the majority of his fucking dirty work.
It was the same when we were kids on the street. Luca would pick a fight, but he was never a good hands-on fighter. He has always been the brains. I was always there in the background to beat the shit out of anyone who upset my brother. And still, fourteen years later, we are the same. Just now, the stakes are much higher, and it’s a lot darker than a street fight.
“Of course, Brother, you know I will stand up my end of the deal.” And I believe him, I have to. He is the only family I have, mob or not.
As I turn to leave, he finally asks. “Who was that hot piece of ass on your lap earlier? Is she still here? I’d love a fucking go on that.” I clench my fists in response and take in a heavy breath. I couldn’t let him know she’s not one of my usuals, but over my dead body is he going to ever touch a hair on her head.
“No, she’s gone. We won’t be seeing her again.” I try to keep my voice calm. His eyebrow raises as he looks at me, searching my face for more.
“That’s a shame.”
I take that as my cue to leave, heading back to my office to grab my shit together. Good thing I keep supplies and my signature black balaclava locked in the desk. Tracing my hand across the smooth oak, I shake my head. Damn, it’s a shame I never got to bend Sienna over this tonight.
Grabbing my gear, I text my driver to meet me at the back entrance of the club. I don’t have time to say my goodbyes; that’s one thing I can thank Luca for tonight. He responds that his ETA is three minutes. Guess I’ll get myself some fresh air while I wait. Nothing beats the cool air of New York in November. It’s fresh, almost cleansing on the lungs, I think as I spark up a cigarette. I am not a smoker of habit. I’m a professional boxer at the peak of my fitness. But some habits die hard. I’m sure Grayson will give me a kicking for this tomorrow. After the events of tonight, I need this to clear my head and unleash my inner demons.
Dante’s in for it tonight. I’m a pent-up ball of anger after Luca interrupted me getting my release earlier. Exhaling the smoke into the frosty air, I can still hear the music pounding from the club. I can’t fucking wait to have a moment of silence.
“Get the fuck back here,” a loud voice booms from down the street. Great, now the drunk fuckers are filing out. I step back into the shadows with my back against the wall, leaning my foot up along the brickwork. This should be interesting; I love a good street fight.
The sound of high heels clicking against the pavement piques my interest. It gets quicker and quicker. Almost as if they are running. Shit, I observe my surroundings, hoping I am wrong. I can’t get involved in shit that I don’t need to. I have everything riding on the title fight. I can’t fuck this up, and street fighting certainly would. I’m already in shit with Grayson and Stacey for being pictured with ‘too many women.’ Why the fuck they care, I don’t know. Public image isn’t my problem. I pay good money for that shit to disappear.
By this time, the clicking has stopped.
“Get off me, Jamie! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Fuck, I recognize that voice. No, it fucking can’t be.
“I said, get your hands off me now!”
Nope, that’s it. Fuck this. I push off the wall into a jog. It may be dark out, but it’s New York, and everything’s lit up all night long. Making my way on the sidewalk, I follow the voices that keep talking.
“I fucking told you I need you back, and you didn’t fucking listen. So now I’m going to have to take you.”
What in the fuck? I try to remain calm and focus on my surroundings. I’m certain I know who this is.
Bingo, I see two shadows in the alleyway just off the street. I can’t make out faces, but I see straight away, a woman being held up against the brickwork by her throat as a hooded man leans into her. Looks like I’m about to get some anger out before the torturing tonight.
As I pace up the alleyway, softening my footsteps not to startle this prick, my heart is thumping in my chest, and my nerves are on end. It’s the same feeling I had when I saw her earlier. Shit, no. I hope I’m fucking wrong. I edge closer and her voice guts me straight in the heart.
“Jamie, please don’t do this,” she sobs.
He’s a dead fucking man. Puffing my chest out and retrieving the blade from my pocket, I shout, “I fucking told you, Jamie. If you so much as touched her, I’d fucking end you.”
I hold the knife up, giving him a wild smirk. That’s it, fucker. I’ve got your attention now. He lets go of his grip around Sienna’s throat where he was pinning her up against the wall and she takes this opportunity to pull her knee back and slam it straight into his balls. That’s my gorgeous firecracker.
Jamie throws her against the wall and doubles over in pain. I dart at her as quickly as I can and catch her before her head hits the pavement. Jamie, the limp prick, takes his opportunity to leg it. Oh, don’t worry. I’ll fucking find you later, you cocksucker.
Immediately turning my attention to Sienna, I gently brush the hair from her face. The alleyway only has dim lighting, so I can’t access the full extent of any injuries, but she’s shaking in my arms. She must be in shock. Her piercing blue eyes are boring into me, but no words are coming out. Fuck.
“Sienna, Baby. I need you to talk to me. Are you okay? Where did he hurt you?” Every muscle in my body is tensing, trying to hold in the burning rage I’m feeling in my chest. How fucking dare he? She wraps her arms around her chest and lets out a cough. Fuck. She’s freezing.
“Keller, can you take me home please?” she asks weakly.
“Of course, Baby. Can you wrap your arms around my neck?” She does. Scooping her up, she’s as light as a feather snuggled into my chest. I feel her breathing start to steady. I’m fighting an internal battle to stay calm, so she relaxes when every instinct in my body wants to hunt him down and rip him apart. Later, Keller.
So many thoughts are racking through my brain as I stride to the back entrance of the club. My gunmetal gray Aston Martin waits, shimmering under the street lights. What did Jamie mean when he said he needs her back so he’s taking her? That sounds like a lot more than just a breakup. The prick sounded desperate, panicking.
I store this information to dive into later. With my mob connections, I’ll drag out everything there is to know about this fucker in no time and put a big red mark on his head. I bring my focus back to Sienna, still snuggled into my chest. Now that we’ve reached the club, the crimson on her arms draws my attention. He fucking made her bleed. For every cut she has, he will have two to match, ten times deeper. We reach the Aston Martin in no time. Using my muscular frame to my advantage, I grab the keys from my driver standing by the passenger door and give him a nod to dismiss him. I’ll drive her myself. Bending down, I crouch and softly place Sienna into the red leather passenger seat. Taking the seat belt, I move it across her body.
My gentle caressing of her skin makes her instantly shiver. Fuck, she feels this too.
Taking off my jacket, I place it over her, stride around to the driver’s seat, and slide in. The engine roars to life, making the car shake. God, I love the thrill of this beast. Rubbing my hands along the leather of the steering wheel, I pull the stick into reverse, snaking my hand behind Sienna’s headrest as I turn to look out the back window. Catching her watching me intently, I see the desire burning in her eyes. Now really isn’t the time.
Once we are away from the club, being the early hours of the morning, the roads are quiet.
“Are you not going to ask me where I live? You’re going the totally wrong way.”
I have no intention of letting her go back to her apartment on her own. Looks like my second rule is going to be broken; no women in the penthouse. This is dangerous.
