Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Her eyes hooded, and her breathing labored. She snatched my wrist with those dainty fingers of hers and jerked it to her cherry-blossom lips.
She forked my fingers with her hot, wet tongue, tasting my blood, ravaging it like a hungry, feral thing. She growled, high on her own newfound ferocity, and I saw it then. Who she was.
A monster, like the rest of her family.
A pretty monster, but one who was capable of killing just like any other.
It was a thing of beauty, watching her feast on my blood. Submitting to her brutal nature. The way her eyelids fluttered shut, the shallow panting that made her tits bounce in this odd, erratic rhythm. Her sweet tongue moved in and out between my fingers, catching every drop.
I hoped she was a spy, because then, I’d have a very good excuse to punish her. And punishing a Ferrante was something I’d always had an appetite for.
Sucking in a breath, I stood up and fisted the unspoiled snowy sheets, tainting them pink.
A knock on the door reminded me there was a world outside of this suite, and that it was time for me to conquer it. I glanced at my wife, who had a postorgasmic, dopey look in her eyes and swollen lips. She didn’t seem so innocent and compliant under the morning light.
I turned my back on her.
“Limp your way to breakfast.”
_______
I disposed of Lila at the women’s breakfast table on the patio along with Fintan, Tierney, and two of my soldiers before meeting with the Ferrante men. I didn’t trust the Camorra with her safety. They fucked up once, and though she couldn’t get pregnant again, I didn’t like people touching my shit. My siblings were trustworthy. Chaotic and extremely messed up, but reliable.
“Where’d the blood on the sheets come from?” Luca’s businesslike tone gave nothing away as he and his brothers escorted me to Vello’s office.
I uncurled my fist and showed him his sister’s handiwork.
Luca nodded. “I’ll send someone with the cash tomorrow.”
“Next month I’m bumping it up from fifty K to eighty.”
“The fuck?” Enzo protested. “Why?”
“I got a preview when she changed this morning. You’re lowballing me. That pussy’s worth a lot.”
All three brothers trained their faces to a hard mask, but their flared nostrils gave their rage away. I never understood Italian conservatism. Tierney could get railed by every man on this island for all I cared as long as she consented to it.
“Don’t parade your whores in front of my sister ever again,” Achilles finally clipped out. “It’s disrespectful to the family.”
I followed them down a curved hallway with black and white checked marble and headless Roman sculptures. “Consider yourself lucky I haven’t raped her.”
I doubted I ever would, but I did like keeping people on their toes. Money could keep me sated for only so long. I was promised a docile little maiden and ended up with a venomous demoness. All bets were off now.
We arrived at the tall double doors leading to Vello’s Crimson Key lair.
“If I find out you touched her, I am going to snap your windpipe like a wishbone,” Luca said in a conversational tone.
“Your sister tried to kill me three times before breakfast,” I notified the worried brothers.
Achilles and Luca exchanged perplexed looks, both raising their brows.
“She doesn’t like it when you change her routine,” Enzo explained. “Think about it, man. She can’t control shit. Predictability is the only power she has.”
“And surely, you weren’t shocked by this turn of events.” Luca’s canine smirk made me want to bash those white teeth down his throat. “You bring out the violent murderer in people, Tiernan. Like Enzo plays with knives, and Achilles performs autopsies on his victims for shits and giggles. That’s your thing.”
“What’s your thing?” I marveled. “Moping around like a teenage girl who’s just been dumped?”
“Cleaning up after everyone’s mess.” He paused, giving it some thought. “Always doing the right thing.”
“Morality is mediocrity’s dry-cunted sister.”
I burst through the French doors of Vello’s office, tossing the sullied sheets on his desk. He was in the midst of what looked like a dialysis treatment, two uniformed nurses fussing over him behind his desk.
He examined the bloodstained sheets with furrowed white brows. “Did everyone else see it?”
I nodded, helping myself to a drink at his liquor cart, making myself right at home.
“Drinking at eight thirty in the morning has a name,” Enzo pointed out behind my back.
“Yes. It’s called fun.” I poured three fingers of whiskey from the decanter, slinging the amber liquid down my throat.
“I don’t remember offering you a drink, son,” Vello said.
“I don’t remember asking.”
“Good. Now that unpleasantries were exchanged, let’s talk shop.” Luca lit the cigarette dangling from his mouth. The three brothers took their seats around Vello’s desk, which left no room for me. Just as well, as I didn’t plan to stay long.