King of the Cage: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Devil’s Own)
King of the Cage: Chapter 4

Finishing off Enrico Sepriano, or whatever his name was, didn’t take much effort.

Giada could have done it herself. The image of her getting in his face, all five feet nothing of her to his six feet, and spitting at him, was permanently emblazoned in my memory.

The woman was pure chaos in a pint-sized body, curved like an old glass soda bottle. A pinup. A woman from a different time. There was no one in the room like her. She drew eyes with every movement, not that she took the time to notice.

I nodded to my right-hand man, Declan, as she left the ballroom with her friend. Sure, she might have been hitting the bathroom to prepare for me, but something told me she never went easy. The little troublemaker thought she could skip out on me when I was close to being done here and ready to take my reward? I didn’t think so. Not tonight.

But if she wanted to play, I’d indulge her.

I knew all sorts of games.

Once I had a tail securely on my prize, I finished the Italian off in a few sharp jabs. I didn’t want to kill him, after all, he wasn’t a nobody. He was a local politician, and that could bring the kind of heat I had no interest in. It would be messy, and generally speaking, a faux pas at a wedding where there was a fragile sort of ceasefire.

I might not be very well-behaved at the best of times, but going after my runaway prize was far more interesting than getting in a brawl. Aldo Sepriano’s face was like thunder; he glared at his weakling brother from the sidelines. He’d probably been hoping Enrico might be able to shine, but there’d never been any chance of that happening, in the ring against me. He’d given me a curt nod, acknowledgment that I hadn’t hurt his brother even more, when I’d had an excuse to, and hustled him away. Aldo didn’t get emotional; his public position didn’t allow for it.

I grabbed my dress shirt, pulling it over my bloodied knuckles before roughly fastening the buttons. My suit jacket went on top, and then I was heading out.

“That was impressive,” a woman called to me.

I swept past her.

“We should buy you a drink!” another called, reaching out to touch my arm as I passed.

“Sorry, I’ve got someone waiting for me, ladies.” I shot them a grin and continued on my way.

I got as far as the lobby before someone stopped me.

“O’Connor. I hope it’s not Giada Santori you’re running after. I need you in one piece for the match tomorrow night.” Raffaele Navarro, owner of The Blue Rabbit, a gentleman’s club in downtown New York. It housed a rather impressive underground fighting ring, and in days gone by, Rafe and I had made quite the pretty penny there together.

“I’ll be there.”

“You won’t be if Elio kills you!” Rafe called after me.

“He’d have to catch me first.” I grinned back at him and stepped out into the night.

He wasn’t wrong. Fucking Elio’s little sister was playing with fire, but who could blame me? She was dynamite, and I was powerless to resist. It didn’t matter if we were born enemies. Some women are worth burning your fingers to touch. Actually, now that I thought about it, I’d never bothered with someone off-limits before, but then no one had ever kept me on my toes as much as Giada had tonight. Her sharp tongue and fascinatingly devious mind were even more of a turn-on than her tight little body. Tonight, every single part of her was mine. I’d worry about Elio tomorrow. I was pretty sure taking me out would endanger the fragile agreement between our two families. At the very least, Elio Santori was a cautious businessman who didn’t like to piss his capo off or rock the boat. He wasn’t impulsive or reckless like me. It was a safe-ish bet to make that he wouldn’t have me whacked for fucking his sister all ways through Sunday tonight, but I’d watch my back extra carefully for a few days just in case.

She was worth the risk.

The night air had a hell of a snap, so I set off at a brisk pace. It was winter, after all. Not that January in America could hold a candle to the damp, freezing cold of Dublin at the end of the year, but I had no coat, and I wanted to arrive at my destination with all my parts intact. I had plans for a certain one of them.

I pulled out my phone and called Declan on the way.

“You finished with the Rocky wannabe?” Dec asked over the line.

“Of course. Where did the wee firecracker go?”

“Some fancy apartment block downtown. Went up to apartment 20A, on the top floor. I’ll send you the address.”

“Attaboy.”

“You need me to stick around?” Dec wondered.

“No. I’ve got it from here,” I assured him.

He chuckled. “I’m sure you do. Have fun. Don’t get into any trouble.”

“I make no promises. See you tomorrow.” I hung up, grinning at the thought of tussling with Giada. I could see it. You’d have to be blind not to get the appeal. As soon as I’d laid eyes on her at the wedding, I’d known I’d be taking her home, one way or another. Her approaching me had been a bonus. An opportunity dropped into my lap. Fucking destiny. A few minutes after meeting her, I’d found out she was Elio’s sister, a hell of a hacker, and indispensable to the capo. A smart cookie with a killer smile. It only made me want her more.

I reached the apartment building and headed for the elevators. Stepping inside, I caught sight of my reflection. My face was bruised and my lip bloodied. Dots of red were liberally scattered across my collar and soaking through my shirt. I looked disreputable as hell. An elderly couple stood in the elevator, and they glanced at me in alarm.

The older woman dug frantically through her designer clutch, and I tutted.

“As much as I respect your ability to defend yourself, ma’am, being pepper sprayed right now would put a serious damper on my evening. So, unless you want your man here to be thrown down the elevator shaft, I wouldn’t.”

She froze, and her husband pulled the bag from her and snapped it closed. They watched me with pale faces until the elevator stopped at their floor.

“You made the right choice… Have a great evening,” I called after them.

They hustled out of the elevator, turning to stare at me like I was the Antichrist as soon as they were clear. The woman even crossed herself. I gave her a mocking salute just before the doors closed, whisking me upward toward the top floor and my date with destiny.

Door 20A sat at the end of a long hall. It was quiet, which was convenient. Breaking into luxury apartment buildings tended to attract pesky attention like security guards. I didn’t plan on anyone saving Giada from me tonight. Luckily, the doorman was partial to bribery, as I’d found out when I’d passed him at reception.

I stopped by the keypad and reached into my pocket. I was old-school when it came to breaking and entering. I’d heard you could get electronic master keys these days. Nifty little devices that could read the signature of the lock and open it. I preferred something I could do with my hands. Fishing a card out of my wallet, I slid it down the narrow gap above the lock and got to work.

It clicked open seconds later. Some skills you never forgot, and breaking and entering was one of my fortes.

I stepped into the apartment cautiously. It was quiet. My instincts tingled madly. She knew I was here. She was waiting. I had a feeling she wasn’t waiting the way I’d told her to.

I entered fully, my feet muffled by the thick carpet, and shut the door behind me. The silence screamed with loaded intentions. I was here for my prize, but I could already feel I was going to have to fight her for it. I wasn’t sure if she was going to welcome me with open legs or try and shoot me. The unpredictability kept my attention, and I really fucking liked that.

The sound of ice tinkling against something caught my attention as I eased through the apartment. I turned toward it, only to realize my mistake seconds later. It had only been a distraction. The real danger came at me from the other side, while my back was turned. A sharp object pressed into my neck from behind, right over my carotid artery.

“Honey, I’m home,” I murmured after a beat of tense silence.

“Funny,” Giada said.

Hell, even her low, throaty voice was doing it for me, and the hint of Italian that worked through her accent. Indecently hot.

“It was, wasn’t it?” My light, disinterested tone belied my actions. I reared back, dislodging the knife for a second, long enough to push her hand up and take it from her, whirling us both around. Her body met the door hard, and I was right there. I held her knife, poised right beside her face.

Her dark eyes were huge, staring up at me with surprise and maybe even a little respect, but that could have been wishful thinking. I got the feeling Renato’s little right-hand hacker was hard to impress. She wet her dark-red lips, and it was like a kick to the goddamn groin. Her eyes flickered to the knife.

“That’s mine,” she said.

“Well, you took something of mine, so I guess we’re even.” I rocked my hips against her; I couldn’t help it. Being in touching distance of this woman made me feel like a fucking animal.

“What did I take of yours?” she scoffed.

“You. You took yourself away, when I’d very clearly told you what to do next. That wasn’t very nice, wee one.”

“Well, I’m not very nice. Haven’t you heard?” She raised her pointed chin at me, as if her words might actually put me off.

“I don’t listen to idle gossip. It rots the brain,” I told her calmly.

She wriggled against me. “How wise of you. Let me go.”

I tutted. “Why? So you can try and stab me again? I’m here to collect what you owe me, but if you want to wrestle some more, I’m fine with it. Whatever floats your boat… I’m fine with it. But can I make a suggestion? Let’s lose the clothes first. Wrestling is so much more fun naked.”

“Learned that in prison, did you?” she challenged, drawing a hearty laugh from me.

“Aye, maybe I did. You’ve got claws, Santori.” I stroked a hand down her creamy cheek. Her skin was bronze against mine. A beautiful brown color I could get lost in for days.

“So?” Giada challenged and raised that chin further. This girl was itching for a fight. “Does it turn you off?”

I shook my head slowly. “Quite the opposite. Have your claws, bite and scratch all you want. It doesn’t change anything.” I leaned in and placed one hand against the base of her neck so she couldn’t move her head. I traced my lips over her ear. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

She shivered beneath me. The strong, slim column of her neck flexed as she attempted to move but couldn’t. Her lips parted, and her pupils were blown. Her pulse thundered against my hand.

“I don’t let men tell me what to do,” she muttered.

I nodded. “I bet you don’t… until tonight, and me. What are you going to do about it?” I asked, genuinely curious.

She studied me. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, let me make it easy for you. Tonight, you owe me what you promised… and I will be taking it. I fought for you. I won you. I found you… you’re mine.”

She opened her mouth to protest, her go-to move, but couldn’t seem to replace any words to argue with me. A first for her, judging by the surprised look on her face.

“Cat got your tongue, wee one?”

A flash of annoyance went through her dark gaze, and I savored it. Riling her up was my new favorite hobby.

“Maybe you’re not my type. I don’t go for bossy, domineering men,” she announced.

“Live a little. Maybe being ordered about by a bossy, domineering man is what you need. You’ll never know unless you try it. To be clear, you will be trying it, tonight, with me. There’s no escape from that.” I couldn’t fight my grin.

“If you force me,” she narrowed her eyes at me in warning, “I’ll wait until you’re asleep and remove your eyeballs with a teaspoon,” she said sweetly.

I chuckled again. “I’m sure you would. I’d even let you, if I forced you… but I’m not going to force you,” I leaned in and murmured, pressing my forehead against hers.

She was so damn small, I had to contort my body to manage it. It took my weight off her, and we both stared down at her form, sinfully outlined in her thin satin gown.

Her nipples were hard pebbles, poking in urgent points against the material of her dress. I lowered my hand to one and pinched it, then rolled it gently between my fingers. Giada’s back arched, and her hips pushed forward.

“I want my knife back. It’s important to me,” she said.

“And you’ll get it back, wee one, don’t worry. I’ll keep it until I’m sure you won’t use it against me.”

“Asshole.” She shivered in my arms.

“Did your body get the memo that I’m not your type?” I palmed the weight of her heavy breasts. She had a body made for sin, and I intended to enjoy every inch of it.

She gasped when I bent myself double to close my mouth around the hard peak, wetting her through the thin material of her dress.

“You talk too much,” she gasped, breathless and hot as hell.

I straightened up. “So they say… If you want me to shut up, keep my mouth busy.”

She glared up at me and then pulled my face to hers. Our lips met with a clash, teeth and tongues battling for dominance.

I traced my hands down the curve of her back and gripped her arse. It overflowed my hands, and I didn’t have small hands. I needed to see it.

I gripped her hard and lifted her. She was light in my arms. Pinning her against the door, her feet far from the floor, I kissed her again while she squirmed and rubbed herself against me.

“Still going to deny that you want me?”

I pulled back to let her answer. Her cheeks were red, and her lips swollen. She looked debauched and utterly perfect.

“Come on, Giada. Don’t be coy or fucking predictable. You’re a big girl… be honest,” I urged her roughly.

She swallowed hard and then tapped at my shoulders.

“Let me down,” she demanded.

I stepped back and carefully lowered her to the floor. My hands were tight on her hips, and I didn’t want to let go when she pushed against my chest.

“Step back,” she insisted, a fire in her dark eyes that sent me up in flames.

Was I going to let this woman walk away, leaving me high and dry and desperate for her? Fuck, no.

She stared me down and then turned on her heel and stalked away down the dark hallway, deeper into the apartment.

“Well?” she called from an open doorway.

Adjusting my raging hard-on so my suit pants didn’t snap it right off, I followed her. The bathroom was marble and gold and lit with low spotlights.

Giada stood at the sink, her dark eyes watching me in the mirror.

“What was it again? ‘Take your panties off, wait in the bathroom, and bend over the sink for me.’ Right?”

She reached up under her dress and tugged. A black snatch of lace fell to the floor, and she kicked it away.

“Well? Let’s see what you’ve got, Irish.” She tilted her head back, all confident arrogance. As regal as a queen, and wicked as the Morrigan herself.

Anticipation roared through me as I stripped off my shirt and kicked off my suffocating dress pants. In my haste, the buttons of the shirt ripped free, pinging madly about the tiled room. In the mirror, we looked like a couple escaped from the underworld. Her eyebrow rose at the sight of my blood-spattered chest.

“It’s not mine, in case you were worried,” I growled and knelt behind her, sliding the skirt of her long, crimson gown up her legs until her bare arse was presented before me.

I spread her cheeks, and she flinched.

“I wasn’t. What are you doing?” she hissed over her shoulder.

“Just checking how much your pussy’s desperate for this bossy, domineering man.” I traced a finger down her cleft, dipping inside her.

“You’re insufferably arrogant,” she tossed at me.

“And you seem to really like that, don’t you, wee one?” I stuck my face between her cheeks and inhaled the scent of her pussy. “Fucking hell, that’s the good stuff.”

“Don’t do that!” She turned around, her hands tugging at my hair, tilting my face up.

And I let her. Her cheeks were as red as her dress.

“Don’t tell me the man-eater of the De Sanctis family is shy about her body?” The very idea didn’t compute.

She rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you save the psychoanalysis and get up here and fuck me on the counter?”

I slid my hands up her thighs. Her glistening pussy was right before my face now, my mouth watering. “Why don’t you understand that you’re not in charge tonight and pipe down… before I gag you with your own panties. The more you resist, the more I’ll have to teach you who’s the boss.”