Luciano: Lovers-to-Enemies-to-Lovers Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Luciano: Chapter 11

I watched Matteo devour the chocolate and held back my grin. Grace’s attention was on her phone, and I could see the reflection of it in the car window. She was downloading the Rosetta Stone app. It bothered her that I could understand her son and she couldn’t. The frustration was written all over her face. She was so focused on Rosetta Stone, she missed Matteo glancing his mother’s way before he devoured the second chocolate bar. It wasn’t pure chocolate anyhow. It was more cookie crumbs wrapped in chocolate.

His eyes traveled my way and realizing he had been caught, regret entered his eyes. I winked at him, trying to assure him his secret was safe. A smile spread over his face, and suddenly jealousy hit me. Matteo didn’t look like his mother, but he had her smile. It lit up his whole face.

Something in my chest shifted, cracking the hard ice my heart had become. I decidedly shut it down. It was nothing; I certainly wasn’t turning soft for a boy that wasn’t mine. He was just a kid, and I happened to grab the snack on my way out of the plane. The kid slept the entire fight, so I grabbed it because I wanted to make sure I didn’t have a screaming kid in the car during our two hour drive.

Glancing in his mother’s direction, I watched the reflection in the glass as she shifted from her language app to her emails. She didn’t know that Massimo had put a trace on her and Ella’s phones. When we went through security in the airport, her and Ella’s electronics were given to Massimo by the guard. It took him all of two minutes to add a tracing bug while Ella and Grace were being patted down to ensure they had no weapons on them. We would see everything they do on their devices, and who they talk to.

My lip tilted up remembering how Grace spat at the security guard. “My ex-husband is a criminal, not me.” She was pissed off they pulled her and Ella out of the line to check.

Grace lifted her eyes and smiled softly the moment she saw her son’s face. “Oh, Matteo. Your face has chocolate smeared all over it.”

The boy grinned, showing off his teeth stained with chocolate. Massimo chuckled next to me. Truthfully, I would have laughed too if not for Grace’s constant glaring my way. She pulled out a baby wipe and cleaned out his face while he kept trying to avoid it by shifting his face left and right.

“Did you know your uncle petitioned to have all your assets transferred to him?”

Her movements paused and she stiffened at the question, but I didn’t care. There was no time to waste. I would start digging till I got all my answers. Her lips pressed tight, and there was no doubt in my mind that she knew.

I waited for her answer, the tension thick in the car. The vehicle could easily transport ten people, but right now, it felt too small for the five of us. Foolishly, I wished it was only Grace and I. If it was just the two of us, I’d get an answer out of her. I remembered how she caved when I touched her, her body melting under my fingertips.

“Yes.” Her admission surprised me. Hell, the fact that she answered at all surprised me.

“Did you ask him to do that?”

Her eyes went to her friend and then returned back to me. “No.”

“Was he going to split it with you?”

Something crossed her face, it almost looked like fear, but she quickly composed herself.

“Luciano, keep my son and me out of your damn games with my family,” she hissed in a low voice. “Whatever is going on, I am not interested to be part of it.”

“You are Romano,” I told her with a smirk. “You have always been part of it.”

The loathing in her stunning eyes should feel like a victory. A twisted, bitter victory. She sat stiffly, her hands clenching in her lap. She didn’t even try to hide her contempt for me. I trapped her, and there was nowhere for her to go.

Let her hate me, I thought to myself. I don’t care.

She’d serve my purpose; once and for all, I’d get this woman out of my system and out of my head. If she was financing her uncle’s activities, I’d have her broke before the week was out. There was no room for her in my life. I’d take what I want and then send her on her way.

She can run back to her man, I thought bitterly. But I knew it was a lie. I’d never let her go to another man. The only way out was death.

“Mamma,” her son called out to her. As she glanced at Matteo, her features instantly softened.

“Yes, baby?”

“Bene?”

That kid worshiped his mother. For all I knew, he was still in diapers, yet he was already worried about his mother.

“Yes.” She pulled him into her arms and pressed a kiss against his forehead.

For the rest of the trip, she ignored me.

While she stared out of the window, stubbornly, I couldn’t help but admire her graceful pale neck. The last time we drove together, I couldn’t keep my mouth off her neck, nibbling and licking her soft skin. I wondered if she still tasted the same. My eyes roamed over her face, and I noticed exhaustion written all over it. While her son slept during our flight, she didn’t. Even Ella fell asleep, but Grace remained awake. As if she kept watch, which was ridiculous. Did she think I was going to throw them all out of the plane?

She probably did think that, considering how we parted ways. But what did she expect? Her family killed my mother and sister. There was no way she didn’t know what her uncle and grandmother had done to them, cornered them and killed them execution style in front of my father’s eyes. Even knowing what her family had done, Grace betrayed me by telling her family about my shipment. I just started to trust her, and she betrayed me at the first opportunity.

My father suggested that she might have been scared of her family and was forced to betray me. But if that was the case, why didn’t she just tell me? She knew I was stronger than her family. I would have protected her. Her family couldn’t hurt her while she was with me.

No, I didn’t believe she was forced at all.

We approached my property, and I sensed more than saw Grace tense. In fact, she was so tense, I feared she’d snap in half. The moment the car came to a halt, my father was at the entrance, eagerness and restlessness all over him.

I exited the car and extended my hand to help my wife who held onto her son for dear life. She ignored my hand and exited.

“Gracy, sei venuta.” It was hard to miss the happiness in my father’s voice. He gave me a nod, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Mia cara.”

I watched my wife in shock and disbelief. Her eyes glimmered and her lower lip trembled, as if she would burst into tears at any moment. She would have been perfectly happy to kill me and not look back, but emotions reflected in her eyes as she looked at my father.

“Hello, Mr. Vitale.” Her voice shook as she greeted him.

“No, no.” I stared at my father who beamed excitedly and suddenly shed five years off his features. “No Mr. Vitale. Dad, sì?”

She gave him her soft smile and nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I loved my father, he was my idol. He taught me everything. But at this very moment, the jealousy and envy ate at me. My wife paled and ran the moment she saw me. But she smiled softly and sincerely at my father.

“Sì, sì. Dad.” Matteo broke the moment, and it seemed my father only now noticed that Grace held a child.

“Chi è questo?” My father asked, his gaze on the boy. He would finally realize Grace was not part of this family. She was Romano. “Who is this?” he asked in English.

“Um, this is my son,” Grace murmured softly. My father gave her an odd look and then his attention returned to Matteo. He reached his hand and he gently took his chubby cheeks between his thumb and index finger, making him laugh. He used to do the same to me when I was a kid. “Matteo.”

His eyes snapped to Grace, and I didn’t have to guess what crossed his mind.

“It’s just a coincidence,” I told him in Italian. I didn’t want my father to draw the wrong conclusion. He didn’t need that hope in his old age when it would only get crushed sooner or later. But my father just ignored me and grinned at her.

“Ahhh, little Matteo,” he spoke softly. “You call me Nonno.”

I groaned inwardly. There would be no dissuading my father from allowing the boy to call him Nonno now. Grace barely stepped foot onto my property, and she was already conquering hearts. Damn it, I didn’t need this right now. I needed to use her to bring down her family and get her into my bed till I had my fill of her.

He wrapped Grace and Matteo into a hug. “Welcome home,” he murmured softly, placing a kiss on the boy’s forehead.

The boy grinned and rambled something that sounded half Italian, half English.

My father chuckled softly. “Sì, Matteo. We have a beach and a pool.”

“Um, he can’t swim yet,” Grace muttered. “Ah, Mr-… Nonno, this is Ella. Not sure if you remember her. She’ll be staying with me.”

He remembered her. My father never forgot a face.

“Hello.” Ella looked just as happy to be here as much as Grace.

He smiled. “Hello Gabriella. Grazie for watching over Matteo and Grace.”

She smiled uncomfortably. “I think it was the other way around,” she muttered.

Grace pulled her into a hug. “We had each other’s back. We watched each other.”

They shared a smile before Ella’s eyes darted to Massimo, a blush coloring her cheeks. She likes him, I realized smugly. And with that realization, a plan formed in my fucked up brain. I knew there was no chance in hell Grace would ever share what happened since those two left the country, but I wondered if Ella would be an easier shell to crack.

“You must be tired,” my father fussed over the women and Matteo. “But first we eat.”

“Thank you.”

All of them headed into the house, while Massimo and I lingered behind. The moment they were out of earshot, I turned to Massimo.

“See if you can get any information out of her friend,” I instructed. “I want to know what they did for the past three years.”

“What the fuck, Luciano? You want me to torture her?”

“No.” After all, I wasn’t that cruel yet. “Seduce her.”

That shouldn’t be too hard of a task. She liked him, and he obviously liked her too. Without another word, that conversation was over. Massimo didn’t need detailed instructions.

I was tired as fuck, but we needed an update on what happened over the last few days. Both of us headed into my office, and I dialed up Cassio.

“Luciano, you bastard,” he greeted me, his voice booming through the speaker. “You’re back. Is Massimo back too?”

“Yes, we are both here.”

A moment of silence and an exhale. “Okay, are you going to tell me whether or not you found your wife?”

“I did, and she’s back here.”

“Hmm.” He cleared his throat, covering his surprise. “She came willingly?”

“No.”

“Is she working with Alphonso?”

God, I fucking hated even thinking that she might be working with Alphonso.

“I don’t know,” I gritted. “She isn’t exactly cooperating. Or talking much.”

“We’ll need to keep an eye on everything she does.”

“Cassio, she is my wife, and none of your fucking concern.” I tried hard to keep my calm. Just the thought of any other man around my wife or even concerning himself with her, was enough to send me into a rage. “I have a tracker on both her and her friend’s phone. I will handle my wife, my way.”

Silence followed. I didn’t give a fuck if Cassio liked it or not. It wasn’t up for discussion. Yes, I banked on him needing me, but even if he didn’t, nobody was to touch my wife.

“Okay, we’ll do this your way. You’ll keep me informed. Yeah?”

Anyone else, Cassio would have killed them for telling him off like that. The fact he let it slide for me said a lot. It was at this precise moment that I knew we would always have each other’s back. No doubts, no questions asked.

“Yes.”

“Is she okay?” There was nothing but concern in his voice. “More importantly, are you?”

“She has a kid,” I grumbled. “Anyhow, tell us what we missed?”

A heartbeat of dead silence and then he answered, changing the subject. After all, what was there to say about it!

“Well, while you two were strutting through Europe,” he said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. Massimo and I rolled our eyes at the same moment. “Alphonso and my father struck a deal. Romano is playing the Columbians. He and my father plan on ripping Raphael off the moment Alphonso receives the goods. So they get free shipments of women and drugs, and keep all the money.”

“Do the Columbians know?” I didn’t want to see anything happen to Raphael and his men. Yes, we were all criminals, but Raphael was like us. He stuck to drugs and arms smuggling, staying clear off human trafficking. If something was to happen to him, the next guy that stepped into his spot might not be so honorable. Yes, Raphael’s father was a bastard but so was Cassio’s. We were our own men, not our father’s men. Luckily, my father was a great man but not all of us were lucky like that.

“Yes, I alerted them.”

“Anything else?”

“There is something else, but we don’t have any details yet.” Cassio didn’t seem happy about it. He was very much like me in that regard. He hated waiting on information. “Luca hacked into our father’s email and found correspondence with Alphonso referencing an old agreement between my father and the Romano family. There isn’t much more than that. We still have some digging to do before we know exactly what it is, but I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“Have you run it by Nico?”

There wasn’t a man walking this Earth that was more coolheaded than Nico. And he had an unkeen way of digging up the past. Probably all his vast contacts in every known, and unknown, agency on this damn planet. It was the reason he made a good advisor. The man was a human machine.

“Yes. He mentioned an old standing agreement between the Romano and King family that traded women of high social circles to high ranking members of the mafia. And he seems to think this agreement wasn’t only with the Romano family. He’s chasing it down.”

“You are kidding me?” It certainly sounded like a bad joke. “Like a matchmaking service for mobsters or some shit?”

“Fuck if I know. My bastard father and his ancestors kept a tight lid on it. There are only a few people that even know about it. Personally, I think it is some made up garbage.”

I didn’t point out to Cassio that his father’s ancestors were his as well. He hated his father’s guts and anything related to his father. I didn’t blame him. That man was a monster. Cassio and Luca were his sons, but he mistreated them, like they were disposable commodities. It was the reason Cassio and Luca only associated with their mother’s side of the family. Marco King, their half-brother, was no better than Benito King. He was younger than Cassio and Luca but he was a cruel asshole that enjoyed inflicting pain. Just like their father. Marco’s mother was no better. Some airheaded, gold digging, blonde bimbo that insisted she was a natural redhead. The whole world knew she wasn’t. It was probably the reason Marco King was obsessed with redheads. Something definitely wrong with that one.

“Matchmaking for mobsters,” I muttered. “Now there is something I have never encountered.”

“You and me both.”

We worked through a few more outstanding items. I would have to get in contact with Ghost soon and schedule the next three dates I would require services. That actually improved my mood slightly. For some reason, I liked corresponding with Ghost. I found the humor that shone through those short messages entertained me.

The next morning when I woke up, I felt at peace for the first time in over three years. I checked my phone to see if Grace or Ella had reached out to anyone. Nothing, not a single email or text went out. I logged into the security system and accessed the cameras in her son’s room. By the time I was done with meetings and handling all the business I had missed over the last few days, Grace had already gone to bed, along with her son.

The room I designated for Matteo came up on my phone screen, and I found Grace’s sleeping form. Her brown colored hair spread across the pillow, making her skin appear even paler than it really was. I fucking hated that hair color. She still looked beautiful, but something about those ginger red curls matched her personality to a tee.

It took me a few seconds to realize something wasn’t right. Where was Matteo? I checked different angles of the room to ensure I covered the entire room. He wasn’t there. Abruptly, I jolted out of the bed, put my pants on and rushed out of the room shirtless.

That’s when I heard it. The soft giggle of a child.

I followed the sound and found Matteo in the kitchen, sitting in a highchair. My father fed him brioche con gelato. A sweet roll filled with ice cream, a summer Sicilian breakfast. Neither one of them noticed me, and I listened to my father speak to Matteo in Sicilian dialect about things they would do today. Matteo grinned, which told me he understood him perfectly. This boy already captured my father’s heart.

“Come in and sit with us, Luciano,” my father said without lifting his head. “Have breakfast.”

I sat down next to the boy, his beaming smile contagious. “You like that breakfast, huh?”

He nodded his head eagerly. “Sì. Più, per favore.” More, please. There was a smudge of ice cream on his cheek.

I chuckled. “I think one brioche is quite enough,” I told him, smiling. “Your mother won’t be happy about feeding you gelato for breakfast.”

He took my hand and held it as he finished the last bite of his breakfast. My eyes lowered to his small, chubby hand in my large, rough palm. His hand barely covered a quarter of mine. Fuck, my chest hurt again. At this rate, I’d get a heart attack soon.

He cooed some more unrecognizable words and I smiled. “I guess so, buddy. I didn’t pick up on that.”

“Spiaggia,” he babbled.

“He is quite adamant about going to the beach,” my father spoke softly, a smile I haven’t seen on his face in a long time playing around his lips.

“Ah, Luciano.” Our cook strode into the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Sure, thank you,” I told her. “And can I have one of those brioche, please?”

Surprise flashed across her face, but she quickly recovered and brought me a plate.

Massimo strolled in at that moment. “I want one too, please.”

He sat down next to my father. “Buon giorno.”

“Buon giorno, Massimo.” My cousin was the closest thing I ever had to a brother. His mother was my father’s sister, and he practically grew up with my sister and I.

Maria placed brioche in front of Massimo. “Make sure you eat it all, boys.” She loved feeding us.

“Aren’t you too old for brioche?” I joked, poking at Massimo.

“You can never be too old for that,” he murmured, biting into his breakfast. “Besides, aren’t you?

“No, I’m not,” I answered him.

“Damn, I forgot how good they are. Right, Matteo?” Massimo looked at the little boy and the latter nodded in agreement.

I smiled, shaking my head at him. Strangely this moment felt almost like the old days, before life became a clusterfuck. Before my mother and sister were killed by the Romano, changing all our lives forever.

“How about we share this one, Matteo?” I asked the little guy next to me who watched us all with wonder in his eyes. At the offer his big eyes sparkled like I just offered him the world. I let him take a bite and returned my gaze to my father.

“Should I take him to the beach?” My father asked.

“Grace said he can’t swim yet. Probably better if you don’t go down there alone.”

He nodded. “He seems to love the beach.”

Considering where we found them hiding, I was sure he was right. “Boy probably spent every day at the beach, and now he’s missing it.”

“Where did you replace her?” My father asked.

There was no question about who we were talking about. “Favignana.”

“Your mother’s hometown?” Surprised etched on his face while I nodded in confirmation. I didn’t think it was a coincidence. Grace spent quite a bit of time talking with my father during our short marriage. He often spoke of his time in his hometown and my mother. “Was Matteo born there?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know.” He watched me pensively, and I wondered what went through his mind. Usually, my father and I were in sync, but when it came to Grace, our wires always got crossed.

“Lei resta qui. Davvero, mio figlio?” She will stay here. True, my son? Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that my father still wanted Grace to remain. I thought she’d fall out of his graces, but my father had a permanent soft spot for my wife. And now her son.

“Più.” The little boy demanded, giving me time to answer my father. He was certainly bossy. He opened his mouth and waited for his brioche. Hopefully we finish this breakfast before Grace wakes up. Content he got his food, Matteo reached over closer to me, and I watched, curious what he was doing.

“Ouch.” Little schmuck pulled my nipple.

The kid gave me a grin and murmured, “Latte.”

My father burst into booming laughter, shortly followed by Massimo and Maria. I grinned too, hearing my father laugh making me happy.

“Sorry, buddy,” I told Matteo. “I don’t have any of that shit there. But Maria will get your milk from the refrigerator.”

She was already pouring milk into a plastic sippy cup. I could see her back shaking with the laughter she was trying to hold back. Glad someone was having fun at my expense. Anywhere else, I’d shoot the fuckers down. But I guess I’d allow it in the kitchen.

She brought milk over to him.

“Here you go, little guy.” She placed the sippy cup in front of him. It would seem it didn’t take her long to buy all the stuff a kid needs.

“Grazie.” I had to give it to Grace, the boy had manners.

“Maria, thank you for getting all the stuff we need for Matteo.”

“No problem. It is nice having little ones in the house again.”

I flinched. Maria has been with us since my sister and I were children. Glancing at my father, I didn’t see the usual soul shattering sorrow on his face. Instead, there was hope edged in his wrinkles.

“Yes, she will stay, Dad,” I answered my father’s earlier question in Italian. I didn’t know how I would keep Grace with us, but I’d replace a way. If I had to chain her to this house, I’d ensure she remained in this household for as long as my father lived. And if I had to get rid of Matteo’s father… Fuck it, I would. Everybody had a price.

The next few minutes we all sat in silence. Matteo drank his milk, his eyes slightly droopy, like he was getting tired. His fingers wrapped around my finger, his hand resting against the palm of my hand. My father was content just watching Matteo. Massimo was focused on his phone. And I… Fuck, I wasn’t sure what I felt or where I stood.

“Matteo,” Grace’s panicked voice traveled across the house. He didn’t hear her, his head slowly shifting towards me, dropping over onto my shoulder.

“I’ll go tell her he’s here,” Maria whispered in a low tone and rushed out of the kitchen. She didn’t want to stir up Matteo, who was falling asleep. Less than twelve hours and this little boy had my staff wrapped around his finger.

Maria came back with Grace, and her eyes immediately went to her son. She looked fucking gorgeous in a black tank top and baggy silky pajama bottoms that sat low on her hips, exposing skin on her lower belly. My cock immediately jolted to attention. My wife has had that effect on me from the moment I saw her in my nightclub. You’d think it would ease up, but it had only gotten worse.

I watched relief cross her face at seeing Matteo and turn into a soft smile. “Is he falling asleep?”

I nodded at the same time that my father replied, “Sì.”

“Sit down, Grace. I’ll get you some coffee,” Maria offered.

“Um, I can-”

“No, you sit down. I remember how you like your coffee.”

Grace tensed slightly at the reference of our past, but my father wouldn’t let her retreat. “Here, sit with me Gracy.”

He patted an empty seat between Matteo and himself. Her gaze darted to her son who was now soundly asleep, against my arm. Then her eyes traveled over me, and I watched her pale, delicate throat move as she swallowed hard. Her gaze was stuck on my chest, lingering over my tattoos. The tattoos always fascinated her. She wouldn’t meet my eyes, her cheeks blushing light pink.

She wants me, the thought pierced through my brain victoriously. My wife is still attracted to me.

“Morning, Grace.” She startled and her eyes snapped up. “Did you sleep well?” I asked her, pretending not to notice her attraction towards me. All the while, I schemed how I would get my wife into my bed as soon as possible.

“Fine.” She focused on her coffee and turned to look at my dad, taking the offered seat. “Could we get bed rails or something for that bed? It is too high up, and I kept waking up to ensure he didn’t fall out. I don’t know how I didn’t feel him get out of bed.”

I glanced at Maria. “We got them,” she assured me. “We didn’t want to go in and wake up the baby or you. But I’ll have someone install it today.”

Grace smiled at her gratefully. “Thank you very much, Maria.”

“Of course.” She smiled back and went back to doing whatever she was doing.

“Matteo woke up early,” my father patted my wife’s hand. “I heard him call out so I opened the door and took him. You needed rest.”

“Thank you. I just can’t believe I slept so hard that I never even heard anything.”

“You were tired,” my father comforted her. “That was a long trip.”

“Yeah,” she muttered under her breath. “An unnecessary and forced trip.”

My father refused to let her words deter him from his happiness of having my wife back. Honestly, it would have been comical if only I didn’t know I was the reason she hated to be back.

“This is good; you are back. You made me very happy.” Oh, my father was going all out. “Now, I can die in peace, but first I want to see Matteo grow up.” A resigned breath left her lips. “You did a good job raising him, Gracy.”

Yes, my father worshipped the ground Grace walked on. I could see my wife shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“Um… thank you, Nonno. But he’s only two.”

“When is his birthday?” he inquired. God, if he got it into his head to throw some crazy children’s party, I’d have to put a stop to it all.

“October.”

My old man grinned like he just got the best gift of his lifetime. “What day?”

She acted like she didn’t want to tell him. I couldn’t understand what the big deal was.

“October 17th.”

“Perfecto, it is coming soon.”

Grace nodded, avoiding his eyes now too. Instead, her gaze shifted to her son’s sleeping form. She watched her son’s little hand wrapped around my finger with a sad expression. Like she was thinking about a painful memory she wanted to forget. I couldn’t help but ponder at her strange behavior. Honestly, I was surprised she didn’t take her son’s high chair and put it as far away as possible from me.

“Yours and Ella’s stuff will be here this morning,” I told her, breaking the silence.

Anger flashed in her eyes. “I expect you to have all our stuff packed up and shipped back when we leave too.”

“And where are you going to go?” I taunted her. “Back to the Romano empire.”

Angry red blotches marked the skin on her chest and her breathing slightly labored. I pissed her off. Good.

“Luciano.” I didn’t miss the warning in my father’s voice, but I never wavered my eyes from my wife. Her whole posture tensed, her gaze burning with hate.

Ignoring my father, I continued. “Don’t even contemplate calling them. This time, I’ll know before you betray me.”

“Fuck. You.” Sitting rigidly, her spine stiff, the look my wife gave me was a clear indication of how much she despised me. I remembered back to our early days of marriage. We fought back then too, but we only did it when alone, without witnesses. Even when I taunted her, she always refused to bait around my father worried he’d get upset. Clearly, she no longer had those qualms.

Ella walked in at that moment, breaking up the glaring contest my wife and I had going on.

“Morning,” Ella murmured and handed my wife her phone. A look they shared, a jerky nod, and my wife bent her head reading something on her phone. An emotion flashed on her face, but Grace now was unlike the woman I married. She was much better at hiding her emotions.

I glanced at Massimo, telling him silently to check the tracker.

Grace’s eyes focused on her phone. I couldn’t tell whether she just had good news or bad news. She carefully masked her feelings. Her only betrayal was her lower lip between her teeth. She used to do that when she was nervous.

Her soft, full lips were torture to gaze upon. I could still remember how they felt wrapped around my cock, how expertly she sucked and took all of me deep down into her throat.

Great, now I’d have to jerk off before heading for my morning meeting with the Columbians. My phone beeped, and in slow motion, so I didn’t wake up Matteo, I took it and read the message.

Firewalls on the device.

Need to hack.

If Massimo told me the sky was falling, I would have been less shocked. Why in the hell would Grace have firewalls on her phone? What was she hiding?

Do it.

“Everything okay, Gracy?” My father asked her in a concerned tone.

Her smile was forced as she locked her phone. “Yes, of course,” she assured him, lying expertly.

I watched her get up from her seat and opened the tray of the highchair.

“Hold him up,” she spoke softly. Placing the tray on the table, she leaned over and gently picked the boy up, wrapping him into her embrace. He stirred, but she murmured something softly and he went right back to sleep, with his head on her chest.

Without a backward glance, she left the room.

“Umm, is it okay if I take my coffee cup into my room?” Ella asked.

I nodded and watched her rush out after her friend.

“How long will it take you to penetrate those firewalls?” Massimo was one of the best when it came to technology. I had no doubt he would get it done.

“An hour, maybe two,” he muttered. “They are good.”

“What’s going on?” My father inquired.

“Nothing to worry about, Pa.” And that was the truth. There was nothing to worry about because Massimo would have their code broken in no time.

The morning meeting with the Columbians was longer than I wanted to. Truthfully, I didn’t even want to be here, although I was the one that started the entire thing in my efforts to bring the Romano family down once and for all.

“Alphonso expects the shipment within four days,” Raphael continued. He was pissed and wanted to go into attack mode against Alphonso and Cassio’s father. We had to calm him down, assure him to let the cards play out. “Of course, nothing will come.”

Once it was revealed that Romano wanted to set Raphael up and get him killed, the latter had a hard time pretending he could work with Alphonso Romano. He hated his guts to start with, knowing he tried to have his half-sister drugged. This just tipped the iceberg. He’d have to play along, pretend he didn’t know that Alphonso planned on taking goods from Raphael and then double crossing him. It wasn’t as if we were going to deliver women to Alphonso, even if he wasn’t planning on double crossing him.

“And you and your men will not be there,” I added. He pressed his lips into a thin line, showing his displeasure. “Before we kill him, Raphael, we need to let the cards play out. Let him fall. Don’t doubt me when I say, he will die.”

“I want that motherfucker dead now,” he gritted. “For sending men after Isabella. If Vasili didn’t intervene, they would have drugged her… kidnapped her for one of their fucking trafficking containers. Benito King too.”

“My father won’t be far behind him,” Cassio assured him.

Raphael nodded, not exactly happy but satisfied enough to let it go. Cassio was a man of his word, so he knew we could depend on him not to break it.

“Also, there is something I heard,” Raphael grumbled. “It is probably useless information.”

“What is it?” It was important we don’t discount any information. No matter how unmeaningful it might seem.

“I overheard Alphonso discuss the delivery of a woman,” he started explaining. “To Benito. It didn’t sound like his usual trafficking; something was off with it. Kept referring to her as the belle of the season.”

“What woman?” Cassio asked warily. He couldn’t stand his father, hated his guts for the cruelty he bestowed on everyone. But it seemed Benito constantly had something up his sleeve.

Raphael shrugged his shoulder. “Fuck if I know. But whoever the woman is, she is causing Alphonso trouble.”

“My kind of woman then,” I muttered.

“Yeah, and he mentioned that she should have been delivered years ago,” he added. The information didn’t make any sense, but we’d have Luca check into it.

We went through a few more details and called it a day. Cassio left, meeting Luca somewhere outside the city, and I wanted to rush back home. Instead, I had one more meeting to take care of. Reluctantly, I had to admit to myself that knowing my wife was in my home soothed me.

It hasn’t been even a day since Grace returned… correction, since I dragged her back, and I wanted to be wherever she was. Last night I found myself wishing she was in my room. I didn’t even care if she let me fuck her, I just wanted her within my sight. I wasn’t surprised she didn’t sleep in our bedroom, but damn if it wasn’t disappointing. Talk about being a drooling, lovestruck lover boy.

Yes, I slept better than any other night since my wife disappeared, but I also spent the entire night fantasizing about her… under me, on top of me, in the shower, bent over the couch. In turn, it made me agitated as fuck as the day progressed.

I dialed up Massimo as I walked into my office. “Everything ready?”

“Yes, they are all in a virtual lobby, waiting for you.” Seriously? Fuck, I finally get to see the Ghost. “Except for one.”

And the hope was squashed.

There was no doubt in my mind which one wasn’t. This was the meeting to kick off the plans and schedule for the next six months. I have kept the best for myself. As for others… even if Alphonso Romano or Benito King did business with them, I didn’t give a fuck. They weren’t that good and most runners avoided doing business directly with Benito King.

After that meeting, I finally went home. Once there, I strode directly to the surveillance room.

Massimo lifted his head. He could tell I was in a pissed off mood during the last meeting. I caught him more than once during our virtual meeting stifling his grin. Of course, it wasn’t anyone’s fault that the Ghost didn’t show. But I still wanted to shoot all those assholes. It was a good thing that only Massimo and I could see everyone, all they saw during that meeting was each other’s face, never us.

What was the deal with the Ghost? I need that motherfucker on my payroll. After my last email, there was no reply, and I found myself wondering if I lost that runner. The services of that individual were highly sought after, and the Ghost only took two jobs, three per month tops. The confirmation email with acceptance of my offer never came, and I debated whether I offered enough now. The Ghost was offered the highest retainage, but I was willing to up it to ensure the acceptance. But a response would have to come in order to start the negotiation.

I checked my emails on the phone for the hundredth time since the virtual meeting ended. My phone buzzed signaling an incoming email, and I saw the reply. I quickly swiped it open and read it.

To: Ruthless King

From: The Ghost

Agreed to retainage and keeping it exclusive to you. I’ll need a few days’ notice for upcoming transactions.

Sorry, I couldn’t make your virtual meeting. My terms are unchanged in regards to privacy. If that’s a problem, I can’t do this.

Let me know. Otherwise, business as usual.

G

My lip curved slightly at reading the response. Somehow it didn’t surprise me, though I had to wonder whether this runner had brass balls or just wasn’t afraid. The reputation of the Ruthless King on the black market wasn’t the shiniest one, but I paid well, and as long as you didn’t fuck me over, I was fair. At least I believed I was fair.

“Meeting went well, huh?” he retorted sarcastically. We had a bet whether the Ghost would show. I thought I made it appealing enough for the person to bite the bait. We were both curious to know whether it was a man or a woman behind that title. My intuition told me it was a woman, but the way the Ghost handled business made me think it was a man. Massimo was certain it was a man. I wasn’t so sure though. Especially after that email with the comment about the beach. Men are usually not excited to go to the beach.

“Yes, it went peachy,” I spat back dry. “As you well know. Though I just got an email from the Ghost.” I quickly started typing my reply, letting the Ghost know the privacy terms were fine. “The privacy terms are a deal breaker.”

“So, are you keeping the Ghost on or cutting him loose?” I noted Massimo said him.

I grinned. “I’m still not convinced it is a him,” I told him. “But yes, I’ll accept the terms.” Switching to a more interesting subject, I tilted my head towards the surveillance monitor. “What have those two been up to?”

I tilted to the screen. It showed Grace and Ella by the pool.

“Pretty much this most of the morning.” His eyes lingered on Ella. I knew he had hots for her. Apparently, quite a bit of hots.

“Any progress with Ella?” I questioned him.

His eyes darkened and he grunted. “She avoids talking.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Just talking?”

“Fuck off, Luciano,” he grumbled. There was no doubt those two were already fucking. “She’ll talk eventually.”

Yeah, good luck with that. Those two had anyone connected to me on the enemy of the state list. By default, Massimo was shit out of luck. Still, it didn’t hurt to try that route.

We had a bet about Ella going. She’d be an easier one to cave than Grace. I saw the way she watched Massimo. He might be able to get some information out of her way before Grace would spill anything to me.

But at least he was getting laid. He didn’t have to outright say it, but it was clear he was doing perfectly well in that department.

“Were you able to crack the firewall?” I questioned him. No wonder our tracer on both their devices showed no activity. They were both hiding all their transactions behind layers of firewalls.

“Almost there.” If I wasn’t so agitated and needed to know what my wife was doing, I’d laugh. Massimo fucking hated that those two were giving him run for his money. He was actually impressed and planned on using some of its set up to upgrade our own security system.

“Where is Roberto?” I questioned him.

“He was with your father for about five minutes and then headed for the city. He said he had to take care of some shit.” Frowning, I wondered what shit he would have to take care of. I didn’t send him to take care of anything for me. I glanced at the screen again, forgetting Roberto, and Massimo continued as if he could read my mind. “Grace has been messing around on the laptop and Ella sunbathed and swam all morning.”

“And the boy?”

“Your father took him to a playground.” I raised my eyebrow. “It will be hard when the boy leaves. Your father won’t like it.”

I frowned. I didn’t like to think about Grace leaving. If I could help it, it would never happen again. Besides, I told my father she was staying. I just needed time and her to stop fucking ignoring me or glaring at me.

Music blared through the monitors and both of us looked back at the screens. Grace and Ella were laughing, signing along the song. More like screaming, because neither one of them could carry a single damn tune.

If you’re looking for love

Know that love don’t live here anymore.

Yeah, they were also butchering the tunes. My eyes zeroed on my wife. She looked relaxed and happy. Whenever she was around me, she was tense. It didn’t take a genius to know she was determined to keep her distance. She trusted me less now than when we first got married.

Yeah, I wonder why, jackass? My mind mocked, but I firmly shut it down.

My eyes roamed over her body. She still had that suntan glow from her time in Italy. I thought she was beautiful when I first saw her three years ago, but it was nothing to the way she looked now. She was breathtakingly captivating. Yes, there was still vulnerability to her but it was her strength that shone through. How she challenged me at every turn! And her body, in that bikini.

Fuck, what is she wearing? My train of thinking abruptly ended. Is that like the tiniest bikini ever invented? And she wore that all day while Massimo watched her.

Massimo pulled his phone up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I barked out. If he tried to take a picture of my wife in that tiny bikini, cousin or no, I’d shoot him.

“I’m shazaming the song.”

I frowned. “What the fuck for?”

“Got to keep up with the trend of those two,” he muttered. “Ah, Miley Cyrus’ “Someone Else”.”

“Should we take off our bathing suits and just sunbathe nude?” Ella’s exclamation came through the screen, amid their singing.

“What a great idea,” my wife exclaimed.

Before I knew what I was doing, I strode in angry steps out the door and onto the patio. I didn’t realize Massimo was behind me till I stopped abruptly at the terrace to see my wife reaching for her back strap to untie her bikini.

“Don’t even fucking think about it!” I growled, shooting glares at my wife. If I wouldn’t be seeing her tits, nobody else would either.

She glanced over her shoulder. “First of all, you have no right to tell me what I can or cannot do,” her voice was unperturbed, dismissing me with her scolding look. “And second, I’m itching my back. Unless you volunteer to be my pool boy and scratch-”

I was behind her in one heartbeat, two seconds, and three strides.

“Sure, I volunteer,” I rasped in her ear. “I volunteer to scratch your itch.”

She was getting under my skin. Fuck, she has been under my skin from the moment my eyes met her sparkling gaze three years and nine months ago.

My callused palm placed against her back, I felt her stiffen at my touch. She hated my fucking guts. I waited, expecting for her to move away from me but she remained still, almost as the two of us dared each other who’d stop the connection first. It wouldn’t be me because I was finally touching her bare, soft skin. I have been itching to touch her since I found her.

I would take more from her. She’d sleep in my bed tonight.

“I want you to get rid of that hair color,” I growled. My voice was rougher than I intended. It was on the tip of my tongue to bark at Ella and Massimo to get lost so I could fuck my wife right here and right now. I didn’t give a shit who could see or hear us.

This need to bury my cock inside her was clawing at me, demanding I be sated.