Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“What is it?” I ask, my voice calm and controlled. Aemelia continues her work, seemingly unaffected, but I know differently. She’ll be wet between her thighs, dripping at the thought of my brothers watching us.
Antonio’s posture stiffens like a metal rod is forced through his spinal column. “Who shall I send?” he asks.
I rattle off eight names—our most reliable men and our maternal cousin, who’s known only as il coltello. Pleasure builds, but I hold myself rigid against the urge to shift my hips, to thrust, to arch my spine and empty deep in Aemelia’s throat.
“Tonight?” Alexis asks.
“Now,” I say. “They take him to the cellars and keep him there until I’m ready to take my revenge. We send a message that no one comes for our precious girl.” I stroke Aemelia’s hair, and she hums around my dick. I watch my brothers shift, their cocks already hard, tenting the front of their pants as they focus on Aemelia.
“Give the orders,” I say. “Then come back. Our little mafia princess needs all her kings around her.”
As they reluctantly leave to handle business, I tip Aemelia’s chin, drawing her away. My dick is glossy with her spit and dark with arousal. “You did so well,” I tell her. “That can’t have been easy, knowing you were being watched.”
“I liked it,” she whispers, her cheeks pink. “I liked their eyes on me.”
Of course, she did. I bend to kiss her, all deep tongue and urgency, and then I pull back, leaving her panting.
“When they come back, do you want them to watch, or more? They can touch you, lick you, fuck you. Whatever you want, we’ll give it to you.”
She rests her hand on my thigh, her eyes closing like she needs the safety of the dark behind her eyelids to consider my question. She’s so pretty that looking at her, taking in her beauty is light forcing its way through cracked walls.
“I want you all,” she says, “but how?”
“You don’t need to worry about anything, my sweet, innocent girl. Let us take care of you. And any time it gets too much, and you want to stop, all you have to do is say fermari, remember, and we’ll stop. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Come sit on my knee.”
She rises demurely and settles into the space she rested in before, her face buried in my neck. I stroke her arm and link my fingers with hers. She wears no rings, and her ears carry no jewels. This life hasn’t been fair to her, taking her wealth, her status, her dignity, delivering little of the kind of love she deserves, but I resolve to make it right.
“Understand something, Aemelia. You belong to me,” I say, gripping her jaw fiercely. “Every inch of you, from the tip of your pretty tongue to the soles of your feet. Mine to touch. Mine to worship. Mine to ruin.”
Her whimper of agreement is all I need to hear.
Once upon a time, Aemelia Lambretti was a mafia princess. Now I’m going to make her a queen.
33
AEMELIA
WALK WITH US
I rest in Luca’s arms while he holds my hand, his lips brushing over my forehead, whispering words in Italian that sound like a love song. His voice is low and deep, each syllable a promise, a spell that weaves around me, making it impossible to remember a time when I didn’t crave his touch. His arousal is evident, pressing against my stomach, but for now, he’s content to hold me, to anchor me in this moment.
But I can’t forget how easily he coaxed me into taking him in my mouth, how controlled he was as I sucked him, the way he spoke as if I wasn't on my knees, my lips wrapped around him. Knowing his brothers were there, watching him own my mouth, was mortifying and arousing in equal measure. Shame flooded me, but it was fleeting, replaced by something more dangerous—acceptance.
Luca Venturi is the boss of his family, and today, he became the boss of me.
His power takes away all the noise in my head, the fear, the anxiety, and the demands of life, leaving only peaceful silence in its wake.
How long before they return? How long will I have to wait?
Without Luca bending me to his will, my mind spins with questions. What happens when they’re done with me? When they’ve taken me together, when there’s nothing left to explore, will they send me home?
The thought makes my stomach turn. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to step back into my aunt’s suffocating apartment, heavy with the scent of approaching death and despair, where I’m the only one trying to keep everything from collapsing. I’m only twenty, yet I have three dependents. It’s too much. It always has been too much.
But the truth is even harder to face.
Wanting to stay with my captors, the men determined to erase half my bloodline should be unforgivable, even if it’s the half who despise me. And yet, the Venturis have protected me, cherished me, given me a sense of safety I've never known. How messed up is it that I feel safer in the tank of sharks than I ever did on the shore?