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My eyes followed my wife as she sank down on the sofa with a book. She kept her distance from me, and so did I, but damn it, I couldn’t stop looking at her. “I have work to do all day,” I informed her. As if she gave a fuck.

“Okay,” she said simply.

Stifling my frustration, I turned and headed for the elevator. Romero had sent me a message that he was almost there. The door opened on Matteo’s floor and he joined me. “Still no luck?”

I glowered, knowing exactly what he meant. “No. She can’t bear my touch.”

Matteo regarded me curiously. “Maybe you’re just trying the wrong approach.”

“And what kind of approach do you suggest?” I gritted out.

He shrugged. “I don’t know your wife well enough to tell you what kind of approach she requires. Maybe you should ask Romero—after all, he spends more time with her than you.” Matteo grinned challengingly.

“Fuck you.”

When we stepped into the underground garage, I almost bumped into Romero, who was about to take the elevator up to the penthouse.

“Luca, Matteo,” he said with a small nod.

“I’ll be gone all day to check on the drug lab that reported suspicious delivery trucks in their street and won’t be back until midnight. Keep Aria busy.”

“Yeah, keep her busy,” Matteo said, wiggling his eyebrows.

I almost punched him. He was pushing all my buttons today.

Romero regarded us curiously. “You’re gone a lot.”

I was when I should be spending every second banging my beautiful wife.

“He’s busy fucking his whore, Grace,” Matteo said.

Disapproval flickered across Romero’s face before he could hide it. “Aria is a good woman.”

“She’s my woman and none of your business, Romero,” I snarled. “Make sure you guard her and keep her entertained.” I stepped up to him. “And no word about Grace to her.”

Romero gave a tight nod. He stepped inside the elevator without another word.

Matteo chuckled as he followed me toward my car. His bike parked right beside it. “You know how to make people hate you. Aria, Romero…”

“I don’t give a fuck if they hate me, as long as they do as I say. Both of them are forever bound to me by their fucking vows.”

Matteo mounted his bike. I got into my car before he could say anything else that would drive me up the wall.Later that day I got a message from Father.

Matteo sent me a questioning look. “You look like you swallowed a bitter pill.”

“Father wants to see us.”

Matteo grimaced. “Again?”

“Come on. Let’s head over there. I want to get this over with as soon as possible.”

When we arrived in front of the mansion in the Upper West Side where Matteo and I had grown up, my insides tightened as they always did. I hated this fucking place, hated the memories connected to it. From the outside it was regally white, but it harbored only darkness. Light hadn’t been part of our childhood, or our present.

Matteo was already waiting on the bottom of the stairs leading up to the double doors. He was always quicker on his bike. His expression held the same apprehension that I felt.

We didn’t say anything as we headed up the stairs. The camera swiveled toward us. I keyed in the code that would switch off the alarm system and unlocked the door. The guards would already have seen our faces and stayed in their rooms in the back of the house. Matteo and I both froze in the entrance hall when Nina’s cry rang out.

“I’m sorry, Salvatore. Please…” She cried out again.

My hand curled to a tight fist. “Father, we’re here!”

Matteo shook his head, his mouth tight. “We should kill him,” he whispered. “You’re a better Capo. You’re a better everything.”

“Shhh,” I growled. Matteo had spoken quietly, but Father was paranoid. I wouldn’t put it past the old man to have micros hidden away somewhere so he could hear everything that went on in his home. There was nothing I wanted more than to kill my father, but the Famiglia would never accept patricide.

Father appeared on the landing, only in a bathrobe. He didn’t even bother closing it, and I had to stop myself from grimacing in disgust. He was covered in blood and still sporting a fucking boner from whatever he’d been doing to Nina. His cold eyes settled on Matteo and me, and his mouth pulled into a creepy benevolent smile. “Sons, good to see you.”

I knew he was trying to get a reaction out of us, daring us to look away from the sight of his disgusting old man dick. But Matteo and I were his sons. We had seen and done so many horrible things. No way in hell would we show weakness in front of that bastard.

“You called for us,” I said simply. Matteo stayed silent, which was for the best.

Father regarded my brother, and I knew he was daring him to say something. My muscles tensed. He had at least six guards in the back of the house. If Matteo lost his shit and we had to kill our father and his men, it would get nasty. Thankfully, Matteo gave a tight smile. It was fucking fake, but Father wouldn’t know that.


Tags: Cora Reilly Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Erotic