Page 7 of Broken Promise

Page List


Font:  

Luca

The fight with Sofia leaves me feeling exhausted.

If I’m being honest, it’s not just the fight with her. It’s everything else that’s happened too—the drama of our wedding night, the attack on the hotel, the injuries that put me in the hospital, the sudden transference of Rossi’s title from him to me, and everything that entails.

But in the end, that all circles back to one person—Sofia. Without her, none of this would have happened. And although I’d never want to or sanction killing her, I can suddenly see why Rossi felt it was the most expedient solution. The fight we just had only made me more frustrated with her and her inability to stop being contrary over every single fucking thing I tell her to do.

It doesn’t help that just being near her is enough to turn me on, and fighting with her—seeing her skin turn that pretty shade of pink, seeing her eyes blaze and that delicate pointed chin turn up, seeing the way she quivers with rage—all of that makes me harder than I’ve ever been in my life. Now that we’ve gotten past the hurdle of taking her virginity, all I want to do is toss her into my bed and spend a solid weekend inside of her, doing nothing but fucking her in every possible way until we’re both wrung completely dry.

This is why I need to do anything but—exactly why I’ve made a point of making her think that I’m completely turned off by her innocence and lack of experience, when in fact, it’s the exact opposite. Because I don’t need the distraction. It’s hard enough for me to keep my lust for her under control. So every time we wind up face to face, it’s just a case of me protesting too much that I want nothing to do with her sexually.

When in fact, I want to doeverythingwith her sexually.

Sixteen years of fucking every woman I can get my hands on, and no one has ever captivated me like Sofia Ferretti—no, make that SofiaRomano.She’s got my last name now, which is yet another thing that drives me absolutely mad when it comes to her.

I’ve given her everything—my protection, my name, my home, my security and wealth, my cock, and anything else that she might need to keep her safe and protected. Yet, she acts as if I’m torturing her by insisting she follows a few simple instructions. It’s maddening, and it makes me want to strangle her.

Something that could just as easily be accomplished with my cock down her throat instead of my hands around her neck.

I shake off the thought, gritting my teeth as I try to put Sofia out of my head. At least by the end of this particular argument, she seemed to be leaning towards compliance. I’ll see how well that went when I go back home. But before then, I have any number of things I need to deal with—and the first is visiting Rossi before I go to his wife’s funeral and having a discussion without so many ears in the room.

“He needs rest,” the nurse tries to tell me as I stride towards his room, but I can see through the window that he’s awake, and this can’t wait. He’ll agree with me, so I simply ignore her and reach for the door.

She nearly slaps my hand away, and I turn to glare at her, pinning her with my icy green stare. “Do you know who I am, Ms.—” I look down at her nametag. “Browning?”

“No, but I assume you must be family if you were allowed up here—”

“I’m Luca Romano,” I tell her coldly, my voice stiff and commanding. The authority of it feels good. “The new don for the American branch of the Italian mafia family. And if you don’t know what that means, I suggest you go find your superior and tell them what I just said so that they can educate you on how to speak to your betters.”

The nurse goes bone-white, and I allow myself to enjoy it for a moment. There are benefits to my new title that goes beyond wealth, and one of them I’m seeing in real-time right now.

“Of course, Mr. Romano,” she says quickly, backing up so that I can walk into the room.

“Flirting with nurses again?” Rossi jokes as I stride towards his bed, pulling up one of the chairs so that I can sit.

“I’m a married man,” I say mock-gravely, and Rossi snorts, pushing himself up a little.

“You know as well as I do that doesn’t mean shit. I fucked more women after I was married than before, I think.” He grins. “The more power and money you have, the more they line up to fall into your bed. Mark my words, you’ll get more pussy now than you ever did before you took my title.”

“I didn’t take it,” I point out. “You handed it over. I’d have been happy to keep waiting.”

“Well, what’s done is done.” Rossi frowns, the light mood dissipating. “What did you come here to talk about, Luca? The funeral is tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes. The viewing is in the morning, the service in the afternoon.” I lean forward, looking at him intently. “We need to discuss the Bratva threat and what to do about it. I know you may not like how I want to handle it, but—”

“What is there to discuss?” Rossi’s voice rises. “They killed my fucking wife, Luca. We go to war and kill every last Russian dog with her blood on his hands until they’re driven so far back they won’t crawl out of their dens for another decade.”

Well, that’s about the answer I expected.I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the fight that I know is going to come. “That’s not how I think we should handle it. I understand the desire for vengeance—” I say quickly, “—but that doesn’t end, Vitto. It never ends. I want to take us down a different path.”

“What other path is there?” Rossi growls angrily. “They killed your father, Luca. They killed Sofia’s father. Your mother killed herself because she couldn’t handle the fear of wondering when you’d be next. How much more blood does Viktor have to order spilled before you’ll decide that they all need to die?”

“Vitto. Be reasonable.” I grit my teeth, trying to keep my voice measured and the frustration clear of it. “What do you think happens if we kill Viktor Andreyev? We should take out some of his soldiers, yes. Maybe even a brigadier or two. But we can’t slaughter the head of the Bratva and everyone else along with him. What does that say, to the other territories, to the Irish that we drove out of New York decades ago and have tentative peace with now if we just kill another leader? Spill his and every other Russian’s blood in the streets until they’re red with it? There will be no trust anymore. No reason to make treaties. It will be an all-out war, and no one will believe us when we try to make deals. Our business relies ondeals, Vitto. Hell, we’ve been working with the Irish on guns for the last seven years, and it’s made you a wealthy man.”

“I don’t give a fuck about any of that. They killed Giulia.” Rossi’s face reddens with rage, and for a minute, I worry he might push himself over the edge into a heart attack or something equally as bad.

“Forgive me for saying this, but I didn’t think you weresoin love with her, Vitto,” I say calmly. “They killed her, yes. It will not go unpunished. If you want the men who planted the bombs dead, I will ask Viktor to hand them over. We’ll throw them off a dock and watch them sink. But you’re talking about violence on a scale that hasn’t been seen in—Christ, I don’t even know when. Before I was born. Maybe before my father was born.”

“For Marco’s son, you’re more like Giovanni,” Rossi says with a growl. “It’s not about love, you fucking child. It’s aboutvengeance.It’s about them killing what was mine. Taking something that belonged to me. How would you react if it were Sofia?” He narrows his eyes. “I so much as threatened her life, and you threw away all that bachelorhood you so cherished and rushed to put a ring on her finger like a lovesick boy. And you’re telling me you wouldn’t paint the streets red to avenge her death.”


Tags: M. James Erotic