“What is it about her that makes her so perfect for the three of us?” Antonio leans back on my bed, tucking his arms behind his head.
“What are you so afraid of? What happened between us?” Salvatore prods.
I wouldn’t say I’mafraidof Celia because I’m not. I’m more worried about what all this means. The way she let us manhandle her, making her blossom beneath our touch, had never happened before. I’ve never come so hard in my life. My cock hardens just thinking about the things she lets us do to her. The way she followed Salvatore’s every command, soaking up our attention like a sponge.
I want to run to that room and apologize, beg for her forgiveness, and shower her with love and affection, but I won’t. I can’t because that would mean I regret what happened earlier today, and that’d be a lie. Celia deserves a better man than any of us could ever be.
“Nothing.” I run my hand down my face, wondering how I’m going to make it through the rest of the night without being inside her. Just the thought of feeling her walls clench around my cock causes me to harden.
My obsession has taken on a life of its own, taking over every thought and feeling I’ve had since I first laid eyes on her. I wanted to follow her as soon as she walked out the door of the club, using Antonio’s baiting as an excuse, but now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t think I’m strong enough to let her go. Even though I know in my soul we should.
“The king has spoken, Matteo. Celia is never leaving this place, at least not without us.” Antonio sits up straight, winking at me before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
“Until I say she can leave, she belongs to us.” Salvatore reaches his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone. “Gabriel is ready to chat.”
He shoves his phone into his pocket before heading out of my room and toward the office.
“Duty calls.” Antonio groans, following him out the door with me hot on his heels.
We head right into Salvatore’s office, not bothering to knock. Anyone else would catch a bullet in between the eyes for being so disrespectful, as he calls it, but we don’t give a shit. Salvatore might be the boss of the family, but to us, he’s family. His office isn’t anything fancy. A dark mahogany desk sits in the center of the room; the back wall is covered in bookshelves, filled with books. There are priceless paintings lining the wall, signifying the family’s wealth, but he could care less about them. To him, they’re only something to cover the walls.
“We’re listening Gabriel.”
Antonio and I take a seat in front of the desk, waiting patiently to find out exactly what’s going on.
“The woman in the picture you sent me is named Willa Kennedy. Twenty-one years old. Originally from Dubuque, Iowa. Her foster parents were Mr. and Mrs. Carl Washington. She was placed with them on August 15, 2002, at four years old. Both of her biological parents were drug addicts and died of an overdose the year before her placement. She aged out of the system a little over three years ago at eighteen before moving to Chicago.”
Gabriel continues rattling off information about Celia’s sister, but none of that matters. What’s her connection with the Irish man that’s been running for whoever is trying to take us down?
“Can we get to the important stuff? When did she go missing?” Antonio says exactly what I’ve been thinking.
“She went missing about six months ago. Was reported missing by Lyra, one of the receptionists at Club Sin, when she didn’t report to work for several days. A report was filed, but nothing ever came of it. The police assumed she overdosed, although she had no history of drug abuse. However, no body was found.”
“There’s the connection.” I run my hand through my hair. “Willa was more than likely kidnapped by the same person or group that has been monitoring Celia.”
Salvatore nods his head. “What did you learn about Willa’s sister?”
Antonio and I shift forward in our seats, wanting to know as much about our obsession as possible. “Finally, the good stuff,” Antonio mumbles, causing me to laugh softly.
“Celia Hutton. Nineteen years old.”
“Fuck, she isn’t even old enough to drink.” Antonio runs a hand through his hair, leaning back in his seat.
“And that matters… why?” My eyebrows raise in question as I turn my attention toward Antonio.
I’d be lying if I said our age difference wasn’t concerning. She’s barely old enough to vote and has a bright future ahead of her. The last thing she needs is to get mixed up with the three of us any more than she already has. But now that we’ve claimed her as our own, there’s no going back.
“It doesn’t. It’s just interesting.” Antonio pauses for a moment before a mischievous smirk crosses his face. “You know we are all old enough to be her father. I wonder if we can convince her to call Salvatoredaddy.” Antonio winks at Salvatore, and I barely manage to cover my laugh with a cough.
Salvatore’s entire body stiffens as his eyes pull down in thought. My gaze flicks down to his groin before locking eyes with him. He raises his eyebrow in question, daring me to say anything about his reaction. Unable to control himself, his hand grips his cock through his pants, no doubt searching for relief that we all know isn’t coming. Not without Celia.
My cock hardens behind my zipper at my friend’s distress. Images of Celia on her knees begging Daddy to let her come filter through my mind. I should be fucking ashamed of myself for having such a visceral reaction to just a name, but I can’t bring myself to give a shit. It seems that neither of us is taken aback at the thought of her calling him daddy.
“It seems everyone is in agreement. We need to make this happen.” Antonio shows no shame as he palms his cock through his pants, a low groan escaping his lips.
“Can we get back to business, please?” Salvatore groans, pinning both of us in place with a stare as Antonio raises his hands in surrender.
Once he’s sure Antonio isn’t going to continue his nonsense, he continues. “Sorry for the interruption, Gabriel. Please continue.”