27. Claudia

Chapter 27

Claudia

W e sleep together that night. There's no sex, only two bodies in the darkness, his warmth and his smell. His lips on my neck, his breath on my skin. He's still there when I wake up, and maybe I'm still emotional from the night before, but I can't help myself.

I kiss him and stroke his dick, and I'm not surprised to find he's already half-hard. He groans, coming awake, and he wraps me in a kiss, dragging me on top of him.

We have sex in the early morning light. I ride him slowly at first, luxuriating in the feel of him between my legs, his hands all over my breasts, his mouth on my skin, his adoring eyes drinking me in. Then I ride him faster, and faster, until I come like my spine's going to break into crumbly pieces, but he's not finished with me. He's gentle at first, until it feels like I'm going to explode again, then he's filling me with hard, deep strokes, and we both orgasm in a beautiful, sweaty mess.

He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight against him. "Good morning to you too," he whispers.

I laugh as all the tension escapes me. "I guess I couldn't help myself."

"I'm not complaining. I can't picture a better way to start the day."

I chew on my lip. "Sorry about last night."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"That guy?—"

He stops me and adjusts himself so he's looking into my eyes. "You don't have to tell me. You don't owe me that."

"I know, but I want to." I lean forward, kiss him softly, and tell him the story of Uncle Rodney.

How my parents were both dead and Rodney was the only family we had in the area. He took in two scared, sad little girls, and he took care of them. Even though he never wanted kids and wasn't equipped to be a caretaker, much less a father and a role model, he did it anyway. He stepped up, for a while at least.

Then the abuse started. The verbal insults, the anger, the drinking. I allude to what Serena told me, but I don't outright say it—that's her trauma to share or hide, and she gets to choose who finds out about it. But I make sure Angelo understands what Rodney is.

"You never should've gone through that," he says. "I wish I had done more than just hit the piece of shit."

"The sickest part is I've been giving Rodney money for the last couple years. I feel like I owe him, you know? I mean, he was awful, but he still put food on the table and clothes on our backs and made sure we got to school."

"Just because he did the bare minimum doesn't mean he deserves your pity or whatever the fuck you feel. That guy's a piece of shit."

"I sort of told him who you are." I give Angelo a sheepish smile. "I used your name and told him you'd kill him if he ever came back. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, but?—"

He holds up a hand and kisses me. "Baby, feel free to threaten anyone with my name any time you like. And I really will kill him if he comes back."

I hesitate, not sure if he's joking, but Angelo's eyes are cold iron and he's not smiling. "I'm not sure?—"

"You won't know about it. His body won't ever be found. But I'll make sure he goes away."

My heart beats faster and sweat prickles down my back. "Sometimes I forget who you are. What your family is. When we're in bed like this—" I stop talking, feeling stupid.

But his smile comes back and his sleepy kisses are like heaven. "I don't want you thinking about that when we're together. I want you feeling good when I'm in your bed."

"So far you're doing an admirable job." I push him away and climb out of bed. I like the way he stares at me as I pull on clothes. "But I'm still mad at you."

He groans and looks at the ceiling. "This again?"

"This again," I confirm, hands on my hips. "Tell me I'm allowed to make my own choices."

"Claudia—"

"I'm serious. I like being with you. Whatever's going on here—" I gesture between us. "It could be a good thing. But not if you're going to turn into a controlling prick."

I don't add that I had a controlling prick in my life already and his name is Rodney. That would be going too far, but it's true.

"I just want you to be safe," he says, and he must not like the look on my face, because he puts his hands up in surrender. "Fine, baby, you're a pain in the fucking ass for such a small girl, but fine, you win. I'll be there every single night you're working though."

"You already are." I give him a sickly-sweet smile. "You're a peach, darling."

"And you're a monster." He kicks the sheets off and gets up. I stare down at his semi-hard dick and his muscular abs and his defined chest, and now I'm the one that's doing the admiring. "Now, I need a favor from you."

"A favor?" He walks past me and into the kitchen. I follow after, feeling nervous. "What kind of favor?"

"Since you're being stubborn, I need you to talk to my brother." He opens cabinets and starts making coffee.

"Your brother. As in, the Don of the Bianco Famiglia?"

"His name's Simon and you don't have to be intimidated." He frowns into the refrigerator once the coffee machine's burbling. "I'm going to stock this damn thing. Actually, I'm going to buy you all new appliances, renovate this place?—"

"Stop it. Why am I going to talk to your brother?"

"I need you to tell him what you know about Tommy." He puts a pan on the stove and starts making eggs. "Simon's going to be annoyed when he finds out that I've been causing trouble, but once he understands how things are, he'll do the right thing."

"Which is what?"

"Give me permission to kill everyone involved with Cage." He says it so casually like it's no big deal. Except he's talking about murder. Multiple murders. Lots and lots of murders. "Coming from me, he might think I'm just reading into the situation. Which is why I need you to confirm everything."

"Why wouldn't your brother just believe you?"

"Tommy and I have history together. Simon thinks I'm on a suicidal revenge rampage."

I walk over to the coffee pot and pour myself a mug. "Which you are."

"Yes, which I am, but I'm still right." He turns to me and grabs me by the waist. I yelp as he pulls me against him. "Come talk to my brother. If you're good, I'll show you my house."

I let out a little laugh. "Is that some kind of incentive?"

"Yes, baby. I have a very large bed and an even larger appetite."

"You're so cheesy sometimes."

"You like it." His hand squeezes my ass and I wriggle against him. "Do me this favor. It'll help, I promise."

"I'll come talk to your brother." I slip out of his grip. "But I'll pass on the house tour."

"You say that now." He waves the spatula at me. "But it's only because you've been thoroughly satisfied not too long ago. You'll change your mind."

I stand in the doorway to the kitchen and glare at the big, shirtless beast cooking eggs at my stove. "I was definitely something this morning, but I wouldn't use the word ‘satisfied,' you dick."

"Your screams suggest otherwise."

"That was me begging for mercy. I was praying for it to be over as fast as possible. You're just mistaken."

His expression darkens. "Are you trying to tease me?"

"I'm trying to shrink that swollen ego of yours."

"Bad idea. You're only giving me ideas."

I shake my head and turn away. "I'm showering. And I'm locking the door, so don't come bother me."

"Locks can't stop me from pleasuring you, baby," he calls as I head into the bathroom.

I grin to myself and leave the door open a crack. He's right—the lock would be worthless anyway.

I'm nervous on the drive over to his brother's place. We're in the back of a black sedan and a couple of very serious-looking men are up front. We swing by Cage first so the guy in the passenger seat can bring Angelo's truck home.

"Our block is called the oasis," he says quietly as we drive to a nice part of the city.

"What do you mean, your block ?"

"We own every house on the oasis. Each member of the core Bianco family has one, and the rest are for other various uses, like guest houses, a gym, an office, shit like that."

"I'm sorry, your family owns an entire city block, and you turned a whole-ass house… into a gym?"

He's trying not to smile. "It's a nice gym."

"Jesus Christ," I say softly and try not to laugh out of sheer awkwardness. "I knew you were rich, but?—"

"The oasis is a necessity," he says and glances at the man driving the car before looking back at me. "My family is always in danger. We had to carve a space for ourselves, a place where we can be sure that we're safe no matter what. Yes, we have comfort, and we have money, but we have all these things because we have no choice."

"Poor guy. I feel so sorry for you."

He sighs and I can tell the driver's trying not to laugh.

"I'm just trying to warn you. Everyone in the oasis is a member of the Famiglia and they're loyal to my family. You'll be safe, and you don't have to worry if you see a bunch of guys walking around with guns."

I try not to show my discomfort. "Sure, that sounds totally reasonable. An entire city block swarming with heavily armed men. Not strange at all."

"Glad you understand."

I really don't, but it doesn't matter. We come from totally different worlds, and I've been fooling myself lately into thinking that Angelo's just like all the other men at Cage. Maybe he's got a wealthy and well-connected family, but that doesn't make him different from anyone else.

Except his family is city block wealthy and they have a horde of heavily armed men wandering around their house like it's no big deal.

I'm in a daze when we're dropped off in front of a beautiful three-story Victorian. Angelo explains that this is his brother's office, which is absolutely bizarre—it's bigger than any house I've ever lived in, much less actually seen in this city. The interior is opulent, expensively furnished in a way that's overwhelming. Marble floors, antique paintings and statues decorating plinths that look ancient. There's a Greco-Roman thing going on with lots of draped velvet and gorgeous plants, and everything's meticulously cared for. I find it hard to believe anyone works in this place. It feels like a museum.

"Be yourself," Angelo says as he leads me down a hallway. We pass several quiet men standing silently off to the side in all black with little earpieces like they're the freaking Secret Service. "Simon's a reasonable person."

I hold onto Angelo's arm. My fingers dig into his muscle. "I think I'm going to pass out."

He stops walking and steadies me. "Claudia?"

"No, I'm fine." I blink a few times and take deep breaths. "I'm sorry, I'm just really overwhelmed right now."

He looks worried. That's probably not a good thing. "Listen to me. Just breathe, okay? I get it, this place is a little bit much. It's meant to make you feel exactly the way you're feeling right now, like we're rich and powerful and you're a puny little insect."

"I wasn't feeling like an insect, but oh my god—" I can picture a big, fancy boot stomping on my head. And yep, there it is.

Angelo hugs me against him. "You'll be fine . Simon's just a guy. Hell, he's my brother. I grew up with the asshole. I saw him eat a worm one time on a dare. He's just a guy."

I suck in breaths through my nose. "Just a guy," I echo. "A very rich, very dangerous?—"

"Just a worm-eating guy." He kisses my cheek. "You got this."

I nod and follow him to an ornately carved door at the end of the hall, and I most definitely don't got this.