Chapter 26

26

"Good Evening, boss," Rhodes greets me as I enter the 708 club on Friday night.

It's been a few weeks since I've been to one of the poker games, and I'm pleased to see that attendance is up tonight. I've had Rocco or Dallas managing them lately, finding myself preoccupied with the one person who can bring me to my knees. The meeting with Volkov was finalized this morning- we'll head to New York a week from now- which means Belluci has to be handled this week.

Rocco and I head straight to my office where tonight, I'm hosting a special game with key players who will be helping me serve Belluci his retribution in spades.

The bar's been fully stocked, and bottles of top-shelf liquors and plenty of lowball glasses are set out on the glossy counter. One of the solid wood poker tables has been moved in here along with a set of cards and chips, and Rhodes is on strict orders to ensure that no one outside of my guest list makes it into this room tonight.

My old man is the first to arrive, which is perfect because I'm entrusting him with the most important part of the plan- protecting Wren.

"Boys," he calls out, coming straight to the bar where I'm pouring drinks. "I'll take one of those."

Grabbing another glass, I add two fingers of whiskey to it and slide it across the bar. Picking it up, he takes a generous sip before setting it down and turning toward Rocco beside him. "How's Isa?"

"She's glad that she left when she did. Her grandma passed that night. She's gonna stay out there a while longer, help with the funeral arrangements," Rocco answers.

"If you or her need anything, you let me know," my dad offers, patting him on the back.

"Thanks, Uncle."

Swiveling back to face me, Dad asks, "How 'bout you, Bowie. How's the wife?"

"Don't have one," I scoff, throwing back my glass, the ripple of heat it offers quelling the smile that tugs at my lips. The thought of marrying Wren has already crossed my mind at least a dozen times since she said she loved me, but the old man doesn't need to know he's right all the time.

He runs his hand through his hair, pinning me with an obstinate look. "She should be, she's carrying your child."

I heave a sigh. "I'm aware, but I'm not going to rush her, we've only been together a short time."

"Didn't stop you from acting on the other requirements to keep your title," he remarks, swirling the liquor in his glass.

Rocco chokes on his drink and I slam my glass down hard enough on the counter that it's a goddamn miracle it doesn't shatter.

"Let me make myself very clear," I growl. "The bullshit hoops you wanted me to jump through to keep my title, were nothing more than that- bullshit. I wasn't trying for any of this, but I'm sure fucking glad it happened. I love her and I'm excited about having a wife and kid for once in my life, because it happened with Wren. So either keep those shit comments to yourself or I'll make sure you swallow your tongue. I won't let you ever make Wren feel like she's nothing more than a means to secure my title."

"Easy, Bowie," he chuckles, lifting his hands in surrender. "I was pushing your buttons on purpose."

Unimpressed with his response, I arch a brow, waiting to hear why he's grinding my gears tonight of all nights.

"The way she came about, the timing and everything…" he waves a hand. "I needed to hear that you're with her for the right reasons and not you just knocking up a girl fourteen years younger than you to meet my demands." He swallows back the rest of his drink, continuing. "Believe it or not Bowie, I want you to have the same love your mom and I share."

His methods lack decorum, but I've known my father long enough to understand that in his own twisted way, he's coming from a place of love.

"Good, because I need an extra favor from you."

"Go on."

"While Rocco and I are in New York, I want Wren to stay with you and Ma. Dallas will be keeping the outfit running, including the poker game, and with Isa out of town, I don't want her by herself. Especially after what's about to come."

He nods in understanding. "She's welcome any time."

"Make her feel that way, then. After dinner the other night, she felt like you didn't like her."

"That's preposterous, I have nothing against her. But I've been meaning to ask…" he pauses to clear his throat. "Have you tried looking into her family at all?"

"There's nothing. O'Ryan pulled her CPS file and as she said, she was found outside the police station in the 21st with nothing to identify her. No one reported her missing, so she went into the system."

His platinum rings catch the light as he strokes his chin, lips pressed into a thin line. "I have a theory-"

A knock on the door interrupts him, and I shout for whoever it is to come in. It opens, and Aldo Ricci and his two soldiers, Dominic and Cade, enter.

"We'll talk more later," my father mumbles, pushing off from his stool to shake Aldo's hand.

Dominic and Cade have been working twice as hard, never shying away from an assignment since their buddy Adam met his end. In fact, it's the warehouse of Belluci's they found my drugs in that's the target this week.

Getting everyone a glass, we take our seats at the poker table. I open up the silver case that sits in the middle, peeling the cellophane off the brand-new deck of cards so everyone knows it's a fair game. Rocco collects the buy-ins and is dishing out the chips when another knock raps against the door.

"Sorry about that, Boss," Leo rushes out as he shuts the door behind him. "There was an accident on the Kennedy and traffic was a mess."

"We're just getting started," I say, then tip my chin to the bar. "Pour yourself a drink and pay up to Rocco."

Leo does just that, taking the vacant seat between my father and Cade as I start to shuffle the deck. After rifling through the cards six times, my old man cuts the deck and slides them in front of Rocco. He starts to deal out the cards once everyone has added their chips to the middle. The game starts, and I'm ready to get to business.

"Gentleman, I'm glad you all could join me tonight." I up my bet, sliding another chip into the center as I glance around the table. "While the game is real, there are other reasons I called you here."

Aldo's eyes ping to my old man, then to Rocco, while Dominic and Cade share a look. Clocking their reactions, I'm quick to tamp down the foreboding feelings those words seem to have sparked. "Each of you brings something to the organization that is valuable, and tonight, I'm asking to exploit those assets."

Leo raises the pool and Cade folds, sliding his cards back to Rocco as he deals another round to the rest of us.

Through the next rounds, I explain what's been happening with our shipments, bringing to light Adams's shortcomings to Aldo, and by the way his head bobs, it seems he finally understands why I took him out. Then I detail how we found the drugs' packaging over at the warehouse off Aberdeen. I gloss over the details of Adrian's murder for Leo's sake, and pepper in all the details of Dallas' car crash with the special delivery.

My old man lays down three queens and two sixes, beating us all out until Dominic throws out four aces, trumping his full house and raking in the pot.

"Belluci has chosen to live by the same disgusting morals as his father. And this week, we will show him exactly what that has earned him," I say, taking the freshly shuffled cards from Aldo.

Everyone antes up, and I deal the next hand as I outline my plan. "Aldo, we will need three of your vans. Leo has something to install that'll scramble the built-in GPS's and keep the trail clean. One van you won't be getting back, though."

"I've got one that needs repairs, you can destroy it and I'll file an insurance claim," Aldo offers, adding more chips to the pile.

"Good." I deal another round. "Dominic and Cade, you'll keep an eye on that warehouse. The moment it's unattended, you'll park the van and pop the hood. Leo will come by in another one and pick you up."

Rocco and Dominic fold. My father ups the bet; Cade calls his bluff. My father lays out a straight flush and Cade throws his cards in the center. Dominic gathers the cards to shuffle and Aldo turns to me, arching an inquisitive brow. "What about the third van?"

Pushing up to stand, I stride over to the bar, fill my glass with whiskey, and lean against the counter. "That one is the most important. The fire at the warehouse will call out his soldiers, leaving a house a few blocks away unguarded. Leo and the boys will meet you there, and you will load up all the girls you find and take them straight to Nicky's bar."

"What if there aren't any girls there?" Aldo asks.

"If we could only be so lucky." I swallow back my whiskey and return to the table for this hand.

The game goes on, Rocco winning the next hand while the guys ask about the specifics of the plan. Especially what we'll do with the girls afterward. I don't like involving my sister in this, but if these girls have faced even a fraction of the trauma I think they have, then a female face will do better than any of my men. She'll help us get the girls back to where they belong- or, if their families sold them, we'll help them get a new start.

While Nicky is stubborn and strong-willed, she's also a bleeding heart. I'll give my old man credit there, too; he never kept her sheltered. She may not have been privy to all the things that Rocco or I were, but she's not blind to it either.

Aldo finally wins the last hand before we all just sit back and shoot the shit while killing another bottle of whiskey.

I'm practically giddy as I'm driving home at the end of the evening. Finally getting to put the drugs to rest and Belluci in his place gives me a strange sense of excitement for the week. The only thing that brings me down a notch is being away from Wren. Even if it's just for a day or two, I don't like the thought of not being near her.

Cazzo, am I pussy-whipped?

"Where's Dallas and Drea?" I ask, stepping through the door of the penthouse and finding Wren curled up in the corner of the couch reading.

She snorts a laugh, setting her book down in her lap. "I sent them down to Dallas'. They couldn't keep their hands off each other and I wasn't in the mood to watch them fuck on the armchair."

The muscle in my jaw ticks tighter and my hands curl into fists at my sides.

"Stop that right now," Wren tuts, tipping her head to the table. "I wasn't completely defenseless."

My eyes follow her gesture to the coffee table, and I mutter a strained curse as I march toward where the Glock lays. Either she's a trained assassin and I didn't know it, or she's figured out how to manipulate Dallas. Going with the latter, I hitch up my slacks, sitting beside the gun on the glass to make sure the safety is still on.

"Bowie, I love the way you're so protective of me, and as much as I like spending time with Drea and Dallas… sometimes it's nice to have some time for just me, ya know?"

I heave a sigh, motioning to the gun. "Do you even know how to use it?"

She shrugs. "Safety off, point and shoot?"

Stifling my laugh, I drag a hand down my face. She's not wrong, and if someone managed to get up here, she'd do well enough to bide time or get lucky and kill them. Wren is far too independent for me to expect her to always be under someone's thumb. Though I still don't like that Dallas left her here on her own.

"How about I teach you to shoot properly when I'm back from New York, and Dallas can just be on call unless you need him?"

"Really?" She claps her hands together in excitement. "Please!"

I nod, and her baby blues shimmer with excitement, her blonde locks tied up in a lopsided bun and her oversized t-shirt of mine hanging off one shoulder. She's a goddamn vision without even trying- how could I ever say no to her?

"Thank you!" Wren jerks forward, knocking her phone and book to the ground as she cradles my face in her hands and crashes her lips against mine.

Deepening the kiss, I tease her tongue with mine, making her moan against my mouth. Her lips are puffy when we finally come up for air, making my cock strain against the fabric of my slacks.

I bend at the waist, picking up her stuff from the floor and handing it back to her. "Whatcha reading about?"

A blush creeps across her cheeks as she takes them. "A badass female mafia leader and her multiple lovers."

My brows slam down, plucking the book from her grip. "You need more lovers to be satisfied, Passerotta?"

"Bowie," she snickers. "It's just a story! Don't tell me you're jealous of fictional characters!"

I set the book on the table beside me, eyeing her dubiously. "Should I be?"

Tossing the throw blanket off her lap and kicking her feet out, she pops up to stand between my legs. Even with me sitting, I'm still taller than her, and it's damn cute to see her placing her hands on her hips with unwavering confidence. She may be five-three, but her attitude rivals six foot. Her eyes narrow and the side of her mouth curves up in a titillating smile. "Maybe you should remind me why you'll always be enough for me."

A devious chuckle rumbles in my chest. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she taunts, pivoting on her heels and striding toward the hall. Her fingers curl beneath the hem of her shirt, tugging it off overhead and dropping it on the floor, giving me a perfect view of her plump ass.

Cazzo.

I push up from the table, standing at my full height, then stalk towards her as I undo my belt. "I think tonight's the night I own that ass, Passerotta."

Wren squeals, running off towards the bedroom as I follow, shedding my clothes quicker than if they were on fire. When I step into the bedroom, she's lying in the center of the bed, lithe fingers circling her center.

My dick twitches, eager to sink into her glistening cunt. I stride toward the nightstand, pulling the bottle of lube from it and setting it on top. Fisting my aching cock, I kneel on the bed between her legs and watch the way her eyes widen with hunger as they track my hand rolling over the barbells on my shaft. It's a fucking ego boost that only makes me harder.

I grab her hand, bringing it to my mouth to suck her juices from her fingers. I swear in all my years, I've never tasted a pussy as sweet as hers.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll have no problem remembering I'm enough."

Her throat bobs with a swallow, fingers scrabbling at my biceps as she tries to pull me closer.

Dropping to an elbow, I hover over her, dragging my cock between her folds and bumping her clit just to hear her sweet little mewls of pleasure. Lining my tip up at her entrance, I bracket her head and shove inside. She winces slightly, jaw hinging open in a silent moan as I start to move between her thighs.

My eyes drop to where our bodies connect. I'll never get tired of seeing the way her greedy cunt swallows my cock. In fact, something about the sight makes me absolutely feral. I draw back, punching forward so hard her eyes squeeze shut and nails dig into my arms, causing blood to trickle down the back of one.

Each harsh snap of my hips coaxes another moan from those luscious lips as I drill her into the mattress.

"Fuck! Bowie!" she cries out, chin quivering in desperation.

I never let up, rutting into her harder and harder with each thrust until I feel her inner walls start to spasm.

My tongue traces her collarbone, sucking on her earlobe and dragging my teeth across it as I move a hand to her clit. My motions are quick, and her moans of pleasure are only getting louder as I work her over the edge of her orgasm.

She's a panting, sweaty mess as I rock back on my heels, and the sight of her body quaking in the aftershocks of pleasure almost makes me come. Almost.

Grabbing her by the ankles, I flip her to her belly as I help push her up onto her knees. I place my knees on either side of hers, helping support her as she collapses forward. Her breasts press into the mattress as her ass stays high in the air, and I lean forward to grab the lube.

Wren flinches as the lube drizzles down onto her skin, and I watch with rapt fascination as she puckers when I spread it between her cheeks.

"Relax, Passerotta," I coo, slowly working a finger inside her back hole.

She groans as I add another. I've been incorporating more ass-play lately to get her used to the idea, because as far as my sexual tastes spread, being a sadist and causing her pain isn't on the menu of things I want to inflict.

I scissor my fingers as I pump them in and out of her tight hole until I think she's ready. Drizzling more lube over her ass and down my shaft, I press my cockhead against the tight ring of muscle, massaging her cheeks as I nudge inside.

Fisting the sheets, she whimpers and I pause. My hand reaches up, stroking her hair as I whisper, "You're doing so good, baby. Do you want me to stop?"

"No." Her body shudders with a breath. "Fuck my ass, Bowie."

I keep easing in, praising her with every inch as she pants below me. When I'm fully seated, I still and let her adjust to the feeling. She's so fucking tight, it's almost painful to keep from thrusting into her.

Moving in languid strokes, the tension starts to melt from her body and delicious sounds of pleasure fall from her lips. I'm already close, it took everything I had not to blow my load inside her sweet cunt, but the way her tight hole is clutching me now makes it fucking worth it.

I snake a hand around the front of her body, strumming on her clit as she finds herself on the precipice of another orgasm. She goes careening over the edge, screaming my name in rapture, muscles clamping down like a vise grip and making my balls tighten as I find my release.

When my own breathing slows, I ease out of her, rolling to the side. Pulling her flush against my chest, I blanket her body with mine and place a kiss on her cheek, murmuring in her ear.

"Such a good girl."