Chapter 24

24

Zara

I ’m falling in love with my husband, a murderous mobster.

I think I’d love Creed just for giving Eugene a job if for nothing else. It would be an understatement to say I was surprised when the teenager showed up at the penthouse with a bouquet for me from my husband.

Eugene told me Creed gave him ten thousand dollars with no strings attached and a job the Thursday night I sent him to the store. While I know the ‘work’ Creed will have Eugene doing for him may not always be legal, at least the boy will have someone to watch his back and bail him out of trouble if he needs.

Now that I also know where Creed is spending his days, it’s impossible not to want him so much, it hurts.

There’s no way I could ever repay him for what he’s trying to do. He’s not just risking his life to get Oriana back to me. He’s risking everything .

There’s nothing I can offer him for such a gigantic favor but my body. I’d offer it up on a silver platter for him to do whatever he damn well wants with it every night, but he hasn’t touched me since the night in his office.

Even if he can’t pull this off, I won’t be upset or disappointed with him. Creed has been kinder to me than anyone ever has been before.

Maybe it’s stupid, but I actually believe he will succeed in this impossible task, despite the odds. Creed Ferraro doesn’t seem like the type of man who doesn’t back up his talk.

After all, he’s the king of kings. The other mafia bosses answer to him and fear him and his family.

That afternoon, when he walks into the penthouse hours earlier than usual, I get my hopes up.

As if he can see the hope written on my face, he says, “Sorry, micetta mia . There’s not been any sign of her at the apartments on Union Avenue either.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I hate that you’re spending so much time out there alone.” I keep offering to go and sit with him, but he refuses without an explanation. So, I’ve just been sitting around the penthouse waiting. “I wish I knew where they keep her. Whenever I do get to see her, it’s at Central Park or one of the playgrounds in Brooklyn. They never invite me over to the house. I’ve never seen her bedroom or read her a story before bedtime. I’ve never had a chance to tuck her in.”

“You will,” Creed promises as he takes a seat on the sofa and grabs my arm, pulling me onto his lap. “I won’t give up searching for her. It could take weeks to find her or maybe even months.”

“I’ve waited years,” I remind him. “I can wait however long it takes. Being able to raise her on my own…it’s not something I ever thought would be possible. ”

“I’m going to make it possible,” he says. “But tonight, how about a little distraction?”

“A distraction?”

“I know you must be bored, sitting around here all day.”

“Only a little,” I lie with a smile.

“Well, tonight, I’m taking you out.”

“Out? Out where?”

“I chose some dresses and several pairs of shoes for you. They’re being brought up right now in case you wanted to change...”

“You picked out clothes for me?” I say in surprise. “What about the ones from a few weeks ago?”

“I had a little help from the stylists.”

“Thank you.” I give him a quick kiss on the cheek to show my appreciation, wishing he’d accept more.

“You’re welcome. Now, go get ready. I’ll be waiting for you here in, say, half an hour?”

“Sure,” I agree, since I’ve never been the type to take hours getting ready. What you see is pretty much what you get with me.

Thirty minutes later, I’m dressed in the most gorgeous long golden gown with draping neckline that I’ve ever seen. It matches my strappy heels. My hair is down and natural, flowing over my shoulders. I feel pretty damn good about myself for the first time in years. That is, until I step into the living room where Creed is waiting in a pristine black suit, and he frowns at me.

“What?” I ask him.

“You look stunning, but I think you look even better in my jacket.”

“I love long dresses. They hide all the…imperfections, the baby weight I still haven’t lost in three years... ”

“I love every inch of you, micetta mia .”

Love. I know I’m probably reading way too much into that simple statement because it’s how I’m starting to feel about Creed. It’s crazy and doesn’t make sense after only knowing him for such a short time, but there’s been something drawing me to the don from the moment we met. Part of me thinks he may even feel the same.

“Where are we going?” I ask, forcing myself to push aside those ridiculous thoughts.

“To the stairs.”

“The stairs?”

“I should’ve mentioned that we’re staying in the penthouse.”

“Oh.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says.

“No, of course not. I’m just glad to spend an evening with you for once.”

We take the narrower stairs next to the elevator up to the building’s rooftop.

It’s not just a flat, mundane rooftop either. The sun is setting in the sky, making the city glow around us. There’s a cozy sitting area and tiny lights draped along the lattice work overtop to provide a soft, romantic vibe. And food, lots and lots of food spread out on a long table.

“We can’t eat all of that,” I tell Creed.

“Sure, we can.” He slips his arm around me, and his fingers tease the bare skin along my upper back. “So? What do you think? Slightly better than staying in and watching old shows?”

“It’s...stunning,” I admit. “You didn’t have to do all this or have someone else do it, but it’s sweet.”

“You deserve to have a life like this, one with peace and freedom. And I want to be the one to give you those things.”

“Thank you.” I turn and cup his face in my palms. Rising to my toes, I place a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you for this, and for trying to find Oriana.”

“Oh, I will get her back to you.”

Smiling at his bravado, I add, “I should also thank you for protecting me that night at the club when the bullets started flying and for what you did to Izaiah. If you hadn’t shown up, he would’ve either killed me or I would’ve spent the rest of my life indebted to that family, missing my heart and soul and knowing there wasn’t a single thing I could do to change anything. But you...with one impulsive decision, you changed everything for me while risking everything for yourself.”

“No matter what happens, I’ll never regret stopping him. Izaiah got what he deserved.”

I nod my head because those are not the worrisome thoughts that have been consuming me during the days Creed is out. I have zero regrets about Izaiah’s death.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, poking my bottom lip with his fingertip, so I stop biting it.

“I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking...”

“Never a good thing but do go on.” He grins.

“I’ve just been thinking that I’ve never been a mother to Oriana before, not a real one. What if...what if I’m horrible at it, like my parents were? What if Emilio was right to take her from me because I’m not cut out to raise her?”

“You are going to be an amazing mother.” Creed grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I know because I can feel how much you love your daughter. That’s all that matters. That’s all that it takes to be a good mother. Even if you make a few bad decisions along the way, like my own mother did, it doesn’t make you a bad parent. Not if you make those decisions to try and do what’s best for your daughter.”

“Your mom must have loved you and your brother fiercely to risk her life to try and give you a safer one away from your father. ”

“She must have. The day my father killed her in front of us was the day I started hating him. He loved her, but he cared more about his fucking pride than he did about letting her live her life in peace.”

“I’m sorry he killed her and you had to grow up without a mother. You know she would be proud of the man you are today, don’t you?”

“Since I followed in his footsteps and became the don, I highly doubt that.”

“You wouldn’t kill anyone just for your pride, only those who deserve to die. Was your father like Emilio?”

“Yes. They were best friends,” he admits.

“Maybe if your father had lived by the same code as you, your mother would’ve respected him and not left him.”

“I’ve never actually considered that before, if I’m a better man than my father was or not. It never felt that way to me, since I picked things up right where he left off.”

“I didn’t know him, but I know you. You protect the people you care about. There’s nothing wrong with that,” I say. “I would do the same. That’s why I can’t help but worry that the Rovinas have filled Oriana’s head with bullshit about why I’m hardly ever around, making her think I don’t...that I don’t want to be with her, when nothing could be further from the truth.”

“I know, micetta mia .” Creed swipes away one of the tears on my cheeks with his thumb.

“You know that I still don’t have a clue what micetta mia means. It’s not like I’ve been allowed near a phone or computer to look it up. I guess I could ask someone…”

Smiling down at me, he says, “It means my...pussycat.”

“Your pussycat?” I repeat, followed by a gasp of understanding. “You mean your pussy, don’t you?”

“Maybe at first that’s how I saw you, wanting every inch of you to be mine, especially that part of your body. But you were also pretty damn cute and feisty like a feral kitten from the moment we met.”

“You mean I was weak and powerless?”

Lifting my right hand, he places it on his cheek. “You are neither of those things. You’re not weak or powerless. I told you what you are — you’re dangerous. All I’ve wanted since the second you crooked your finger at me, like I was already yours to command, is your claws carving into my skin. Only my skin.”

Shaking my head, I mutter, “ Your pussy. You’re such a dick.”

“ Your dick,” he replies with a grin to match my own.

“Right,” I agree as I slide my palm down his face, over the suit fabric and dress shirt covering his chest and stomach, and stopping when I palm his erection through his soft pants. “I think it’s finally time for me to meet this dick of mine, husband.”

Creed closes his eyes and makes a sound between a grunt and a growl as he covers my hand with his much bigger one. “Zara…I didn’t bring you up here because I expected anything tonight.”

“I know.” I press my palm against his chest, walking him backward until we reach the patio sofa. “Sit down. Let me thank you properly for everything, but especially for all the time you have spent on your knees for me.”

Slowly, Creed lowers himself down onto the cushions.

I lift the skirt of my dress as I kneel in front of him. When I reach to undo the front of his pants, he whispers, “I don’t deserve any pleasure.”

“Yes, you do.”

I unzip and tug his pants and boxer briefs down far enough to free his long, thick erection.

“Fuckin’ A, you’re big,” I say as I wrap my fingers around his shaft as much as I can to stroke him, making him get even harder in my fist.

With a puff of laughter, Creed slips his fingers into the side of my hair, not urging my mouth lower but giving me a sweet caress .

I place a soft kiss to his blunt head while glancing up at his face, holding his gaze. “Is this how you became the boss of bosses, capo dei capi? Because you have the biggest dick?”

“Something like that,” he replies, but his smile doesn’t reach his dark, hungry, blue eyes. This man is horny as hell and has been for weeks.

More than ready to finally put him out of his misery, I part my lips and lean forward, letting his length slide along my tongue and fill my mouth so damn good.

“God, yes,” Creed groans. His fingers tighten in my hair as I take him to the back of my throat and suck.

Already I can taste just how excited he is from my mouth. This man who doesn’t think he deserves any pleasure is so close to giving in to it.

My gag reflex is long gone, so I don’t take it easy on him. I bob my head faster and suck him harder, wanting to see Creed lose control.

“ Fuck! ” With a roar, he finally loses it.

Both of his hands cup the sides of my head as he thrust his hips up, shoving himself deeper. His eyes are near feral as he watches my nose ram into his pelvis over and over again.

I love how good it feels to be the one who causes him to let go, who gets to taste his beautiful cock when it swells and erupts down my throat, to hear his shout of ecstasy and claim it as my own prize.

My husband may be a murderous mobster, but that won’t ever stop me from wanting to worship him.