Chapter Eleven

My sister bursts through my office door as if there's no security in my damn club. Luckily the club doesn't open for three more hours because I'd have to bust some heads. "Gracie, to what do I owe this unexpected surprise?" I ask, snarling at Gabriele, who holds the door open for her while standing back and refusing to look at me. Pussy.

She pops into the seat in front of my desk and interlaces her fingers, her usual bubbly demeanor a bit shaken and a cloud of darkness around her. "We need to talk."

"That sounds ominous, Hummingbird. Is this about a man?" A growl comes from the door. "You can close it, Gabe," I say, getting a scowl from him before he shuts the door behind him, leaving my sister and me alone. I do love the torture I'm putting him, through.

She bites her lip and sighs. "No, it's about Stella."

"What about Stella?" My temper rises. I haven't forgotten about her upcoming marriage; I was trying to find out who she is marrying, but the damn explosion from last night got in the way. The damn inspector is already on my ass with calls. I met with him, only for him to drill me with inane questions that could have been asked over the phone. He had nothing new to provide and only wanted to waste my time.

She stands up, and then sits back down. "I'm afraid that she'll kill herself if she marries Tommy Baker."

"What the fuck do you mean Tommy Baker?" I bellow. My sister jumps back like I was going to harm her, falling backward out of her chair. Her eyes are wide as I rush around and help her up off the floor. "I'm so sorry, Gracie. You know I'd never hurt you, Hummingbird."

"It's just…I've never seen that look in your eyes before. Well, at least directed at me."

"I'm sorry. It's not directed at you," I snarl, clenching my teeth.

"The proverbial ‘don't kill the messenger'?" she eeks out, rubbing her elbow.

I cup her chin. "Never, dearest. Run along. I promise she won't be marrying that slime. In fact, if everything goes well, you will be getting a sister, but you must keep it to yourself."

That softens the brutal fear I put in her for the first time. "Of course. I'm a Valentino. Everything is a secret, Brother. I love you."

I kiss the top of her head and then add, "Love you, too, Hummingbird. Now, have Gabriele escort you out, and then tell him to see me immediately."

She walks to the door and says, "Oh, by the way—I let her sleep in your bed."

"You did?"

She nods with a smile and flits away, a lightness in her step that had been missing when she entered my office. Was she truly scared to tell me, or scared for Stella?

I stand and walk straight to the built-in bar against the right wall where I keep my top-shelf booze, pouring myself a glass of whiskey and shooting it down. It goes down smoothly, so I chase it down with a second. Setting my glass on the wooden top, I walk away before the whole bottle is polished off.

My feet move without me realizing it, sending me pacing back and forth, murderous thoughts racing through my head.

Tommy Baker? That's who the fuck she's marrying? That fucking sick old bastard? The fucking loser who borrowed a million dollars from me last month? Is this why he asked for the money? My angel. That would never happen. I'll kill that bastard.

A rapid knock on my door before someone enters startles me, and I whip out my gun to find Gabriele staring at me. "Whoa, whoa. Chill."

I tuck my gun back in and then run my hand through my disheveled hair. "What the fuck? Why are you just bursting through the door?"

He throws his hands up and closes the door. "You summoned me, and then didn't answer your door."

"I just heard you knock."

"I've knocked three times. What's going on, Dame?" I stare at my friend a second and wonder how the hell I didn't hear him. Do I need my ears checked?

"Baker is fucking marrying my…Stella." I almost call her my angel, when she's not. As much as I crave her, she can't be anything more than something I lust after. Lust…fuck, I never lust after anything but the blood of my enemies. Why has she done this to me? She's a fragile little thing that needs a protector, not the devil.

"No, for real? Gracie's little friend?" he says, twisting his lips in a smirk.

"Yes. The nerve of that fucking piece of shit." My fists clench at my sides, flexing until my nails dig into my palms.

"But you're not letting that happen, right?" he asks, walking to my bar to pour himself a drink.

"Of course not." He knows what I did to Ernesto, even though he didn't witness it.

"Do you want a drink?" he asks.

I wave him off. "I've had enough."

"What's your game plan?"

"I'm going to fucking blow his brains out, but not before I demonstrate my power over the bastard." Normally I'm cool, rational until I hear something I don't like, and this is something I hate—despise. Tommy Baker stealing something so precious shouldn't even be a thought, and yet he was about to if I don't do anything about it.

I seethe with rage as I imagine his hands all over her: caressing her soft skin like I had, tasting her lips, drinking in her scent, worshiping her sweet innocence, and ruining her. No, he'd break her, and if anyone was going to darken her light, it belonged to the devil. She belongs to me.

"What about her?"

"I'll make sure she doesn't marry him." With a nod of his head, he tosses back his drink, and I consider how I'm going to make this happen.

After a long day, I stopped back at my parents' home and went into my bedroom. Like a wonderful sister, she didn't tell the staff to clean my room after our guest was here. My first stop is my bed where I bring my pillow to my face. "Fuck me." My dick is hard against the expensive fabric of my briefs. I groan as I breathe her in and try to control the urge to pull my cock out. I'm too grown to give in to a quick masturbation just because she slept in my bed, or so I tell myself. A knock at my door catches me by surprise. I dropped the pillow and yanked my boxer briefs back in place, forgetting how hard I was.

"What is it?" I grit through clenched teeth, pissed at myself and whoever is at the door because not only did I not get off, but now I'm in pain.

"Brother?" Son of a bitch. Of all the people to be at the door, it has to be my little innocent sister.

I slam my eyes shut as I try to get my breathing under control enough to respond properly. "One moment, Gracie." Sliding out of bed with I adjust my cock and then go to the door, unlocking it and letting her in.

"I didn't expect to see you here. Everything okay?" she asks, giving me a concerned once over. Fuck, come on, kid. Luckily it's dark in the room and the blackout curtains are closed.

"Yes. I'll be making some moves tomorrow. Drastic moves that require you to attend a wedding with me."

"A wedding?"

"Yes, I'd like to go over the details. I hope you have something beautiful to wear tomorrow."

"I don't want to celebrate it."

"Trust me, Hummingbird. Stella won't be marrying that piece of shit." She throws her arms around me, and I have to push her to the side.

"Sorry, I was sleeping."

"No problem, kiddo." She thinks it's because she's in her PJs, but it's because I've been fantasizing about what I want to do to her friend. "Go to bed, since we have a big day tomorrow."

"Perfect." She squeals and runs off to her room.

I set the alarm on my phone and then strip down to shower. When I come out, I open my underwear drawer and find an unexpected surprise.

"Fuck me. What a surprise, Stella." I stare at my trophy with dark pride. Tucking them away, I slip on a clean pair of boxers before sliding under the covers. Thoughts of why she put them in the drawer run through my head, driving me wild and stiffening my dick. I run my hand over my length and then stop, trying to fight the urge to beat off—to save all my arousal for tomorrow.