Chapter Twenty-Two
"You're going to tell me what you know, or you're not going to make it out of here." Another bloody night of interrogation with an associate of Jones's. Frankly, I'm tired of it. No one has been any the wiser that I've wiped out half his acquaintances because the pussy would rather have everyone he knows go down than face me.
"I don't know anything, Mr. Valentino," Greg Pace stammers, eyes glossy and wide from the line of blow he did in my club when he didn't think we were watching. That only sets me off more. Turning my establishment into a cesspool of drugs isn't acceptable. The strip club is his usual haunt, but we dragged him over here and he needed a hit before he graced me with his overly cologne-wearing presence.
"That's bullshit, and we all know it. You worked for that piece of shit, and you were screwing his daughter before they disappeared." He gasps. "Yes, we know a lot more than you think we do. So please, do keep playing games with me."
"I swear, I haven't spoken to her in two weeks." Two weeks? She's been on the run for much longer than that. So, she's heading back to her contacts and using them. We're closer to finding them, and then I'll have to find another reason to keep my wife close to my side. A plan already forms in my head, one I was subconsciously doing and will continue to do every time I get my hands on her delectable ass.
"Well, then, you do have much to tell me."
Adriano's phone goes off, and he answers it. He frowns, and I glare at him. "I told you I didn't want any interruptions, so it better be important."
"Boss, we have a situation. Your wife is in the club."
"What the fuck did you say?" Did I just hear him correctly?
"She's here and coming this way, according to Nico. He almost didn't let her in, but he didn't want to touch her."
"Well, he was wise about that." I want to smash this fucker's face in. I turn to my guest who now has seconds to give me what I want. "Where is she? Now. That's all the time you have left."
"She was with some dude in West Palm Beach. I gave her money after a quickie. She said she'd call me if she needs me for anything else."
"You have his phone?" I ask. It has been powered off, but we are going to use it to our advantage to locate our enemies and flush them out after I take out the trash. This piece of shit in front of me isn't any better than the other scum. What he doesn't know is that I'm aware of his help on the arson of my building. It seems Rocco wasn't just working with Baker to rob me; he was trying to take down my empire in subtle ways. One warehouse at a time.
"Good."
A knock at the door reminds me that my little wife, who deserves an ass-spanking, has just arrived.
"We'll continue this in a moment." I step away from my guest and walk to the door, but the door is slightly ajar and I see my sweet angel dressed like sin—pure lust wrapped up in guilty pleasure, covered in nothing but fuck-me material. "What the fuck are you wearing, and what are you doing here?"
"I'm wearing a dress, and why is it a big deal that I'm at your club, Husband?" She looks around me as if she's trying to find something. I'm seething, wanting to shut this motherfucker down right now. How many dicks were eyeing my wife?
I call into the room and say, "Gabe, I want footage from the moment she walked in until the moment we got her in here."
"You want to know what I'm doing in here, Wife?" I open the door to my office where Camille's lover is tied up, waiting for my return.
"Take him somewhere more private. We'll have to finish this later. My wife seems to think showing everyone in this club what belongs to me is appropriate." I don't miss that the tied-up bastard's eyes linger on my wife's body. Seething, I've added a mental note to spice up his torture. I'll ask Adriano if we have cattle prods or if we can get them somewhere at this late hour.
"No one comes up here," I warn my staff.
"Yes, Boss," Adriano says.
Turning to my wife, I cuff her bicep and drag her off to the VIP lounge. "You want to come in here dressed in a slip of a piece of cloth for what? To get some asshole to notice you?"
"You certainly did." I want to spank that ass of hers.
"Yeah, I did. Bend over," I snarl, tossing her onto the same seat I had her on the first time she came into the club.
"Why?" she asks, but I push her shoulders down and she's forced onto all fours.
"Don't fucking argue with me. Don't question me, Stella. You are my wife, and you come in here while I'm working, distracting me with your pussy practically on display for all the guys in the club to see." I run my finger over her slit that's already wet. She might be putting up an attitude, but her little cunt is soaked with need.
"You're mine, and showing off this cunt isn't smart because I'll fucking kill every little dick out there for trying to touch you. Do you understand me?"
"I'm only yours for a little while longer."
"Until we're done, you're mine," I snapped, spanking her ass. She cries out.
"Go ahead, Angel. No one can hear your cries up here. Pop that ass back and take your spanking." Her reddened cheeks stiffen my dick to pure stone, so I free my cock before I come in my pants. I line my tip at her sopping wet hole and push my way in as I fist her hair.
"Damiano," she screams as I bottom out inside her tight cunt.
"That's right. Say my name. Shout that motherfucker as I fuck this tight hole. I own this pussy, Stella." I grab the front of her dress and tug down the material, holding her massive breasts in my palms. If I wasn't so fucking possessive about people seeing her naked, I'd put her tits on the glass. Fuck, I'm so damn close.
"I love the way you take this big dick. Your wet hole is so tight around me, begging for it."
"Yes, Dame."
"Come, Stella. Come." My thumb reaches down and presses her clit, and she squirts on the leather. Fuck, that sends me over the edge and I fill her up, shooting deep inside her. I pull out and she scrambles to adjust herself, face flush.She's too sexy to stay at the club tonight. Everything about her screams delectable, including the just-been-smashed look. I can't keep her by my side since I have business to handle, so my temper grows.
As she fixes herself, I stare, wanting another round, but there are things to do so I lead her back to my office where I take a spare suit blazer from my coat closet and cover her body. I say, "Now it's time for you to go home."
"Are you serious?" she hisses.
"Of course I am." I adjust my suit and then summon Adriano. "Take Mrs. Valentino home and make sure that she doesn't leave the estate. I have matters to attend to." There's still the mess we made on the seats, which I'll personally clean up because I don't want anyone touching my wife's release.
"Forgive me for forgetting my place, Mr. Valentino." She follows Adriano out of the club, and I know I screwed up, but what could I do? Business has to carry on.