Oh crap, I knew this was bound to happen but I hadn’t actually thought about what I was going to say when asked about myself. I can’t exactly blurt out that I was born into the Bratva, and not just born into but that my father was the head honcho. That I had the furthest thing from a normal childhood, and oh yeah, I was trained to become an assassin starting at the age of thirteen. Yeah… that wouldn’t go over very well, especially considering who’s house we’re standing in.
So I shrug and give the usual answer I always give. “There’s not much to tell. I had an okay childhood. My dad was never around, even before my mom died, so I pretty much raised myself.” Then because I can pretty much guarantee what questions came next – do you have any siblings? Or I’m so sorry. How’d she die? - I turn my attention to Klara. “You’re looking good, Klara. Happy.” I note with a warm smile.
She turns a shade of red only rivaled by Sofia’s lip color, her pale eyes searching for something over the back of Sofia’s head and out the huge window overlooking the backyard. A soft smile lifts the corners of her lips when she finds what… or who she’s looking for. “I am,” she says almost dreamily. “Braxton is…” -she pauses- “he can be a hard man sometimes but I wouldn’t change who he is. He came into my life at a time I needed him the most and I think the same is true for him.”
A silent moment passes while we allow her to stare at her man and get lost in whatever memories have her eyes glazing over.
“Ugh, enough with the fairytale, heart-eyes stuff,” Sofia whines, popping a cherry tomato in her mouth. “I want to know the dirty. Is it true about the size of a man’s hands?” She waggles her eyebrows at me and I can’t fight the belly laugh that rumbles through me.
“No comment,” I wheeze, trying to catch my breath.
“Awh, C’mon! Spill the dirt, Jess. I’m single, I need to live vicariously through you cause there’s no way in hell I’m living vicariously through her,” she tips her head indicating Klara. “That’s just… ew,” she shivers. “I can’t even go there. That’s a whole lot of nope,” she says popping the p.
“Sorry, Sofia. I never kiss and tell,” I say with a wink and that earns me a pout from Braxton’s cousin.
I chance a glance over Sofia’s head while the two of them go about discussing other things and catch Alessandro’s eyes staring back at me through the pane of glass. A smirk pulls at his lips, his eyes blazing with heat and promise of what’s to come once we get back to his place. A shiver runs through me and I cannot wait.
Alessandro ends the connection all too soon but by the sudden snarl of his lips I’m guessing the conversation he’s having with Braxton and Antonio isn’t a good one.
I tune back into my conversation with Sofia and Klara just in time to hear Klara say, “…anniversary of his brother’s death.”
“Whose brother?” I ask.
“Alessandro,” Sofia answers automatically and then slaps a hand over her mouth. I’m assuming because she wasn’t supposed to tell me that tidbit of information, which is confirmed by the look of horror on Klara’s face.
“Alessandro has a brother?”
“Um…” Sofia hums, looking everywhere but at me.
“He did,” Klara says hesitantly, gauging my reaction.
“Oh,” I shrug, breaking off a piece of celery stick.
“You’re not going to ask what happened?” Sofia asks with a lifted brow.
“Nope. Not really my place to ask. If Alessandro wanted me to know he’ll tell me.”
The two women eye me wearily but must sense that I’m saying is the truth because they go back to talking and preparing sides. Well, Klara goes back to preparing sides while Sofia and I watch. We did ask her if she wanted help but she shooed us and said she had it all handled. I wasn’t complaining. Me and kitchens don’t have a good relationship. I’ll burn water for crying out loud.
We each grab a side dish and carry it out to a big cast iron table with glass top in the backyard. Alessandro draws me into his side when I try and pass him to go help Sofia and Klara bring the drinks out.
“Having fun, Angel?”
I wrap my arms around his middle and smile up at him. “I am.” And it’s the truth. I haven’t felt this accepted anywhere in a very long time.
“Good,” he says kissing my forehead. I think this is the first time anyone has ever done that and I sort of like it. Okay, I love it.
“I know something we could do that would make it even more fun though,” I say, waggling my eyebrows playfully.
Alessandro immediately grabs my hand, placing his open beer on the closest table and pulls me alongside him back into the house. I giggle when he pushes open what looks like an office door and pulls me inside. Slamming my back up against the door as soon as it’s closed.
“These jeans look like they’re too hot for this weather, Angel, I may have to strip you of them to cool you down,” he rasps between kisses along my neck. My jeans already undone before the words have fully left his mouth.
Alessandro kisses along the tops of my breasts, hooking his fingers in the waistband of my pants and pushing my jeans and underwear down in one. He kneels in front of me, yanking the pants and underwear off one leg and then hitching that same leg over his shoulder.
“Can you be quiet, Angel?” he asks in between licks up my slit, his tongue teasing my wet entrance before each lick.
“I-I can try,” I pant, fingers curling over his head.
“Good, because if Braxton finds us in his office I’ll never hear the end of it. Now, give me this pussy.”
Alessandro swirls his tongue around my clit and then sucks it in his mouth as his hitches my leg higher up his shoulder. His teeth graze the sensitive bud and I buck my hips, arching my back off the door. My grip on his head tightens and I hold him to my sex when his thrusts one finger inside me and then another and another until his filling me.
“Alessandro,” I moan, my hips bucking faster against his face.
His fingers curl, finding the spot that drives me wild while he eats me like I’m his last fucking meal. My body pulls tight and then the sweetest of highs takes over as I come crashing down. My entire body shuddering with the effects of the orgasm Alessandro gave me.
He helps me back into my jeans, slapping my ass before pulling me into a kiss. I wish, not for the first time, that were back at his place because then I could jump him right now and ride him like a slut on a bucking bull at a country bar.
***
ALESSANDRO
After making sure our clothes are back in place and nothing out of order, a red file folder with a yellow sticky note on Braxton’s desk catches my eye, but what has my feet moving toward it is the name in black ink handwritten across the note. Vincent Ferrara. My father. Why would Braxton have a file on my father?
“You okay?” Jessika asks, her hands sprawled across my back.
I snatch up the file before she can get a good look at it and fold it in half. Slipping it in the waistband behind my back when I turn back around to face her.
“I’m good, Angel,” I reply, kissing her forehead. “Let’s go get some food.”
***
JESSIKA
When Braxton has declared that the meat is done, we all gather around the table. Our plates filled high with all sorts of grilled meats from chicken, ribs, steak, and even burgers - which I was told was by Sofia’s request- and various sides like macaroni salad, potato salad, even garlic bread, and of course the plate of cut-up vegetables.
Conversation flows easily while we all dig into the food. Everyone seems surprised that Braxton hasn’t managed to burn the food but instead the meat is perfectly cooked. I take that to mean he’s not so great in a kitchen either or he just never bothers to cook.
As the food gets eaten and the drinks flow, I feel myself relaxing more and more and lowering my guard a little. It feels so good to laugh, and not just any laugh but full belly laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much or had this much fun.
Something still nags at the back of my mind though. I can’t help but wonder why Alessandro never mentioned that he had a brother. I mean, I know it’s kind of hypocritical of me because I’ve never told him about my sister either but for some reason, it hurts more than it should knowing that he’s keeping parts of himself from me.
That’s like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?
I shake off the thought and decide to leave it alone. Alessandro will tell me when he’s good and ready to tell me. Right? Right.
***
Wrong.
It’s been a week since we had dinner at Braxton and Klara’s house, and Alessandro still hasn’t told me about his brother.
Get a grip, Jessika. You already knew about his brother so what difference does it make?
The difference is that I keep wishing Alessandro will tell me himself. I remind myself that a week isn’t long at all and maybe Alessandro is just waiting until we know each other a little better first before he tells me. That’s what goes through my head, but what comes out my mouth one evening while we’re sitting on his sofa watching TV is the polar opposite.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother?”
If I didn’t think the topic was off limits before, I do now. Alessandro’s body closes up like Fort Knox. His posture turns rigid, jaw ticking, and I swear the vein popping on his forehead may actually burst.
“Never mind,” I try to backtrack, “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.” I try to settle back against his chest but he’s so stiff that I end up moving to the other side of the sofa and curling my legs up under me.
“It’s not a pretty story, Jess,” he says, blowing out a breath and I can tell it’s taking everything in him to release the tension that has him coiled so tight.
“Alex, you don’t have to…”
“He died when we were boys,” he interrupts me, turning those grey eyes on me. “You sure you want to hear this?”
“Only if you want me to,” I reply honestly.
Alessandro shakes his head, “you’ll never look at me the same way again, Angel.”
“You can’t possibly know that.”
“Si,” he says, “I do because my parents never looked at me the same way again after it happened.”
I sit up straighter, uncurling my legs and dropping my feet to the floor. I’m sensing that whatever it is he’s about to tell me could very well impact the way I view him and our relationship, but I already decided a while ago that I wasn’t giving him up. To hell with my father and everyone else.
I move closer to him, placing a hand on one his that are balled into fists on his bouncing leg.
“I killed my brother with a tree branch,” he grits out.
Everything inside me stills, but I don’t remove my hand from where it’s covering his. That was not what I was expecting when he said he killed his brother. With a tree branch? What the fuck?
“I don’t know exactly what happened. All I remember is waiting for Johnny to come play with me in the treehouse our father had just built for us, but he was younger and the ladder was still hard for him to climb so he always refused to play with me.”
Alessandro’s jaw clenches again, any harder and I’m afraid he won’t have any teeth left back there.
“The next thing I know our mother is kneeling in front of me, yelling for my dad and asking me what I did. I couldn’t remember a damn thing, Jess. Even to this day, I can’t remember anything that happened in between those two events, except thinking that he didn’t want to play with me.”
I’m almost afraid to ask but I want to know. “How did… what did…” I swallow and try again. “What did your parents do after they found him?”
“That’s the fucked-up part. That was the day I learned how to get rid of a body. I may have accidentally found the path, but my father lit the way to me becoming what I am now.” His lips lift in a snarl like those very words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. “This is what you get with me, Jessika,” he says turning to face me. “I do the Famiglia’s dirty work. Anything they ask of me, I do it. Nothing is off limits. And I killed my own brother.”
He’s trying to scare me away before we even have a chance, but it won’t work because while yes, that is fucked up and I briefly think back to try and recognize any sociopathic tendencies I may have overlooked, I have also seen and done my fair share of fucked up things.
I know enough about this man to know that if he could he would go back and change what he did, but ultimately that path led him to Braxton which led him to me.
“You can’t scare me, Alex,” I tell him, snuggling back into his side and inhaling the comforting scent of pure man. I suspect that there’s more he’s not telling me but if I push him Alessandro will close up even more.
After his confession, Alessandro takes me to bed and proves how much I was right. He’s no less a monster than I am. Sex with Alessandro has always been rough and fast… marking. But tonight, tonight it’s all slow, sensual touches, soft kisses, licks and little nips. Alessandro spends hours bringing me to the brink only to back off until my threatening orgasm subsides only to build me back up again. And finally, when early morning light begins shining through the curtains of his room, does he allow the waves to crash over me.
“What’s your number one fantasy?” I ask him, my head on his chest, our legs entangled and both of us fighting the post-orgasmic slumber.
“You really want to know?” Alessandro counters, drawing little circles on my exposed shoulder.
“I do,” I say, resting my chin on his chest and peering up at him.
“I want to watch as another guy fucks you then I want both of us to double penetrate you. Me in your tight, wet pussy while he continues to fuck your ass and after you cum so hard you think you’re going to die, I’m going to fuck his ass until I cum and he’ll spill his load in your gorgeous ass. And you’ll take it all because I tell you to.”
I shiver, my thighs clenching. I’m already wet again from that little visual. “Okay,” I say, breathlessly.
“Okay?” Alessandro asks, an eyebrow raised.
“I-I want that too.”
“Turn over and go to sleep, Jessika,” Alessandro grunts, stopping my hand from its descent under the covers and towards its target that’s currently pitching a tent under the duvet. Once I’m on my side, Alessandro spoons up against my back, a hand coasting down my belly to cup my sex.
“This pussy is mine and mine alone. I’m the only one who gets to fuck it,” he growls, nipping at my ear. “Now be a good girl and go to sleep.”
JESSIKA
“I CAN’T DO it anymore, Mel,” I say into the phone the minute I hear the call connect.
“Can’t do it anymore? Can’t do what anymore?” She asks, sleep clouding her voice and making me momentarily feel bad for calling her at – I check my watch – seven in the morning. Oy, I’m a bad friend. Mel never wakes up before nine.
“My mission… my mark.”
Mel snorts sounding more awake. “Honey, I think it’s too late for that. You’re already doing your mark.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
She giggles, “I know. I’m just teasing you,” she says before the line goes quiet and everything turns serious. “Then don’t do it, Jess. You’re not his puppet. Stand up for what you want once in your life and tell your father to go to hell.”
This is why I called my best friend. She doesn’t like my father, never has even though they’ve only met once. She’s got my back… always. I knew before I called her that I was most likely going to tell my dad to shove his revolver up his ass, but I needed that extra push, that extra sign letting me know I was doing the right thing. The self-martyr thing most likely but the right thing nonetheless.
“I think I’m going to do it, Mel, I’m going to sever all ties with the Bratva.”
“Good,” she yawns. “It’s about bloody time too.”
Did I mention how much I
love my best friend? Well, I do.
“Oh, and Jess,” she says right before I hang up. “Try not to get killed.”
“Love you too, Melanie.”
“Love you, boo,” she yawns into the phone again before hanging up.
No sooner have I hit the little red button on my screen ending the call, does it ring again with a private number. A ball of lead hits heavy in my belly because only one person ever calls me from a private number. Each time Amanda has called it’s been an unknown number, but every time he’s called it’s from a private number. And every single time it’s been because he has added another mark to my list.
“You said one more,” I answer the call. My grip tightens around the phone until my knuckles turn white.
“Consider this a guarantee,” my father’s deep voice comes through loud and clear.
“A guarantee?”
“Do this one extra and your retirement from the Bratva will be a guarantee. That is still what you want, isn’t it? A clean start away from the Romanov name?”
“Yes.” I could legally change my name. I could move to the other side of the world but unless my father made it clear that I was out and untouchable I would always be looking over my shoulder wondering if that’ll be the day the sins of my past catch up to me.
“Then do it, Jessika. You’ll find all the information in the folder and I expect an update by morning.” With that, my father hangs. No goodbye as per usual.
With a resounding sigh, I lean back against the leather back of the desk chair, eyeing the folder that was just delivered that morning with weary contempt. If I do this… if I do this one extra job for the Bratva what would stop them from adding one more after this one is done, and one more after that. There could always be just one more hit. But if I don’t do it and my father wasn’t lying about it being the last… well, I’m fucked either way. Plus, I could use a stress reliever that didn’t involve a few rounds of dirty sex with Alessandro. My body was sore and tired and well used after last night.
Dark Betrayal (Famiglia Book 2) Page 7