We’ve really bonded over our love of food and even went into conversation about opening up her restaurant in Munich. She wanted to get in contact with a realtor now before we left , so a property could be one-hundred-percent in her ownership and ready for construction when we both do get home. I understood the need to keep busy after moving to an unfamiliar area and connected her with a good friend of mine who can assist us. Carla asked me if she could be the one to purchase it, explaining she had enough left on a loan to be able to own it herself . . . but I said no. I won’t ever put my foot down to hurt her, but to help her. It took me a while to explain to Carla that we’re a team and I will help support whatever visions or dreams she wants to create. In saying it, I told her my gift to her will be paying for whatever is needed to get her second location up to par. Her reaction meant more than anything to me. Water was obviously in her eyes when she hugged me tightly and kissed me, staying in my arms for the longest she ever has. It was truthfully the first time I ever felt us connect the way we have been.
I’m out with Carla driving to her father’s when a call rings through from my father. I answer it, but shift it to private mode and hold my cellphone against my ear. “Hey Dad,” I say, all smiles from how much things have changed in the few short days it’s been since he and I had that difficult discussion.
“Son,” Just from his tone of voice I can tell something is wrong. “I need you to come home as soon as possible. There’s been an accident. Your mother was hurt.”
“What kind? Can you tell me anything?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have any news to tell you as of yet. Just get home as soon as you can.” He ends the phone call with a click and I put my cell back in the center console.
Carla smiles at me, “Want me to suck your cock? We haven’t gone that far and I’m itching to get under these pants of yours. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m fabulous at giving head.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? My mother was in some sort of accident and you want to whip my cock out?” I snarl, pulling over to the side of the road. I beat my hands against the steering wheel in frustration, wondering what the hell happened.
“Oh my god, Philippe. . .” Carla whispers, taking my hand in her own. She looks at me with sorrowful eyes, almost like she wants to fix it.
“I’m sorry. Fuck. You didn’t know and I just snapped at you. I’m so sorry.” I mutter, covering my face with my hand. I don’t want Carla to see me like this, not after we’ve been doing so well over the past few days.
She holds onto my other hand and squeezes, “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” I feel pressure at the weight of her coming over onto my side of the car. She attempts to reassure me in a sweet hug and while it’s adorable, I’m still worried about my mother.
“I need to get back to Munich now,” I say, taking my hand away so I can get a good look at her expression.
“Okay, let’s switch places and I’ll drive you to the airport from here. My father will understand, and if he doesn’t . . . well, he can go choke on a dick.”
For the first time since knowing Carlotta Moretti I’m simply taken away by her. Something I’ve come to discover about her is how giving she is to the people she cares about. I’ve never met a woman quite like her.
***
It’s fourteen hours later and I’ve already been able to see my mother at the hospital who was very fortunate. Someone t-boned her in town when she was driving and she’s lucky to be alive. The other driver can’t say the same and died on impact, but my mother is a fighter and is determined to get out of the hospital in time for my wedding to Carla. We spent most of the time talking about her, and of course she wanted to see photos of the two of us. There are only a few I like so I showed her one from two nights ago when we went out on a yacht I chartered. I wanted to have a romantic dinner on the water and Carla wore this beautiful purple dress. It’s her power color and she looks sexy as fuck in it.
Even though I’m happy my mother is doing fairly well for the accident she’s been in, I’m jet lagged and pissed. I’m angry that she was involved in such an ordeal and I want to be in my house, looking over Marienplatz square.
I’m only downstairs, waiting in the elevator for it to take me up when it opens and Luna is on the other side. “Philippe, oh my goodness, how are you?!”
“I’m fine,” I say, entering the elevator, waiting for her to exit. When she doesn’t I give her an odd look, “Were you going out?”
“I was, but . . . you just came in and we have so much to catch up on. How is your mother doing?”
“We can catch up tomorrow, Luna. I’m beyond exhausted.” I say, hoping she and I can catch up on things tomorrow.
“I’ll ride up. With the day you’ve had, you need a scotch and to relax.” She responds, pressing the button for the elevator to close.
I remain quiet for a moment, but speak up. “I don’t need you to make me a scotch, Luna. While I appreciate it, I can pour my own drink.”
For the first time since I’ve known her she rolls her eyes at me. “I understand you’re more than capable to pour your own drink. I’m trying to be a good friend to you and offer support in whatever way I can. You’re not only my boss, but a true friend to me, Philippe. You’ve been going through a lot and I wanted to check on you. Surely, you’d let me do that without being a dick, wouldn’t you?” The door opens to the floor we both live on and she exits the elevator in a rushed manner, telling me I’ve already gone and pissed her off.
Fuck, I was being a dick.
Chapter 13
Luna
Philippe has never snapped at me in such a way before. It just goes to show me that being with Carla has taken a toll on him. I can only wonder what sort of horrors he had to put up with while in Seattle. He doesn’t know it yet, but he will soon be able to breathe a little easier. I’m going to make his life so much better after this wedding is done. He’ll finally be with the person he was always meant to be with —me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, Luna. I’m very stressed with all the changes going on, but I still shouldn’t have done it.” Philippe says, placing his hand on my arm after we both enter his home.
I offer him a soft smile. “Don’t worry. I understand what it’s like to lash out at people when you’re going through a trying time. Stress has a habit of bringing out the worst in us.”
“You’re right, and I allowed it to slip out.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much, Philippe. You hold yourself to a higher standard than the rest of us, but you shouldn’t. You’re only human.”
For the first time in weeks I see Philippe smile brightly, “You know, I’d love to do that but I don’t know if I ever will. When have you ever known me to be anything but an overachiever?”
I laugh as he starts to, “Never,” I admit as I walk over to the liquor cabinet. Florin forgot to lock it up the other day but I’m hoping Philippe doesn’t notice. I grab a glass and pour him a heavy drink. “Mind if I pour one for myself?”
“Feel free to. I’ll take it as your payment for putting up with my shit attitude.” I pour myself a glass while going into my bra and grabbing the vile of drugs I got from my sister. She had a chemist friend of hers mix the concoction that will slowly put Philippe out to where he’s somewhat present of what’s going on, but he won’t remember.
I pop an ice cube in his drink and swirl his around, grabbing his with my left hand and my own with my right. To my surprise Philippe has already made his way over to the couch. I hand it to him from the back and sip on my own slowly. I don’t want to drink too much because I have to be the one in control now. If I’m going to get what I want, I need to maintain my composure and keep my head on my shoulders. One mistake and I could ruin all of this . . . but I won’t. Our love is too strong and I know just how much love he’s been holding inside himself for me.
“Shit, I forgot how good this was.” Philippe admits as I walk around the back of the couc
h and sit on the coffee table. I shimmied my skirt up a little bit and wore an exceptionally low cut shirt today. My breasts are pushed up and very visible. I’m hoping Philippe will be easy like Florin, but Florin is a center cut of meat whereas Philippe is a filet mignon.
I lean back and look at the man I love more than anything in the world. He has stress lines that weren’t there before and I hold back my smirk as he gulps down the drink in a few heavy sips. I’m sure it’ll just make the drugs get into his system even quicker.
He blinks a few times and I see the concoction is obviously starting to sink in. Galina told me to inject his balls with this syringe to keep his cock up and active while his brain relaxed. I can’t get what I want if his dick is soft. I open my purse and put it on the couch next to him, touch his face lightly. “Philippe, I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I’ve ached for you inside me.” I whimper, wondering if he can hear any of what I’m saying.
“Huh?” He asks, moving his head around in a confused motion.
I take the syringe out of my purse, place my hands on his trousers and unbuckle his pants, pulling his boxers down so I can get a good look at his balls. They’re massive and aren’t hard to miss at all. I grab the alcohol swab Galina told me to use, wipe down his balls and stick in the needle, injecting the serum inside him.
I toss the needle back into my purse, not wanting him to find anything left behind. I’ve wanted this for so long that I can’t help but think I deserve the full experience. I strip my clothes off and allow them to fall on the floor, hop over his legs and push my breast into his mouth. He sucks my nipple in gently, twirling his tongue around and moans. I leave my nipple in his mouth for a few minutes and then take it out, putting my other breast on for him to latch on while I rub the lips of my pussy against his cock.
Whatever is in the syringe kicks in quicker than I thought. Galina told me I’d have about four hours to do whatever I needed to and assured me Philippe wouldn’t be harmed, but it would seem like he woke up with a horrific hangover.
The head of his cock lines up at my entrance so I place my hand down between my lips and tease my clit, imagining how I’d feel during this moment, sliding my pussy over his dick. “Ooo, Philippe.” I moan out, keeping my hands planted firmly on his shoulder I bounce up and down. I move my left arm and pull him closer against my breast, wanting the sensation to feel more intense.
I increase my speed like a bitch in heat because I want his love. I want Philippe to fill me up with his come and breed me like a prized pony. I’ve imagined this so much, feeling myself wrapped around him, rocking on top of his cock while he adored other parts of my body.
My pussy grows wetter by the moment as I bounce, rubbing my clit harder so his cock gets the message that I want to feel him release inside of me.
I feel like a little whore rubbing my clit while fucking him, wanting to feel pleasure radiate through my body so much. I want my essence to pour over him, for my happiness to gush from my insides and it’s when I feel my body tightening up. My nipples get harder, my core feels hotter and I tighten on his cock, barely able to move.
He lets out an inaudible sound and I hear a grunt to follow, feeling his warmth spread through me. I rock myself on his dick, wanting his semen to flow through me. After a couple of minutes I determine he’s stopped coming and reach over to my purse, grabbing my phone. I hop off him and go to the coffee table, lay on my back and keep my legs in the air.
I call my sister, so proud of what I’ve just done. Her and I don’t get along very well but I know how happy she’ll be for me. She answers on the first ring, “You’ll be so happy for me. I just had Philippe inside me. Everything is coming as planned, sister.” I smile, looking down at Philippe’s body. His cock is still hard and I think I may steal more of his come. I bite my lip, thinking about how this couldn’t have been planned any more perfectly. I’ll be crossing my fingers we create something beautiful with our love.
“Carla,” He whispers, causing my eyes to go wide. I think I’ve heard him wrong when he says her name again. “Carla.”
“Actually, I have to get going. I’ll chat with you later.” He wants to keep saying her name, well, I’ll take every drop of come inside him. She won’t get anything.
Chapter 14
Carla
“I can’t wait for you to become a mother.” Aria says out of nowhere, causing me to look at her like she’s lost her damn mind.
I laugh, “I’m not even married yet and you’re over here naming babies.”
Aria giggles, “I’d say I’m sorry, but how can I be? You’ve always been amazing with Sorina. Carla, you’re a natural at it. Have you and Philippe discussed trying immediately after your wedding?”
“Oh god, no. We talked about a cat and dog, not pattering feet. I like the idea of being a mom, Aria, but I don’t know if I’m ready for it quite yet.”
“You’re never ready for it.” She chuckles, “Heck, I sure wasn’t.”
“I don’t think I can yet . . . I need more time first. Philippe and I are only just starting to get along. I don’t want to screw that all up with pressure of starting a family, extending the line, or whatever you call it, you know?
“I understand more than anyone else I think. Of course I was never under the same pressures because I married outside the clan. However, Marcel will be going through the same pressures you are now since he’s head of the Baptiste clan. From what he tells me Ion hasn’t spoken to him about his lack of a girlfriend yet, but I think he will soon. It’s only a matter of time.”
“I don’t know Ion or Mariana well but I would tend to agree with you. The extension of the Clans seems to be a big priority on their list.”
“Of course it is. They want to ensure the Clans don’t one day die.”
“Completely understandable,” I tell Aria, wanting to change the subject. The pressure of my impending union with Philippe is slowly starting to eat at me. So much so that I haven’t spoken to Philippe or asked how his mother has been doing.
I’ve been so afraid to call him to be honest. I think I know why, though. It’s because we’re starting to get along and the potential of being happy with him is so close, yet so far away. I’m just left here wondering how I’m going to screw it up, because at the end of the day I always do something.
“Aria, can you excuse me for a minute? I need to make a call.” I say, handing Sorina back over to her. She’s getting so big these days, running around like a loon.
“Sure.” Aria replies, and I get off her couch and go out her back door onto her and Sal’s lovely deck.
I call Philippe and he doesn’t answer, which makes me feel a bit odd, but he calls me back immediately. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was in the elevator and service went out as I answered.”
“It’s okay. I just wanted to call and check in on you because . . .” My thoughts slip from my mind and I can’t find the words.
“I miss you too, Carla.” Philippe whispers, and it’s almost like I can see the slight smile he makes when he stares at me from across the room
.
Chapter 15
Philippe
I hang up the phone and feel a sense of relief at the conversation I just had with Carla. Things have been a whirlwind for us since the moment I met her, and I never know what exactly to make of her. One minute she is this proper Romanian girl, and the next she seems like some American floozy. It is strange riding her ups and downs like a roller coaster when I am so used to the stability of my own family. But I feel like for the first time she is being civil and letting me in.
I can’t say for sure because we know each other so little, but I have been speculating that the reason she acts the way she does is to be rebellious and hide the pain that she is feeling inside.
Most mafia families are in some way dysfunctional. It comes with the territory. She isn’t mafia, but she is an assassin’s daughter which is likely much in the same. They just don’t have the tradition and higher class rules that The Clans do. Whi
ch is okay. I thought that my chances of falling in love with someone more connected to the real world than someone within The Clans was higher, but this is hard work. I am just glad that the phone call didn’t lead to any fighting or yelling and that I got to apologize for my behavior.
Much like my father, I often get carried away with my words, sharing what passes through my head in the moment without even thinking of the impact or if I am too emotional to be choosing my words wisely. I called her some bad things and regret it. But maybe once I get back to the states we can kind of start over and do a better job of getting to know each other without judging.
I wipe sweat from my brow and lean back with a groan. I am feeling the effects of what I did last night, and I regret that almost as much as the words I said to Carla. I drink on occasion, but I usually sip and enjoy it. Last night, I was all over the place within myself and decided to have one too many. Now, I am paying the price for that.
I open one eye to see that the clock reads that it’s half past noon, and I can’t believe I was so hungover I slept in so late. I am usually a man who is up with the dawn or shortly thereafter if I am giving myself a bit of a reprieve.
Had it not been for the phone call, I can’t even say I would be awake now. With the stiffness in my neck and pain in my head, I am unsure that I want to be, but I need to go and see my mother. That is the whole reason I flew back to Munich to begin with. I would like to think Father is taking good care of her, but sometimes he is so tyrannical around hospital staff he can ignore her true needs in the moment.
I make my way to the kitchen first, knowing that I have to do something to take the edge off. I have some Baileys, so I decide to throw that into a morning cup of tea for both flavor and a little kick to maybe make this headache ebb away before I try and be there for someone who needs me. As I move my neck each way, stirring the Baileys in the meantime, I hear a crack from both ways. I passed out in my study, so my neck was strained sleeping in my chair - one that is not meant at all for sleep. It is much too stiff.
Ruthless (The Clans Book 8) Page 7