Risqué: Mafia Romance (Beautiful Sinner Series Book 5)

by Elena M. Reyes

  “Very possessive of you, don’t you think?”

  “You have no idea.” Before I can protest, he dips down and steals a harsh, yet quick kiss before pulling the zipper halfway up. “You look simply mouthwatering in my clothes.”

  I laugh at that. Dear God, I’m swimming in his hooded sweatshirt. Looks more like a no-shape dress, almost a winter-style muumuu on me. “I’m sure I look smashing.”

  “More than.” Callum stands to his full height and places a hand on my shoulder, turning me around to face the others. “We’re ready to begin.”

  And that’s what we do. For the next thirty minutes, we watch and then follow instructions, each working with one of the cooks. I’m with Chef Reyes, while Callum works with a guy who seems scared of his own shadow. It’s quite amusing, really.

  “Good job, Miss Rubens. You’re a natural in the kitchen.” We finished prepping the vegetables, bringing them over to the large paellera where Callum was busily browning the rabbit and chicken, all the seafood set aside for now.

  At the chef’s praise, I smile. “My abuela taught me everything I know. Best cook in the area she lived in while alive.”

  “Really? Que parte de España?” he asks, his Spanish accent becoming thicker, smile widening. “I’m from Valencia myself.”

  “Fornell’s in Menorca.”

  “What a small world.”

  “It is.” We stop near the hot pan, placing the tray down with all our diced vegetables. “You ready to get out of my way, Mr. Jameson? You’re taking too long.”

  “Brat.” One by one, he pulls out the meat and places it in a large glass dish while handing over a metal spoon the likes of which I’ve seen before. My paternal grandmother had a few and never used anything else while cooking. This was her all-in-one kitchen multi-tool. “Now I’m hungry. Hurry up and feed me, woman.”

  His playfulness makes me laugh while the other two men hide their chuckles behind a sip of wine. We’ve gone through a few bottles now and I’m a tiny bit tipsy, but I’ve never had so much fun.

  No pretenses. No pushiness.

  And while the chef instructs, I take over the cooking and put the rest of the dish together with Callum at my side. Handing me items. Giving me a sip or three from his own glass. By the time we finish, I am relaxed, hungry, and more than ready to be alone with him.

  11

  “I’m sorry if I ruined the rest of your plans,” she says from beside me, head resting on my shoulder as I drive back to her place after having spent the rest of the afternoon sitting out on the large balcony at R’s eating and drinking. Just being while watching the sun rise to its highest peak and then begin to set.

  And while it’s still somewhat early, only a little past seven, we’re heading back to her home for something she likes to call Netflix and only chill. She’s bloody adorable.

  Aliana likes to pretend she’s not as affected by me as I am her, a lie she’s feeding herself to not feel so out of control, but the truth is there’s no denying that she’s my perfect catastrophe while I’m hers.

  Something brought us together, and I’m no longer questioning my sanity. Not after the last twenty-four hours in her presence. She calms the demon within me. He’s a playful beast for her.

  “To be honest, I much prefer your idea.” At my words, she sighs and nods. There are so many questions floating around that beautiful head. So many doubts, but I plan to shut them all down. This is right. We are right. “Anything you want to watch in particular? Any sweets or nibbles we need to pick up?”

  “Sweets or nibbles?” Her lips quirk. She’s loving the accent, the differences in her English to mine. “You mean junk food?”

  “Aye.”

  “You’re Irish now? Or a pirate?”

  The road is empty near her home, and I press the brake before attacking, digging my fingers into her sides. Loud giggles fill the inside of my rental, her hands trying to fight me off and failing. “You love taking the piss, love? You think yourself a comedian now?”

  “Oh God,” she yells out, trying to push me back, but I don’t stop. Those two words cause me to throb, fucking jerk behind the zipper of my trousers while she’s unaware of the cruel punishment she’s submitted me to. I want her crying out beneath me, to hear her beg God for mercy while I give her none. “Please....please!”

  “Apologize, love.”

  “No!” My fingers dig in deeper, especially when I discover that right above her hips makes her squeal. I focus on that area until tears run down her flushed cheeks and the word sorry becomes a mantra. “No more.”

  “Then don’t be cheeky.” Her warm eyes narrow at my wink, but she settles back when I put the car in drive and continue toward her house. “And to answer your question, I use it from time to time. When the family votes, aye means yes.”

  “Gotcha.” Still out of breath, Aliana reaches over and flicks my ear hard. “You’re still a jerk for that, by the way.”

  “My apologies.” I’m anything but.

  “Not good enough.” Arms crossed over her chest, I look over to catch her lips pursed in thought. Fuck, I want to bite them. “You’ll need to make it up to me.”

  I swallow hard, forcing my eyes back to the road. “Name it, and it’s yours.” It takes her all of two seconds to snort then fight to contain her amusement. “How painful is this going to be, Miss Rubens? Can I buy my way out?”

  “No, and excruciating.”

  “What if I—”

  “No.”

  “No?” Pulling into her driveway, I put the car in park and cut the engine. “Are you sure you want to say no to me?”

  “Positive.” Her gorgeous brown eyes sparkle in the dark, the little bit of streetlight streaming in through her side bringing out their warmth. “You will head inside, eat what I give you, and not a single complaint.”

  “Are you giving me orders, love?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation, but what I enjoy the most is the look of surprise on her face. The shock, yet she doesn’t waiver or cower from me, and I’d sit through a hundred corny movies to see the silly grin on her face all day.

  “As you wish. Do your worst.” Someday I’ll repay you for this with my tongue between those thighs.

  I leave her primly asleep on her bed—after being carried—before we reach the midway point of The Little Mermaid. She was snoring a bit, stretched out on the couch she slowly overtook while I played with her hair. The soft strands felt like silk on my fingertips, but it’s the satisfied groans that had beads of pre-come falling from the tip of my cock and rolling down the length.

  Unlocking the front door to the townhome beside Aliana’s, I walk over to the Ziploc box sitting atop the kitchen island. It’s there along with a thick manila envelope, a cheeky welcome basket that makes me snort, and the instructions to change the front-door passcode to my temporary residence.

  Kray’s been in and out all day, the security app on my cell alerting me each time he entered, allowing the furniture company access to set up the few things purchased. Couch, dining table, and a king-sized bed are all I need. My plans don’t account for staying long, but this place will come in handy and when you have the money, anything is accessible within the timeframe you allow.

  Pulling out the set of keys I took from Aliana, I remove the one I need and slip it inside a small plastic bag. Timmons is already at the door per my instructions silently waiting, and I toss the item his way.

  He catches it, giving me a nod. “This will take thirty at the most. The shop is a little far.”

  “No worries. I’ll be here.”

  “Will you be needing me after?”

  “No.” I know what he wants, and she should be easy for him to locate. “Handle what you need to. I’ll call you when I’m ready to discuss her protection detail.”

  “Will do. My phone is always on if you need me.” He leaves, the door closing behind him, and I’m already at the fridge, grabbing a cold lager and popping the top. The first sip is refreshing, almost enough to cool
the simmering heat left behind from her skin on mine.

  It doesn’t, though.

  I’m starting to think nothing will.

  There’s a TV in the living room and I turn it on, switching over to the app with the feed I’ll need, which leads me to the Airplay setting on my iPhone. I left three gifts inside her home, an invasion of privacy I don’t regret.

  Her words, the genuine reactions every time I give her a choice, don’t sit well with me. It nags—like a slowly penetrating blade—piercing my skin until a wound appears that will not close.

  If someone is hurting her, I will kill them.

  Without a second thought. No empathy.

  My beautiful girl deserves to smile more. I’ve claimed her. There’s no going back.

  I’m a man of my word and convictions; Aliana Rubens is mine and will be.

  “She’ll catch up soon enough.” Placing the bottle down atop the granite, I open the file and read. It only takes a few lines for things to begin clicking into place, and my vision turns red. Anger burns through me just as a light across the street turns on, bringing a smile to my lips.

  A man should never hunt when he’s unprepared. Being comfortable makes you weak.

  And while I want to empty a clip in his head, I have better plans for Mr. Martin.

  His shadow moves across the window while my lights go out. He sits where I can make out his body, and I can easily shoot him from here without him noticing the man taking in his every move.

  I have a silencer. I have enough bullets to repaint the inside of that home with his blood.

  “Your time is almost up.”

  Malcolm and Javier are waiting for me at the front door of the Asher estate when I enter his driveway. It’s a little after one in the morning and past the customary visiting hour, but this matter couldn’t wait. Not when my concerns for Aliana continue to grow, and after this visit, I have one more person to see.

  I also can’t show up at Asher Holdings with the feds looking into our moves.

  Casper and I aren’t “here.” There are no tracks leading to our entry or exit.

  They’re both looking a little haggard with a few specks of blood on their clothes, but the identical business-like grins on their faces say they know why I’m here. Truth is, though, they don’t. They’d never guess the trouble I’ll bring to their doorstep if I’m pushed the wrong way.

  Friendships won’t matter this time.

  With a nod and no words exchanged, we walk inside and straight to his home office, and I understand why when I catch a glimpse of a woman laughing down the opposite hall with Mariah. She’s young, reminds me a bit of Aurora, but I know she’s not. My cousin hasn’t let his girl out of his sight since we parted ways.

  “Callum, it’s good to see you,” Malcolm says after Javi closes the door, extending a hand for me to shake. “I didn’t know you were still in town. Everything okay?”

  “Oi, mate...” I roll my eyes before pulling him in for a hug. “...take that formal crap and shove it.”

  “I’ll take note and add it to his file,” Javier says from behind me, moving to sit in a chair across from Asher’s desk. “Doubt he’d listen, though.”

  “You two are a pain.”

  “A needed one,” I counter, and then pull back to sit in the other unoccupied seat. The amusement drops from my face the moment I sit and the other two men take notice, mimicking my body language. “I’m heading back to London soon, but I have something pressing to take care of first.”

  “I see.” Malcolm walks to the bar inside his home office, lifting up a crystal decanter with what I’m sure is gin. “Drink first or after?”

  “First, but not that shit.” At my response, he laughs, presenting me with a bottle of whiskey from the shelf beneath, and I nod. “Better, and bring it over.”

  “Shot or?”

  “Better go with the full bottle just in case.”

  “That bad?” Malcolm’s brows furrow, he casts a quick hard glance at Javi.

  I shrug. The way this conversation will go depends on his answer. “Not per se.”

  “Are you here to discuss the financial issue we—”

  “No.”

  That surprises Malcolm, his head tilts to the side while he scratches his chin. “Then?”

  “I’m here to discuss your business agreement with Diego Rubens and Rigo Martin.”

  “You know I don’t discuss banking between clients.” He places the bottle down with two empty tumblers, one for myself, and the other for Javier, before taking a seat. His expression gives nothing away. “That’s against the NDA we both sign.”

  “I could give a bloody fuck about money right now.”

  Malcolm doesn’t react to the anger in my tone. “What’s going on, Callum? What did they do?”

  “My apologies.” I take in a deep breath and calm myself. He’s considered family, and I need to remember that before I do something I can’t take back. At least, not until I know how deep he’s involved. “But Malcolm, I need the truth from you. I need your word.”

  He nods. “Ask me what you must.”

  “Do you or do you not own a townhome in the Lincoln area across the street from Rubens’s daughter?”

  “No.” No hesitation. His posture is calm.

  “I believe you, but…” grabbing the whiskey, I pour three fingers’ worth for myself and Javier. “…why is it traced back to you?”

  Like a light being switched on, he’s furious. His anger runs as hot as mine. “Please explain.”

  “A bullshit corporation was set up with your name as the sole owner. They purchased a home where one of my men is monitoring someone under my protection.”

  “Who’s under your protection?”

  I raise my glass in appreciation before taking a deep sip. “The governor’s daughter.”

  Understanding flashes across his eyes, but he keeps a controlled expression. I see it, though. There’s anger in the twitch of his jaw and the tense way in which he grips his drink, one he throws back before placing the glass down with care. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Javier gets up then, walking over to a cabinet behind us, and opens the bottom drawer. Without a word, he walks back and places a single sheet of paper down in front of me.

  “I had no knowledge they’d done this, and I apologize for my ignorance on this issue.”

  “My anger isn’t directed at you, but her safety is my main concern.” Both men nod in understanding, they also share another look. “My belief is that either the governor is behind this or Martin, and while the end game is still unknown, it won’t be for much longer.

  “How serious are you about this subject?”

  “Enough for me to consider putting a bullet between your eyes had I thought you to be involved.”

  His lips twitch with a smirk. “Fair enough. I’d do the same.”

  “So, you understand I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

  “Yes.” Nodding toward the face-down sheet of paper, he taps the wooden desktop. “Rubens banks with me, and the other man hasn’t stepped foot in any of my banking institutions in a year at least. Cleared everything, moved it offshore, and has been laying low from my understanding.”

  “Why low?”

  “He owes someone a lot of money.”

  “Who?” I ask. There’s no one in the city that moves higher quantities than my family, even with our headquarters out of the country.

  “A loan shark with a hard-on for taking over, but he’s made no move yet. Casper knows this; they’ve had words in the past.”

  The name comes to mind at once, and I also recall the way I personally killed the right hand to their boss. “The Gaspar family?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Hmmm. “Not too surprised. Those wankers are too hardheaded for their own good.”

  “They are. They’ve also been warned, so do what you must.”

  “Aye.” For a moment he’s quiet, while my mind is running a hundred mile
s a minute. There’s more here than meets the eye, and I don’t trust any of the players. Gaspar and Rubens shouldn’t be on speaking terms, much less, after the latter used his father once as a piggyback bust to claim victory over his opponent when he came into office.

  “I move all of Rubens’s money, you know.” Malcolm’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, but those words make me smile. “All of it.”

  “With stipulations, I presume?”

  “Plenty, and I believe a few here have been broken. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

  “Of course.” Throwing the rest of the spirit back, I place my tumbler down and relax a bit, leg crossed at the knee. “I’ll respect your NDA, but I want the rest. Addresses, mobiles, where they eat and shit. We both know you have this information., Malcolm.”

  “Already in front of you.”

  I don’t turn the sheet over, but I do grab it and after folding the paper, I place it inside the right pocket of my trousers. “Cheers. It’s much appreciated.”

  “If you need any assistance—”

  “I know.” There’s an understanding between us; a man must protect at all costs what’s his. Malcolm has done so with his woman. My cousin will shift his life for his, a conversation I know is coming.

  “But there is one request I ask you to adhere to for my assistance on the matter.”

  “This is your playground, not mine. The guest is always courteous to the host.”

  “Rigo Martin is mine to deal with.”

  “As long as you understand the others are solely at my mercy.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good.” This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with greedy politicians with White House or Parliament dreams.

  12

  “What the fuck?” Giannis wakes up sputtering, the ice-cold water running down his front while he startles on the chair he’d fallen asleep on. Two p.m. and taking a nap, fucking waste of sperm. He’s not strapped down. He’s untouched so far, completely unaware of the man sitting across from him in a plastic chair with a folded table to his right. My Ruger with a silencer is visible on the table; it’s all black and heavy, with a full magazine. Each bullet has his name on it, but the discharge will all depend on him. “This shit isn’t funny!”