Mafias Embrace (Lethal Beauty & Smoking Steel Book 2)

by Darcy Ray

  "Excuse me, pardon me. Follow me this way, ma'am, and um . . . sirs." Squeezing past the three of us, the squirrely man heads to the right which has a line of doors. Nodding my head, we follow behind him and into the room he opened the door for. Inside the room, there is a large oval table with six chairs surrounding it. In the center sits a crystal vase stocked full of wilted roses. Tears threaten to spill once again, but after a few quick breaths, I have my mask back in place.

  Breaking loose from my guys, I walk around the table and claim the head chair. As soon as I’m seated, everyone else takes their spots. Joe and Godfrey take the chairs on either side of me, and Viktor sits next to Joe. Standing at the other side of the table, the lawyer grips his chair and rocks back and forth on his heels. Rolling my eyes at his nervousness, I turn my focus back on the roses that are in Dominik’s signature vase. Out of curiosity, I ask, "When is the last time they were replaced?"

  He looks confused for a second, but as soon as he sees where my attention is, his face softens, and he responds. "They were sent over just over a week ago. I . . . I just can't change them out." I have the same issue. The roses that were on my island were beyond dead. They had started to rot in the vase. Until one day I went into the kitchen and they were gone. I don’t tell him that, no, that thought I keep to myself.

  I'm not sure how long the room sits in silence, but the sound of Viktor slamming his hands on the mahogany table startles everyone out of the trance we were in. Clearing his throat, Vik says, "Let's get this reading over with, I'm starving."

  The lawyer jumps into action; he lets go of the chair and scurries out of the room. Loud thumping and a string of curses follow after him, and only a few minutes later, he returns with a safe-deposit box and a thick manilla envelope. Sitting down in the chair, he lays everything out in front of him and looks to all of us. "These types of things are usually recorded for security reasons, but Mr. Romanov is—I mean was—a very loyal customer. I know there are things that are better left unsaid, so I will withhold recording. Now to start, everything in this safe-deposit box is to be given to a Ms. Doris Nettles. The instructions are for me to tell a Ms. Selene to hand-deliver these personally to Ms. Doris."

  Nodding my head, I wave for him to continue.

  "With that out of the way, I’ll continue to the property Mr. Dominik Romanov owned. The first property on the list . . ." I zone out as soon as he starts. All I can hear is blah blah blah and bits and pieces of words every now and then. The only thing I can focus on is wondering what's in the box for Ms. Doris. What is Dom’s connection to her?

  I am almost completely zoned out when the sound of my name brings me back. Looking up from the table, I see everyone staring at me as if they are waiting for some kind of reply. I don't even hide the fact I wasn't listening. Instead, I stand from the table and walk over to the lawyer with my hand out and say, "Where do I sign? I’m over it. I don't want to be here. I'll read through all the fine print later." Looking down on him, I finally notice his name tag. "Doyle. So that's your name." With nothing further to say, I snatch the pen from his trembling fingers and hastily sign the several pages that require signatures.

  With the last signature done, I toss the pen down and walk out of the office. Tracing my steps back toward the front, I surge through the hall with the need to escape this dark and depressing place. I don't pause for the people calling my name behind me. Instead, I yank the door open, making it nearly fly back and hit me. As soon as the fresh air hits me, I take in a deep, cleansing breath and hold it in for as long as possible. Just as the black spots start to form, I slowly exhale all the bullshit that I've had to deal with in the past couple weeks.

  As the next breath of air fills my lungs, a new resolve starts to form. I can't be as soft and carefree anymore. I'm the goddamn mafia boss! There can't be any more tears, no more breakdowns, and for fuck's sake, no more people dying! Taking the feeling of straight badassness, I bottle it up and store for when it's needed. I don't need to be a fucking savage when it’s only my men and me. No, I can let my guard down when they’re around. They won't judge me for being the big ball of emotions that I am.

  Surveying my surroundings, I spot the SUV we arrived in and walk toward it. Sliding in, I ignore David’s probing gaze and buckle up. Shrugging his shoulders, he turns the volume up on the radio and waits for the others. It only takes them a few minutes to wrap up their conversation with Doyle before joining us in the SUV. Once they are all in their seats, David looks at me through the rearview mirror and says, "Where to boss?"

  Pulling out my phone, I check the time, and sure enough, we are still within visiting hours. With my eyes locked on his, I respond, "Take me to see Octavia, I need to check on her." With a nod, he breaks eye contact, backs out of the parking lot, and merges into the increasingly dense traffic. Thankfully, the hospital is only two miles away, so we arrive in no time. David drops us off at the back of the hospital so we can avoid curious eyes and access to the elevator that leads directly to Tavia’s floor easily.

  As we all pile into the metal box, I shoot Frank a quick message letting him know where we are, and within a few seconds, he responds.

  F: Don't forget our dinner date tonight, princess.

  S: I would never do such a thing, I need some us time.

  F: Anything for my princess. Spend time with ya girl. ILY.

  As the elevator opens, I walk out smiling after reading his last message. I know he verbally tells me that he loves me nearly every day, but reading it is different. As we walk down the sterile white hallways of the hospital, my smile begins to fade. Beeps from the machines in each room, single words from the nurses as they talk, and the soft whimpers from the patients fill my ears. As I pass the nurses station, I stop in front of the charge nurse to get a quick update. "Any news on Octavia?"

  Without glancing away from her computer, she shakes her head no. Gah, I just want to grab her by the back of her head and slam her face into her screen. The silent treatment she is giving me is uncalled-for and is definitely not appreciated. I understand she is working, but twenty-seconds of her time will not kill her, though ignoring me might. I've put up with her bullshit for the last two visits, and I’ll be damned if she thinks this shit will fly. Turning away from her, I run through all the possible things I can do to her in my mind.

  Crossing the last couple of feet to Tavia’s room, I feel my heart lift with the hope that she is awake. Rounding the door to her room, I look over to the bed. Letting out a breath, the hope I carried walking in simmers down to nearly nothing. It's been nearly four weeks since she fell into a coma, and with each tick of the clock, the chance of her waking up gets lower and lower. I'm the person she assigned to make all decisions in these types of situations, so turning off the machines is up to me. I'm not ready for that. I can't.

  Walking over to her limp form, I grab her hand and give it a squeeze to let her know I'm here. The only response I get is the steady beeping of the machines that show the life inside of her. Godfrey, Viktor, and Joe claim their seats while they wait for me to finish my visit. For the next forty minutes, I talk to my best friend and clean her up to the best of my abilities. When we leave her room, she has freshly painted nails, brushed hair, shaved legs, and of course, her signature red lipstick. She will wake up, and when she does, I want her to feel as normal as possible.

  Chapter Four

  After leaving the hospital, we made our way over to the Sub Rosa. As much as I want to hide out in my apartment, Frank had a point. Its time to press play and stop leaving life on pause. So here I am, sitting in Dominik’s old office, spinning in slow circles in his—my—office chair. I'm supposed to be reading and organizing the files to get familiar with everything, but going through them feels like such a violation. Pulling out my phone, I hook it up to the surround sound speakers and blast my playlist. Giving myself one final spin, I close my eyes and decide to tackle whatever my gaze lands on.

  As I spin, my equilibrium becomes off balance and makes me swa
y unsteadily in the chair. After a few seconds, I finally come to a stop. Slamming my fist down, I quickly squeeze my eyes closed and then slowly open them. "Huh, I guess I might as well get it over with." Dominik’s intimidating desk stares back at me with its multiple drawers probably chock-full of documents and vital information pertaining to the mafia and all of its important business transactions. Scooting forward, I start at the top and work my way down.

  Pulling open the center drawer first, I’m relieved to see mundane office supplies such as pens, highlighters, markers, Wite-Out, and staples. It only takes a few minutes to organize things and throw out the used sticky notes containing nothing but random scribbles. Satisfied with my progress, I open the next drawer, and this time I’m not so lucky. From front to back, there is nothing but vertical file organizers stuffed with papers. Pulling the first one out, I start to read, and instantly something catches my attention. In bold, red lettering is Assassinations: Past and Future. Mumbling to myself, "Well shit, let’s not start off easy. Just dive right in." Shaking my head, I start to read everything, word for word. The more knowledge I have, the more powerful I will become.

  Nearly four hours later, I’m finally finished with the last drawer. Thank god Dom was organized and labeled everything or else this would have been a whole lot worse. Just as I kick the drawer to close it, the wooden base shifts. Leaning down, I carefully lift the board to reveal a false bottom. What the fuck. Laying in scattered piles are newspaper clippings, documents, and a single photo. Picking up the picture, I suck in a breath. The little girl in the picture could have been me, well, that is if I were born a decade earlier. Her light blonde hair shines in the sunlight, her genuine smile shows pure happiness and love, and she is surrounded by nothing but vibrant red roses. The similarity to Dominik’s signature roses is uncanny. Before I can dive any deeper into the hidden compartment, hands slide onto my shoulders.

  Whirling around, I start to swing on whoever fucking dares to touch me. Thankfully, I realize who it is before my knuckles connect with his face. Laughing, I pause the music and turn to face Jaime. "You're lucky I didn't knock you on your ass, papi!"

  His muscled chest shakes with laughter. Taking a step back, he throws his arms up in mock defense. "Woah, watch out, we got a badass in here." Jaime’s smart ass comment is filled with lightheartedness and is exactly what I need after looking through these intense files.

  Forgetting about the picture in my hand, it falls into the drawer as I rise from my chair. My knees pop in protest from being seated so long, and I groan with each pop. By the time I'm fully straightened, Jaime’s amused expression only becomes more jovial. Reaching over, I smack him and jokingly say, "How dare you laugh at my old age! I'm thoroughly appalled!" I try to play up the act, but the look on his face makes me start laughing hysterically and soon enough he joins in.

  Jaime's lighthearted personality is definitely something I need. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard in the past three weeks. As our laughter settles down, it feels like a million pounds have been lifted off my shoulders. Closing my eyes, I let myself bask in the feeling of happiness. In the midst of it all, Jaime's Spanish accent spills over my thoughts in rich caramel tones. "Mi amor, te pareces a un angel. Light shines around you like a halo, your dimples show just enough to make you look beyond beautiful, and your laughter is like the purest gift from God himself." Each of his words caress me in a way I never thought imaginable.

  With hooded eyes, he takes slow and steady steps toward me. As he advances toward me, I step backward until I am backed against the desk. With hunger in his eyes, Jaime continues to creep even closer until his body becomes flush with mine. With each heaving breath I take, my chest rubs against his, causing my nipples to become alive and pert. Warmth spreads from my chest up to my cheeks and down my body until it reaches my now throbbing core.

  Leaning forward, Jaime starts trailing soft kisses from one side of my neck to the other. Bracing my arms on the desk, I relax my head back, allowing him to explore even further. As he reaches the bottom of my ear, he starts to make his way to the spot behind my ear that he knows drives me crazy. With a gentle blow to my hotspot, I let out a low moan and flutter my eyes until they close from pleasure. The next thing I know, his strong hands latch onto my hips with a punishing grip that I'm sure will bruise. The combination of rough and soft and sensual is something I've been craving.

  Overwhelmed with desire, I tilt my pelvis and press even closer to him. Jaime pressing back against me is the only thing I need to know that he is turned on as much as me. His rock-solid dick strains against his jeans, and with each movement of my hips, it twitches and moves right where I need it. To still me, he tightens his grip on my hips, causing his nails to bite into my skin through my shirt. Before I can protest, he places me on the edge of my desk and swiftly wipes it clear, causing everything to crash to the ground.

  Letting out a growl, I say, "You're lucky I want you because I think you just broke my laptop." With fumbling fingers, I start to undo his jeans. With the button undone, I quickly yank the zipper down and slide my hand inside to find the prize. Much to my surprise, Jaime went commando today, so there isn't another barrier preventing me from clasping his silken cock and stroking it. As my fingers reach the head, I let my finger run over the slit, and the feeling of pre-cum greets me. With a swipe of my thumb, I gather it up and bring it to my mouth. Locking my eyes on his, I dart my tongue out and relish the taste of his essence.

  His eyes dilate as they focus on my full lips encasing my thumb. In the next second, he is tugging his jeans down and pushing my skirt up over my hips. Gripping my thighs, he tugs me to the edge, my ass nearly dangling off the desk. Leaning over me, Jaime pushes the deep V of my shirt to the side and exposes the luscious curve of my breast. My nipple is already at attention from all the raging hormones flowing through me, but as soon as the blast of cool air flows over it, it tightens even more. Damn near hard enough to cut glass.

  Stepping forward, he slides his hips in between my thighs and presses himself against my lace-covered pussy. Leaning down, he latches onto my nipple and lavishes it, alternating between sucking and biting the sensitive areas around it. Pushing the other side of my shirt over, he switches sides and begins to lavish my other nipple as well. All the while, he is grinding himself against my throbbing pussy, making it weep my sweet nectar as it begs to be filled. Reaching up, I grip his hair and push him lower. With a pop, he releases my overly sensitive nipple and obeys my silent command.

  As he slowly trails kisses down my stomach, he reaches up and hooks his thumbs into the thin material separating us and starts to tug it down. By the time he reaches my throbbing core, I am completely exposed. Dropping down to his knees, he tosses my legs over his shoulders and doesn't hesitate to dip his tongue inside my pussy and feast on my juices. Jaime’s tongue works me over like a sensual lover, caressing and showing every inch the passion it deserves. I throw my head back and release a string of curses the second he latches onto my throbbing nub.

  It doesn't take long for my legs to start shaking as my impending orgasm creeps closer and closer. Not able to continue supporting myself on shaky arms, I lay back and lose myself in the sensations flowing through me. Sure enough, the ball of pleasure building inside me reaches the edge, and all I need is a few more seconds of pleasure before will explode. But just as I start to spasm, Jaime stops his assault on my pussy and keeps me from going over the edge.

  Releasing a frustrated groan, I start to lean up and yell at him for stopping, but before I can even move, he stands up. With my legs still on his shoulders, he grabs his cock and rubs it up and down my slit, coating it with my juices. With each swipe, the head of his dick nudges my clit, keeping me right on the edge but never pushing me over. Getting frustrated, I try to take matters into my own hands, but before I can do anything, he slams into me, forcing a cry of pleasure out.

  Not pausing to allow me to adjust to his girth, he continues to pump into me with deep, hard thr
usts. Throwing my hands back, I grip the edge of the desk to keep myself from sliding off. With each thrust, the desk shakes, and so do my legs. Without warning, I finally crash. A scream is ripped from me, but he doesn't relent, if anything he fucks me even harder—each thrust punishing and unforgiving. I get no time to come down from my euphoric high; instead, he keeps me in a blissed-out state which has my channel gripping him like a vice, and the tremors keep rocking through me.

  Looking at him, I watch as he looks down at our connection with a face of pure satisfaction—almost like a kid in a candy store. Sweat starts to collect and run down his body. A droplet catches my eye as it trails past his chest and down his tightened six-pack abs. Right before I can watch it slide down his pelvis, Jaime tilts, which causes him to slide against that sensitive spot deep inside me.

  Letting go of the desk, I grasp my breast and start to pinch and swirl my straining nipples. With each powerful thrust, I slide back until my head hangs over the back of the desk and when I open my eyes, they land on Frank who is leaning against the wall with his hooded eyes locked on the connection between Jaime and me. My eyes trail down his body and stop at the bulge pressing against his faded jeans. Tearing my eyes away, I focus back on Jaime, who looks like he hasn't even noticed our audience.

  I just started to come down from euphoria, but between the sound of Jaime slamming into my gushing pussy and the pure thrill of knowing Frank is right there watching, I quickly climb again. The moans that escape me mix with the groans coming from Jaime, but at the sound of a grunt that comes from Frank, Jaime freezes. His eyes dart from Frank to me and back again. Indecision laces his features, so to help him, I drop my legs off his shoulders, wrap them around his hips, and nudge him to continue.

  To my dismay, he doesn't get the hint, so I lean up on my elbows and glare at him. "You better keep fucking me or else I'm going to have Frank finish me off." Nearly thirty-seconds pass, and he hasn't made a move, so I look at Frank and wave him over to me. When Frank takes his first step forward, Jaime grips my hips and flips me on the desk so that my ass is in the air.