by DJ Parker
“You. I belong to you Andriano,” she screamed while gripping the sheet on the bed. Her body wiggled around, causing me to get a firm hold on her body while I licked and sucked on her.
“Promise me you won’t try running away again?” I asked her after smacking her bottom.
“OHHH…UHHH, I promise. I promise,” she groaned out her pleasure as I stroked her clit harder. Her hands gripped the sheet as she grinded herself onto my hand.
“Fuck…you’re so fucking wet for me,” I said blowing out an air of frustration. I wanted to fuck her until my dick went limp from spilling my seed into her over and over again. But, I needed to ensure that there was clarity between us.
“Promise me what?” I asked as I spread her cheeks apart and positioned my cock to explore a place that neither one of us has gone. Her taut hole was prime and brimming with wetness. Bringing the tip of my shaft to her entrance, Simone backed herself into me as if wanting me to slide into her in one thrust.
“You’ll get this dick, but you need to answer me first,” I said leaning over her and dropping kisses over her shoulders and back. Lightly biting her shoulder blade, I asked her again, “Promise me what?”
~****~
Simone
“Promise me what?” he asked as his lips brushed against my burning skin. Feeling the tip of his bulb at my entrance, I knew that I couldn’t resist Andriano any longer. His bulging abs pressed against my back as he hovered over me.
Pushing back into him, I needed to feel him enter. Hissing in air, Andriano grunted as he tried to maintain his composure. But, I could hear the need in his voice.
Sliding the tip of his shaft into me, a deep guttural moan escaped from deep within as I found a pleasurable sensation in his invasion. His lips remained close to my ear while I tilted my head back into the gap between his neck and shoulder.
“Tell me,” he whispered in what appeared to sound like a strained tone. Sliding another inch of himself into me, I gave up fighting, “I promise,
I’ll never leave you again.” Filling my backside with every inch of him, I felt my insides widen to accommodate his size. Never had I ever considered or thought about the possibility of feeling pleasure this way. His hand cupped my sopping sex while his index and middle fingers slipped between my folds and rubbed against my throbbing aching nub.
Pumping in and out of me, Andriano held my body close while he moaned, “Bella mia, stop fighting me. Stop fighting us.”
Backing my body into him, I met each thrust graciously. Our moans became in sync, as I felt my explosion coming near.
“I love you,” he repeated as he stroked my insides with his fingers and cock.
Unable to respond, I temporarily faded into a state of bliss. Coming all over his hand, I felt Andriano’s grip on my waist tighten as he gave one final thrust.
“Ahh, fuck!” He screamed out as he exploded inside of me.
~****~
Dropping light kisses on my shoulder, I felt Andriano’s heartbeat pounding against my skin as he engulfed me into his arms. Taking in his warmth, I felt conflicted with my feelings.
“Bella mia,” he whispered close to my ear. “Tomorrow, I have to leave again.”
“How long are you going to be gone?”
“Two weeks. Simone, I need you to promise me that you won’t try leaving again.”
Becoming stiff in his arms, I adjusted my body to be in a sitting position. Running my fingers through my hair, I exhaled and said, “I’m not going to leave.” Grazing his knuckles up and down my spinal, Andriano leaned forward and kissed my back.
Grabbing my robe that was draped over the bed post, I covered my body as I slid off of the bed. Turning to face Andriano, I said, “I don’t want the girls to get confused.”
Brushing his hand down his face, Andriano asked, “Confused about what?”
“Confused about you and me. It’s bad enough that you and I are in the same house, much less sleeping together. You’re married still, and I’m dating someone.”
His icy stare sent chills down my spine as his chiseled jaw twitched slightly while I observed the transitional change in his demeanor.
“Who is he?” His tone remained steady despite the hint of anger that lingered in between his words.
“Does it matter?” I asked. “Your only focus should be on our daughters. Not my love life. Now please leave.” Gesturing to the door, I watched as Andriano slid his body off of the bed. Biting on my bottom lip, I couldn’t help but appreciate his physique.
“This is not over,” he promised before closing the door behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Vincenzo
Florence, Italy
“Did you bring it with you?” asked Antonio Vallenti. His impertinent brown eyes studied my every movement as I dug inside my carry-on bag. Antonio is the youngest son out of Don Vallenti’s five sons. We met while he traveled to the States this past January. Despite his apprehension to sit down with a Balducci, he eventually agreed to meet with me in Long Island. Once we were better acquainted, I had to assure him that I remained on neutral grounds of the ongoing strife between the Capparelli family and the Vallenti family. The feud stretched back six decades when a deal went sour. At the time, the Vallenti’s controlled the exports and imports out of the Marina de Ancona in Florence. Once there was an increase of imports for the Capparelli’s, the Vallenti’s started to charge the Capparelli’s significantly more money. Complying at first, the Vallenti’s decided to insult the intelligence of the Capparelli’s by selling off some of the inventory before delivering the rest of the merchandise to the Capparelli’s. For two months, the Capparelli’s did not notice the error in shipments. That all changed, when Don Capparelli ordered the massacre of all Vallenti associates. Six decades later, they were still dealing with the ongoing conflict between these two families. But, I planned to change all of that…
Withdrawing the Ziploc baggie of Don Capparelli’s tongue, right ear, and index finger, I slid the contents across the tiny table outside of the rustic café at the corner of Via Giovan Battista Zannoni. The famous block was known to the rest of the world as being renowned for the leather shops and boutiques.
But to the locals, this is Don Vallenti’s territory. All outsiders from the underworld had to be invited by a top-ranking official from the Vallenti family. The Balducci’s never had any quarrels with the Vallenti’s before the uniting with the Capparelli family. Ultimately, the long-standing embroilment from the Capparelli family spilled into our bowl of enemy soup.
Chuckling, Antonio pulled out a cigarette and rolled the stick between his index and middle fingers as he stared at the baggie in amazement. Bobbing up and down, Antonio’s cigarette hung off of his bottom lip, as he spoke, “So the infamous Don Capparelli was brought back down to earth.” Pausing for a moment, he struck a match and lit his cigarette before taking in a log drag. Releasing the fumes from his nose, Antonio leaned on his elbows and said, “You did good…you did good.”
Anxious, I leaned forward and brought my tone low enough for only us to hear, “When can I see the Don?”
“Sii paziente (Be patient)…sii paziente, Vincenzo,” Antonio replied coolly before taking in another long pull. Exhaling the fumes in a whistling form, he pointed his index finger at me and said, “Let me present these…gifts to my father. I’m sure he’ll appreciate this gift.”
Leaning back into my chair, I clenched my fists tightly. Realizing where I was, I bit the inside of my mouth until I specks of salty copper invaded my taste buds. Speaking slow and calm, I said, “I flew out here to see Don Vallenti.”
“When Don Vallenti is ready to see you, then we’ll get in contact with you,” Antonio said dismissively as he stood up and slid the baggie off of the table. Walking away, I managed to suppress the rage that stirred inside as I sent murderous plunges to his back. I need to know that I have their full support to kill Andriano before I leave Italy.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Victoria
New Jersey
“Did you send the package to Reign Johnson?” asked Thomas, the moment I opened the door. Brushing past my shoulder, he stood in the middle of the foyer with one hand on his hip and the other hand massaging his temple.
“How long did you know?” I asked, as I closed the door and faced him.
“Excuse me?” he asked, scrunching up his face as if somehow my question released a foul odor in the room.
“You know exactly what I’m asking you. How long did you know?”
Raking his fingers through his hair, Thomas paced frantically throughout the room before finally finding the right words. “A few months before your father passed away, he confided in me that he had enough supporting documents to incriminate the whole east coast mob.”
Tucking my hand into my crossed arm, a shiver went through my body like a brisk winter morning. These past few days were filled with more sleepless nights. Before going to North Carolina, I spent the whole night going through my father’s documents in box 9L9C3N8. After listening to each of the tapes a few times, fear crawled all over my skin as I recognized the voices of each of the men on the tapes. The first tape was of a meeting between the former Don Capparelli and my father. The former Don Balducci started the meeting by stating that his son was becoming distracted. According to his sources, Andriano was seen with Simone Sinn. My father spoke up immediately, claiming that Simone was harmless, and Andriano would grow tired of her before the engagement party. The Don demanded to have a printout of the financial records of Andriano’s spending habits.
Among the other conversations that stuck out the most was my father’s participation in having the picture of Andriano and Josephine’s engagement photo delivered to Simone’s house five years earlier. The most chilling was the sinister laugh that haunted the recording. That distinct laugh came from none other than Don Capparelli. He planned on having Simone murdered despite my father ensuring that Simone had cut off all communications with Andriano after the abortion. He practically begged for Simone’s life; even going as far as claiming to pay her a large sum of money to never return to New York City.
My father’s pleas resulted in Don Balducci saying that he would call off the hit based on the value of my father’s word. These men knew that Simone was pregnant, and that’s probably why they were planning to have her killed. My poor father did everything to protect Simone, even risking his creditability with the infamous Don. Some fucking loyalty, my father died at the hands of the mob. As I shuffled through the piles of papers in the box, I couldn’t believe that my father had managed to track all payroll records dating back to the 70’s.
Scribbling some of the names that I recognized from the payroll, I had every intentions of exposing these shady politicians that we’ve elected into office to not turn a blind eye. At first, I debated on letting Simone hear the recordings. But she deserved to know the truth about what occurred so many years ago. She needed to continue to protect her daughters from any potential harm. After all, Andriano did not know that she kept the babies.
Taking the first flight out to North Carolina, I had every intention to listen to the tapes with her. But, as I recalled her struggles that she endured while raising her children, I couldn’t bear to see any more pain filter through her battered soul. I saw enough of that when Andriano broke her heart. I saw it after she gave birth to the girls, and she became overwhelmed when Olivia remained in the hospital an additional four weeks. I saw it each and every time the girls blew out their birthday candles. I saw it again while at my father’s wake. Though she never asked about Andriano since his engagement party, I knew that she was dealing with her hurt. She deserved to know the truth; only, I couldn’t be there to help her get through that moment.
“So what happened? Why couldn’t my father take them down?” I asked as I struggled to hold back the tears. Squeezing my crossed arms tighter, I willed myself to remain strong in front of Thomas.
Clearing his throat, Thomas appeared to be paranoid as he said, “Victoria, your father knew the risks. Things became different once the new Don came into power. His expansion made it impossible to find resources that were not on his payroll. We even tried to get members of the IRS and the FBI from lower rankings.” Averting his eyes to the ground, Thomas said in a remorseful tone, “But you see what happened with that.”
“They killed him…” I said, unable to hold back the tear that slid down my cheek.
“You need to mail the box to her,” Thomas said as he advanced towards me. Wrapping his hands around my shoulders, he gave me a firm grip before saying, “We might have a chance to dismantle this organization. Get those sons of bitches for what they did to Donald.” His eyes were filled with the same hurt that I identified with.
“Please just mail it to her. We have a chance to make sure that his death
was not in vain. She’s a fresh face and comes from a wealthy background. Money can’t sway her like it did the former District Attorney.”
“I’ll send it,” I announced after a moment of silence past between us. “What I can’t seem to understand is what do you gain from this?”
The valence of emotions that covered his neutral face was not entirely positive or negative. Rather, he seemed shocked by my question.
“What kind of relationship did you and my father have?” I asked; even though I was not entirely sure if I wanted know his answer. His eyes diverted every direction except where he was supposed to look.
Releasing his grip, his hands dropped to his sides, and he began backing away from me. Shaking his head, Thomas began to walk towards the front door in an attempt to escape.
“Don’t walk away from me Thomas,” my voice rose loud enough to echo throughout the room; loud enough for him to halt all movements as he gave me his back. “You were my father’s lawyer for over ten years. So I can understand why you would want justice for him. But, what I can’t understand is what kind of relationship you had with my father.”
Exhaling loudly, Thomas’ hand massaged the back of his neck before he turned slowly to face me. “We were lovers.”
The sharp intake of my breath caused him to winch slightly before he regained the ability to move. Running out of the front door, Thomas left me standing in the center of my foyer before I collapsed to the ground in a fit of tears.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Simone
North Carolina
Two days later
“What do you mean that her brain wave activity has reduced to 10%?” My mother asked Dr. Logan.
Her high-pitched voice drew attention to our direction as Dr. Logan cleared his throat nervously. “Mrs. Jones, the ventilator is keeping her alive. She’s not able to breathe on her own anymore.”
“Oh God,” my mom shrieked with tears streaming from her eyes. Holding onto my mother, her head rested on my shoulder as I nodded to Dr. Logan before he walked away. Guiding my mother into Grandma’s bedroom, my mother immediately ran to her mother’s helpless body. She was hooked up to the machines with an endotracheal tube and a tracheotomy tube shoved down her throat. A foul odor filled the room. She was dying, and I could not do anything about it.
“Mama, I know that you can hear me. You’ve always been a fighter. You can fight this. Come on, you can do it,” my mother coached my grandmother in between her loud sobs.
Standing at the foot of my grandmother’s bed, I searched for the strength to let go of my best friend, my mother, my rock. Silent tears began to slide down my cheeks, as I thought about my daughters. How was I going to explain to them that their Nana was now in heaven? Walking to the side of Grandma’s bed, I leaned over and kissed my grandmother’s forehead as droplets of tears moistened her cold skin.
“Grandma, as much as I don’t want to say goodbye, I can’t bear to see you like this,” I said before I leaned into her ear and whispered, “Please continue to watch over your grandbabies from up there. I love you, Grandma.”
Walking away from my Grandmother’s body, I dug
into my bag and pulled out my cell phone. Scrolling through my contacts, I stopped at Raymond and Raymond Family Funeral Home and prepared for the arrangements for Grandma’s funeral.
~****~
Later that day, my mother and I picked up my daughters from their day camp. Once inside, my mother gave each of the girls a kiss and told them that she was going to sleep early. She tried to maintain a sense of calmness on behalf of the girls, but her eyes were filled with distraught and pain. After making dinner for the girls, I bathed each of them before bringing them into my bedroom. It was time that they knew the truth about their Nana.
“I have to tell you something—something about Nana,” I began, but choked up. Swallowing the tears that threatened to spill from my weary eyes, I continued. “Nana is not going to be coming home.”
“Why?” asked Jasmine, as each of my daughters looked to me from answers.
“Doesn’t Nana know that I miss her?” asked Olivia.
“Yes, Livy. She knows that you all miss her. She misses you too.” Unable to hold back my tears, a trail trickled down my cheek. “God has called her to come into His home.”
“But, her home is here,” protested Olivia.
“Can we visit her?” asked Acelia.
“No baby, I’m afraid that you can’t visit her. But, she’ll always be here with us. Nana was fighting a great battle. She fought hard,” pausing briefly I wiped away my tears before continuing. “God knew that she was tired of fighting so He took all of her pain away and told her come home with Him.”
“Why didn’t she take medicine to make her feel better?” Jasmine asked.
“This time the medicine did not help her,” I replied to Jasmine.
“Maybe if we make the box with Mr. Bald-bald,” Olivia struggled to pronounce his last name.
“Mr. Balducci.”
“Yes. Maybe if we make the box, she’ll come home,” said Olivia.